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joeloverture · 4 months

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hook 'em horny | j.m. x f!reader

masterlist : coach!joel masterlist pairing: college football coach!joel miller x reader summary: [no outbreak] seeking petty revenge on your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you somewhere you shouldn't be — and then it lands you over the knee of his coach. warnings: (18+ mdni, don't make me say it again.) cheating done by a referenced oc, briefest mention of drugs, porn barely garnished with plot, age gap (22/52), smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, potentially dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, daddy kink, sir kink, 'punishment' spanking, degradation, praise, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, joel spits on her ass but otherwise no butt stuff, mild choking, body writing, so many pet names of so many varieties, aftercare, surprisingly fluffy [no use of y/n] word count: 6.4k a/n: this is a crazy idea to have considering joel can hardly handle ellie. i don't think he'd be able to handle ~118 college-aged boys. however, the idea of football coach! joel is hot to me (i mean, seriously, look at those sluts on the sidelines) so i made it happen. on a serious note, i am so sorry to the unnamed university this is based on. i toured you. i'm legacy. but... joel miller. let's make it clear this is for entertainment purposes only. this is a fictional work about fictional people that does not reflect the school itself, which is a fine institution whose head coaches historically do not fuck students in the locker rooms. shoutout to my dad who, unknowing what this information would be used for, explained to me how he snuck into this stadium 3x. don't do that, either.

You can’t even remember the last time you made a good decision.

Your track record definitely isn’t the cleanest: you chose to go to school in Texas, and then chose to stay there for four years. Choosing to go to that frat party in late junior year wasn’t your brightest moment, either, evidenced by the resulting hangover from hell and, predictably, frat flu. All things considered, those choices pale in comparison to hooking up with their all-star quarterback, Lucas Scott.

Dirty-blonde, blue-eyed, muscled Lucas Scott. He’s the sort of guy who looks like an eight when you’re looking at him after a few shots of tequila and a four when you’re sober. The sort of guy who, after over a year of dating, makes you split the bill halfway after ordering the more expensive entree. Crowned as the most efficient, precise, and instinctive quarterback the Longhorns have ever had. Apparently that instinct hadn’t been enough to drive him away from dipping his wick in every sorority girl’s candle wax.

No matter how much post-orgasm Lucas panted into his ear that he loved you, you weren’t stupid enough to trick yourself into believing it. Staying with him was the easier choice, not yet wanting to reduce yourself to locker room talk. Walking in on him sloppily fucking some redhead nursing major was the breaking point. When it became less about you and more about your dignity.

So, yeah, you’ve never been one for making good decisions, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.

You thought breaking into the stadium would be some sort of monumental task. Trespassing here was normally reserved for campus rooftops and after-hours exploration, but once you’d gotten this batshit crazy idea in your head, you knew it wasn’t going to shake until you at least proved it couldn’t be done.

The open garage at the back of the building doesn’t help to deter you. It’s like there’s a welcome-mat outside saying, ‘Come on in and get what you deserve!’.

Who would you be to decline such a sincere invitation?

The garage is empty apart from some cushy golf carts, and the steel door behind them couldn’t be more tempting. If it’s locked, you tell yourself, you’ll go back to the dorm and forget about your incident of near-trespassing.

You take small steps to the door, testing the handle. It springs right open, and all thoughts of leaving dissipate from your mind.

Who leaves the garage open and forgets to lock the door? Probably people with just as little between their ears (and legs) as Lucas. You scoff in half-disbelief, half-luck as you close the door behind you.

The energy feels stagnant this late at night, no announcer on the loudspeaker or swarms of burnt orange hats and T-shirts standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Industrial lights flicker above, their hums loud enough to make you wonder if you have tinnitus. Concrete lines the hallways, interrupted by a few silver-painted pipes arranged in a labyrinth up against the walls. A few security cameras are pointed at you. Before going any further, you pause to raise the hood of your Longhorns sweatshirt.

Even if you should be, you aren’t in much of a rush; you amble about, really taking in the sterile ambiance of the empty stadium. You turn a few corners, going in what feels like the right direction. You figure you’re getting closer when you spot what looks like it could be a security tower. Crouching behind a trash can, you wait it out, trying to peer through the untinted windows to figure out if there’s anyone in there at all. When you’ve determined it’s unmanned and let out a shallow exhale, you go back up to full posture and keep wandering around unsupervised.

You know you’re in the right place when you find your toes hovering over a red line painted on the oil-stained concrete: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT.

Bingo.

Crossing that line without really thinking about it, you stick to your (so far) tried and true method of going wherever feels the most promising until you’re standing in front of the two black doors you were looking for. The door’s handle is an obnoxiously large longhorn, and you quite literally have to hook ‘em to get inside.

You’re starting to understand where the rest of the university’s funding is going when you walk into the locker room. After dating Lucas for a year, you know the football team is full of itself, but the Longhorniness of it all is… excessive. There’s the silhouette of the logo glowing on the goddamn ceiling, and if the jerseys the players are wearing on their digital nameplates isn’t enough of an indicator of who they play for, every backlit locker has a drawer with, you guessed it: a longhorn painted at the center. A brown vinyl couch wraps around the front of the room in direct view of a powered down videoboard that you can only assume replays highlight reels.

You roll your eyes. Again, your track record with decision-making isn’t the best, because you chose a school who puts every penny towards sweaty frat boys with brain damage from the amount of concussions they get.

And then you see it: a sign tacked onto the middle aisle of lockers that reads CORE VALUES. From top to bottom, HONESTY, TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT, NO DRUGS, NO STEALING, and NO WEAPONS. You have to physically clamp your jaw shut to restrict your laughter at the second one.

It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. Lucas Scott, #10.

His sweat-stained jersey hangs limply from the rack, and you eagerly tear it off, tossing it down onto the floor. Eager like a child ready to color outside the lines of a coloring book, you kneel down in front of it, pulling out the one thing you had prepared for tonight. A bold black Sharpie.

You pop the cap with your teeth, spitting it out somewhere on the floor as you start scribbling. Disguising your handwriting isn’t intentional, but you’re writing so carelessly and on such a foreign material that it comes naturally. Your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you work. In a year and a half, you’d never felt such satisfaction about — and certainly not from — Lucas.

TWO PUMP CHUMP along the side. FIVE INCHES FULL MAST on the other. CHEATER at the bottom. WHORE across the front.

A throat clears behind you. You drop the Sharpie, a blot of ink forming on the mesh. You startle backwards, scooting until your back hits that stupid longhorn drawer. You’re expecting a janitor, maybe a security guard if you’re extra unlucky.

That isn’t the worst of your options, apparently, because when you look up, it’s at Joel fucking Miller, head coach of the longhorn’s football team.

Your lower lip starts trembling, and that moment is when you decide maybe you need to start making good decisions. You’ve heard enough about Joel from Lucas to know he’s a total hardass. He could drag you by the ear to the dean and have you kicked out at the tail end of your second to last semester in this hellhole.

He glares down at you with his head cocked, hazel eyes far darker than they ever seem on TV. His scruff stipples his hardened jawline, lips thinned out like the worry lines pressed onto his forehead. If you were interested in digging yourself any deeper, you might stall to think about how good he looks: the faint trail of chest hair vanishing down into the neckline of his longhorns polo shirt, his fitted khakis, broad leather belt slung around his waist, and the slight bulge of tummy above it. You swallow hard and kick yourself for it.

“What exactly,” Coach Miller drawls, voice syrupy and sticky. “do ya think you’re doin’?”

Your mouth moves, but no words come out. He doesn’t seem very amused, his muscled arms crossing over his wide torso.

Joel shakes his head. “Ain’t a good look for you, hun, scrawlin’ that chicken scratch all over my QB’s jersey. Could get a real ugly charge for that.”

Heart crashing into your ribcage, you bite down on your lip. “I can pay the damages,” you blurt out.

He sizes you up all over again, eyes dragging up and down your body. They linger on your chest for a few extra seconds that you’re convinced that you just made up. “Can you, sugar? ‘Cause to me, looks like you’re the type to be chasin’ tips at whatever joint hires you.”

You don’t have the bandwidth to be as offended as you should be, especially because he’s right. You settle for glowering at him instead. A huff of laughter pinches out of him. “You give everyone you vandalize that blue look? Or is that lil’ number jus’ because you found out Lucas really ain’t that loyal?” With ease, Joel bulldozes over whatever thinning resolve you have remaining.

“What’s that sign over there say? ‘Treat women with respect’?” You say. Joel’s backlit like all of those over budgeted lockers behind him. You squint your eyes. “You know that’s fucking bullshit. So what if I give him a taste of his own medicine when he’s been a minute man for every girl with a pulse on this campus?” You cap your Sharpie and clip it back onto your collar and get to your feet. So much for good decisions. “Fuck right off with that.”

“Hey, hey. Down, hun.” Joel holds his hands out to you, and you notice just how heavily you’ve been breathing, just how close you are to him. “Never said you were wrong. Kid’s a fuck up in all sorts ‘a ways. But I don’t like how you’re mouthin’ off at me, Miss Priss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in dire need of a spankin’ to set you right.”

Your breath cuts short and your cunt bottoms out without your permission. You don’t need a mirror to know your eyes just went glassy, your lips parted as your mouth goes desert dry. As discreetly as you can manage, you squeeze your thighs together.

Joel doesn’t miss it. You can tell from the moment his brows raise and his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth picking up a smidge. “Oh, yeah? That do somethin’ for ya, hun? Nasty little girl.” There’s a dangerous, uneven grit to his voice that has arousal burning like a candle in your stomach, the wax of your arousal syrupy against your thighs already.

Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Fuck.

“No,” you breathe out stubbornly, but you’ve already given yourself away, even to yourself. The insides of your thighs are molten, twitching with every throb of your clit between your legs. That flush of warmth from your pelvis is spreading, overheating.

Joel tuts. “You really think that? You can whine all you want ‘bout wantin’ respect, but at the end ‘a the day, you just wanna be treated like some whore, huh?” And, yeah, he has you figured out, has you in the palm of his hand. Even though you have no idea what someone like him could do to someone like you, you want him to do it. You want to find out. “I’ll tell ya what, sugar, you walk outta here right now and nobody but me’s gonna know you came pitchin’ a hissy fit in my locker room.”

You frown at that, a small arc of your pouty lips that has Joel’s eyes gleaming.

“Or,” he says. “You can pull those wet fuckin’ panties down – don’t gimme that look, I know they are – and I can give ya a real lesson in respect.” He shrugs, hands going to his waist as he looks you up and down.

He knows he has you the same way you know, but you aren’t just going to give in that easily. You flare your nose and counter, “If there’s nothing keeping me here other than a firm hand, why should I stay?”

He’s looking at you like he wants to take you apart. His fingers jump against his hips for the opportunity to break you down.

“Sweetness,” Joel shakes his head as if it’s obvious. “if you let me, I could make you feel good. I’m guessin’ you got some vibrator sittin’ in the back of your desk drawer to use when your roommate’s out ‘n about, but you don’t wanna use that tonight, do ya? You want the real thing, hun, and I’d give it to ya real nice once I teach ya to behave.”

There it is again: Coach Joel Miller has you all figured out. Every syllable he says is doomed to send another shiver up your spine, and damn it, fuck playing coy.

You’re too busy tearing off your hoodie to think about how unsexily dressed you are, but the rushed nature of your actions punches a chuckle out of Joel. “Eager thing.” You’re halfway through kicking your shoes and leggings off when he saunters over to the couch, plopping down on the edge and patting his broad, khaki-covered thigh. Your mouth waters when you look back and see just how much the fabric strains against his leg. “Whenever you’re ready, hun.”

You waddle over to him, stripped down to the basics of your sports bra and everyday panties. It’s the furthest thing from erotic, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t. It’s primal and ravenous, enough to have you forgetting all about how you’d even gotten there in the first place. He licks his lips as he trails his eyes all over you, darkening a couple of shades when he looks at your cleavage. “Lucas is a fuckin’ idiot, baby.”

“Knew that already,” you mumble.

He pats his thigh again, bounces his leg. “C’mon, over my knee like the good girl I know you can be. Hurry up and I’ll only give ya five.”

You shuffle forward, relishing in the rubbing of your thighs that comes from it. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch at the perfect angle for you to rest your head on the arm. It doesn’t take any more convincing for you to put yourself over his lap, not that he needed to do much in the first place. You feel so much smaller than him. Your ass is up for him to do whatever he’d like to; it’s a tantalizing feeling you hadn’t gotten out of any intimacy – if you could call it that — with Lucas.

“Mmmmmm,” Joel groans as he runs a hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit through the soaked gusset of your panties. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, or the pitiful shout that jumps off your lips when he pins you down by the small of your back, robbing you of any friction. Between one arousal-riddled breath and the next, Joel tugs your panties off and flings them to the side. You know how it feels, tacky and cold on your core and thighs, so you can only imagine how it must look. Joel gives you a pretty good idea when he reveres, “Goddamn, pretty cunt is throbbin’ for it.”

He pulls apart your folds and you think you hear him lick his lips above you before he lets them go. The schlick noise your dripping pussy makes is nothing less than pornographic. Joel gropes you carefully, kneads the skin of your ass like you have all the time in the world. Under his ministrations, it’s easy to melt into the couch, forgetting why you’re there in the first place until his palm cracks down on your ass cheek.

The stinging impact has a slurred hnnnngh leaving your lips, and a fresh gush of wetness between your legs to accompany it. You keep your head tucked into the sanctuary of your folded arms, eyes squeezed shut so tight you swear you’re seeing stars. Joel’s quick to rub the spanked patch of skin, his palm soothing his ache. “That’s one, baby.” You nod into your arms. “Think you can take four more?” Another nod.

“I need to hear ya, hun. C’mon, head up f’me.” He taps the side of your cheek, and you prop your cheek up on your forearm. “Think you can take four more?” he repeats.

Your voice hitches, courtesy of the beating that echoes in your chest and between your legs. “Y-yes…”

When the second hit lands, you don’t expect it. You flinch away from his hand when it comes down with a clap that leaves you squirming in his lap. “Yes, what?”

“Yes sir,” you whine out, back arching. Although a punishment, that spank has the same effect as the last: a live wire of arousal strung from your spine to your cunt.

“Takin’ it well,” he praises, squeezing your ass cheeks together. “Sure didn’t expect anyone to come crawlin’ in when I left that garage open, ‘specially not some slut like you with an ass that needs a spankin’ six ways to Sunday.” Just as quick as he can build you up, he can take you down a notch, but you can’t mind when it has you moaning all the same. “Oh, she likes that,” Joel clicks.

He rubs your ass again, and you’re bracing yourself for that next strike, pulled stiff with an arousing, anticipatory sort of fear. Only when you convince yourself it isn’t coming do you let all of that tension flood out of your body — and that’s when Joel smacks his hand across your far-too-trustworthy ass.

You cry out, pouting over your shoulder at Joel, who has a proud smirk drawn all over his face. You don’t even feel your hips rocking down, seeking whatever pleasure you can get until he reprimands, “Ruttin’ against my fuckin’ leg, now, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t like this.”

With a particularly good grind of your hips, you feel his bulge pressing into your thigh. From a mere graze alone, you can tell it’s huge. A whimper tears out of you at the same time he groans above you. “You got nothin’ to prove, ain’t gonna change the fact you’re a slut who needs to get spanked ‘n stuffed to talk ‘er into behavin’ a bit.”

“Can’t even follow your own rules,” you huff, apparently still interested in shooting yourself in the foot even when Coach Miller has you ass-up over his knee.

“Don’t see how you care…” Joel slides a hand down between your legs. He rubs at your clit, an intense pressure that has you wanting more and less all at the same time, before dragging a thick finger across your opening. Arousal squelches between your legs and your hips jump – a dead giveaway to just how turned on you are, whether you like it or not. “when it gets you this turned on,” he finishes. Then that same finger is prodding at your mouth, glistening with your wetness. You whimper before tasting yourself, sucking obediently on his finger until he pulls away with a pop.

You sulk, “Don’t act like I can’t feel you ripping a hole in your jeans, Miller–”

The fourth spank is the hardest by far. The skin of your ass feels bitten by Joel’s ‘firm hand’. It’s the kind of hit that makes your legs kick in his lap and your fingers clutch in the couch’s arm for purchase. You wail, “Daddy!” Pain disappears from your mind when you realize what exactly you just said, quickly replaced by the churning coolant of embarrassment. If you were paying attention to anything else other than the shame suddenly inhabiting your chest, you might’ve been able to feel the twitch of his cock in his pants.

“Daddy, huh?” Joel hums, rubbing your hurt ass with one hand while the other strokes your shoulder. You bury your face back in your arms as an apology takes shape in the back of your throat. “Lucas your daddy, too?”

“No!” You squeak, adjusting in his lap. The hood of your clit catches on the rough material of Joel’s pants. Unable to stop yourself, you hump his knee again, shallow rolls of your hips. You can still feel his hardness against you. Needily, you tip your head up, panting as foggy pleasure hangs over your head.

“Stop makin’ a mess of daddy’s dress pants, baby, unless you wanna be on your knees, lickin’ it up.” You keen, and he chuckles knowingly. “Shoulda known, little whore like you gets off on that.”

Joel gives you a longer reprieve between the fourth and fifth spank. Instead, he strokes your ass and asks, “One more gonna be enough to set you straight, sweetheart?”

“Y..yes daddy,” you whimper. He hums in approval.

You shift back and forth, waiting for it to come — and when it does, it’s softer. It’s by no means a love pat, but it pales in comparison to his previous work. You still sniffle, squeezing your thighs together as he coos, “I know, I know. Poor baby, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Can’t be on her high horse when she’s over Daddy’s knee.” Gentle, he pats your ass and guides you on all fours at the edge of the couch. He hums in approval. “See? Not throwin’ a hissy fit anymore. She’s all nice ‘n obedient when you get ‘er to act right.”

Joel spreads your pussy with his thumbs, and you hear the vulgar noise of him collecting his saliva before you feel his spit landing on your clenching hole. You’ve never felt so empty, not when your bottom drawer vibrator is buzzing against your core, definitely not when Lucas fucks you in the same old missionary. Whimpering for him, you arch your back to try to rub against his crotch.

“Quit your whinin’,” he snips, his thumb finding your clit in one swipe. Joel’s touch is firm, but not too firm, just enough to make your hips push down with a need only he’s ever made you feel.

Without warning, his middle finger slides inside of you, thick and calloused and so, so right. “Fuckin’... tight.” Another slides in as he starts scissoring you open, apparently satisfied enough when he crooks his fingers deep in your cunt. Instantly, he catches that spongy spot that you can never reach on your own. You nearly crumple with the sensation, limbs going weak and buckling. “That the spot?” he asks, but he already knows.

“Mhm,” you moan, chin instinctively tucking against your chest as if you can get away from the pleasure he’s giving you, as if you’d ever want to.

Then — he stops.

His fingers sit heavy inside of you, so close to where you need them to go. “What the fuck, Joel?”

"Baby, s’that how you get what you want?” He rubs your thigh with his free hand and gives it a quick swat. “Help daddy out, tight girl. I'm not just gonna let you get away with bein’ a spoiled brat. Work yourself on my fingers."

You’re putty in the palm of his hand – malleable, docile for him to treat or mistreat you however gets him hard. You whine, punching your hips back nonetheless. Grinding down, down, down, your cunt unresisting when he gives you another finger. It’s crude, the way you moan for him.

Even though he’s hardly doing anything, just the hand you’re getting yourself off on, that all-consuming strain in your body only gets stronger. “Daddy – close, please…”

“Attagirl, atta-fuckin’-girl, give it to me.” He rewards you with a press of his fingers against that golden spot inside of you. Your orgasm splinters through you, an ecstasy-charged mist fanning over your body. Your release runs down Joel’s hand and your thighs with every clench of your cunt, like you’ve been skinned and set ablaze by your own desire. You fall forward on the couch, no longer able to hold yourself up, arms a tangled mess as you gasp into the cushion. “You come so pretty, baby. Messy pussy, too. Soaked me up to my goddamn elbow.”

You’re still reeling from the best orgasm you’ve had in months, maybe ever, when you hear obscene slurping noises from behind you. You cast a look at him, your arousal returning with a vigor at the sight of Joel sucking his fingers clean. He groans at the taste, and you swear you see his cock jump in his khakis. Stomach warped with desire, you’re about to plummet off of the very dangerous edge of doing just about anything for him right now.

“Please fuck me, daddy,” you plead, and in any other position, with any other person, it might be mortifying, something worth clutching your pearls over. But this is Coach Joel Miller, the last person you ever expected to be fucking, giving you the best fuck you never expected.

“There’s those manners,” Joel praises, leaning over you to press a brief kiss to your shoulder blade. You can smell your release on his lips, a sweet smell that’s so distinctly you. He eases off of you, presumably to take off his pants. There’s the shuffling of fabric, and when he returns to your side, you’re disappointed to find he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt.

You pout at him again, still desperate to get your way. Eye-level with his bulge, you’re salivating over it. You had made a mess of his dress pants, a wet spot formed just above his knee, taunting you. You lick your lips.

“Think it’s only fair,” he says, looming over you. He’s holding the Sharpie you’d brought along with you. Your brows furrow as you look up at him through your lashes. “If I give ya the same treatment you gave his jersey.” His gaze is cocky as he pops the cap with his thumb, giving the marker a twirl.

Oh.

It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. Nothing about this should turn you on as much as it does, yet here you are, in a puddle of your own sweat and cum, itching for the next thing he gives you. And if it’s marking up your body before he fucks your brains out, so be it.

He nudges his head, gesturing for you to get down on your stomach. You lift your knees up and flatten yourself out on the cushions. The vinyl sticks and pulls from your skin as you get where he wants you. A soft, surprised noise leaves you when he straddles your thighs, his clothed cock nudging at your seam.

“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, because it’s the only phrase you can think of that even holds a candle to what all of this has become.

A laugh fans out from under his breath as he starts at your freshly spanked, raw ass. The Sharpie is cold and foreign, tugging at your skin as he inks you up. “Gotta make sure you match before I dick you down, don’t I? What is it you wrote on his jersey? ‘Whore’? Between the two ‘a ya, I woulda put my money on you for that one.”

If that wasn’t enough indication, you figure out what he’s doing by the time he gets to the right cheek, what feels like an ‘R’ taking shape across your ass. He finishes the ‘E’ and sets down the Sharpie for a moment, his meaty palms spreading your ass. It still thrums with the afterglow of his spanking. You don’t think you can throb any more than you already are, but then he spits on you for the second time that night, this time landing it on your puckered asshole. A gasp flutters from your lips as you grind down into the couch, his spit dripping down your folds.

“See? Real whorish, fuckin’ my couch.” He taps your ass for good measure. “Asshole makes a perfect fuckin’ ‘O’, baby. Looks a whole lot better than that chicken scratch shit you put on his jersey.” You think maybe, just maybe, he’ll dismount you and pull his cock out, but instead he keeps writing, scribbling on your back and upper thighs. Every pull of your skin under the bleeding ink has you aching for him.

When he’s content with his work, he lifts off of you, hands fumbling to undo his belt. It snaps apart, dangling open around his waist as his hands open up his khakis. “You let Lucas fuck that sweet lil’ cunt raw?” he asks.

“No, I don’t,” you admit, unable to tear your eyes away from his cock as he pulls it out, and fuck you. Your eyes don’t even feel big enough to take all of him in, and you have no idea how you’re going to fit him between your legs. You almost go cross-eyed at the sight of it, his head leaking precum.

“Thought so. You gonna let me fuck it raw?”

“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of having him inside of you, having him inside of you bare. Yet another thing you never gave to Lucas in a year of disappointing sex, but are eagerly giving up to Joel.

“Gotta be a real nasty slut,” Joel says, returning to his place atop your thighs, his thick ones framing yours. Your breath hitches when you feel the weight of his cock gliding through your ass cheeks and down to your cunt. “to let your ex-boyfriend’s coach bareback ya in the locker room.” A heady gasp tears from you when the head of his cock bumps your clit. He teases you — his cock, slippery with a combination of your arousal, skating from your clit to your spasming opening, not quite nudging in.

“Daddy, please – I need it… need you to fuck me, fuck me–”

He doesn’t make you wait any longer.

When he pushes in, it knocks the air out of your lungs. The only proof that you’re still breathing is when you let out a pitchy, desperate moan. Joel grunts, teeth gritted as he flattens himself down against your spine so he can roll his hips into yours. The pain of his size becomes an afterthought just as quickly as the pain of your spanking, dwarfed by the pleasure he gives you just as easily.

“Fuuuuck,” Joel groans, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Inch at a time, he works you open, grinding his hips into your opening. “Could you be any goddamn tighter?” He bites at your neck from behind with every rock of his hips into yours until he bottoms out.

“Big,” is all you manage to squeak out as he hauls you back on his cock, already prodding your g-spot with his head. Your eyes roll back as you clench around him.

His fingers go up to run circles around your shoulder, soothing you, grounding you when his cock has you anything but. “Mmm, I know, I know. You can take it. All whores can.” With that, Joel starts fucking you, really fucking you, a punishing, relentless pace where he pulls out entirely before filling you to the brim. Each snap of his hips into yours fills the locker room with shameless sounds, the mere background to your depraved moans.

“Never had your pussy stretched by a man double your age before, huh?”

“N–no! Never… never had my pussy stretched mu…much at all–”

Joel slams into you, laughs at the strained noise that you make. “Yeah? Those dumbfucks on my team not doin’ it for ya, baby?” You don’t answer, don’t think he’s expecting one until his hand wraps around your front, forearm pressed firm against your tits. His thick hand wraps lightly around your neck, jostling you. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he has over you. The power you allow him to have. It’s invigorating. Everything about him is.

Moans spurt out of you as you fumble to answer, “No da– daddy! You — ah! — do it for m–me!”

“And what do you say for that? For goin’ outta my way to show you what a real fuck is?”

“Thank you, Daddy!” you cry out. You’re spilling down his thighs, the wet suction of your pussy around his cock making noises more vulgar than you’ve ever heard in porn.

His hand squeezes again at your neck, and you feel floaty, a bubble just waiting to pop. Pleasure dances in every one of your veins, every nerve ending burning like a match that he keeps striking ablaze.

“There you go, desperate slut just needs a freshly spanked ass, a good dickin’ down, and a hand ‘round her throat to behave.” Joel’s pace stays just as harsh, crushing your g-spot with his cock. “Should keep you back here for when we lose, tie you to the goddamn desk. Let my staff take turns with you, see how much crybaby you have left in ya when a dozen men’s loads are drippin’ outta your reamed fuckin’ cunt. Bet you like it when men use you.” The whine that almost gags you on its way out is enough to confirm it.

If he keeps talking to you and the wind blows the right way on your clit, you know you’ll be coming. You’re wringing out his cock with every flutter of your pulsing pussy. The beginning embers of your orgasm turn into a wildfire when he wedges his free hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles into your sloppy clit. “Fuck, please, please, please,” you sob out, too riddled with pleasure to care about how pathetic you sound or look as you hump his hand while he pounds you.

“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.” Joel rasps, nipping at your ear. The hand around your throat falls fully to your chest, pressing you solid against him so he can fuck deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s enough to make you scream, hands clawing and scratching down his muscular grip on you. “C’mon, hun, give it to me, come on my cock, fuck.”

With another thrust, he has you pushed right down onto his fingers, rubbing and flicking you every which way. It’s all you need to come undone, your second orgasm of the night unlatching through you like something forked and angry, battering your sore limbs until there’s nothing left of it or you. You’re a mess, spit oozing down your chin as you slur “thank you daddy” like a broken record, thighs clamping around nothing.

Joel groans as you clench around his cock and continues his relentless pace, hips slapping against yours. The hand he’d been using to rub your clit migrates to your tits, grazing and then thumbing and then tugging lightly your nipples. “There it is, told ya you could be a good girl. Lettin’ your daddy use this cunt to get off, lettin’ me use you. I’m fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want me?”

And you want it even if you shouldn’t, want his cum deep inside of you, want it to leak out into your panties as you walk back to your dorm. You’re still no good at making decisions, too fucked out to tell right from left when you beg, “I–inside, fuck, come inside me, daddy, please.”

Joel practically growls at that, thrusts losing their steadiness as his hips jump and he hurtles towards his release. “Yeah, you’re a goddamn whore, beggin’ for this cum. And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, yeah… fuckin’ take it.” He slams all the way into you for the last time before shooting his cum into your cunt, swearing and moaning. Breathing like he’s run a mile, he goes slack on top of you, pets the back of your head while he comes down from the exhilaration of his high.

With a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he rises, and the fantasy is over. His cock slips from your pussy, and you feel hollow with the loss. This is where he tucks himself back into his pants, runs a hand back through his hair, tells you to never show your face in his stadium again, and shoves you out the door.

And he does: tucks his softening cock into his boxers, zips up his khakis, does his belt, tames his post-sex head of hair. You wince even if you expected it, leaning down over the edge of the couch to grab your hoodie, already moving to tug it over your head.

“What do you think you’re doin’?” Joel asks, and his tone sounds much more different than the first time he’d asked you. He sounds offended. You blink confusedly, dazedly at him with your arms halfway through the armholes. “Let me clean you up, hun.” Joel side-steps the pile of your leggings and shoes, adjusting the hoodie on your arms and pulling it down your torso. “I know Lucas ain’t done you right, but you deserve to be taken care of, pretty girl.” Your heart pinches in a way that it shouldn’t, not for a hookup with your ex-boyfriend’s coach.

You shift, and he can’t help but look back between your legs where his cum escapes your hole. He manages to pry his eyes away, but not without licking his lips first. “I’ll be right back, baby. Promise.”

When he’s back, it’s with a damp rag. He crouches down in front of you, taking it to the apex of your thighs and wiping away the combination of your releases, careful not to nudge your sensitive clit. He kisses your thigh gently before pulling back, folding the towel on the arm of the couch you’d been crying into just a few minutes ago.

Joel shimmies your ruined panties up your thighs, followed by your leggings. You let him, breath cut like a snipped wire from the sheer intimacy of it all, intimacy you’d lacked with Lucas even after a year of trying. You’d stayed with him for comfortability at your own expense. How stupid could you have been?

Joel pats your knee, eyes soft and weirdly sincere as he looks at you. “I’m sorry about Lucas, honey, but I meant it when I said you deserve to be taken care of.” He rubs the back of his neck before holding something out to you. A business card, his work number plastered in bold sans-serif font across the bottom. “I know this is in reverse ‘n all, but I’d really like to take you out and treat you right, if you’ll let me.”

Saying yes is your first good decision in a while.

#vetty's words 𓇢𓆸 #joel miller smut #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller/reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller/f! reader #joel miller x you #joel miller one shot #joel miller fic

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rosiesmuts · 7 months

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The Temptations of Jennie Kim

BLACKPINK Jennie

Words: 4,000

A/N: Boo! 👻

Jennie Kim is a pure unadulterated bitch.

Obstacle one is making it past the bouncer; having your name on the guest list makes that an easy task. Obstacle two is the sea of people; a VIP wristband solves that little inconvenience. Your expected prize for completing these side quests is a night of dancing, ending with divulging in the salacious body of a world famous idol. The light at the end of the tunnel is anything but. Obstacle three is something you couldn't see coming. That world famous idol has already found her seat, only it's on the lap of another man.

Your mind goes a million miles a minute trying to figure out a plan:

1) 'I should go up and confront her.' No, causing a scene wouldn't be good for anyone.

2) 'Fuck this I should just go home.' No, I can't let her just win so easily.

3) 'Fuck it, I'm already here, might as well grab a drink.' I guess this is the winner.

Probably not the best plan, but the one you've chosen.

"Don't tell me you're obsessed over her too."

An unfamiliar voice. Your eyes follow the voice, finding yourself face to face with a beautiful woman. It shouldn't be a surprise, this club is crawling with them. Too busy wallowing in your pity to notice her join your table and too late now to do anything about it.

"Huh?" Admittedly not the most suave response, but it's the one that comes blurting out.

"Jennie. Half the guys here are just sitting here staring at her, what's so special about her anyway?"

"Are you really surprised? BLACKPINK is a pretty big deal. Besides I want staring I was just-"

"Look at yourself, you're even sneaking in little peeks while talking to me."

Her hand is placed under your chin, forcing you to finally take a good look at her. You start to speak but she cuts you off.

"What’re you drinking?"

"Whiskey."

It's rare to see a woman take control. And here you were, sitting face to face with one. She flags someone down and orders you a fresh drink.

"What's your name?" You regret your lame choice of ice breaker the moment it's said out loud.

"Unimportant. Let's just have some fun and see where it leads."

Maybe there is a god. So far nothing you've said could be constituted as smooth, yet here she was, still giving you a chance.

Where things led was more surprises: first, a dance. A hot body pressed close and shaking, accompanied by a mind clouding cocktail of scents. Your eyes dart all over her: the glow of the mysterious woman's pale skin under the multicolored lights; her plump lips; her toned midriff.

"Still thinking about Jennie? I think you've got enough room to squeeze me in."

Both her hands come to rest at your hips, gently pushing yours forward and squeezing your body closer to hers. Your eyes lock, the music from the club fades out, and you find yourselves with your noses an inch away. This insanely hot girl, not the one you intended to spend tonight with, but not the worst thing you can think of right now. The tip of her nose brushes yours and her hands push forward one last time, the kiss can only be delayed a second longer.

"What the fuck are you doing?!"

Jennie Kim has some nice timing. Just when you were about to give into this other woman, there was a tug on your shoulder and you're spun around–Jennie Kim's face, contorted with a mixture of anger and jealousy.

"You. Step the fuck back, he's not yours." Jennie shoves her hand out to your impromptu date, but that was apparently not an adequate barrier to keep her away. The girl comes up and wraps around your arm, not allowing Jennie to steal you away.

"He was until you got in my way."

"In case you didn't hear: step the fucking hell away." Jennie is nothing short of livid. People have stopped dancing, staring at the unfolding scene. Your new date notices the attention.

"Fine! He's not worth it anyway." And just like that your new acquaintance storms off, her hips and the smoke trailing from the bottom of her black dress being the last you'll ever see of her.

"Walk. Right. Now." Jennie drags you towards the hallway, likely intent on either berating or maiming you somewhere in private. In any other scenario it would sound like the fantasy of every man in South Korea, but right now you know it's bad.

A private room behind the dancefloor, a much better place to be killed and your corpse dumped than in front of hundreds of witnesses. She shuts the door with a slam hard enough you think it might shatter and locks it with an unnecessarily loud click.

"Who the fuck was that? You've only been here two minutes and you're already on top of another woman?!"

"Hey, hey, fuck you Jennie. Do you know what I saw when I came here? After you invited me? Oh you were totally there, sitting on another man's lap."

"That's not the same."

"Not the same my ass. Can you even begin to explain what it is then? No of course you can't. Because you're a spoiled fucking idol who does whatever the fuck you want."

You turn to leave, but are pulled back and receive a rough slap across the face. There's no pain, only the sudden red color filling up that side of your vision. She did it again. This time it brings with it the burning sensation. A stinging radiates across your cheek, an angry mark that burns more as the adrenaline fades.

Then in almost cliche like fashion you grab her face and slam her into the nearby wall, returning her slap with an aggressive kiss. Jennie doesn't try to pull away, in fact she gives just as much as she receives. If her jealousy made her slap, her frustration makes her kiss harder, her teeth digging in slightly at her efforts.

"Someone is still obsessed with me hmm~?"

"Fuck you." The reply is snarled out through the tears in your teeth.

"Why don't you? Make sure everyone out there knows who you belong to. You weren't even interested in that slut anyway. All you could think about was me."

Any rebuttal was silenced the instant a hand traced the outline of the bulge forming in your jeans. No words need to be said; she's right, there's only her. Her face, her smell, her voice. Jennie bites your collarbone through the shirt to try and get a rise and boy does it. A firm hand groping her behind and pulling her into you, meeting the hardness growing in your jeans. Jennie chuckles, enjoying the reaction.

"Do it. Go ahead."

Jennie fucking Kim. The girl of your dreams. The girl of your nightmares. You've fallen into her trap. What's happening right now can only be described as karma's cruel payback, an attempt to dangle your greatest desire right in front of your nose–before a final humiliating insult is slapped on it.

"You little bitch." Jennie taunts you, unraveling her flirtatious intentions as her skirt rides higher and higher along with your patience. "Go on. Put me through the wall. Pull it out and fuck me as hard as you can."

It would be too easy, wouldn't it? Giving her what she wants after what she did. Instead she's dragged to the couch and bent over you knees. Jennie yelps in surprise, before realizing what's coming to her.

SMACK.

"I didn't say stop." Jennie responds after feeling the forceful slap at her backside.

Another. Jennie cries out, before letting the sweetest sounds come tumbling out of her mouth. Your palm raises once more, pauses, and then swings down and impacts against the exposed skin. A large pink spot forms on the exposed skin as a result and you're starting to think Jennie is actually getting turned on.

"P-please."

"Well since you asked so nicely."

Her panties are brushed to the side and two fingers plunge in and begin exploring without any warning. Jennie squeaks and curls up at the sudden and bold invasion, but it doesn't take long before those two fingers find the sweet spot and stimulate a cascade of pleasurable electricity. In and out they go, aided in their efforts by the squelch of their occupant's excitement. The couch rocks as Jennie arches and bucks wildly, alternating between sporadic whimpers and full on screams of delight.

"I'm so close...so so close..."

Your fingers pull free then another smack against her ass again, interrupting her moment of bliss.

"You think you deserve to cum Jennie? Hmm?"

Jennie answers with an arch to her back, a long, sensual moan that turns into a low pitched growl.

"Yes...Yes...just let me cum please please."

She's grinding at the air, her desperation on full display. You're just a few seconds away from finishing her, of making this cute bitch cry out and go rigid as waves of pleasure radiate all the way from her groin to the rest of her body.

"Feel that pressed against your stomach Jennie? I think you need to suck it. Prove you deserve it."

Her feet meet the ground as she kneels between you legs, and with a final lustful glance, begins to pull away the zipper to your jeans. "You're a real fucker aren't you? Fine, I'll show you."

Down goes your underwear, tossed to the side of the couch, and up Jennie comes with the heaving package in her face. A tiny lick along the bottom of the shaft and then a more robust and adventurous one the entire length. No preamble this time, only the sudden heat and wetness as the girl with a history of petty remarks envelopes your member, coiling her tongue around the sensitive areas and sinking further into your lap.

This girl, Jennie Kim. How can she be so talented at such a crude act? The walls of her mouth shift in a thousand ways as she draws a throaty groan out of you, her tongue expertly knowing all the ways to drive you crazy. This fucking bitch, going deep, purposely drooling all over it, and looking up in satisfaction as she gags and chokes. Up and down she goes, swallowing and sucking back a mouthful every single time she rises. The picture perfect idol, loving nothing more than a throat full of cock, a wide streak of mascara under her eyes and spit all over her face.

The room grows ever hotter, the look in Jennie's eyes begging, imploring for you not to hold back. You sit upright and clutch onto her hair, fingers locking as tight as possible to guide her, taking charge of her bobbing head, sending yourself all the way up to your pelvis. Her arms are limp, her face is a mess, you've reduced a famous singer and model to a panting wreck, and that sight is almost too much.

"Fuck my mouth..." the pleads of the famous superstar when you let her up for air. Her request is granted, her hair gets pulled and the momentum carries your pulsating member all the way to the base. Inch by inch, millimeter by millimeter until the tip of her nose touches the pubic bone and her jaw is stretched as wide as possible, the outline of the member embedded into her throat.

The unholy gags are the hottest fucking thing ever. And the little flutters, her struggle not to cough, the spasms. Jennie Kim, proudest bitch alive. Choking and gagging on your cock, no thoughts in her brain of anything else but to please. She loves it, she wants it. More, more, more, always more, begging with her eyes the only way she could.

With a heavy gasp, you finally let up, letting her burning lungs draw air. While she is a coughing wreck, her face slick with tears and saliva, the thought that fills the forefront of her mind is exactly what's about to happen. The thrill, the idea, the exhilaration, she can't contain the giggling smile.

Jennie was a bad girl, touching herself while you fucked her face, showing off her fingers covered in her own juices and licking them clean. This woman was going to be the end of you, that smirk.

"You and that stupid ass cock." Jennie takes matters into her own hands, straddling your lap, lining up the tip. She's in control, now she'll decide just how far you'll sink into her.

"Dumb fucking whore." Your fingers wrap around her delicate neck. Her eyes widen, not in fear, but in excitement. They darken, her pupils dilating, the clear response to the aggression is reflected in a quickened pulse under the flesh. It isn't surprising the more forceful you get, the wetter she seems to get.

And holy fuck it feels so fucking good, Jennie's lower lips engulfing your tip. The walls of her cavern part and pull you deep within her, her breathing changes pace and volume, whimpering and panting as it sinks in further. She's warm, she's welcoming. Every inch is a bit tighter, the friction causing your heart rate to rise, and her arms, encircling you in a vice grip, coaxing a tighter hold on her throat. You can almost see the lightheaded effect it's having, the subtle shifts in her vision, the dream like daze that accompanies such euphoric sexual bliss.

Up and down Jennie bounces, the tempo of her breathing just a second out of synch, every moan coming just a second later. You don't try to hide your own pleasure either, groaning with a volume only a centimeter away from yelling and definitely noticeable beyond the walls. With a firm slap to the ass, her pussy responds in the best possible way; squeezing tightly for a moment and sending a pleasant shiver down your body.

Jennie fucking Kim. Her tightness, her perky tits, the fucking supermodel and worldwide heartthrob, riding you. That's a story to tell. The sight of this gorgeous bitch bouncing up and down like her life depends on it, the sound of flesh colliding reverberating throughout the room.

Her cries of pleasure come louder, with no sign of the fun ending any time soon. Another thrust and her eyes roll to the top of their sockets. The adorable scrunch in her nose, the contortion of the expression of carnal pleasure, the euphoria right after. The small smirk in the corner of her lips and the grinding of her hips into yours. She's close. Her face gives that away. Her walls pulsate, and if that doesn't sell it the pitch change of the moans certainly do. Her noises shift in timbre. Whines and loud whimpers, the sudden erratic nature.

There's no stopping her now, it's out of your control, and it's fucking beautiful. Jennie fucking Kim, cumming on your lap. Her thighs begin to spasm, a waterfall of juices spilling all the way down to the floor, pooling around your ankles. That fucking face, a cacophony of ecstasy. Then with one final, powerful groan, she suddenly stops. Her eyes shoot open and she curls up, freezing and grinding away. You pull her hair back, forcing the perfect idol to bare her neck and shriek, as her orgasm consumes her senses, her legs thrashing about and toes curled into their arches. Jennie fucking Kim came, her face red and a smile creeping upon the ends of her lips.

It's not over, not even close. Jennie's face a mask of desire, her breathing deep, still needing more, the short, panting breaths catching the tiny pieces of her hair waving across her face.

"Fuck me like you mean it." Jennie goads you on. Your hands wrap around her tiny waist, fingers digging into her flesh, and you start thrusting. Up into her body, down into her lap, each of her downward drops meeting a upward thrust, your hips meeting hers halfway. In no time her squeaky noises are echoing against the walls, your pelvic bones colliding hard, both of your bodies jerking about as you throw everything into each pump. Her eyes turn dark, a drunken gaze. Fuck yes, those lips curling back into a naughty, crazed smile.

"You can't fucking resist it can you?" Jennie screams the question, feeling your hands force her up and slam her back down with your hips surging forward. Her whole body lurching backwards from the impact and then snapping forward from the following motion. Another one, the smack of flesh meeting flesh resounding once more and the squirt of liquids spraying the air and wetting the sides of the couch. Jennie no longer cares, letting her body get fucked and then roughly jammed downwards and impaling herself repeatedly, filling the room with the loud slaps.

"You're nothing but a fucking whore aren't you?" You say it directly to her face and as expected the deprecating talk turns her on like nothing else. A genuine laugh followed by a growl and a "you want this tight pussy all for yourself?"

And another smack, a spank and a squeeze of her delicate ass. Her neck tilts backwards. Yes! Look into those deep pools, her gorgeous, intense stare. Losing control, that face, her mouth, it's open and wet and covered in saliva. That cute kittenish tongue sticking out of the edge of her lips.

Another thrust. Jennie's body flies forward from the impact, a lustful grin stuck on her face, burying your face in her small tits. Her chest jiggles with each pounding, a single moment of freedom followed by an instant of being engulfed in their softness. Those perfect mounds of flesh, enough to drive any sane man or woman mad with obsession, bouncing inches from your eyes, sweat coating their supple surface. Her giggle erupts and she sees that dumb smile plastered all over your face. Her nose rubs against your own. The stare is intense.

"We really fucking hate each other huh?" Jennie teases then goes in for a kiss. A sloppy, messy affair, her nails dig into your back, leaving a series of scratches as her pussy tightens around the engorged member within her. She's cumming again, the contractions drawing out another series of grunts.

"That's right, keep your dumb cock buried inside, you fucking love this tight pussy."

Oh how far this idol has fallen, the foulest mouth coming out the prettiest lips. Then she whispers in your ears to hold her hips tighter and fuck her harder, and fuck did you deliver. Her throaty groans filling your ears, a crescendo and a rapid beating pulse under your palms. You're close, this little superstar making sure you're as deep as you can be and clinging for dear life.

Jennie's hands wrap around your throat, squeezing, choking the life out of you, your vision blurring, and at the same time she's squirting a second wave and shaking violently. Her hips never stop moving, fucking herself silly. She doesn't stop, the nasty smirk has returned and a mumbled string of 'fuck fuck fuck' under her breath.

Jennie fucks you. Those perfect abs, her slim body, the smell of sex radiates all throughout. You're getting lightheaded, this cute piece of ass a violent whirl of raven hair and painful grip. The harder she orgasms, the harder she squeezes your neck. Then, stars start filling your field of vision and your vision goes white, the pulses start firing. Sick sadistic oxygen depravation brings one of the hardest orgasms in your life. That twisted smirk of the psychotic woman, the evil in her gaze as the heat fills the pit of her belly. She feels it, your load splashing inside of her womb. As you release, so do her fingers, the blood rushing back to your brain not a moment too soon.

Her expression, oh how proud she is for her conquest. You couldn't look anywhere else, this perfect devil in front of your eyes. The cute, tingly and erotic feeling flowing from your groin, it never stops and only grows, the continuous shots, emptying everything you have into her. This little fucking bitch, controlling you until the very end.

Jennie fucking Kim sits satisfied as you gasp for air, a mixture of confusion, satisfaction, and pleasure overwhelming your body. That beautiful little smirk, her hips rolling about, enjoying your final twitches before everything softens.

"See, now tell me that wasn't worth the wait."

Jennie collapses forward, a content sigh, a murmur in your ear about how her body feels. Your legs and feet tingle, a sort of numbness and buzz from the powerful waves of euphoria. Jennie stretches like a cat, all while nuzzling against your neck.

She leans in for a kiss, soft, gentle, uncharacteristically kind. Fingers thread into her hair, your palm resting against the side of her neck. She's warm, and tired, the once energetic and brash girl now settling down, almost vulnerable.

"You know why I keep coming back to you?" Jennie seems almost kind, running her hands through your hair and looking at you with loving eyes.

"Must be my big cock." You tease her, pinching her bum, and stealing another kiss in the process.

"Of course you can't be serious for a single fucking minute." Jennie shoves her shoulder against yours. "No you idiot. When we fuck, it's so fucking good. And look at you. Trying to act all tough, but when I tell you to fuck me harder you do just that. And when I tell you just like that you don't change pace for a moment."

The affection, her soft words. Jennie Kim loves to act hard, to show herself off. There's the world's most famous pop star, snuggled into your shoulder. Her finger tracing along the outline of your chin, the last few beads of sweat dripping down her forehead and her eyelashes. Jennie almost looks sweet, smiling down upon you. That signature gummy smile, the tiny dimple on one side. How can someone so rough, have such a charming side?

"Give me your jacket fucker."

Now this, this was much more of a Jennie thing to say. What a cute and silly request after something as passionate as what the two of you did. Jennie's sweat soaked body. Your brain is a fog, still lost in the moment, struggling to take the demand seriously, still looking at those flawless thighs, now tinged pink.

"I can't leave this place looking like this. You're taking me home. Don't think I'm done with you yet." The look in her eyes, that mischievous glimmer. A girl bent on devouring you. Her knee pressed against your crotch drives you back into reality. "Did you not get the fucking memo? Hurry the fuck up."

There is no shortage of nerve in this girl, and fuck if her confidence and commanding tone isn't doing anything for the part of your brain in charge of desire. If anything, you know she's not exaggerating, she still isn't fucking done. Not by a long shot.

It'll be another long night, the same pattern of anger and lust. Spoiled fucking idol Jennie Kim, turning you into a fucking puppet. Letting you do the strangest things to her in the middle of the night. That bitch. That perfect little devil.

And you wouldn't have it any other way...

#male reader #blackpink smut #blackpink jennie smut #jennie smut

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blarshwritezz · 8 days

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Yanderr mafia boss x male reader prisoner, You are a rival of the mafia boss and your group was defeated by his group, thus becoming his prisoner.

Little did you know, he had lust for you and he decides that you will succumb to his desires whether you want to or not.

A new mafia boss coming right up! But no more new mafia bosses after this, guys. I know they're hot, but my masterlist will suffer also, changing it to leader to avoid confusion hope that's okay

Yandere Mafia Leader x Prisoner Reader

M yan x M reader

TW - general yandere behavior, NSFW, noncon

How long has it been? For how many days have you been held captive here? You couldn't keep track. There weren't any windows or other ways to tell time in your damp cell.

You had to wonder if your comrades were doing alright. You weren't too close to most of them, but you were still worried. You hoped whatever they were going through wasn't much worse than what you were.

The leader of this mafia kept a constant watch on you. There was a single camera in your cell, which really wasn't strange, but you could often hear him right outside your door. He'd often come in and watch you "sleeping".

That was one of the more difficult things to do here; fall asleep. You really didn't struggle this much usually, but between the environment and the whole being watched thing, it wasn't easy.

You hoped you might finally get some rest tonight. Or...whatever time of day it was when you closed your eyes.

Your dreams almost came true...until they were crushed by the fact that you felt something choking you. You opened your eyes, taking only a few seconds to realize what was happening.

The leader was in here again, fucking your mouth! You tried to pull away, but he only gripped your hair and forced himself deeper down your throat.

He groaned as you gagged around his dick. It was almost enough to make him cum.

Oh who was he kidding? He didn't want to hold back. Not this time. With a few more thrusts, his seed was flowing down your throat.

He took both of your wrists in his hand as he pulled out, holding them tightly above your head. His free hand mover to roughly spread your legs apart.

"You're my new fuck toy, got that?" Without warning or preparation, he plunged into your ass with a pleasured groan. "I'll stop torturing you, long as you please me."

You didn't have a choice.

He was fucking you anyway, no care for how rough he was being. In fact, he seemed to like seeing you slightly in pain.

You couldn't get away, his grip on you was too tight. He smirked as you struggled, even though it was useless.

"Stop struggling so much or I'll just have to kill you, and fucking a corpse doesn't sound nearly as appealing."

He leaned down and started biting your neck, licking the blood clean as he did. He made sure the marks would be visible. You were his, everyone should know.

Despite knowing you shouldn't enjoy this, you couldn't stop the moans you made. You couldn't stop your cock from growing hard, twitching as it came closer to climax.

Finally, he slowed down, making you whine pathetically. "You want to cum? Think you deserve it? You just have to tell me you'll be mine. That your body belongs to me." He growled in your ear.

You couldn't! You refused, shaking your head.

"If you say so." He chuckled, pounding into you harder than before. Only to stop right as you were on the edge again.

And that became a cycle. He fucked you hard and stopped over and over until you were a whimpering mess beneath him. And of course, he couldn't be fair. While he denied you the right to cum over and over, he repeatedly filled your asshole with his seed. Over and over again until your insides were painted fully white.

All until you begged him for release. Saying anything for him to let you cum. Even that you and your body belonged to him.

"There's a good boy..." His hands released your now bruised legs and wrists, one moving to your nipple as the other made its way to your ass. In one swift motion, he pulled out and replaced his cock with his fingers. They curled in you, hitting all the right spots.

As his hands worked wonders on you, he took your cock unto his mouth and sucked you off. Pathetic as it was, it didn't take very long before you came. He moaned, the sound vibrating around your cock as he swallowed your cum.

"There we go. Not so difficult, right? And you get to cum like that whenever I want for the rest of your life~"

I think that one was pretty decent! or at least, I really hope so

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dreamauri · 7 months

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┇𝗠𝗬 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 𝗔𝗟𝗟 𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗘 - part one ┇୧ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ :🪴: ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ─ ୨୧ ╮ ┇arranged marriage does not always hold ┇the outcome you expect !! ┇︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦˚₊ ┇ . 🌿 :: pairing — ( max vertsappen x wife! reader ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠genre — ( angst / romance ) ┇ . 🌿 :: ⁠song — ( link ) ┇ . 🫧 :: ⁠word count — ( 709 ) ╰ 🌿 :: ⁠ content warning — ( X )

★ ☆ short start, i think its okay?? ━━━━━━━━

( fic master list | general master list ) ( requests ) ( next )

Why were you so shaky? The paint is going to splatter on your clothes. Stop it. You like this shirt. Stop shaking. You should be happy, Y/N. Be happy.

Blink. It's too blurry, blink! Was your vision always so blurry like this?

Yes.

No it's not. Are you crying? You are, aren't you.

"I'm crying?" You're voice was hoarse and quiet. The whole apartment was quiet and your voice was the first one you've heard in a while.

You'd arrived early in the morning only to be greeted by an empty apartment and silence. Your suitcase was the only noise you could hear as you dragged it to the apartment along with it dropping on the floor once you found the spare key and entered.

Your morning was spent deep cleaning and tidying the foreign flat. The dishes were dusty and the carpet had practically gone trough a hurricane. The only pleasure you had taken is unpacking your clothes ( the only items you could bring along ) and finding a fresh canvas waiting for you outside in the balcony.

You thought maybe taking a small painting session would calm your nerves and cool you down. But it didn't. It didn't at all. All it had done was help all the recent events skin in and settle. This would be your new life now.

Streams of hot tears ran down your eyes damping your cheeks. And while some tears ran downpour neck other dripped from your chin onto the colour palette you held in your hand.

With shaky breaths, the paint brush was set down and your palms were quick to rub dry your eyes and tears.

★ ☆ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"I'm . . . Back." Max sighed as he was greeted with silence. He entered the apartment. It would be pushing it if he expected you to welcome him with a smile and a kiss.

Especially after that small wedding. And especially after being to busy to plan and go on a honeymoon. And especially after not coming to pick you up from the airport when he instead chose to go play a game of paddle with his friends.

Only when he saw you painting in the balcony did he feel guilt swell in his chest. He'd treated you like a package didn't he? Ordered you. But even packages you wait for and greet at the door.

This package had to let herself in, and she had apparently seen the chaotic state of the household and took matters into her own hands. Max now knew that he didn't make the best choices. Maybe he shouldn't greet you all smelly and exhausted. Not the best way to greet your new wife.

Oh but what a wife. Max thought dreamily, the cool water from the shower adjusting the temperature of his body. Your skin and body, a blessing from heaven. Your eyes, beautiful big diamonds. Your hair, golden silk.

A true prize you were. He's always wanted to keep you in his pocket ever since he saw you for the first time in high-school back in the day. And although he was a whole two years younger than you with him in year 9 and you in 11, he couldn't help himself.

"There you are." Max smiled as he finally found you, his hand finding your bicep and stopping you in your track. "Hey." The greeting was gentle and whispered in your ear, his arm finding your waist and pulling you in a kiss.

"Hi." You whispered just as quietly, looking down to avoid his eyes. You always thought they were too blue and big for his head. People with blue eyes always creeped you out.

"I missed you." "You did?" "Of course I did." Max chuckled , pressing another kiss to your lips. "I see you found my gift." He gestured to the window where the canvas sat drying. "I was going to make you something to eat. I didn't know when you were coming. I didn't hear you come in." "That's fine. I was thinking we can go eat . . . out i mean. eat out . . . You want to eat out?" "—Yeah yeah, I can eat out." You nodded quickly, the awkwardness was growing quickly.

#‧˚⊹🪴 ଓ :: 𝗺𝘆 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗸𝘀 ‧₊˚⤾#max verstappen #max #mv1 #mv33 #max x reader #max x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen f1 #max verstappen imagine #formula racing #formula 1 #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 #mv1 x reader #mv33 x reader

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lovifie · 7 days

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For my dear @lyralein (@support un-naughty my girl, you coward!!) and her mastermind of a mind, that came with the (correct) thought that Mr. Alex Keller would be a big shot at French porn.

And et voilà! ✨The porn✨ (and when I say porn, I meant it. There is no plot.)

Masterlist

Working for the CIA has granted Alex the opportunity to visit a multitude of countries, to meet unbelievable people and to push his limits on uncountable occasions.

In a couple too many times he has been at the verge of death, buildings collapsing, missiles flying a tad too close for his liking, friends turned enemies in the blink of an eye… But after all, that's what he signed up for.

Plus, sometimes, it also had some advantages.

Like meeting you.

And hearing your voice so sweetly call for him. “Monsieur, Keller!”

He whips his head around towards the sound of your voice like a dog well trained, turning to look at you standing on the porch of the little palace you lived in.

He drinks you in, standing barefoot on the first step of the short stair, pretty white summer dress accentuating every curve of your body and moving along the jiggle of your body as you effusively waved your hand at him.

He takes advantage of the distance, enough for you to not be able to tell the ungentlemanly places he rests his eyes at. The top of the dress, pulled to the center in a bow and pushing your boobs together calling him in like a siren's song.

He doesn't peel his eyes away from you, unable to do so; walking up to where you stand smiling like an angel upon him.

You shouldn't be calling him. The daughter of the owner of the wine yard shouldn't be talking to the lowest class of the employees. Alex's body is covered on a thin layer of sweat from working outside under the sun, hands grimey with dirt and clothes less than appropriate to be talking to you.

Still, when Alex slightly kicks the stairs to remove the loose dirt from his boots to not bring it inside, you are quick to jump at him, grabbing his hand and pulling him under the shade.

“You shouldn't be working at this time! It's too hot!” You reprimand him, the french accent obvious on your tone making him smile.

“Désolé, mademoiselle…” He attempts to excuse himself, cutting himself short when he sees the offended expression on your face at his french.

“Where did you say you are from again, monsieur Keller?” You ask, trying to switch the language to English again.

Alex looks at you, trying to remember what his last lie was so he can match it. “Quebec.”

You nod, raising your eyebrows at the doubt he is actually from Quebec but choosing to indulge him on his lie. You point to the washbowl on the table, a kind smile still on your face as you order him. “Wash your hands and face, I'll get us something to drink.”

And with that you disappear into the house, letting him the full view of your behind as you walk away. He turns again towards the bowl, using the fresh water to wash off the dirt from his face and hands, cleaning under his nails to make sure not a crumb of dirt has the chance to pollute you.

The door creaks when you open it again, a small tray on your hand that you quickly set on the table beside him. An unnecessary intricate jar full of iced lemon water with two just-as-intricate glasses beside it. But the first thing you grab is the small towel with your family initials embroidered in it.

He picks it up, patting his face and hands dry and checking he did a good job at cleaning himself before handing it back. You drop it on the table, slightly bending forward to pour the water on the glasses, and Alex's eyes are glued to the curve of your ass.

The heat of the summer hits you too, no matter how much of a local you are and he can tell by your clothing choices. The dress you are wearing is so dainty the beauty marks of your skin are visible through the fabric, as well as your lack of underwear.

It causes Alex to swallow a groan at his reaction over such a small detail when he feels his dick stir on his pants at the thought of pulling your dress up. His hand moves on its own, creeping closer and closer towards the flimsy material keeping the touch of your skin from him.

You turn around, filled glass in hand, jumping when you feel his hand rest on the curve of your hip but still, you look at him with the warmest smile on your face. You look down to where his hand is placed, looking at him with a raised eyebrow.

“So pretty…” He mumbles, grabbing the glass on your hand without moving his other hand.

“The dress?” You ask, warmth rising to your cheeks at his touch while you try not to break the contact with his blue eyes.

Alex furrowed his eyebrows for a second confused before softening his expression. “...yeah, pretty dress.”

He is the one to break eye contact, dragging his eyes over your body, down to the hem of your dress. He bends forwards, glass still on his hand as the other moves to rest right where the dress ends.

Teasingly, he walks his middle and pointer fingers up your thigh, flicking the skirt up with each step and exposing more bare skin of the leg, while you watch on with bated breath.

He looks at your face again, so he doesn't miss your expression when he finally lets the palm of his hand rest on the softness of your thigh; dangerously close to your core.

“Monsieur Ke- Monsieur Keller!” You call him, trying to sound scandalized when he starts to close his hand, the fat of your inner thigh being squeezed.

But no matter how appalled you try to look, leaning back against the table; Alex notices how you slightly pull your thighs together, pushing his hand towards the middle in the process.

He turns his wrist in one swift motion, with the palm of his hand resting on your cunt. Making you jump to wrap your hand around his wrist, keeping his hand between your thighs as you squeeze them together.

His index finger moves between your folds making you whine as you close your eyes, your hold on his wrist losing strength. It doesn't take long for him to feel wetness dribble over his digit. The feeling making you unclench your legs, allowing him more space between them.

The arousal slowly dripping from your core allows him to slide more easily his finger along your folds, making it easy for him to probe at your entrance, making you close your eyes as little moans and whimpers start to fall from your lips.

Such delicious sounds making him thirsty, but not for the glass of water on his hand. He tries to set it down on the table, but unable to peel his eyes from your pleasured expression he knocks it down making the water run over the surface of the table.

It snaps you out of it, finally pushing his hand away and you stand, turning around to pick up the glass. “I- I better clean it up.” You hurriedly say as you place the glass back on the tray as well as everything else on the table.

He tries to call your name when you turn, but his words die on the back of his throat when he sees the wet fabric of your dress stuck to your plush ass. And it is enough to have him walk behind you, following you inside the house and into the kitchen just a couple of steps behind you.

“You were right, I shouldn't have been working…” He says, making you turn once more with a surprised expression on your face. “I think I might be overheating, mademoiselle...”

You look up to him as he walks closer to you, unable to say anything, intoxicating on his proximity. And when his hands finally wrap themselves around your waist, pulling you against his hard chest and his lips crash against your, the only thing you can do is kiss him back.

He moves his hands up, cupping your face as he hums at the satisfaction of finally feeling your lips against his. Then takes one more step forwards, keeping you trapped between the countertop and his body.

You can feel his groin pressed against your abdomen, feeling it grow and harden with each swim of his hips against your body. The need to feel his skin under your touch making you pull his shirt out of his trouser so you can bury your hand under, your nails dragging over the firm muscle of his waist.

His lips pull apart from yours to kiss his way down your neck, sucking your taste in and letting his tongue roam flat against your skin, feeling your pulse rise up at his actions.

One of your hands moves to the back of his head, tangling your fingers with his hair as you push his face into your neck. “Alex…” You softly moan when his tongue presses on the juncture of your neck and shoulder.

He shushes you, smile appearing on his face. “Now, now, sunshine… Where did Monsieur Keller go?” He asks, pulling back, standing to his whole height as he lets his hands rest on the counter behind you, caging you in. “Let's not lose our manners, alright?”

You nod, mimicking his movements when he does; you mind already getting driven by your body and not your brain. You follow his gaze when he looks down and see his hands pulling your dress up again. He licks his lips at the sight of your thighs trembling with anticipation and he knows that if he pulled them apart they would be glossy with your arousal sliding down.

He chuckles when he sees you look so bashful, averting his eyes but still unable to look away from him, needing to see what his next move will be.

To your dissatisfaction, he lets the dress down; which makes you look at him with questioning doe eyes when he steps back. You are about to question the reason for his change of heart when you see him pull the chair from the kitchen table.

He turns it, sliding it until it's right in front of you. You look from the chair to his face, questioning his plan; and instead of answering your unspoken question he simply sits down, pushing it even more forward. He pulls your dress up again, stuffing the hem of the dress into your cleavage as if it was a napkin to keep it away from his meal.

He pushes down on your chest with the same movement making you lean back on the counter, propped up on your elbows and with a seamless movement, he slides his hands behind your knees and effortlessly moves then to rest over his shoulders.

The surprise of the movement combined with the way he presses his tongue flat against your folds takes every ounce of strength away from your body making you lay flat on your back.

He groans at the taste of your arousal on his tongue, his fingertips sinking into the fat of your thighs around his head when he dives in again. Sliding his tongue between your folds, catching at your clit with a flick.

It makes your thigh tremble, threatening to close; which only encourages him further. Repeating the motion, feeling them flex on each side of his head; his hearing getting muffled with each stripe he licks.

But no matter how tightly you suffocate his skull between them, he can still hear loud and clear the moans and whines dripping from your lips.

He finally opens his eyes, not even aware that he had closed them as soon as he got a taste, letting the rest of his senses enjoy your body. But once he opens his eyes, he can't close them back.

From between your legs, the first thing he sees is your abdomen flexing at the feeling of his mouth lapping at your clit, your back arching at the attack of his tongue. The dress that he so carelessly stuffed on itself, sliding out of your cleavage with your movements. He wishes he could undo the bow keeping your boobs from his prying eyes, but not yet, not when he can prolong it and savor every minute for longer.

The only thing he doesn't love it's that he can't see your face, your head falling back; only letting him see your chin. He wishes he could see your face, see the product of his work in the shape of a pleasured expression just the way he's listening. But he'll see it later, when he's buried deep into you.

For now, he buries his tongue as deep as he cans into your cunt, feeling your inner walls clamp down on it when his nose rubs against your clit deliciously as he shakes his head. It makes you spread your legs, urging him deeper with a hand on his head. You manage to prop yourself on your free elbow, looking down at him. With your fingers tangled on his brunette hair and his fingers digging into the meat of your thigh to keep you close.

His pupils are blown, two black voids looking at you when you finally manage to make eye contact with him for a fraction of a second; before it is the last drop throwing you over the edge.

Your legs closing against his head again, unable to muffle the moan of his name as you come down from your high. His head is pressed so tightly against your cunt he can't even breath, but he would so gladly die there.

The moment your legs free his head he pulls back just enough to breathe, inhaling your smell in the way. He kisses the inner side of your tight leaving a wet spot and then stands again, standing between your legs licking his lips like an animal after eating.

The sight of your body, sprawled and fucked under him, get his dick impossibly harder. Then you raise your hand, using your thumb to collect the juices left on his mustache and before you can pull your hand back to lick it yourself, he grabs your wrist keeping it close and sucks your finger into his mouth. His scorching hot tongue cleaning the juices from your hand without breaking eye contact, it makes you whimper softly; cupping his face with your thumb still inside his mouth and you pull him closer.

“Monsieur Keller…” You whine, calling him like a moth to a light. “Please…”

“I know, love, I know.” He says once he pulls your finger out and he kisses you softly, tasting yourself on his tongue. His hands find their way around your waist pulling you closer and you circle his hips with his legs.

He picks you up, just for a second before sitting back down on the chair with you on his lap. Your hands rest on his shoulders, being you the one to kiss him this time. He can feel you grind your hips against him, the softest whine falling from your lips at the feel of the rough material of his jeans against your sensible cunt.

He moves his hand down, undoing his belt so he can pull his length free. You wish you could see it, but the dress serves as a tent when it slaps against his abdomen. The little wet spot of his seed turning translucent the fabric so you can see the red tip underneath, angry with the lack of attention.

You raise your hips, letting him slap his length against your folds; your arousal getting it slicked and desperate for the feeling of your warm walls engulfing him like a vice.

But he's not the only one desperate for it, and the moment his tip catches on your entrance you pull down in a swift motion taking all of him in, moaning into each other's mouths at the feeling. His hands rests on your hips, keeping you in place.

“Stay there for me, sweetheart.” He moans, head falling back over the backrest of the chair. “Just keep it in for me, fuck…”

His hips move in the smallest thrust, the movement would pass unnoticed if it wasn't for how deep it reaches inside of you. He finally pulls his head back up, coming face to face with your chest. And no matter how pretty the dress is or how good it looks on you, it's the only thing keeping him from seeing you and it's time it goes away.

His hands grab each side of the bow, easily getting it undone and groaning when your boobs finally spill over. He hugs your middle, burying his face between your breasts taking your aroma in before he starts to lap at them.

Licking, sucking and biting every centimeter, his hips immobile making you whine pathetically at the delicious torture of both his attention and the lack of it.

You whine his name again, needing more than just his mouth on your chest. “I know, I know, sweetheart. Just let me taste you some more…” He tries to say, words dying down on his throat when you begin to move your hips.

“T-tu… tu es… trés…” He tries to say again, so enamored with the feel of your tight cunt around his cock it makes him switch languages.

He doesn't get to finish his attempt before you push your hand over his mouth, pushing his head back. “Enough with the shitty French, Monsieur Keller…” You moan, the feeling of his length hitting every sweet spot inside of you getting ruined by his continuous butchering of your language.

He apologised against your hand, doing it again when you beg him to fuck you, your thighs getting tired of the cramped position. He pulls your dress up, pulling it off your body, finally having you completely exposed to him. His hands roam your body, getting distracted from his original plan.

Only remembering when you whine his name again, picking you up to lay you down on the kitchen table like the most precious and delicate piece of art. You prop yourself up on your elbows, looking at him with lust and hunger in your eyes.

He spreads your legs, laying his dick flat against your folds, sliding it in between making the two of you moan softly. It finally gives you the chance to catch a glimpse of his length.

The droplet of precum slowly falls over your mount of venus when he glides forwards, allowing you to see the glistering layer of your arousal mixing with his.

He moves you to lay on your side, moving your leg up, your knee almost touching your shoulder when you prop yourself up on your elbow. And at the same time he buries himself to the hilt, the double stretch making your mouth fall open as you look at him, a deaf moan waiting to be spilled.

“Big stretch, sweetheart “ He grunts as he sets himself inside of you, bending down to kiss your open mouth. He might have already been inside of you when you were both sitting down, but the new position has you feeling it all again as if he didn't.

The moan finally comes to life when his hand meets his shaft, collecting the fluids flooding for your cunt to wet his thumb and rubbing soft circles around your clit. You moan his name, your hand grabbing his shirt to ground yourself.

“Fucking hell, sunshine… Taking me so fucking good…” He moans, hiding his face on the crook of your neck. “Fuck… This cunt was fucking made to take me, love. Fucking perfect, you are. My fucking perfect sunshine.”

His thrusts start to pick up the pace, the sound of skin slapping on skin getting louder and louder; only overshadowed by the song of moans falling from one mouth to the other.

He is still almost completely dressed, his pants still over the curve of his ass. So slowly sliding down with each snap of his hips, the belt clinking with each movement. It works as proof of his desperation to be inside, no matter how uncomfortable the clothes are, it is not worth it wasting time on taking it off.

Not when your cunt is sucking him in so deliciously, each rub at your hooded clit making you clench around him; urging him impossibly deeper. His shaft dragging along your wall, caressing each and every sweet spot inside of you.

It has you closing your eyes with your eyebrows furrowed, an expression that would make him think you were in pain if it wasn't by the loud moans of his name leaving your lips like a mantra.

“Open your eyes, please, sweetheart… Look at me, love.” He moans, moving his free hand to cup your face so you will look at him. Resting his forehead against yours, your breath hitting his chin. “I wanna see your pretty face when you cum, sweetheart, please.”

You finally open your eyes, looking right into his when he slightly moves back and it is like an arrow went through his heart. He notices how your free hand grabs the arm on your face, not wanting to let escape any kind of contact and his heart melts when he notices you lay your face on his hand, kissing his palm.

Such a small gesture that has his blood rushing to his head making the tip of his ears blush, as if he wasn't balls deep into you. But he feels his ball tighten with the want for release, and he can't miss the opportunity to feel you come undone around his dick.

So using every ounce of self restraint he pulls the hand from your face away, moving it back to where you are connected, rubbing his thumb over your clit making you mewl.

He can feel you get tighter and tighter as your orgasm approaches, making it harder for him to move freely at the immensely pleasurable feeling.

It's only when he finally feels you unclench, your head falling back in a silent cry and your legs shaking slightly; that he feels you cum, your arousal spurting out of your drenched cunt with each thrust of his hips.

He groans, having missed your fuck out expression when you let your head fall and deprived him of the desired sight. So he moves his hand from your clit, moving it to the back of your head to move it forward so you look right at him.

And you look so beautiful, if he died right there he would die happy, so he can't help himself when he bends forwards, kissing you sloppy and nasty with his horny brain.

The last thrusts of his hips hard and deep making you bounce and whine, moaning softly and long when you feel him spill deep inside of you. A shiver running down your spine at the warm sensation, your hand on his shirt falling down to help you support yourself.

And it's when you pull apart from the kiss, hair sticking to your forehead from the sweat, your chest rising at an unsteady pace and your cunt still pulsing around his length that he realizes how deep under his skin you have buried yourself.

He can't keep living like this, not able to sleep in the same bed as you every night, waiting for another opportunity like this, hoping everyday will be the day. He needs to see your smile everyday, to have your number, for you to have his surname, everything. Absolute smitten with you, enamored even. Falling so deep in love after such a short period of time, his heart aching at the thought of pulling away, how could he not love you when you are so obviously his soulmat-

“D'accord! That was a good one, let's wrap everything up, tout le monde!” The director shouts, bringing the situation down on Alex.

He suddenly realizes everyone around the two of you, the cameras, the crew, the assistants, the director.

The whole vineyard owner's daughter plot of the porn movie was a bit odd from the beginning, but when he laid his eyes on him he didn't give a damn about the plot.

Being a CIA agent had made Alex live in strange situations, but starring on a porn movie in a foreign country had to be the top one.

He barely remembers how this was related with the mission, something about some suspicious money being moved along with the crew. But in all honesty, he would also move all his money after you.

Especially when you clench for a last time around his girth, the aftershock of you orgasm that makes him groan as he finally pulls out. “Sorry” The two of you mumble, chuckling at the echo and blushing like you didn't just fuck eachother brains off.

He helps you stand back on your feet, his hands resting on your waist and unable to peel his eyes away from your face.

“Are you alright, Alex?” You ask, rubbing his biceps in a consoling way.

And you look at him so softly, almost unaffected by the whole ordeal, that it sends Alex into a spiral. Were those noises you were making real? Was the way you were clinging onto his shoulder true? Would you moan his name just like you moaned his surname?

He needed to know the answer to those questions, and there was only one way to find out.

“Y-Yeah, don't worry about it, love.” He says making you smile wider. “But I was wondering… do you know any good restaurants in the area? Maybe one you wouldn't mind having dinner at with me?”

Taglist: @crashtestbunny @going-to-ikea-for-the-fries @waiting-so-long @mothymunson @whos-fran

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@yuki2129 @mikaronn @idk-justkane

#call of duty #cod #cod x reader #cod modern warfare #call of duty modern warfare #call of duty x reader #alex keller #alex keller fanfic #alex keller x reader #alex keller smut #cod smut #call of duty smut #cod fic #alex keller fic #alex keller x female reader #call of duty alex keller #alex keller call of duty #alex keller cod

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empresskylo · 8 months

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beneath the mask ✩ chapter 6 ⬅ch.5

➠𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈; 𝟏𝟖+ 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓; 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐂𝐈𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 ➠SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X AFAB!READER ➠CHAPTER TAGS | afab!reader. mean!ghost. wc 3.7k ➠AUTHOR'S NOTE | not in love with this chapter, but i am in love with the tension. enjoy hehe

𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐤 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐜𝐨𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ✩ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

you walked out of your room in the safe house, tugging on and securing your tactical vest as you did. you made your way into the living room and found ghost seated, propped backwards, legs spread slightly, and his arm resting on the armrest of the couch as if he was comfortably seated to watch a sports game.

your feet faltered, hesitating slightly once you saw him, his eyes sharply following your movements. “where is everyone?” you asked, looking around. you peeked into the kitchen and found it desolate.

“left.”

you gave him a puzzled look, having no choice but to walk further into his space and sit across from him. you sat close to the edge, your body tight and closed off–a much more tense position than ghost was in.

“got intel hassan’s men are on the move. soap and the others went to follow the lead.”

“so, why are we still here?”

he shifted in his seat, slouching even further into the couch. you felt your heart race–it wasn’t your fault he looked so damn good spread out before you like he didn’t have a care in the world.

“we’re waitin’. gonna follow in a bit. make sure this wasn’t all a diversion. i got a feelin’ i know where they might actually be headin’.”

you nodded, rubbing your hands on your thighs as a distraction from the intimacy of the situation. “but why me?”

you wondered if ghost was smiling at all under his mask–or making any sort of gesture in general. “you were the only one still asleep. just made sense it’d be you t’stay back with me.”

“oh.” you weren't sure what you expected, but hearing that he chose you out of simplicity stung even though it shouldn't. you had to stop letting your feelings get in the way.

you felt the awkwardness surrounding you and you alone, like you were the only one experiencing it. ghost looked so cool and collected–it was actually starting to piss you off. you wondered how he always did it.

“when do we know when to leave?”

“soap’s gonna give me word once he’s at the location.”

“and in the meantime?”

“we wait.”

“i know that. but…like…what do we do?”

“you’re askin’ me how to keep yourself entertained?”

your face went hot. you weren’t used to extended missions. you never had to wait. you weren’t sure how you should be preparing or if you should be looking some dossiers over. obviously, you weren’t asking ghost how to keep yourself entertained, and he knew that. it's like he got off on making you embarrassed.

and just that thought alone, imagining what he got off to–which was a joke–sent a rush of butterflies to your stomach. you tried to hide the increasing way your face flushed by pulling up your mask to cover your mouth and nose.

an hour passed and you were sat on the floor, across the room from ghost, your medical supplies sprawled out before you. you had sorted everything twice now and were trying to neatly organize everything back into your bag. you were bored out of your mind as you grouped things together on the carpet.

two combat boots appeared in your peripheral vision and you gulped. you slowly traced up ghost’s body until you reached his eyes that were looking down at you, his arms crossed.

“what’re you doin’?” he asked.

“oh, uhm. i was just going through my med bag. reorganizing and taking inventory...” your voice trailed off.

to your astonishment, ghost sank to the floor, crossing his legs and hunching over. your eyes widened as you watched him look over your tools spread out on the carpeted floor, too afraid to speak or you might ruin the moment.

was ghost bored too? a sense of dread and anxiety pooled in your stomach. you felt like that night over a week ago where ghost told you his real name and you lectured him on letting people in, brought you closer in a sense. yet the two of you decided to ignore that connection, instead acting like nothing had even happened.

it appears i’ve grown… to like you. his words rang in your head. life is pretty fuckin’ miserable when the people you let in leave you.

“what’s that?” he asked, pointing to an unmarked tube and making you refocus your attention.

“oh, that’s just a hemostatic agent. i use it to stop bleeding. it creates a sort of instant scab,” you said, gesturing your hands around nervously as you spoke.

he seemed pensive as he continued to look over your artillery. “and that?”

“that's a cricothyrotomy kit. you know… for keeping the airway open.”

he nodded. “and in that case there?”

“my automated external defibrillator.” you smiled at him. “got a new one recently. It’s very fancy," you said, widening your grin and mimicking his accent.

ghost made a humming noise, acknowledging that he heard you.

“you always carry all this around?”

“i mean… yeah.”

“just seems like a lot for someone of your... caliber.” yes, you knew you weren't as strong as the other men, being a medic and all, but that didn't matter to you. you didn't care how heavy your bag was. you'd carry around anything and everything you needed with the potential to save someone's life.

you knew ghost was already aware of this information, too. he’d been in the military for how long? 10 years at least. but you humored him anyway. he was probably looking for something to occupy his time. you wondered if he was used to more exciting companions and that made you suddenly self-conscious of your entertainment value.

“you never know what kind of situation you might run into out there. it’s good to always be prepared.” you worked on shoving everything back into your bag, strapping things into their proper slots.

you finished zipping up your bag when you spoke again. “want to play a game?” your face immediately went hot at your words. you sounded so stupid.

your eyes slowly looked up to meet his. ghost leaned backwards on his hands, watching you intently. “what kinda game?”

“uh,” you thought for a moment, pushing your bag to beside you. “there's one i know, where you say something you’ve never done, but are hoping the other person has. if the other person did do the thing, they put a finger down. whoever has all 5 fingers down first, loses.”

“mmm.” he hummed, thinking. “what happens to the loser?”

“oh, i don’t know, actually,” you anxiously twirled your hands together. “it’s usually a drinking game so…”

“for fun then,” he muttered, setting you back at ease from your overthinking.

you looked at him, wishing you could see his face right now to get a better read on what he was thinking.

“you first,” he said.

“right.” you took a moment to think before speaking. “i have never… killed anybody.”

he snorted, making you jump slightly in bewilderment. “so we’re gonna play like that, huh?” he challenged, almost playfully.

your chest began to beat rapidly. ghost held up his hand and put one finger down before resting back on it.

you smiled as he lulled over his thoughts. “i’ve neva amputated someone’s leg.”

you puffed out a breath of air. “that’s cheating!”

“you didn’t set any rules,” he said matter-of-factly, but with a clear smirk on his lips.

“you’re supposed to say things that you’re not entirely sure the other person has done, otherwise i could sit here and say i’ve never grown to be six feet tall.”

“six three,” he added.

you scowled at him. "not the point." although, knowing he was that tall made you get goosebumps.

“well, you know for a fact i’ve killed people,” he added, referring to your first prompt. you rolled your eyes knowing he was right and he chuckled. you never thought someone laughing could sound so enchanting.

“we’ll call it even then. from now on, we’ll do things we might not know.”

he nodded. something about this game felt so intimate as he sat across from you, staring at nothing other than you. you gulped under the pressure.

“i have never…” you wondered what’s something you’ve never done that ghost has. he was quite a few years older than you and experienced in every sense of the word, so you figured this might be easy.

you’re not sure why you let your next words escape you, but you immediately regretted them once they did. “...been in love.” your face went red hot at the admission. how fast the game took a turn and it was your own fault.

ghost’s eyes studied you, flickering back and forth between yours. he was unreadable. you waited for him to hold his hand up and put another finger down, but he never did. a small breath left your lips as you watched him look above your head, thinking of another prompt.

you clenched your teeth at the newfound information. ghost had never been in love…simon had never been in love.

“i’ve never lied about datin’ soap to get some prick off my back.”

you gasped. “how’d you know?! did soap tell you? that bastard," you cursed, making ghost laugh. you momentarily thought back to the soldier who had been in the infirmary for a week and how he would not stop asking you out no matter how many times you refused. to your relief, soap had overheard one of abundant proposals and swooped in to the rescue, placing a kiss on your forehead and asking you if you still wanted to have lunch together. you may have blushed profusely, but you were so thankful. it was rather annoying that the man thinking you were involved with johnny is what it took for him to stop asking. not your flat-out rejections.

ghost hummed, “jus’ a good guess.”

you eyed him unsure but a smile rose on your lips as you looked down at your boots and thought of another. you liked that he seemed to be enjoying himself. he was laughing. and you had never had the chance to make him laugh.

your back was against the wall and you pulled your knees into your chest, your hands fiddling with your laces. “i have never accidentally shot my gun off.”

ghost raised his hand and put a finger down. your mouth opened and your eyebrows went up. “no way,” you said in disbelief.

“it was a long time ago. no one got hurt,” he assured.

the way ghost spoke led you to believe he may have been a bit flustered at admitting that. you couldn’t believe that that is what it took to bring about a bashful ghost, no matter how slight the flush may be. you wished you could see the pink rise to his cheeks.

ghost looked around the room as he thought. you saw the way his blonde eyelashes reflected the soft light from the corner. his eye makeup was smudged and just barely showed signs of his eyebrows. you marveled at this man you could barely see. you tried to shake your head free of these tormenting thoughts.

“i’ve never joined the military out of the goodness of my heart.”

you scoffed and gestured a finger down before placing your hands on your boots again. “what’d you join for, then?

he shifted his position so his leg was bent out beside him and he leaned to the side on his hand, his other draped over his knee. “not sure anyone can join for a good reason. you end up killing innocent civilians no matter how hard you try to avoid it.”

you swallowed at his answer. maybe he was right. but you weren’t doing the killing, so were you really to blame?

ghost seemed to read your mind. “bein’ a bystander might not be as bad as pullin’ the trigger, but still…”

he saw you close in on yourself as you took in what he was saying. he didn’t want to upset you, but he wasn’t going to pussyfoot around things either.

before he could say more, you spoke, cutting off any more exestential words from ghost. “i have never hurt somebody with no remorse.” your eyes flickered up to his and something dark began to brew in them.

you watched as his body tensed. “is that what ya think of me?”

you shook your head, embarrassed at what you said. you didn’t mean to make it sound like that…

“simon, i didn’t mean–”

his bitter words drowned you out. “i’ve neva had a lil’ crush on my lieutenant, actin’ like this is all a big fuckin’ game.” his sharp eyes snapped to yours, his gaze igniting your skin.

he knew. the bastard knew and now he was poking fun at you. he was pissed off at what you said and now he was going to take it out on you. his short temper sometimes crept up on him at the worst possible times.

you tried to subdue your shocked expression and will the embarrassment and tears away, but it was no use. you swallowed hard and grabbed your bag and stood up. “i don’t want to play anymore.”

you strolled across the room, wanting to hide from ghost. you heard him shuffle as he stood up and sighed. then he called out your name. “wait… i didn’t–”

soap’s voice cut in, grabbing both of your attention. you spun to listen. “ghost! we’re gonna need backup!”

“where are you?” ghost asked, the panic nowhere to be found in his voice.

ghost and soap finished conversing as ghost ushered the two of you out and to the bottom floor. outside of the building you saw only one vehicle sitting in the driveway and it was a motorcycle.

wait… did ghost expect you to–?

“get on,” he demanded, swinging his leg over the bike and starting it up.

you hesitated as you stepped closer to the bike. “i’ve never–��

“we don’t have time. get the fuck on .” his resentful tone startled you.

you were flustered as you awkwardly got on the motorcycle behind him, trying to keep your body from touching his, but it was inevitable.

“no helmets then?” you asked.

ghost turned slightly to look at you behind him. “better hold on,” was his only response.

he didn’t start moving until he felt your arms wrap around him. the second he took off, you were left with no choice to to squeeze your grip around him far tighter so you didn’t fly off the back. you pressed your face to his back and closed your eyes.

after a few minutes, you slowly pried them open and felt your heartbeat begin to steady. it wasn’t so bad. the wind in your hair was actually rather enjoyable.

feeling a bit more confident and realizing how entangled you were with ghost, your hands released him and rested on the part of the bike in front of him. you were already pressed against him, you didn’t want to also be hugging him to death. god, this was so embarrassing . especially after the way he called you out on your infatuation with him. you wanted to curl up in a hole, thanking god if he put you out of your misery.

without warning, ghost used one of his hands to grab your own and he roughly put them around his waist. “don’t fuckin’ let go ,” he growled over his shoulder at you.

a bit astonished, you did as you were told and kept your hands clasped together around ghost’s lower stomach.

ghost slowed his bike as he edged on the location and you peeked to look around his back. you spotted a building engulfed in flames and a cry left your lips. ghost skidded the bike to a stop and hopped off, grabbing you without thinking, lifting then setting you down.

you looked up a him a bit starstruck but he was already belining for the building. “wait! it’s not safe!” you called out to him, nervous he’d run inside.

he tracked around the building's perimeter and found soap and three other teammates leaning over and panting. “what happened?” ghost asked them.

soap’s words turned to nonsense in your mind as you spotted a figure in one of the windows. you looked at ghost and soap before you made a very bad, rash decision, dropping your bag to the graveled ground. instead of speaking up, you booked it for the door of the building.

you heard ghost’s voice shout from behind you but you were already in the building and scouring for the person.

you coughed, pulling up your mask and trying to shield your eyes from the smoke. as you stumbled in the building you realized that it was a house, spotting a couch and dining furniture. you quickly appraised your surroundings. a board fell from the ceiling and made you scream. you jumped backward, just missing the flaming piece of wood and blundered into the next room like a fawn learning to walk.

that's where you saw him. a little boy was huddled in the corner of what appeared to be a child’s bedroom. he was sitting on his bed in front of the window you saw him in earlier. he was trying to open the window but his hands shot back in pain.

you called out to him. “hold on! i’m coming…” you sputtered, coughing again, your eyes watering from the smoke in the air. it was becoming all-consuming, your senses being taken over by the potent smoke and heat.

your name was grunted behind you as ghost wrapped his arm around your waist and hoisted you up into his arms.

“wait! ghost, wait!” you shouted, pointing at the bed behind a wall of flames. “there's a kid!”

ghost turned, still holding you flesh against him in a vise grip. he contemplated for a moment before setting you down. “don’t fuckin’ move!” he demanded and you nodded in panic.

you watched helplessly as ghost jumped over the fire, barely avoiding getting burned, then he pried open the window with an extensive amount of force. he grabbed the kid and you could tell he was saying something to him, before abruptly passing him out the window. a sense of relief flooded through you when you were sure the boy was safely outside.

then ghost turned and made his way back to you. “it’s safer if you just go out the window! i think i can get out–” you began, looking behind you for an escape route. but before you could even finish your sentence, ghost was back by your side and heaving you up into his arms.

“ah!” you gasped. "is this really necessary?" you asked, referring to him carrying you.

“so fuckin’ stupid,” he grumbled at you as he walked over the wreckage and dodged flames. ghost made it back out through the door managing to keep you both out of harm's way. you heard a loud crackle as the building began to cave in on itself and your eyes went wide with shock. the image of you cutting it too close set you on edge.

ghost brought you back to where everyone else was standing around the humvee, and plopped you back on your feet. you were gulping for clean air, soap’s hand landing on your shoulder. “you okay?” he asked you.

you smiled up at him, wiping your face from sweat and smearing ashes across it. “never better.”

“jesus,” he said with a bit of reprieve, “you scared the shit outta–”

soap was pushed to the side as a giant ghost loomed over you, taking his place. “you go run off without orders again, and you’re off the team .” his words were barely anything but a growl.

you gulped, wanting to hide from everyone, especially ghost’s wrath. you spoke, but your voice was husky from the smoke in your lungs and throat. “i’m sorry, i wasn’t thinking… i just wanted to save that boy.”

ghost’s eyes narrowed at you and it sent a shiver down your spine. he hunched over, lining his face with yours, speaking lowly so only you could hear. “you ever scare me like that again…” his voice trailed off as his eyes switched between yours. he took in a breath. “you’re the one who told me to let people in. i’d sooner kick your ass off my fuckin’ team if it meant keepin’ you safe. from leavin’ me . ”

you were bewildered by his words. by his confession. did that mean simon had let you in? or that he was trying to let you in?

before you had a chance to reply–to nod, to thank him, to do anything of the sort–he stepped away, his fists clenched tightly, and got back on his bike.

“come on,” soap said, patting your shoulder. “we’re headin’ back. shit was a bust.”

you watched as ghost rode off down the road, the dirt kicked up behind him. then your eyes turned to the burning building, civilians rushing over with water and attempting to put the flames out.

“what about them?” you asked soap, your feet rooted in place.

soap followed your line of sight. he struggled with his thoughts, but he knew that you have more important things to take care of. hassan is their biggest threat at the moment, and that takes priority. “they got it. come on,” he tried again.

“soap…” you whined slightly, unsure of what to do.

he sighed. “i wish we could help. really. but we gotta get back. shepherd’s orders.”

you looked at him and saw the hurt in his eyes. he hated this just as much as you.

you spied the boy, his mother hugging him tightly and saying something in his ear as he clung to her.

you swallowed and followed soap to the humvee. you’re just as at fault as ghost said you were… being a bystander doesn’t absolve you of your sins.

chapter 7 ➡

#ghost #simon riley #smut #ghost cod #ghost x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod #ghost fanfic #simon riley fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost angst #cod mw2 #cod fic #call of duty fanfic #mw2 fanfic #beneath the mask

631 notes · View notes

ashwhowrites · 8 months

Note

I just saw you wrote a Dad's best friend! Hopper, and I was wondering if you could write a Dad's best friend! Eddie Munson x Harrington! Reader, like what would happen if Steve's daughter falls for Eddie, who's her dad's friend, and maybe Steve finds out about it, Idk, I just thought abt that

.....I kinda love this? I wrote this kinda turned on so it's very sexual

I'm not going to try to figure out the correct math for the age difference so the reader is of age and that's what we are going with

⚠️smutty, age difference

Dad's best friend

Steve and Eddie went back to high school, but the friendship died out after the events of the upside down. Eddie moved out of Hawkins and went for the rockstar life. Steve stayed back and had a family of his own.

Steve hadn't seen Eddie in almost twenty years, but they kept in touch. Eddie wasn't married or had any kids, just touring the world. Steve had a daughter, Y/N. And she reminded Steve of Eddie a lot. She liked the darker colors, listening to her music on the highest volume, and pushing Steve's buttons.

But when Eddie called asking for a place to crash for a while, Steve didn't waste a second to take him in.

~~~

Steve sat next to Eddie at the kitchen counter as Eddie told him stories about life on the road. Eddie was in the middle of a story when a younger girl walked into the kitchen, coming in from the front door. A tiny skirt with lacey tights that disappeared into black boots. A tight tank top showing off her chest perfectly. Eddie had a feeling he shouldn't be looking, Was this Steve's girlfriend or something? Eddie tried to look away, but his eyes ran down the girl's body, his jeans tightening when he saw a tattoo lingering up her thigh.

"Um Y/N, would you mind changing? I have a guest here." Steve groaned, not surprised by his daughter's choice of clothes.

"Seems to me that he isn't bothered." She smirked, a wink in Eddie's direction. But listened to her dad's orders and headed upstairs to change. Eddie felt his face turn red as he was caught. A hand in his lap as he readjusted himself.

"Sorry about her, she likes to push boundaries." Steve joked, standing up as he grabbed himself another beer.

"No worries. Is she your girlfriend?" Eddie asked the question that was stuck in his head. Steve always got the hot ones. And this girl was by far the hottest girl Eddie had seen. And he's slept with countless women and men on his tour. And none matched her.

Steve had an uncomfortable look on his face as he said, "No...she's my daughter." Eddie nearly spit out the beer he was sipping on. His eyes bulging out of his head.

"She's what? She doesn't look...what?" Eddie was lost. She didn't resemble Steve at all.

"She looks just like her mom, but we got a divorce and I got full custody when Y/N was ten. I don't think she enjoys living with her dad all the time." Steve joked.

Eddie's head continued spinning all night. He stayed in the guest bedroom, the door cracked. He could see her door through the small opening. Band posters covered her door and pictures of her friends. Eddie hated the way he felt his cock growing hard as he thought of her behind the door.

It was wrong. She was Steve's daughter and too young. But the small skirt and tattoo flashed through Eddie's mind as he slipped his hand into his boxers. He closed his eyes as he pictured her. The way she'd look riding him in that tiny skirt, having to stay quiet so Steve didn't hear them. Eddie bit his lip so his moans didn't leave his mouth. Working himself closer to an orgasm, lost in the feeling. Cumming in his hand as he breathed through his orgasm. He opened his eyes and sat up. He planned to go to the bathroom to clean up but he froze when he saw her standing at his door, a smirk creeping through the tiny crack of the door. He was frozen as she walked back to her room and closed the door.

~~~

The next morning Eddie walked into the kitchen, Steve was making breakfast. Eddie greeted him as he sat at the table. A hot cup of coffee was placed in front of him, pink nails caught his eye. He looked up and there she was. That same smirk on her face as she sat across from him. She didn't say anything and neither did he. But his eyes devoured the way she looked in her long T-shirt and tiny shorts.

"How was the first night? Is the bed comfy enough?" Steve asked, placing down the eggs as he took a seat at the end of the table.

Eddie blushed at the question, nodding his head as he sipped his coffee. "Yeah, it was fine."

"Y/N didn't keep you up, did she? She likes to stay up late and make noise." Steve joked, punching his daughter's arm lightly.

"I didn't keep him up..on purpose." She smiled.

~~~

Within a month, she was driving Eddie insane. Her small outfits, walking around in towels and making comments. Eddie felt like he was being tortured but he loved it. But there were moments where it felt like they were connecting. Conversations on the front step as they shared a cigarette. Movie nights where Steve passed out a minute in, so they talked through the rest of it. She played her games, but she also opened up to him and he saw all the layers that were made of her.

"I'll be back on Monday, please be nice to Eddie and help him out," Steve said as he grabbed his suitcase.

"I will!" Y/N promised as she hugged her dad goodbye. Once he walked out the door, she raced to her bedroom. Eddie was out at the moment, and it gave her the perfect amount of time.

~~~

Eddie pulled into the driveway, a little confused to see Steve's car was gone. He walked in and yelled out for anyone, but no one replied. He shrugged his shoulders as he walked up to his room. He opened his door but froze on the spot.

Y/N sat on her knees on his bed. A red lacey bra on her chest and red underwear to match. Red bows on her thighs as it connected to her garter. Fishnets covered her legs. She leaned over so her breasts practically spilled out of the bra.

"Cat got your tongue?" She asked, a pout on her face as she sat up.

Eddie was trying his best to look somewhere else, but he wanted to soak her in. Her skin looked soft and warm. Her skin glowed and looked perfect, he wanted to destroy it with bite marks.

"What are you doing?" Eddie finally got out. She laughed as she stood up. Now walking towards him.

"Trying to fuck you, isn't it obvious?" She joked, her hands running up and down his chest. She teased him with her fingernails as she turned her head to stare at him.

"Your dad.." he started but Y/N cut him off. "He's gone for the weekend. Don't worry about him. I know you want this and I know you think of me when you jerk off."

Eddie hated that he was caught. "I think of you when I touch myself too." She whispered as she reached her hands into his hair. Tugging slightly, falling into the sound of his grunt. Eddie's mind was going blank, just the images of how she looked fucking herself to him. Just a few feet away from his room.

"You're his daughter, this can't happen." He finally got out, removing her hands from him. Forcing himself to step back and collect his thoughts. He was older and he needed to act like it.

"Forget about him! I like you and you like me, don't you?" She asked. Eddie knew he did, it went way past sexual. She was smart and creative. He loved spending time with her, the nights she was sweet and they just got to talk. He learned so much about her and he felt himself falling for her. But he couldn't do that to Steve.

The silence was eating her alive. Did she read him wrong? She could have sworn he was interested in her. The way he stared at her when she talked, the way he always gave her more of the blanket during movie nights. She had a crush on him and she made it obvious. He never seemed uncomfortable or wanted to turn her away. Until now, at least.

"You don't, do you?" She whispered. Embarrassment fled through her body like a flood. She felt like an idiot. Standing there in lingerie she purposely bought for her dad's fucking best friend. How could she be so dumb?

She felt the need to cry, but she forced it back as she quickly pushed past him and raced into her bedroom. She slammed the door and raced to change into normal clothes. She felt the tears falling as she yanked the lingerie off of herself. She felt like the material was burning her.

She froze when she heard knocks on her door.

"Y/N, can we talk?" Usually his voice made her melt, but it made her feel cold.

"No" she spat as she shoved the lingerie into the trash.

"Please? I'm sorry! We just can't happen. I'm your dad's friend and he took me in. I can't fuck that up and I can't ruin your relationship with him. You deserve someone who is put together and someone your age." He tried to explain, but all she heard was the rejection. He didn't like her. He didn't want her. All those nights where she thought he felt something wasn't real.

Eddie sighed as he heard silence on the other side of the door. He was an idiot. He knew he was making the right choice for her. She was young and didn't know what she was getting into with him.

~~~

Eddie didn't see her at all the next morning, she never left her room. Not for food, the bathroom, or anything. He knocked every hour but nothing. He was really worried about her, but he knew it wasn't his place to worry about her.

It was Saturday night and Eddie ordered a pizza, he got one for her as well, if she made her way downstairs. As he set it on the counter, the house phone rang. He picked it up once he saw Steve's name.

"Hey! Is Y/N there? She won't pick up her phone." Steve said, Eddie quickly talked to him and walked up the stairs.

Knocking on her door, "Your dad is on the phone!" He yelled through the door. And to his surprise, she opened the door.

A dead look on her face as she grabbed the phone and slammed the door. But Eddie was confused about her outfit. She was dressed up. She was in a tiny black dress, tights and those boots again. Her makeup is done with red lips and winged eyeliner. Her hair rested on her shoulders.

He waited outside the door, hearing her hang up as she opened the door. Knocking right into Eddie, not expecting him to still be there.

"eavesdropping much?" She spat as she walked past him and headed for the stairs.

"Where are you going?" He asked, following her down the stairs. Hating that his cock was growing hard under his sweatpants as the dress rolled up her thighs.

"A party." She kept it short as she grabbed her keys.

"Do you plan to drink? I can pick you up." Eddie offered, but the same dead look was on her face.

"I can take care of myself, and I don't need a babysitter." She spat as she went out the door.

~~~

Eddie tried to wait up in case she called. But it was nearly two in the morning and he was exhausted. He cleaned up the kitchen and living room. And headed to his room.

He fell asleep fast, waking up when he heard the front door slam and giggles echoing through the empty house. He sighed as he rolled out of bed, throwing on a shirt. He opened his door and caught the shadows of two people bumping around as they worked their way into her room.

He had a sick feeling in his stomach and a feeling of absolute rage filling his bones. He flicked on the hallway light, his eyes glaring as he took in the boy who was groping her with no care in the world. Her dress flipped up, and Eddie could see the familiar laced underwear from the other night. It was almost like a punch in his gut. He didn't like knowing she dressed up for someone else, the same way she tried for him.

"Privacy please." She snickered, shoving the boy into her room as she slammed the door behind her.

Eddie wanted to break down the door and grab that asshole by his throat. And beat the shit out of him, but he couldn't. He needed to get his jealousy in check.

He shut his door and got back in bed. Within seconds he could hear her moaning down the hallway. She was as angelic as he thought she would be. She sounded memorizing, he almost forgot that he wasn't pulling the sounds from her. But the reminder traveled to his ears when he heard her moaning a name that wasn't his. He couldn't tell if she was purposely torturing him or if she was truly having the best sex of her life. He prayed it was the first one. He prayed that she wasn't enjoying a second of it. That she was picturing Eddie instead. Her eyes were closed and she drowned in the fantasy of Eddie touching her in the ways they both wanted more than anything.

~~~

The next morning, Eddie was worried about seeing her. But Steve came home tomorrow and he'd instantly pick up on the weird energy between them.

So he told himself to be an adult and leave his room. He heard sounds in the kitchen, he slowly walked towards the sounds. Breathing a sigh of relief to see her alone she mixed her coffee. Eddie felt a lump in his throat as he saw the marks all over her skin. The skin Eddie wanted to mark as his. Now it was covered in some asshole from a party that probably didn't treasure her body the way it deserved.

She didn't say a word, and neither did he. He slid next to her to make his coffee but stopped when she placed the mug in front of him. Already filled and made the way he liked. He smiled at the action and went to say thank you but she already walked out.

He quickly followed her, stopping her bedroom door before it shut.

"Can we talk?" He asked again

She sighed and walked to her bed. She sat on it as she sipped her coffee. He followed behind her. His stomach was in knots as he saw her dress and lingerie scattered all around the floor.

"I didn't mean to hurt you." He admitted, keeping his eyes on her as she looked down at her cup. She shrugged her shoulders, "I kinda hurt myself, Eddie. It's okay." She said

"Why do you think that?" He asked, he wasn't sure what she meant by hurting herself.

"I mean that I had this whole idea that you liked me and you were attracted to me. I thought maybe you wanted me in the same way I wanted you. But I figured you didn't want to make any moves since you didn't want to be disrespectful to my dad. So I thought if I made the move for us...I don't know." She scoffed. Hearing herself out loud reminded her how dumb she was acting.

"But, you turned me away," she said sadly, finally looking at him. His eyes stared into hers, seeing the slight water that was filling. "I bought the sexiest lingerie I could find for you, and made an absolute fool of myself by throwing myself at you like a desperate whore. " she laughed at herself, her eyes now back on the cup. "I hurt myself by thinking you fell for me too."

"Y/N..." he tried but she cut him off. "But you were right. I mean my dad would never agree to this. He would hate me even more than he does now. And I'd make him hate you, and you are the only friend he has now. I need to stop ruining his life." She cried, wiping her tears as she cuddled into herself.

"He doesn't hate you at all. He adores you." Eddie tried but she shook her head. "He does! And he just wants to protect you."

"Thanks." She smiled. "He's back tomorrow so I guess I should clean up." She said, Eddie took the hint and got up. He walked to the door but slowly turned to her. The sight of her bruised skin and clothes on the floor reminded him of what happened last night. A reminder that she'd always be someone else's.

"Y/N?" She looked up, a small smile on her face as she encouraged him to talk. She watched as he set down his cup, walked to her, and placed hers on the desk beside her.

"What are you doing?" She asked, but he didn't say a word. Just looking into her eyes as he pushed her back on the bed, she sat still. Praying if she didn't move a muscle, he wouldn't stop what he was going to do.

Her whole body fired up like electricity as he crawled on top of her and smashed his lips on hers. He hungrily tasted her and gripped her hips as he grinded against her. Eddie never felt this way for anyone, ever. It's been years of being lonely on the road, wishing for someone to be there with him through everything. If that was her, he wasn't going to let Steve stop him.

She was melting into her sheets. Everything she was dying to have was happening. The feeling of his lips attacking hers, his cock rubbing against her thigh. His smell filled her nose. Her hands traveled to his hair, yanking it as she shoved her tongue in his mouth. His hard body was against hers as his tongue moved inside her mouth.

He pulled away, breathing heavily as his forehead rested against hers. She stared at him in awe as she breathed against him.

"Sure this is what you want?" He whispered, his eyes soaking in her face. His right hand cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking her skin softly. She was beautiful.

"Yes." She said instantly, her hands moving under his shirt, feeling his forbidden skin under her nails.

He pulled back and removed his shirt, she followed his movement and yanked off hers. Leaving her in her underwear as she watched him remove the rest of his clothes.

She felt her insides burn and cunt twitch as she looked at his hard cock. She could feel her mouth-watering, his hands yanking off her underwear and shoving her thighs apart. She watched as he got on his knees, dragging her closer to his mouth. She was panting before his lips even touched her. He spit on her clit and rubbed his spit around. She was clawing at her sheets, he didn't waste a second before his tongue was moving against her. He ate her out like he'd been starving for months. She was a panting mess underneath him, her teasing act out the window as she felt her body disappearing.

"Jesus Eddie." She moaned she's never felt such pleasure before and he's been eating her out for a solid two minutes at most.

Hearing his name fall from her lips had his cock twitching. He almost felt like he could cum from eating her out. She tasted amazing. He didn't give a fuck about letting guys her age have her. They wouldn't know how to please her. He knew he could make her cum better than anyone. He was lost in how wet she was, wanting to suck her dry.

"Gonna!" She squirmed, her thighs clamping around his head as she came. Eddie didn't pull away, continuing his attack on her cunt as she tried to pull him off. But the longer he went, the weaker she became. Lying dead against the bed as she twitched and squirmed from his tongue. Almost like she's done when he decides.

After what felt like hours, he pulled away. His chin soaked as he smiled up at her. She couldn't tell if she was smiling back at him or not, she couldn't feel a thing.

She felt him moving her body further up the bed, her head against the pillows as he was on top of her again. His forehead was against hers as he slowly pushed himself inside of her. She felt her eyes rolling in the back of her head as her cunt stretched to take him in. He kissed her nose softly as he pushed himself in. Giving her a second to adjust. She breathed through her nose as she gripped his bicep.

"Look at you, taking me so well." He praised, kissing her lips. He waited a few more seconds before he started moving in and out of her. Clenching his jaw as he felt her cunt sucking him back in.

"Faster, please." She whined. He smashed his lips against hers again as he thrust inside of her. He was going fast and hard, but she loved it. She clawed at his back, moaning as he hit every spot inside of her effortlessly. He filled her perfectly, it made his head spin.

He pulled away to move his attention to her neck. Jealousy in his bones when he spotted the marks. She gasped as he lifted her leg and put it over his shoulder. Somehow pounding into her harder. She couldn't speak, or form any thoughts. He was fucking her straight dead in the head. He latched his mouth right on top of the hickey, forming his own on top of it. He knew it was sore by the hissing that left her lips. But he didn't care. He would cover every mark she had with his own.

She felt a small smirk forming on her face, realizing he was putting his mark over the ones from before. She found his jealousy incredibly attractive. And she loved that it made him fuck her harder.

His mouth stayed on her neck, as his hand moved down to her clit. Rubbing her clit fast as he felt himself growing close. Her mouth dropped open as she felt herself clenching around him. His fingers on her clit was practically dragging the orgasm out of her.

She couldn't even form the words, just digging her nails into his skin as she soaked his cock in her cum. Panting against him her thighs shook.

Eddie immediately came right after, feeling her cum soak him completely, and sent him over. He trusted slowly inside of her as he came. Emptying himself inside of her, he pecked her lips as he slid out.

"Oh fuck." He moaned, leaning back on his legs as he watched his cum leak out of her. He pushed it back inside with his fingers, loving the way she shook and tried to swat his hand away. He leaned into her, "Shh, pretty girls deserve to keep all my cum." She nodded as she allowed him to finger the cum back inside of her. She felt used and abused and loved it.

The sun was bright through her curtains, framing Eddie in a perfect way that she couldn't take her eyes off.

"You're so pretty." She sighed, her hands tracing his face. He laughed as he grabbed her hands from his face and kissed her knuckles.

"You're pretty too." He said.

He rested next to her, bringing her in his arms. Her back to his chest as she closed her eyes.

"I fell for you too." He whispered.

~~~

"Eddie! He's coming home any minute!" She laughed, trying to remove Eddie's arms from her. But he was stronger than she was. His arms wrapped around her waist as he kissed her neck.

"Fine fine!" He pouted, allowing her to put space between them as she finished making dinner. Eddie moved to the table and sat down. Watching her make their plates for dinner. Her marks were covered in makeup, not wanting to give her dad a heart attack, but Eddie missed seeing them.

"I'm home!" Steve entered, a smile on his face as Y/N hugged him.

"Perfect timing! I just finished dinner for us!" She said, placing the plates down on the table.

"I'll bring these to your room, you sit and eat." Y/N offered. Steve looked at her weirdly but accepted the offer.

He sat down at the table and dug into his plate. Eddie got up to grab a beer, stretching to get it off the top shelf.

Steve's eyes landed on Eddie's back, the bottom of his shirt rising, and red scratches were all down his back.

"I hope you didn't fuck someone with my daughter in the house." Steve scolded, his eyes hard as Eddie froze.

"Excuse me?" Eddie chuckled, turning around to see a displeased Steve.

"Your back? It's covered in marks. I'm fine with you having people over, but please don't have sex with my daughter across the hall." Steve said.

"Right....don't have sex with your daughter...when she's across the hall," Eddie repeated.

What Steve didn't know couldn't kill him, right?

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @inesven

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson smut x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x harrington!reader #older eddie munson x reader #ashwhowrites

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soulofapatrick · 2 months

Text

Broken Showers Aren't All Bad - Alec Lightwood x female reader

Summary: You use Alec's shower as yours is broken

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: none

Y/N’s POV

As I stumble back to the institute, my muscles aching and my clothes stained with sweat and demon ichor, I can’t help but feel a sense of exhaustion weighing heavily on my shoulders. The fight against the shax demons had been relentless, each blow and dodge taking its toll on my body and spirit.

Dragging myself to my room, I’m grateful for the ensuite bathroom, the promise of a hot shower offering a small sliver of comfort amidst the chaos and danger that constantly surrounds us. But as I step into the shower and turn on the water, my relief quickly turns to frustration as the pipes splutter and the flow of water comes to an abrupt halt, leaving me standing there in disbelief.

With a groan of frustration, I pound my fist against the tiled wall, feeling a surge of pent-up anger and exhaustion bubbling to the surface. It's the last straw in a long line of setbacks and challenges, and I can't help but feel like I'm at the end of my rope. They said they had fixed my shower earlier today but it’s still fucked.

Desperate for a solution, I run through a mental checklist of every member of our group, trying to determine who might be willing to let me use their shower. Clary and Jace are out of the question—they're probably lost in each other's embrace, lost in their own world of love and passion. And Izzy, well, she doesn't know the meaning of privacy, likely to barge in without warning at any given moment.

That leaves Alec—the one person in our group who values his privacy above all else. It's a long shot, but I'm left with no other choice, especially as he’s out on a mission currently.

As I tiptoe through the dimly lit corridors of the Institute, my heart races with anticipation and a tinge of nervousness. I know I shouldn't be doing this, sneaking into Alec's room while he's away on a mission, but my own shower has been malfunctioning for days, and I can't stand the thought of going another day feeling unkempt.

The door to Alec's room creaks softly as I push it open, praying that no one hears. Stepping inside, I quickly make my way to the bathroom, feeling a rush of relief wash over me as I shut the door behind me. The warm steam soon envelops me as I strip off my clothes and throw my towel aside, longing for the hot water.

As I step into Alec's shower, the warmth envelops me like a comforting embrace, easing the tension that had been coiled tightly in my muscles. The steam fills the small space, wrapping around me like a gentle cloud, washing away the lingering remnants of fear and adrenaline from the encounter with the shax demons.

I close my eyes, letting the water cascade over me, each droplet a soothing caress against my skin. The scent of Alec's shampoo and soap fills the air, a familiar and comforting aroma that helps to ground me in the present moment.

With each passing second, the tension begins to melt away, replaced by a sense of relaxation and relief. The hot water works its magic, easing the ache in my limbs and soothing the bruises that litter my body from the fight.

I tilt my head back, letting the water cascade over my face, feeling the weight of the day's events slowly lift from my shoulders. In this moment, there is nothing but the sensation of warmth and cleanliness, a temporary reprieve from the chaos and danger that constantly surrounds us.

As I stand under the warm cascade of water in Alec's shower, a sense of tranquility washes over me, momentarily banishing the worries and fears that had plagued me earlier. But as the sound of footsteps approaches the door, my heart lurches in my chest, and panic sets in like a suffocating wave.

Alec’s footsteps are unmistakable—steady and purposeful, devoid of the usual warmth or joviality. My mind races with the worst-case scenarios, imagining his stern expression and sharp reprimands as he discovered me here, intruding upon his private space and using his stuff.

With trembling hands, I reach for the shower curtain, hastily pulling it closed around me as if it could shield me from the impending confrontation. My breath comes in shallow gasps, the steamy air feeling suddenly stifling as I await Alec's inevitable discovery.

The moment the bathroom door creaks open, my heart feels as though it’s lodged in my throat, and I shrink back against the tiled wall, desperately trying to make myself as small as possible on instinct. Through the opaque curtain, I can vaguely make out Alec’s silhouette, his presence looming like an impending storm.

“Who’s there?” His voice pierces through the heavy silence, sharp and authoritative, sending a shiver down my spine.

I swallow hard, my throat feeling dry and constricted. "It's me," I manage to choke out, my voice barely above a whisper, my words muffled by the fabric of the curtain.

Alec’s footsteps draw nearer, and I can feel the weight of his gaze boring into me, even through the barrier of the shower curtain. Every nerve in my body is on high alert, bracing for the inevitable backlash of his discovery.

“What are you doing here?" His voice carries a note of incredulity, mixed with a hint of confusion.

I bite my lip, my mind scrambling for an explanation, any excuse that could possibly justify my presence here. "My shower... it's broken," I stammer out, my words coming out in a rushed tumble, my cheeks burning with embarrassment.

There’s a moment of tense silence, broken only by the sound of water cascading from the showerhead. I brace myself for Alec's anger, fully expecting a sharp rebuke for my audacity.

But, to my surprise, when Alec finally speaks, his voice carries a note of understanding, his tone softer than I had anticipated. "Well, I suppose you can finish up here," he says, his words tinged with a hint of amusement.

Relief floods through me like a tidal wave, and I let out a shaky breath, feeling the tension in my muscles slowly begin to ebb away.

As I finish my shower, hastily drying off with a fluffy towel, a sinking feeling settles in the pit of my stomach as I realise my oversight—I forgot to bring clean clothes with me. With a frustrated sigh, I wrap the towel tightly around my body, hoping it provides at least some semblance of modesty as I prepare to face the inevitable embarrassment of leaving Alec's bathroom in just my towel.

Steeling myself for the inevitable, I take a deep breath and push open the bathroom door, my cheeks burning with embarrassment as I step into the room beyond. My eyes dart nervously around the familiar surroundings, searching for any sign of Alec's presence.

And then, I see him—standing by the window, his back turned to me, his gaze focused intently on something outside. Relief floods through me at the sight, grateful for the temporary reprieve from the awkwardness of the situation.

But as if sensing my presence, Alec turns, his eyes widening in surprise as they travel the length of my body, lingering for a moment longer than is strictly necessary. A flush of crimson creeps into his cheeks, and he quickly averts his gaze, clearing his throat in a feeble attempt to disguise his embarrassment. "Uh, sorry," he mumbles, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes fixed resolutely on the floor. "I didn't realise you were... uh... here.”

I swallow hard, feeling the heat rise to my own cheeks as I struggle to find the right words to break the awkward silence that hangs between us. "I, uh... forgot to bring clean clothes," I mumble sheepishly, feeling like a fool for my forgetfulness.

Alec nods awkwardly, his cheeks still tinged with a faint blush. "Right," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Well, um... I can, uh, go get you something to wear... if you want.”

Instead of leaving the room to head to mine he moves to his chest of drawers, searching for something for me to wear. I feel a mix of gratitude and nervous anticipation, never expecting Alec to share his clothes with me let alone his shower. When he returns with a black t-shirt in hand, I accept it with a grateful smile, clutching it tightly against my chest as I wait for him to realise that he needs to turn away.

For a moment, Alec seems to falter, his gaze lingering on me expectantly until the realisation dawns on him. With a slight cough, he quickly averts his eyes, turning away to give me the privacy I need to pull the shirt over my head. As I slide the shirt on, I'm struck by how it drapes loosely over my frame, reaching down to mid-thigh and resembling more of a short dress than a typical t-shirt. The fabric is soft against my skin, imbued with Alec's scent, a comforting reminder of his presence.

When Alec finally turns back around, his eyes widen in surprise at the sight of me in his shirt, his gaze lingering on the way it hugs my curves and falls to the length of my thighs. A faint blush creeps into his cheeks once again, but this time, there's a hint of something else in his expression—a mixture of admiration and something deeper, more intimate.

"You, uh, look good in that," he stammers out, his voice slightly hoarse, his eyes flickering uncertainly as they meet mine.

I can't help but smile at his awkward attempt at a compliment, feeling a warmth spread through me at the genuine sincerity in his words. "Thanks," I reply softly, feeling a flutter of excitement in the pit of my stomach at the realisation that Alec's gaze lingers on me a moment longer than necessary, his eyes filled with a warmth that sends a shiver down my spine.

As I stand there in Alec's room, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air, I can't shake the feeling of reluctance that settles in the pit of my stomach. Despite the lingering warmth of Alec's gaze and the newfound connection between us, I know that I can't stay here forever.

With a soft sigh, I muster up the courage to break the silence, clearing my throat awkwardly as I glance towards the door. "I should probably get back to my room," I say softly, the words feeling heavy on my tongue.

Alec nods in understanding, his expression unreadable as he steps aside to let me pass. "Yeah, of course," he replies, his voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

As I make my way towards the door, a pang of regret washes over me, aching in my chest like a physical weight. Part of me had hoped that Alec would stop me from leaving, that he would reach out and pull me back into his embrace, unwilling to let me go.

But as I glance back over my shoulder, Alec's expression remains stoic and unreadable, his gaze fixed resolutely on the floor. With a heavy heart, I push open the door and step out into the hallway, the sound of it closing behind me echoing in the silence.

As I return to my room, the echoes of Alec's presence still lingering in my mind, I quickly slip on a pair of panties before reaching for the black t-shirt he lent me. With a momentary pang of guilt, I peel off the shirt, feeling a sense of loss as I momentarily remove the comforting fabric from my skin.

But the need for cleanliness overrides my reluctance, and I hastily pull on a clean bra before slipping Alec's shirt back over my head, the familiar fabric enveloping me once again in its warmth. Bringing the collar to my nose, I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of Alec that lingers there, a mixture of soap and sweat and something uniquely him.

Lost in the comforting embrace of Alec's shirt, I'm startled by a sudden knock at my door, the sound jolting me back to reality. Swinging the door open, expecting to see Izzy, my breath catches in my throat as it’s Alec standing there instead. His expression is wrought with anxiety and before I can even utter a word of inquiry, he closes the gap between us in two swift strides, his hands reaching out to cup my face in a surprisingly gentle yet urgent grip.

The world seems to tilt on its axis as Alec's lips crash against mine, stealing the breath from my lungs and sending my heart into a frenzied rhythm. His kiss is passionate and breathless, a whirlwind of emotions and desires unleashed in a single moment of raw vulnerability.

I'm momentarily stunned, my mind struggling to catch up with the sudden turn of events. But as Alec's lips move fervently against mine, a surge of warmth floods through me, melting away any doubts or reservations I may have had.

Wrapping my arms around his neck, I pull him closer, losing myself in the intoxicating sensation of his touch. His hands are rough and calloused against my skin, a stark contrast to the softness of his lips as they trail a fiery path along my jawline and down my neck.

In that moment, there is nothing else but Alec and me, lost in the dizzying whirlwind of passion and longing. The world outside fades away, replaced by the electric intensity of our connection as we become entangled in each other's embrace.

And as Alec finally pulls away, his chest heaving with exertion, I'm left breathless and exhilarated, a million thoughts and emotions swirling through my mind. “Do it again,” I s all I can breathe, Alec’s response immediate and impassioned. With a hunger that matches my own, he presses me against the nearest wall, his lips claiming mine with a fervour that leaves me dizzy with desire. In that moment, it feels as though we're the only two people in the world, lost in the intensity of our connection.

His hand finds its way to my bare thigh beneath his shirt, hitching my leg around his waist, pulling me impossibly closer as if he can't bear to be apart from me even for a moment longer. The sensation of his touch sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through me, igniting a fire that threatens to consume us both. Every caress, every kiss feels like an affirmation of the bond between us, a silent promise of things to come.

But our stolen moment of passion is abruptly interrupted by the unmistakable sound of someone clearing their throat. Reluctantly, we break apart, our breaths coming in ragged gasps as we turn to find Izzy standing in the doorway of my room, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of her lips.

"Welllllll" she says, her voice laced with amusement. “Sorry to interrupt this but I need to steal Y/N,” she adds with a wink, "you two can continue this later. Preferably with the bedroom door closed this time.”

I feel my cheeks flush with embarrassment at being caught in such a compromising position, burying my face in Alec’s shirt who's gaze remains unwavering as he meets Izzy's teasing grin with a smirk of his own.

“Later Izzy," he replies smoothly, his tone laced with amusement. “10 more minutes.”

With that Izzy snorts and closes the door on her way out, a fond smile on her face and Alec pulling me into his arms, a hug that has me nuzzling into the crook of his neck not sure what this is between us.

“I never thought I’d be happy about a broken shower.”

“Me neither.”

The Shadowhunters Masterlist TAG LIST - updated 21st Dec 2023

#Alec Lightwood #Alec Lightwood fluff #Alec Lightwood smut #Alec Lightwood angst #tmi #the mortal instruments one shots #the mortal instruments #Alec Lightwood x reader #Alec Lightwood x you #Alec Lightwood x y/n #Matthew daddario #shadowhunters

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whorediaries-09 · 26 days

Text

now i'm your daisy;

pairing- priest!remus lupin x reader warning(s)- 18+ content, dark themes. (let me know i should add more) [this is a dark fic. your media consumption is your choice and i'm not responsible for it. please do not continue under cut if you're uncomfortable.] a/n- here ya go honey @fictional-magic. i won't gatekeep ✍️.

ps- not using my regular taglist since this is a topic many people can be uncomfortable with.

little train

don't blame me (part one aka context)

' something happened for the first time, in the darkest little paradise shakin, pacin', i just need you. '

in the sweet innocence of the gentle sin, he worships you like a deity. like fresh poison, he consumes you, his lips travelling to every part of your body. he tells you his sins when he slips his tongue into your mouth, tasting you. he feels like a dog at the shrine of your light.

'you taste so delicious,' he whispers, as you nod. his hand unzips your dress, taking off the white fabric from your body. the cold air greets you, hardening your nipples into little nubs. he circles his fingers around him, his lips now on your neck.

'i've never had sex in a church before,' he says, sinking his canine into your neck. he sucks on the slightly sore spot and your hand travels into his locks.

'there's a...first time for everything i suppose,' you tease, arching your back. he laughs,

'i'm sure he won't mind. here let me help you with that,' you shimmy out of your cotton underwear.

'you'll have to say more than just your the rosary,' you say as he falls on his knees, his fingers sliding along the folds of your cunt. you arch your hips onto his fingers, the cruel hot madness of lust and greed ruining the plethora of your innocence. he slides his tongue between thighs, and you shake, your fingernails gripping onto his shoulder.

'yes, i'll have to say more than just the rosary. you're very funny,' he laughs, his tongue lapping onto your clit. you shake, and he catches you by your leg. he puts his thigh on your shoulder, his mouth still sucking on your sweet bundle of nerves. you arch your back, and he cranes his neck to see you ruining apart by his constant flicking and teasing.

'god forgive me,' you say, as he inserts two of his fingers into you. your fingers catch onto his hair, and you push him deeper between your legs. he licks up on your cunt, ravaging you like a starved man.

'we-shouldn't be doing this, but i want you so bad,' you scream, your voice echoing through the walls of the church. he pumps into you faster, finding your sweet spot with a curl of his long fingers.

'please, mr. lupin, right there-' you push his head deeper, as deep as you can, his stubble rubbing against the skin, wounding you with the mark of your sins. it breaks you apart into the havoc, when you feel your orgasm snap out of your body, your release pouring out of your body, coating his tongue.

he stands on his feet, his arm circling around your waist as he kisses you again, his mouth brandishing into yours. he lets the taste of you and his saliva down your throat and taste buds. it makes you shiver.

'i don't want to fuck you on the pier, it's not very comfy,' he says. his eyes wander about, and he continues, 'up on the altar,' your eyes widen.

'what? are you serious?' he nods,

'yes i'm serious, now up the altar,'

you walk towards the altar, your legs still shaky with the blissful euphoria. his hands grab you by your hips and he helps you up on it.

'perfect height,' he breathes, spreading your slick legs, 'lie back, sweetheart,' his eyes wander about your figure, legs wide apart, flushed cheeks, tears and mascara rolling down your face, and messy hair.

'just a like fucking angel,' he says, 'lay down for me sweetheart,' the stature of jesus hangs above you, the remnant of the sunshine filtering through the windows. as he slides down his shaft within your folds, teasing your slit with the tip of his cock his eyes wander over to the crucified jesus on the cross,

'perhaps, you'll forgive me,' he says. then he lowers down his eyes to your form, spread down beneath him. his hand wanders to your waist. 'perhaps, he's a bit jealous too,' he smiles. he digs his fingernails deep into your waist, pulling you closer and the other teases your entrance slowly with the tip of his cock.

'i'm gonna slide right in there okay? just tell me if you're uncomfortable,' he gasps, pushing himself inside of you. you arch your back, sinful moans leaving your mouth, his shaft filling you up to the brink. he braces himself by holding onto the edge of the altar, his knuckles turning white with the pressure.

'god, you're so wet f'me,' he praises, his finger now tucking a sweaty strand of hair behind your ear.

'jus' for you mr. lupin,' you mumble, quietly gasping as he pulls himself out just to push himself back into you again. his finger circles on your stimulated clit and breathes,

'sweetheart, the sounds you make. someone could hear them and walk right in, but don't you fucking stop.' he chuckles darkly, 'i want them to walk in, let the fucking world know how good you feel,'

'please,' you whimper, motioning him to continue. he nods, catching you by your hips and slowly rutting into you, pining you to the cold wood of the altar.

'god, why haven't we done this before? i have wanted to, believe me so many times,'

'me too, mr. lupin.' the pressure of his hands increase on your waist as he pulls you closer, pushing himself deeper, so deep you feel him in your cervix,

'really? i'm glad to know the feeling is mutual,' he bends down, his teeth nibbling and mouth sucking on the bites he leaves behind,

'that sunday you sat with me for hours discussing the gospels, i wanted to fuck you so bad, take you on the floor, marking you as mine. i wanted to push your head down on my cock the whole time i watched your mouth move,' he says, chuckling darkly as you clench around his cock. his finger linger on your lips, 'those lips, warm, welcoming and glistening with your spit,'

'you like the sound of that? i feel you clenching around my cock,' you nod, and he smiles, his tongue swiping for his lower lip.

'such a perfect warm and wet cunt,' he praises, 'i so quick witted, always has something to say.' he rubs your clit, and your walls convulse around him. your chest heaves as the hotness fills you up. you flutter your eyelashes as you feel his thrusts grow sloppy. wrapping your hands around his neck, you pull him closer, ravaging your mouth on his.

'fuck, fuck, i'm going to cum,' he says. he presses his hand down on your hip, 'please tell me i can cum inside you, fill you up,' you nod, your head in the euphoria of the shrine of your sins, as your cunt convulses around him and you release your orgasm around him for the second time that evening.

'please cum inside me, remus,' when you speak his name, his control topples over the edge of his insanity and he releases himself you, chanting your name. his cum drips out your abused hole when he pulls out his softened cock, painting your thighs and falling on the altar he fucked you over. your chest heaves with satisfactory exhaustion.

his eyes burn through you, and the lores of lust break down. he realizes he should've worshipped you sooner. he should've been your daisy sooner. you were his darkest little paradise, and he wanted nothing more than you. he'd fall from grace, to be succumbed by the madness of your serene lust. the only heaven he could be send to was when he alone with you, even when you offered him a deathless death.

#harry potter fanfiction #harry potter #marauders #the marauders #marauders era #remus lupin #remus lupin x you #remus lupin smut #remus lupin imagine #remus lupin fluff #remus lupin x reader #kinkotober #remus lupin fanart #werewolf

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heartsforsserafim · 8 months

Note

Can I request sugar mommy Kazuha?

Like Candy

pairing ; sugar mommy!kazuha x fem!reader

genre ; smut/fluff

tw ; spoiling, public sex (kind of), g!p kazuha, jealousy, not proofread

You were walking around the mall with Kazuha, and some guys started hitting on you. Entertaining them of course, making Kazuha jealous a bit.

She pulled you away from them, taking you into a bathroom stall. "Now of course i shouldn't have this conversation with you. But L/n Y/n i swear if you flirt with another person me and you are over." She says looking into your eyes.

Now of course, you'd think something along the lines of well it's every once in a while but no. Every single person you two come across flirts with you because you're so pretty and although Zuha is just your sugar mommy, she still hates it.

You stared into her eyes, "Okay i'm sorry i won't do it again" she nodded and still placed the vibrator inside of you. You knew where this was going so you prayed no one would try to talk to you anymore.

(...)

Soon after the mall trip, kazuha had her guards carry your bags to the car. The vibrator being on the highest setting you couldn't walk correctly, and she wasn't letting you cum so you're stuck here.

She drove home not saying a word to you, making them take your bags inside. She carried you bridal style into the house, making it to her bedroom.

"Now we can do this either easy or hard, it's your choice." She said and removed her own clothes. You looked at her, she looked so attractive mad. You came right there, moaning so loud while you shook violently. "Aw did i say you can cum?" you shook your head, "Now", she says and pulls the vibrator out. She went down to your cunt before looking at you, " is this okay?" "mhm mhm please" she smirked and licked your cunt up to your clit. "Ah fuck! Mmhp zuha please make me cum"

With that Kazuha began eating you out like crazy, using her tongue in ways you never felt her use before, your hair was a mess. Sweat beads on your forehead, you were moaning this girl's name out. Surely her neighbors heard you, "Fuck y/n the way you say my name is so hot." she said and continued eating you out, using her fingers as clit stimulation.

"O-oh god! mmm! z-zuha i'm- ah!" you say and cum in her mouth. She lapped it all up, and stood straight. Your juices all over the girl's face, "You taste amazing" she said, and began taking off her boxers, "Can i?" she looks at you once more, "Use me master~" you say and her cock twitched.

She walked over to your cunt, and grabbed her dick, playing along your slit with it. "P-please put it in" you begged her, she smirked and went in. You both sigh in relief. Waiting a few minutes before pulling out and slamming right back into you. "Oh god you're so warm" she says and began thrusting in and out of you.

Normally she'd be able to control how fast she was going, but tonight she wanted to just destroy you. Pulling out and placing you on top of her, she inserted her cock once more. Thrusting insanely fast, you tried matching her pace. The sound on skin slapping, and moans could be heard throughout that house.

Kazuha felt herself getting closer, and began rubbing your clit so you can tighten around her. "A-ah im cumming! please please let me cum i won't do anything else bad just fuck! please zuha" you begged out, she nodded and began going faster. Laying you on your back and taking complete control over your body while chasing her own orgasm. You both came at the same time, her hips slowing down helping to ride out the pleasure you both felt.

(...)

Picking you up, she took you to the bathroom and washed you. "Is the water warm enough?" she asked, "mhm" you said and she began applying soap to your body. "Do you want bubble gum, strawberry or vanilla?" "hm, strawberry" "alright" Kazuha applied the shampoo into your hair, and let it sit for a bit whilst she held your hand. You both made eye contact before laughing, she kissed you before grabbing your towel and having you get in. "I have your clothes laid on the bed, just stay in bed for a bit" She said and left the bathroom. You smiled and went to the room, falling asleep soon after realizing she turned on your favorite childhood cartoon.

Kazuha had your favorite songs playing throughout the house, and she was cooking you something to eat. "Hey" you said, "oh hey, you're up already" "Yea, so what's all this about" you motioned pointing at the table, "Oh nothing!" She said and smiled a bit, "You're so beautiful y/n" she said, making you a bit shy. "T-thank you zuha" She was about to speak but the doorbell rang, she hurried over to it, "Thank you!" she said and closed the door. "What was that about?" you asked, "Uhmm i ordered you something you can't see it yet though!"

You laughed before walking out, "alright!" Kazuha hurried and sat everything up. She bought you a puppy and she didn't want you to know until dinner.

A while passed and she called you down, "Okay can i see it?" you asked after dinner. "Mhm! I'll go get her" her? you thought "Meet pumpkin !" Kazuha said with such a childish smile plastered on her face. "Awww oh my god!!" You squealed and grabbed the puppy, "Thank you so much baby!" you kissed her, she smiled and kissed you back.

She knew she picked a good present for you, already ordering everything else you wanted along with necessities for the puppy. Of course, Kazuha can make this money right back, she was under the hybe entertainment of course. This is nothing to her

#kpop #girl group smut #kpop smut #nakamura kazuha #kazuha fluff #le sserafim fluff

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mysticalsoot · 8 months

Text

tomorrow you can fly

A/N; thanks to @poraphia 's post earlier tonight w photos of will in eyeshadow- we now have this fic I wrote in an hour- soooo- go check out their blog and maybe like take a read here- FYI this is so incredibly self indulgent, reader is just me. this is what its like with my dr s/o. he calls me bunny, I love it. let me be happy.

summary; reader does wil's makeup and helps him get ready for a show!! a bit of anxiety ensues but nothing a bit of soft wilbur can't help!!

tw// anxiety, seperation anxiety, wil is shirtless briefly, barely suggestive but slightly, will gets his makeup done?? very autistic coded reader and kinda will too!! reader is called bunny and bug, very cutesty petnames, fukin sue me

words; 3k

pairings; cc!wilbur x gn!reader

pronouns; none!

masterlist

—★—

"wilbee?" you call softly for your boyfriend, humming and swaying around the flat as you try to find where he's getting ready for his gig-- or rather where he's hiding.

"mm, yes baby?" he calls after you, and you peak into your bedroom, hurrying to stand behind him and wrap yourself around his body as he looks through his side of the closet. you place a kiss on his back, your fingers running over his stomach.

"whatcha doin, lovey?" you hum, resting your cheek against his back as he stops, looks down and chuckles. he turns in your grasp, smiling down at you and holding your face in his hands. you note how small your face feels compared to his grasp, it's nice.

"im trying to get ready, bunny."

a soft smile on his lips as he leans down, practically bent over to place a kiss on your lips before another lingering kiss is placed on your forehead. you grasp at his sides, hands grabbing hold of the fabric of his shirt as you stand tall on your toes to reach him better.

"can I help?" you tilt your head to the side, knowing the answer is yes.

"of course, lovebug," he smiles and turns back to pick out a few tops, you grab onto his free hand, wrapping yours around his finger as he walks over to the bed and places the shirts down, "which one, hun?" he looks over at you as you inspect each one, thinking deeply and searching your brain for each memory of him wearing the choices laid in front of you.

the one on the left is his favorite doomed sweater, everyone knows it. but it's August, and much too hot for a sweater, let alone when he'll be all sweaty. you hand it to him and shake your head.

"aww, but it's my favorite?" he whines playfully, a gentle smirk on his lips as he tosses it aside in the reading nook you both put together. he'll deal with it later.

"I'd rather you not get heatstroke," you hum as you glance between the two other options. one is a white button up, the other being a tighter fitting white tshirt. you point to the Tshirt and nod up at him, "that one, can I get you a jacket, baby?"

he nods, smiling as he takes the options you dismissed and puts them away. you follow him to the closet, almost like a lost puppy, which isn't uncommon for either of you. you're attached at the hip, even at home.

you look through his jackets for a moment or two, while he's deciding on jeans and shoes. he'll get you to pick socks out for him, you like to mismatch them and make sure they're nice and colorful for him. you glance between a green jacket and a black one, both of which are decently light and shouldn't make him sweat much more than he would on his own. you him as you try to grab the green one, pulling it off the hanger and bringing it to him, where he stands in front of the dresser.

"this one," you hum and put it on top of the dresser, the shirt and jeans picked out.

"socks, darling?"

you nod and quickly pick a pair of Minecraft socks.

"love--"

"stick to your roots, wilb."

you smile and look up at him as he shakes his head and kisses your cheek, holding you against him for a few moments before he breathes in and sighs.

"can I do your makeup?" you look up at him, chin rested on his chest as his hands find your hips and rub the bone with his thumbs.

"how do you plan on doing it?" he leans down, a few soft kisses being placed and drug along your neck. gentle, loving motions not meant for anything but to say 'i love you, I'll miss you'.

"eyeshadow, your waterline eyeliner aaaaannd maybe some highlight?" the list is light and would look decently natural, besides the eye makeup, but getting to make him all pretty before a show sounds beautiful. getting to sit on his lap and practically draw on his face with powders and eye pencils, his hands on your hips--it sounds like heaven to you.

"I think we can agree on that," a kiss to your cheek and a quick little peck to the lips and he's across the room and in the bathroom. the water starts and you take that as a cue to move, going over to your vanity and setting out what you'll need.

you decide to take out some of your lipstick too, just a small idea you feel like springing on him. you sit there for a few moments before you quickly jump into bed and look out the window for a bit. just watching the tide go in and out, he's a quick shower guy so doing anything that could take more than five minutes, wasn't the best deal. so looking out the window, from a distance might I add, was a good deal. you don't like being too close to the large windows by yourself, you prefer when wil is there behind you. then, if you fall through the big glass windows, he'll fall with you. morbid, but sweet in a way. or that's what your sister Grace, says. either way, you don't mind.

it isn't long until Wil is out of the shower and bathroom, a towel wrapped around his torso and another towel drying his hair.

you look at him for a moment, trying not to gawk as you notice his stomach, the small bit of fat he has there. soft and squeezable and wonderful for laying on, the v-line just below that makes you blush. then your eyes dance to his waist, where it comes in a curve, a small dip that drives you crazy. you glance away when you see him smirking and he shakes his head at your silence and rosy cheeks.

you look back at him a moment later after a loving little scoff leaves his lips and your eyes widen when you see him about to shake his hair out.

"wil! no! you're not a dog, babe!" you squeal out as he shakes his hair out, right in front of you as water droplets shake off everywhere. you're squealing and giggling until he stops and he laughs, lunging over you and attacking your face in sweet kisses, his damp curls tickling your face.

"how's that, hm? better now? you've forgiven me?" he smirks as he pulls back, finger running down your jaw and resting under your chin. he pulls you in for a quick kiss and you pout up at him.

"I've told you no dog shakes. it's mean."

he simply chuckles and shakes his head, letting the towel drop and quickly changing into his clothes. his hair dries quickly, so he doesn't bother with the hair drier. plus, he knows you hate the noise, and with how quiet you've been today, he doesn't want to agitate your nerves any further.

after he's dressed, he sits down in the chair at the vanity before patting his leg, "c'mere, baby," he smiles and you oblige quickly, easily slipping into his lap facing him.

you hold his face in your hands for a few moments before a kiss to his forehead, and then you twist back to grab the concealer you keep for him, he's much too pale for anyone else's.

this isn't your first time either.

you smile as you scoot forwards, his hands landing onto your hips, holding tightly and covering more space on you than you thought was possible. you dab a few dots of concealer in a few places where he gets more blemishes, and then a couple quick swipes under his eyes. you recap the concealer and put it back on the vanity, grabbing the sponge and dabbing it around. he shuts his eyes and sighs softly, fully content in the domesticity of the moment. you've both been awfully quiet today, he's been so pent up and stressed about the night's gig that he hasn't had much to say, and you on the other hand, aren't always the most talkative. at least on your bad or mediocre days. on good days you'd be smiling and talking wil's ear off, which he loved. it reminded him you trusted him, and felt safe to freely speak your mind.

today was a more anxious day for you, so silence was resorted to most often. nothing happened in particular, you just sort of woke up uneasy, sick to your stomach and messages you had gotten from some of wil's acquaintances didn't make you feel better. as always, he'd hum and kiss your nose, rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs and muttering 'youre worthy, you're smart, you're beautiful. no one else's words dictate your self worth, mkay?' it's sweet, how much he loves you. how desperately he loves you and how far he is willing to go for that to be known. you've never felt so loved and appreciated as you have when you're in his lap, or his arms or simply in the same room as him.

when wilbur is there you are safe, loved and appreciated and those are things you haven't always felt, and for that, you're thankful to him.

after the concealer is blended, you move onto the eyeshadow, tapping the brush out after you dipped it in one of the green tones. you apply it to his eyelids as he tries not to giggle at the way it tickles, his lip being between his teeth to help keep it contained. his fingers tighten on your hip bones for a few minutes as you finish up with the other eyelid. then you add a bit of shimmer shadow to it, for some sparkle. you're quick with the eyeliner, dragging the pencil gently on his waterline, knowing it's his least favorite part.

as you add the highlight to his inner corners, nose and various other spots on his face, you hum with a smile, "I have an idea, could I tell you about it?"

he hums as a yes, smiling as he looks down at you, just slightly.

"what if I put some red lipstick on me and then kissed all over your face and neck and a bit on this white tshirt here?" your words are spoken slower than most times, partly because of the exhaustion of being anxious for a whole day and partly because it insinuates a bit of mischief to your words.

"yes, please, my love," he smirks, loving the idea of going on stage with kiss marks all over his face and neck. what a way to show who's he is, hm?

"wonderful," you're quick with finishing up the base, before you apply the lipstick marks. his cheeks and jaw are heavier in the kisses, and then some more are placed on his neck. you have to reapply the lipstick a few times and after youre done you pull back to look at your work, smiling in satisfaction at your job. Wil looks in the mirror, smirking before kissing your chin.

"it looks beautiful, baby. you did such a good job," he coos softly, a kiss to your cheek as you step off his lap and he stands. you press your hand to his chest as you shake your head.

"almost forgot, lip balm."

he nods and quickly dabs some on his lips, shaking his head and chuckling at how thorough you are.

you help pack his bags and carry them down to the van, and after his guitars and other things are up, he steps aside with you, holding your face and leaning down to meet your eyes.

"promise me you'll be okay? you won't be bored at all?" his eyebrows are all knitted together and you giggle at how worried he seems. you'll be fine after all.

"I'm gonna be fine, I promise. you need to have fun at your show, wilb," your smile is sweet and genuine, and you giggle at every kiss his lips leave on your face. his thumbs rubbing at your cheeks when he pulls back makes you smile even wider.

you didn't want to go to the show, but you didn't tell him that. you simply said you were much too tired and thought staying back and resting was a better option. in reality, his fans scared you a bit. and sometimes you felt judged. it was best to stay at home with your current state of mind anyways.

a few goodbye kisses and a long hug where he picks you up and spins you and then he's off and you're going up the stairs back to your flat.

you're putting away the makeup from earlier, and then head out to the kitchen to put together some leftovers for yourself, bouncing and swaying on your feet, a stim you enjoy most when you're alone. or with wil, but sometimes being with him is like being alone, in an oddly cathartic way. he makes you feel safe, like you can truly be yourself, in the same way you can when there's not a single prying eye. because his brown ones never pry.

you spend your time busying yourself, crocheting different projects you've had going, playing stardew and putting some of wils vods on the TV to help with background noise, and your separation anxiety.

sometime between then and now, you fell asleep on the couch, curled up in pillows and blankets, all nestled in and comfy.

long hours are spent asleep, until the very late hours of night, 2 or 3am and the door is creaking open, shutting and locking. you smile to yourself in your half sleepy daze. you try to pretend to be asleep, knowing that wil would cuddle you if you were awake or asleep, but hoping he'd carry you to bed with him too, if it was the latter.

"love?" he calls softly, dropping his things by the door and shoving his shoes off before hurrying over to you, kneeling down by the side of the couch and pushing hair out of your face. you look up at him through your lashes and he smiles, you broke.

"hi, bee," you hum, reaching out to him and hugging him close, "how was the show?" you speak against his neck, breath fanning over the skin and lifting goosebumps across it.

"very good, the crowd was wonderful. really wish you were there, they would've loved you," he sighs, nestling his face into your neck as he slowly crawls onto the couch with you, laying half on you and half off.

"you have good fans, I don't doubt it," you avoid the other comments, and Wil notes this for later as he rubs your hair and hums to you. you lift your head to look at his face, noticing how his makeup is gone and you frown. he notices and speaks up;

"took it off at the venue, means I can cuddle you immediately," he smiles and you giggle, nodding happily as you stuff your face into his chest and let him embrace you, "ready for bed, bug?"

you nod and he holds you close, before sitting you up. he stands and picks you up by your waist, wrapping you around him and carrying you off to bed. he lays you down, tucking in beside you and kissing your temple.

"were you feeling okay while I was gone?" he asks with a quick chirp. he nibbles at your ear, before a kiss is placed under it.

"yeah, i just crafted and napped," you tuck your head under his chin, hands grasping at his shirt and his covering the top of yours, "you've got big hands," the words are blurted out immediately, without thought. it makes you reel into yourself, hiding your face as it burns red when you realize what you've spoken aloud.

"yeah? well, all the better to hold you with, mm?" he chuckles, shaking his head with a smile and looking out the window for a few seconds. he notices your stillness and reaches down to pull your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze, "your comment didn't make me uncomfortable, I liked it. do you need to breathe with me?"

you shrug and he takes that as a yes.

he holds up his hand, outstretched, and takes a deep breath, putting a finger down for each second he breathes in. you follow his lead. he then does the same for holding, 4 in, 4 hold, 4 out. he does this with you a few more times before he notices your body more relaxed and less tense than before. he wraps his arms tighter around you, pulling you closer into his chest as he cradles the back of your head with his hand. his fingers scratch and massage at your scalp as you sigh in contentment.

"i didnt mean to say it," you shake your head, wrapping your arms around his waist.

"doesn't mean you didnt mean it,"

"i meant it," your response is quick and he smirks at how fast you respond, kissing the crown of your head before leaning back to look at your face.

he leans down, face in his hands as he kisses you ever so softly on the lips, love and care seeping into the touch and when you pull away, a slight tingle is left on the skin he touched. it's nice, like an echo of his love gets left behind with every graze of his fingers or lips or simply his touch. its addicting.

"sleep?" you whisper softly, a yawn seeping through your words.

he nods, and you curl up in his chest as you both shuffle and adjust in the bedsheets.

"goodnight, bunny," he smiles, eyes shut as he kisses your forehead.

"goodnight, bee," and with your words and his touch, slips away any worry that weighed on your chest, and now you feel light. maybe tomorrow you can fly, you hope its with him.

taglist; @ella-fella-bo-bella @lillylvjy @sleepyburs @lotusanonymouse @lcvejoy

as a gift, here are the photos<3

#bee<3 #wilbur soot #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur #wilbur soot x gn!reader #wilbur x reader #cc!wilbur soot x male reader #cc!wilbur soot x gn!reader #cc!wilbur #cc!wilbur x reader #cc!wilbur soot #wilbur soot fluff #wil looks so good in makeup fuckin hell

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marvelfilth · 1 month

Text

AKA Shut up and listen

Pairing: Jessica Jones x f!reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption, self-deprication

Summary: you love Jess, Jess doesn't get why

Masterlist

"So... This is it?" you mumble, your gaze pinned to the roach on the wall to your left.

You really shouldn't be disappointed - you heard enough of Jess' grumbling whenever she came back from a hideout with too many compromising pictures on her camera and too much alcohol on her breath.

So, yeah, it's all your fault, since it was you who begged her to take you with her, just to get a taste of that PI life.

"Yes." She opens the window, letting some fresh air flow into the tiny motel room.

"Cool," you sigh and search the room for a safe place to sit. Unfortunately, the entire place looks like a biohazard, so you have no choice, but to settle on the edge of the single bed.

Your hesitation doesn't escape Jess' watchful eye. "You realize you'll have to sleep here, right?" Jessica drawls. She's sitting on the windowsill, her flask clutched between her fingertips. She raises her eyebrows at your silence and you shake your head, feeling hot all of a sudden. Lately, it's been happening too often - her looking at you far longer than a friend should, and you flushing under her heavy gaze.

"You said it won't take long," you mumble, turning away to hide your burning cheeks with your hair.

"It won't. Twenty hours top." She shrugs, taking off her leather jacket to reveal her toned arms, your eyes zeroing in on the muscles hidden under her soft skin.

"Great," you sigh.

The roach on the wall moves closer to you and you have to fight the urge to stamp it down with your shoe.

It probably has a family somewhere.

"You don't have to stay. I can call Trish, she'll pick you up. She can take you somewhere fancy."

Your eyes roll at the obvious attempt at getting rid of you. You know she likes you enough to tolerate you for at least a day, but you also know she prefers to work alone. Even Trish never gets to tag along.

"You know I like you more."

“Really?” She husks sarcastically around the neck of her flask.

“Yes.”

Another roach crawls from under the bed, making you squeak and jump off it. Jessica rolls her eyes, gesturing around you. “This. This is me.”

You blink. Then blink again. “A roach?”

She hums, turning to look outside and taking another swing from her flask. “Yep. A roach, dirty motel, cheap booze - all me. Doesn't seem like your thing.”

You huff, crossing your arms, your shoulders suddenly tense. “Luckily for me, you're more than cheap booze, and shitty motels, and roaches. So yeah, you're my thing.”

She tilts her head, her dark eyes brimming with exhaustion from countless sleepless nights spent chasing leads, but there's a flicker of something, something important. It's gone faster than you can place it, and she turns back to the window, lifting her camera, and covering her face from your scrutiny.

“Get us some food, yeah?” She whispers, pretending to focus on the streets below.

You let out a frustrated huff, but nod nonetheless, leaving in search of something edible.

You come back a little over half an hour later, a paper bag full of takeout clutched tightly against your chest, your heart still racing after a ride with a sketchy man on a sketchy elevator.

Jessica startles you with a question.

“You okay?”

Her body is halfway out of the window, facing the building across the street, but her eyes are pinned to you. The flask lies empty on the windowsill.

“Peachy,” you mumble, pushing a container into her hand. “Eat it all or no booze for two days.”

She frowns, eyeing you warily. “Don't bullshit me.”

You smile, humming, and nudge Jess to make space for you on the windowsill. You dig into the food, almost moaning at the rich flavor, and note with pride that Jessica seems to enjoy it too.

“Not bad,” she says around a forkful. “Not as good as your famous lasagna-”

You shove her before she can finish her thought.

“Jess!”

Her brow arches in question, and she keeps a serious expression for all three seconds before the corners of her mouth jump up in a fleeting smile. “What? I liked it.”

You groan, pushing the food around. She'll never let you forget it. And to think that you were just being a caring friend, spending all day perfecting a recipe you found online, chasing down Jess, and making her eat some of it.

“Just a little less salt next time,” she says, leaning back against the wall, her eyes on you.

You shake your head, cheeks burning in embarrassment.

The evening is settling in, the warm glow of the sun seeping away, giving way to the chilly breeze. You shudder, goosebumps littering your bare arms, and consider moving to the bed, or maybe wrapping yourself in a blanket. You eye it warily - it's thin, its color washed away and even from here you can see some of the stains.

You jump up when a weight settles over your shoulders, a familiar scent of leather enveloping you. When you turn to look at Jess, instead of looking away like you thought she would, she looks at you, head-on.

“Thanks,” you whisper, pushing your arms through the sleeves. “You're not cold?”

She shakes her head no, pushing her food around. “Looks good on you.”

“Yeah?” You look down at your lap, fingers fidgeting. The air grows heavy.

She reaches inside her bag and takes out another flask.

“I'm no good for you, you know?” she says after gulping at least a quarter of it.

You look up, startled.

“I'm an asshole with a drinking problem. You deserve better.”

You close your eyes, taking a deep breath. “You’re not an asshole.”

She snorts, and finishes the flask in quick gulps before carelessly throwing it to the floor.

“Jess.”

She hums.

“You're not an asshole.”

“I heard you the first time.”

You huff, and pull the take out box out of her hands before gently setting both of your food on the nearby table. “Jessica,” you start, squaring your shoulders. “I need you to listen to me very carefully.” She rolls her eyes, but turns to face you nonetheless. You can tell she's ready to bolt or at least deflect, but you won't let her. Not this time, the conversation is long overdue.

You take her hand in yours, fiddling with her slender fingers. “You’re one of the best people I've ever met, Jess-” the scoff that follows is expected “-yes, you are!” You insist, giving her hand a sharp tug. “You're brave, and selfless, and kind-”

“I’m an unreliable, unstable alcoholic with a fucked up head,” she growls, jumping off her seat. “I'm not kind or brave. I don't do nice things. I'm not nice, period. I have a hole in my wall and more empty bottles than cutlery. I haven't washed my jeans in two months. I- fuck, sometimes I can't even look at you without thinking about you leaving, eventually.” She starts pacing, fingers lost in her dark tresses.

“Jess.”

“I can't take care of myself, Trish does that half the time. I have one bedsheet. I don't have a vacuum cleaner. My door is permanently broken.”

“Jessica.”

“I'm a fucked up-”

“Shut up.”

She stops mid rant, looking at you with tired eyes, and let's out a long-suffering sigh. “You deserve better.”

You shake your head and take a step towards her. “I love you.”

She recoils, suddenly looking like a frightened child. Her eyes shine with unshed tears. “What?” She croaks.

“I love you, Jess. I love you when you're drunk and miserable, and I love you when sober up and smile like you don't have a care in the world. I love you when you're out of reach for days on a case, and I love you when you make sure to spend time with me, even if it means sacrificing sleep-”

“Stop.”

“-I love you when you don't have time to take my calls, and I love you when you answer me from strangers’ balconies. I love you when you're being mean, and I love you when you choose to be the kindest person I know, even after all of the shit you've been through.”

“Y/n…”

“I love you and your broken door. And I love your cutlery.”

“Don't-”

“And I have a vacuum cleaner.”

She sighs, but her eyes soften just a slightest bit. "A vacuum cleaner, huh?"

You swallow and take a deep breath. “I- I don't want anyone else, Jess. I want you. I love you.”

She looks at you for a long moment, her jaw tenses, brows furrow in thought. “Okay,” she nods slowly, begrudgingly.

“Yeah?” You whisper, inching closer.

“Yeah,” she breathes against your lips, before pulling you in a tender, almost chaste kiss. She's pulling away a second later and it's over before you even fully register the feeling of her soft, full lips on yours. “I- You- Fuck, why is this shit so goddamn hard?” She grumbles, closing her eyes briefly before taking a deep breath. “You deserve better, so-”

“Jessica,” you growl, pushing her by the shoulders. She doesn't budge, pressing you closer to her chest, her grip on your waist tightening.

“You deserve better, so I'll get better. I'll do better. For you,” she finishes slowly, begrudgingly, and for a moment you're speechless. “Less booze should be a good start, right? No girl likes to smell alcohol all the time,” she sounds like she's complaining, like this is the worst situation she could ever find herself in, but her eyes shine in a way you've never seen before. It's hope, you realise after a moment.

“Not for me, for you,” you state firmly, cupping her jaw. “You'll get better for you.”

She blinks. “That’s not a good enough motivation,” she grumbles.

You press a kiss to the corner of her mouth, fighting back a smile. She's so Jess. “We'll work on that.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Okay. I... I love you too, I guess.”

"Mhm," you hum, and she opens her mouth again, so you pull her in a proper kiss before she can say anything else.

#jessica jones x reader #jessica jones x you #jessica jones x female reader #jessica jones #jessica Jones x y/n #jessica jones x fem!reader #AKA Shut up and listen

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henrioo · 6 months

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i’m physically ill, how do you think sanji would be with a s/o that’s sick— english isn’t my first language, i hope its okay i ask for a story or an ask like this! - 🏅

°•*⁀➷ SICK MORNINGS: SANJI

꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ : "When you don't wake up feeling well that morning, your boyfriend Sanji's only choice is to take care of you until you feel a little better, this leads to some cuddles and fun stories about his past."

꒰ WARNINGS ꒱ : GN! Reader,neutral pronouns, sick reader (not serious but unspecified), pillow talk, established relationship, Sanji speaking French, brief mention of Sanji's traumatic past (no description or spoilers), English is not my first language!

꒰ WC ꒱ : 2k

꒰ NOTES ꒱ : I know it took me literally months to deliver this and I have no morals with asking anymore, but I swear it won't happen again and it was just a situation where I was really bad. Thanks for the ask and I hope you enjoy it!

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The sun came through the circular windows of your room, you huffed irritably as you covered yourself with the sheets and turned to the other side trying to escape the light that took you out of your dream kingdom. A few minutes later footsteps were heard in the hallway and then the door was gently opened, that loving and quiet whistle invaded the room and you immediately knew that Sanji, your boyfriend, had entered.

"Good morning mon amour" he smiled and walked over to sit on the edge of your double bed. "You seemed tired from yesterday's fight so I let you sleep a little longer, but now it's almost lunch time and you haven’t gotten up yet… Aren’t you hungry?” He asked with that worried but gentle tone, showing that he wasn't angry.

"Where are the others?" You mumbled groggily and tiredly as you turned to face Sanji. The ship was quieter than ever and that was definitely important.

"They went out exploring right after breakfast, I decided to keep watch just to make sure you got something to eat when you woke up…" he smiled and walked over, climbing into bed and laying down so he was close to you.

Immediately his body crawled close to Sanji's body, like a magnet you stuck together whenever you were close. You relaxed against his chest as he continued singing and stroking your hair.

"Are you good?" He asked, getting worried about his silence, even if you weren't a morning person you weren't that reclusive.

"Just… tired… And feeling a little bad, I guess" you sighed as you wrapped your arms around his waist and hugged him tighter, scared of him leaving.

"Feeling bad? What's wrong?" Sanji hated seeing people sick, but seeing you sick he hated fifteen times more. He quickly placed a hand on your forehead, cheeks and below your neck, trying to find any obvious signs of your condition "you're hot, very very hot, that's not good" he knew the basics about illnesses, thanks to the classes Chopper gave to all.

"Uhum…" you agreed, your body felt warm although you felt a little cold "My stomach feels weird too…" you listed the symptom that bothered you the most.

"That's not good… I'm going to look for Chopper, he shouldn't have gone very far into the city" The blonde man spoke worriedly and tried to get up, but his arms remained firmly around his waist, preventing him from getting up completely "Angel?"

"Stay with me" you asked slyly as you whimpered "Please… I don't want to be alone"

Sanji immediately melted with your request, no matter how many weeks, months or years you two were in a serious relationship, every time you showed love, showed need and real desire to want him, want his presence, he fell a little more in love. Of course he would never deny you a request, so he just smiled and lightly stroked your sweaty hair.

"Sure honey… Just, let me get you some freshwater at least, then I'll come back and take care of you until the others get there, okay?" He tried to offer a deal, he knew how stubborn you could be sometimes, so he used his gentle and sweet voice to have a better chance of convincing you.

You looked at him with an irritated pout and upset at having to let him go, but the promise of a glass of freshwater that could alleviate some of the heat that seemed to consume your body to the point of nausea seemed too good to refuse, so you reluctantly she let him go and lay back down on the bed "Okay… but come back soon!" You demanded like an abandoned puppy that couldn't bear to be separated from its owner.

"I'll be back before you can miss me" he said smiling and placed a brief kiss on your sweaty forehead, making you let out a small giggle and settle better into the pillows and covers as you waited for your handsome prince to return.

You couldn't really tell how long it actually took, since you closed your eyes hoping the headache would subside a little and then when you opened it Sanji had already returned, at least he really was right about you not having time to feel that you miss him.

"I brought some things..." he said smiling and sitting on the edge of the bed, he had a tray in his hands with some items that you analyzed tiredly. A small pot with various cut fruits, a glass of crystal clear water next to a towel and a bowl of water, probably to calm your body temperature.

"My hero" You smiled teasingly at him, but you were truly grateful that he put so much effort into looking after you in this time of need.

"Everything for you" He quickly handed you the glass of water that you desperately drank from, the relief of the cold liquid making your entire body relax immediately. You fell back onto the bed and Sanji quickly wet your towel in the water and placed it on your forehead, silently hoping that it would give you some relief and lower your temperature.

"You're so...perfect" You smiled, feeling relief fill your entire body, receiving love and care from Sanji seems to be the perfect medicine for your condition.

"No more perfect than you... Do you want to sleep a little longer? Maybe eat some fruit? Chopper left with Luffy so as soon as that clueless guy gets hungry they should run back to the ship" He said calmly, one hand still in his thigh making a gentle caress, lovingly comforting you.

"Not very hungry, my stomach is too upset and I don't want to risk it" You sighed tiredly "I think sleeping is good... I still feel tired"

"Do you want me to leave you alone?" He asked calmly, but you could feel the sadness and worry of leaving you alone. Sanji might have a very calm aura and seem to handle pressure situations well, but you knew that when it came to his loved ones it was a different story. You had already seen your boyfriend get feral or worried to the point of collapsing when one of the crew got hurt, so even if a cold wasn't anything serious, you knew he was extremely worried just because he loved you. The thought of you being hurt hurt him.

"No... I don't want to be alone" You said a little embarrassed, but being sick makes you need affection even more than usual "Just... stay here with me and talk a little about anything... Just until I fall asleep, please?" You asked shyly, hearing Sanji's voice always helped you calm down, every time you got ready for bed you had a good pillow talk. Usually talking about what they did that day and their plans for the week, you usually fell asleep faster while listening to Sanji talking gently and stroking your hair. So now you were sure that the best way to fall asleep and get some rest until Chopper arrived to take care of you, was nothing less than listening to your handsome boyfriend rambling about anything until you fell asleep, lulled by his angelic voice.

"What do you want me to talk about?" He moved closer to your lying body, now using his other free hand to stroke your hair and placing the other on your stomach, this hand you quickly grabbed to trace imaginary circles on his soft skin. He smiled lovingly at you in a way that made your whole body fill with a funny feeling, a strange embarrassment and at the same time a warm and calming emotion.

"I don't know... tell me about..." You thought for a few moments, you and Sanji talked a lot so you weren't sure if you didn't already know everything about him "About Baratie" You smiled tiredly, Sanji loved talking about the restaurant and his beloved family.

"I think I already told you everything about that shitty restaurant" He laughed, you knew that his aggressive and indifferent way was just trying to create an image of a badass without feelings, in the end that restaurant was still Sanji's house and she loved her immensely.

"Tell me about the beginning, when you opened it and you were still just a kid" You loved Sanji's stories, but you liked his stories as a child even more. You knew that Sanji's childhood was complicated for various reasons and traumas, so you liked to listen and show your support, show him that regardless of everything he went through you would continue to be by his side. Plus, it made you feel really important that he trusted you so much to tell you such a sensitive part of his past.

"Right, the opening isn't it? I remember that day well actually" He laughed awkwardly and his cheeks got a little red, it seemed like an embarrassing memory and that only made you more curious "It was a real mess" He said and he laughed embarrassedly.

"Why? I thought you already had experience having worked in a restaurant before" You said, becoming more and more curious.

"Experience in the kitchen and cleaning to be more specific, but I've never been in the salon, it's one thing to cut vegetables and another to deliver dishes to the table" He explained calmly "And in my case I definitely didn't know how to deliver dishes when I was a brat "

"Did you deliver it to the wrong table?" You deduced, there were many possibilities for confusion just due to Sanji's lack of experience.

"Also, but that was easier to solve, the biggest problem that day was when I spilled wine on a woman in a white dress" He sighed and his face had a nostalgic look, as if he could remember exactly piece by piece of that memory.

"Oh...that's pretty bad, what happened next?" You were worried that this was a particularly sad memory, Sanji never refused to tell you anything, even whatever were bad memories that still hurt him. So every time you asked about his past, you were doubly careful not to ask about something traumatic, now you were nervous about reminding him of something bad.

"I... well... it's shameful to admit but I wasn't very brave as a child..." He sighed and you felt that there was something there that made this fact much deeper, but that wasn't the topic for that moment " So when I spilled the wine and the woman screamed in shock, my first action was to start crying and the second was to run away" he laughed nervously and looked away, he always did that when he was afraid that you would judge him.

"Poor thing... you must have been so scared and nervous at the time" You smiled and caressed his hand, trying to comfort him and show him that there was no reason to feel ashamed of that "You were just a child after all, it's normal San"

"Yeah... it seems like it... but it didn't stop me from being overcome by fear and running away immediately" He sighed sadly and looked back at you.

"And then?" You asked fearfully, you weren't sure if the story ended in a sad way, but you wanted to know better so you could comfort Sanji and reassure him that everything was okay.

"I hid in one of the pantries, I sat on the floor and cried until my eyes were swollen" He laughed "Then the shitty old man appeared, he knelt in front of me and put his hand in my hair" He said and now the tone sad had been replaced by a loving tone with a hint of longing "He told me to breathe and when I calmed down he said that mistakes were common, that no one was capable of learning without making mistakes... And that if I wanted to one day be the best cook on those seas, I would still make a lot of mistakes and spill wine on more customers than I could count on my fingers"

It was your turn to laugh, you hadn't gotten to know Zeff but everything you heard about him only made you sure that you would love to meet him in person one day "And you saying that he doesn't know how to be kind..."

"He knows how to be kind, he just doesn't want to" Sanji laughed even more "Then he said that real men face their mistakes and failures with courage and not shame, because making mistakes means that you have the capacity to try and trying will always be the act bravest thing a person can do" He was silent for a few seconds "Then he told me to go back there and be a man, apologize to the client and admit my mistake... or he would throw me in the ocean" He totally laughed accustomed to the threat.

"Now I know where you got this habit of threatening people from" You laughed, remembering all the times Luffy was threatened with being thrown into the ocean when he tried to break into Sunny's kitchen.

"Yeah... I think I ended up getting it from him" He smiled satisfied and his face was lighting up, Sanji was always happy to be compared to Zeff "So I went back there and apologized, I thought the woman would freak out but she just laughed and said I was really cute for working so hard to help my dad..."

You remained silent, your eyes were already getting tired and you started to feel the sleep settle into your body.

"At the end of the day I realized that it hadn't been so bad... After all, the old man was right, I had no experience and I would still make a lot of mistakes until I got to where I wanted... I think that day I learned that I couldn't give up trying, regardless of how many times it would fail" He said, finishing the story, telling you that it seemed to have reminded him of a very important lesson he had learned... A lesson that he always carried with him in memory of the person he cared so much about.

Sanji noticed that you had been silent for some time, when he turned to you he found you sleeping peacefully, you were holding his hand with little strength and had placed your head against his side. You were breathing softly and your tired face was already gaining a little more color, which meant that you were slowly getting better.

He smiled lovingly and thanked the heavens for giving him someone so perfect to love and be loved in return. He quickly placed a brief, tender kiss on your cheek as he softly whispered "Sweet dreams mon ange"

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#one piece x reader #one piece #one piece x you #one piece imagine #imagines #onepiece #sanji x y/n #sanji x you #sanji x reader #sanji imagine

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