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milla-frenchy · 2 months

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After

2k8 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 Summary: you want Joel and finally get the opportunity to have him Warnings: 18+ mdni. Virginity loss, age gap (reader is 23, Joel is in his late 40s), dirty talk, praise kink, oral (f/m), piv a/n: @aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta reading, and for holding my hand with this one 💕🫶 Pic for mood only

Masterlist

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You had been watching the exchanges between Joel and Fedra soldiers for several weeks and finally he got scammed by one of them. When you offered him a new deal, you had a hard time hiding your satisfaction.

“You fucked up, Joel. Trusted the wrong guy,” you said with a smirk, “But I can help you.”

You had known him for several years. He sometimes did business with your father and never seemed interested in you. You were just “the daughter of”. He looked at you before letting out a surprised “You?”

“Yeah, me. Those supplies you need, I can get them for you. Come to my place tonight. I’ll show you a part of them and tell you how to get them all.”

He sighed, nodded, and left for his shift.

You heard his heavy footsteps on the stairs and opened the door before he knocked. He must have worked in the sewers that day because he had showered and changed. His hair was slicked back and still slightly wet.

“Ok, show me the supplies.”

You took out half of them, having watched his previous exchanges. You spied on him regularly, but you never thought you'd have the chance to get some kind of leverage over him. You had your own apartment in the QZ, where you lived alone after moving out of your father’s place.

No man interested you, except Joel. In recent years, you started looking at him differently. His gaze, his broad back, his hands obsessed you. At night, in your bed, you thought of him when your fingers rolled over your clit or when you rubbed yourself lying against your pillow. You imagined his body against yours. His kisses on your neck, his hands on your breasts. You imagined what you would have felt if he’d buried his length inside you. You wondered what his cock looked like and a few times, when you met him, you dared to lower your gaze to his crotch.

You had boyfriends before, but never did more than quick handjobs and blowjobs. None of them wanted to go further and you suspected them of being afraid of your father. You thought Joel would know how to deal with you. And now you had leverage.

“What’s your price?”

“I wanna have sex with you”, you replied confidently, making him laugh.

“You’re just a kid. Ain’t gonna fuck you.”

“I’m not a kid, I’m 23.”

“That’s what I said. A kid.”

“Come on, Joel. You can have all these supplies, just after having sex with me. Could be worse, don’t you think?”

“What about your dad?”

You rolled your eyes.

“I’m not asking you to fuck my dad, right?”

He smirked.

“You really want my dick that bad, that you’d give me all the supplies for it?”

“Yeah, in fact I do.”

He sighed. “Ok, your choice. Make me hard, if you want it that bad.”

You smirked and kneeled before unzipping his jeans. When his cock slipped free from his boxers, your lips formed an O. He was semi-hard, and already his size was impressive.

“Fuck”, you breathed out.

“Your boyfriends don’t have these kinda cocks? Come on, suck it.”

His hair there was slightly graying. He smelled of soap. You took his cock in your hand and collected the precum with your thumb.

“Spit on it.”

You did as he said, and you started jerking him off. He was getting harder. You licked his tip, lingering your tongue on his slit, filling your throat with his taste. You rounded your lips and took him in your mouth, applying yourself, breathing through your nose. You inwardly thanked the cocks you had practiced on before. Your head was bobbing and rising, and he was now fully hard. His cock was filling your entire mouth, precum flowing, and his taste was intoxicating you.

“Yeah, just like that. Keep goin’. You’re doing great.”

It was the first time a man spoke to you this way, and you were soaked. Gaze fixed on him, you took his cock out of your mouth and licked his entire length. From the base of his shaft to the slit. Then you licked one of his balls and took it in your mouth.

“Fuck…yeah, keep goin’. Didn’t know your father raised such a slut.”

You moved to the other ball, still jerking him, your thumb caressing his balls.

“Yeah…shit. Take my cock in your mouth again now. Keep suckin’ baby, just like that.”

His praise encouraged you. His hand was on your head, not applying any pressure. But when you took him back in your mouth, he held your head between his palms.

“Gonna fuck your throat now.”

He pushed all the way in, slowly, but giving you time to get used to his girth, to breathe calmly.

“Stay like that, don’t move. Yeah…good girl.”

He pulled back until only his tip remained in your mouth, and thrusted in again, faster, hitting the back of your throat. Again, he held you against him, your nose buried in his hair. Then he fucked your throat. You heard him grunt, and you were afraid he would shoot his cum down your throat. Like the other guys before. But Joel wasn’t like them. He was fucking your throat for a while, letting you catch your breath from time to time by pulling out. He was smirking watching the string of saliva connect your mouth to his cock. Finally he released you.

“Lie down on the bed and take off your clothes. Show me that cunt.”

You took off your clothes: t-shirt, jeans and panties, lay down and spread your legs, showing him your dripping pussy. He stroked himself a few times, eyes on you.

“You really want that? Ain’t got any boys of your age to fuck you?”

“Don’t want them.”

He looked at you again and shrugged before taking off his clothes.

“Need to stretch you first. Don’t wanna tear that slit.”

Shivers ran through your body when he placed his mouth on your folds and his tongue ran over them. “Fuck,” you moaned. Other men had gone down on you before, but he was different. Joel was eating you like a starving man, lapping at your pussy, drinking all the wetness that flowed from it. And he was hot. He was looking at you with a piercing stare while his tongue was buried in you. His broad shoulders were forcing your thighs open, and his hands were keeping them against the sheets.

“Yeah, you really want it…,” he growled between your thighs. And he was right. You wanted him, you wanted all of him, and you were moaning nonstop. He placed his lips around your clit, swirled his tongue over it and pushed his middle finger into your core, making you whimper. He added his index finger and you winced.

“You’re fuckin’ tight…when was your last fuck?”

“Shit, who cares? Keep goin’.”

He shrugged again, and thrusted both of his thick fingers into you. You focused on your clit, moaning. He was fucking your cunt with his digits easily now. You felt your wetness flowing down to your ass.

“Gonna cum for me? Come on, baby, you can do it. Give it to me, then I’ll fuck you.”

He sucked your clit again and your body shuddered, squirming under his tongue and fingers.

“Good girl. Good fuckin’ girl, clenching on my fingers like that. Want to get fucked that bad, uh? I’m gonna give it to you now.”

He carefully removed his fingers, and lapped between your folds one last time. When he stood up, you looked at his cock, hard as steel now, and you felt your cheeks heat up.

“Sure you can take it?”

“Yeah…yeah, I can take it, Joel.”

He nodded and laid between your thighs, cock in his hand, and he pressed it against your entrance before pushing lightly. You gasped and he pulled out.

“What is it?”

Your eyebrows were furrowed, and a tear ran down your cheek.

“Fuck, don’t tell me…don’t tell me you’re a virgin?”

He looked at you with wide eyes. You nodded shyly.

“Damn, what’s wrong with you? I ain’t gonna fuck you.”

“Please, Joel! I want it. Please.”

“I…fuck…sweetheart, I ain’t for first time. That cock ain’t for first times. I'm sorry."

“Please. Just…I don’t know, go slow?”

“Shit…It’s one thing to fuck you. Being your first time, is something else. The fuck is wrong with you? Can't you have your first time with a good boy in a decent place…But not with me, not as my payment.”

“Stop protecting me, or whatever you’re doing. Just fuck me. How many times do I have to tell you I want it?”

He looked at you, hesitant. You expected him to shrug but he didn’t. He laid between your thighs again. His tip nestled at your entrance. He pushed in again, slowly, his eyes locked with yours. He must have felt you tense, even if it was involuntarily, even if you wanted it, and he caressed your cheek. He pressed his lips to yours with a sweetness you didn’t expect coming from him.

Joel’s ruthless attitude was well known in the QZ. And here, right now, he was offering you an unexpected kindness. His lips were warm and soft. You felt your heart race when his tongue sought yours, passing the barrier of your lips. His cock twitched inside your walls. Before kissing you, he had paused pushing in, only his tip nestling inside you. He pulled away from your face and took your hands in his. He placed them on either side of your head, against the mattress, and said, “hold my hands, baby. Hold ‘em tight.” His body was warm against yours. Somehow, you felt reassured by his weight pressing you down.

So you squeezed his hands, and he looked at you, pointing his chin towards you, as if to say “ready?” You nodded, and he thrusted in again, muttering “fuck” through his clenched teeth.

He pushed halfway inside your pussy and you closed your eyes. “Look at me,” he murmured. You bit your lip as you opened your eyes, struggling not to tell him to stop, not to let the fear overwhelm you. He pulled back, his eyes in yours, keeping just the tip at your entrance, before thrusting in again. This time he didn’t stop. You squeezed his hands tighter and held your breath, until he bottomed out. He rested his forehead against yours, pausing deep inside you, and said, “Breath, sweetheart. You’re gonna be ok.”

He pulled back before thrusting in again, his movements were smooth and gentle. Your pain was gone, and the way he buried himself inside you, caressing your folds, made you squeeze his shaft. Your gaze remained fixed on his, devouring him. His brown eyes, his furrowed eyebrows, the brown curls of his now dry hair.

He stopped again and you pleaded “no, no, no, please, don’t stop. It’s…it’s good, it doesn't hurt anymore.”

“I know, baby, but…fuck. I need a minute. You’re too tight. Lemme…hold my breath, ok? Or I ain’t gonna last.”

You nodded, but you had a hard time stopping your hips from rolling towards him. You didn’t want it to end, didn’t want to stop feeling him in you. So you focused on him again. His nose, his mustache, his lips, and his patchy beard. You let go of his hands and placed yours on his biceps. You wanted to feel his muscles under your fingers, the warmth of his skin under yours.

“Shit…ok. How do you feel, baby?”

“I’m ok, Joel. Told you I could take it”, you said proudly with a cute smile - at least you hoped.

He smiled and kissed you again, as he started to fuck you, a little deeper this time, slightly faster.

You roamed your fingers over his arms, his shoulders, his back. His lips left yours, and his nose ran across your cheek before brushing your neck. His soft mustache made you shiver, and when he kissed the delicate skin there, everything you had imagined about him came back to you. He was perfect, just like in your fantasies.

He was fucking you slowly again, and you spread your thighs to feel him deeper in you. He was rubbing his pelvis against your clit, and you felt another orgasm building. Different from all the others you had so far. A deeper one, coming from the depths of your body, and you were moaning at every thrust.

“You like it, sweetheart?”

“Yes Joel, it’s so good…I don't want it to stop, please, don’t stop..”

He kissed your neck again, and said “I won’t. I know you’re good. You feel it coming?”

“I…fuck, yeah! How do you know?”

He gave a confident little nod, just as your orgasm overwhelmed you and made you clench on his cock. You whimpered and he held you tighter against him, his arms under your shoulders.

He whispered in your ear, “you’re such a good girl, coming on my cock. Damn, you’re squeezing me so tight baby.”

You could barely hear him, and your body was still trembling.

“Joel…,” you whined.

“I know, baby, I know…You’re ok. You’re ok.”

He kept thrusting into you the whole time, slowly, deeply, and you felt like his cock was made for you. You knew it was a dangerous thing to think, but couldn’t help it.

You heard him whisper in your ear again, “wanna try something, sweetheart?”

“I’m not sure if I can-”

He stopped moving, and placed his hands on your cheeks.

“Do you trust me?”

You nodded. Of course you trusted him. Right here, right now, he seemed to be the most trustworthy person in your world.

“I’m gonna lay on my back, and you’re gonna ride me. I’ll help you if you need me.”

You nodded again, and when he withdrew you whimpered, crying his loss as silently as you could. He lay down on his back, and when you saw the stained sheets you froze. “It’s ok. Nothing that can't come off after washing. And if it doesn't go away I'll give you other ones.”

You realized that he was constantly reassuring you since he found out that you were a virgin, and had never been rough. Your heart sank again.

You straddled him and whispered “how do I do it?” You felt inexperienced and clumsy, but once again he didn’t judge you.

“Take my cock in your hand, use me how you want it. You’re in control.”

You positioned his tip at your entrance and he nodded encouragingly. You lowered yourself onto his shaft, feeling your pussy welcome him. You didn't dare take all of him at first, and you rolled your hips slightly, your chest against his.

“Yeah, just like that baby”, he said, caressing your back.

When you felt like you could take more, you welcomed him deeper, whimpering in his neck, rubbing your cheek against his beard, as if to forget the heat in your core. You slid down his shaft, your hands roaming his cheeks, his neck, his torso. You wanted to feel everything. To fill all your five senses with just him.

You sat up, ready to take him fully. He placed his large hands on your breasts and hard nipples. You welcomed his warmth and covered his hands with yours. You were feeling his cock differently. Deeply. You looked at him, he seemed wrecked and you didn’t expect it.

“I’m not gonna last much longer. Rub your clit now, baby. Come on my cock one last time”, he said.

You nodded, and placed your finger on your clit. You felt fully exposed and vulnerable in front of him, but there were no red flags in him. You wondered if that would change the next time you’d see him, if he would avoid you. You pushed the idea out of your mind, focusing on your sensations. You kept riding him, eager to show him you were learning how to do it right. How much you loved it. And you truly did. Your finger was swirling over your clit, and you couldn’t believe that another orgasm was building in you.

“Joel…I’m gonna cum again, it’s…fuck, it’s so good.”

“Yeah, you like that, baby? Can feel it…you're gonna clench on my cock again? Gonna soak it, till you’ll drip on my balls?” His words made you whimper and you came a third time on his cock. Your head fell back, and he waited as long as he could before he lifted you up lightly and pulled out. He jerked off quickly, then spurted his cum against your thighs and your pussy, growling.

You laid against him, both of you trying to catch your breath, and he held you in his arms. You knew that you wanted to feel him again. To feel his lips, his hands on you. His cock in your mouth and in your cunt. You played tough when he arrived at your place, and now you felt different, your heart wanted to be filled too.

Again, the word “after” flashed in your mind, and pain twisted your heart.

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

Thank you for reading 🙏

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#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #virginity loss #friends of juice collective #joel x reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #joel x f!reader #joel x you #joel x female reader #tlou #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal #tlou fic

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multific · 1 year

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Memories of A Past

Pennywise x Reader

Summary: Before Pennywise became the killing clown of Derry, he used to be a simple man, your man.

Before a meteor hit, before all the blood and children cries, he used to be a simple man.

A simple man who worked at the circus. A simple man who was in desperate love with you.

He was your man.

And you were his woman.

His name was Robert Gray, better known as Bob Gray, better known as Pennywise the Dancing Clown.

Bob was the love of your life. He could make you smile all the time. He always had something up his sleeve and he loved your laugh.

Your father was against Robert. He often said you deserved better than a clown.

But you didn't care.

You married him and joined the circus.

It was a simple life, but it was your life. Yours and your Bobby's.

And soon, you were blessed with a child. A beautiful daughter who was loved by you and Robert.

"She has your eyes." he said as he smiled at you, tears in your eyes as you watched him with your daughter.

You had a lovely life. Robert made everyone smile with his dancing clown persona and your daughter was growing fast.

But then, something changed. One day, you could have sworn the man in front of you wasn't your husband anymore.

The man holding you during nights, the man who kissed you good morning, wasn't your Bobby.

And it scared you.

He scared you.

"You are the most precious." he often told you, whispered into your ear.

Everywhere you went, death followed. Children were dying left and right and you were extremely concerned.

Then during the Easter Egg Hunt you had a feeling your husband had something to do with it, you couldn't confirm it though.

That evening, when you arrived home to your trailer, you noticed your husband still wearing his clown costume, he turned to look at you and you wanted to ask him.

You needed to confront him, you needed answers. But your voice never came.

You weren't too sure what happened after. All you could recall were three bright dots, shining bright as you fell asleep.

Pennywise woke every 27 years. He woke to incredible hunger which he needed to fulfil.

He had you down in the debts. Keeping you there for centuries now, asleep, dreaming away.

Pennywise had an attachment to you. He wondered if it was because of the host he took. Taking Robert, he took his memories, and Robert's memories were filled with you. At first, Pennywise wanted to kill you, he saw you as a weakness, but he couldn't.

And even after so so many years, he still couldn't let go of you. He kept you in your dream, so he would have you, floating.

Every time he woke up, he went to see you. His sick and twisted mind saw the beauty that you were. He placed a gentle hand on your cheek.

"You are the most precious," he whispered.

And while he was out there eating and scaring children, you and your Bob were trapped in a dream along with your little girl.

Taglist: @fleursirvart @greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace @sincerelyfan @theoneanna @aestheticsandmarvel @rororo06 @castellandiangelo @destynelseclipsa @spilledinkindumpster @capsiclesdoll @puknow @alwayshave-faith @alex12948 @lxdyred @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek @praline357 @trshngyn @avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, PLAGIARISE, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

#Pennywise #Pennywise x reader #Pennywise x you #Pennywise imagine #Pennywise imagines #bill skarsgard imagine #it imagine #it imagines #it x reader #horror #horror x reader #slasher #slasher short #slasher x reader #slasher imagine #slasher imagines

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lewmagoo · 3 months

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older!bobby coaching you thru riding him for the first time cause he's so big and he knows it 🤭

the subtly condescending praise when you finally take all of him🫠

"i can take it." you spoke with confidence, holding eye contact with bob. there was amusement in those baby blues, and he smiled, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he did so. "i dunno, baby." his fingers trailed over the fabric of your panties as he hovered over you. "your pussy's so little. could barely take me last night." last night. the very first time you'd slept with him. you were still a little sore from it. it was almost as if you could still feel him inside you, stretching you, filling you in a way that made you feel so whole and complete. you wanted him in you again, but this time, you wanted to be on top.

"please?" you continued, lifting your foot to playfully nudge against his cock, which remained confined within the fabric of his underwear. he faltered slightly, eyelashes fluttering. "don't give me that look, angel," he chided. "what look?" you innocently asked. "those puppy eyes of yours. know i can't resist them," he continued, shaking his head. at that, you pouted. "i wouldn't have to if you'd give me what i want," came your retort. bob couldn't help but smirk at your petulance. "yeah? and what is it that you want?" "to ride your dick." finally, he relented. "have you ever been on top before?" he asked.

"no," you said. he knew you'd only had one sexual encounter before you'd met him, and it had happened back in high school. what you had experienced with bob the night before had been better than anything you could have ever imagined. and now, you felt insatiable. you needed him again. "alright then," he murmured. "let me teach you how to do it." but first, came foreplay. last night, you had learned that bob enjoyed extensive foreplay. he took his time with you, exploring every inch of your body, speaking in hushed tones, filthy words masked behind a gentle, loving tone. this morning was no different.

"let me love on this cute body of yours for a bit." his eyes twinkled as he pulled back the sheets, revealing your bare form. he kissed you languidly, big hands coming up to tend to the softness of your breasts. once your nipples were pebbled beneath his touch, he made his way down your body, kissing, nipping, and licking at every inch. "so pretty," he praised. "taste so sweet." but that sparked curiosity within you. "do i really taste sweet?" you shyly asked. he looked up at you, reaching up to shove his graying hair out of the way, and he smiled. "you do. the way your skin naturally tastes and smells to me...i could just eat you up, baby doll." he laved his tongue over your lower abdomen before he pushed your legs apart.

"could eat this pussy up, too." deft fingers tenderly parted your folds. "oh, just look at her. poor thing's so swollen. i did a number on her last night, didn't i?" he kissed at your puffy cunt, and you shivered, letting your head fall back against the pillows. he left soothing kisses all along your center, and when his tongue lightly swirled around your clit, you whimpered. it wasn't long before you could feel the warmth of arousal beginning to pool there. "mmm," he hummed, "she's starting to get all drippy for me." he lapped at your wetness, eager for a taste, and you couldn't help the moan that left you.

then he worked two fingers inside you, keeping his movements slow and steady. "atta girl," he praised, as he watched your pussy accommodate the digits. "gotta get you ready for me." then, a third finger was tentatively added, and you squealed. he soothed you as you squirmed beneath him. "i'm ready!" you cried, "please, bobby. just want your cock inside me!" he couldn't hide his smile. "okay, okay, gimme a second, honey." he shifted, moving to tug his underwear off, and your eyes immediately flickered down to his cock, hard and heavy between his legs. thick and veiny, with the prettiest pink tip. you hadn't expected every inch of him to be beautiful, but that was exactly what he was. of course he'd have a gorgeous cock.

bob settled with his back against the headboard, and then he guided you to straddle him. as you got settled, he reached over to the nightstand and grabbed the bottle of lube he'd placed there the night before. you bit your lip as you watched the liquid cascade down his dick. he set the bottle aside and stroked his shaft a few time before he let it rest against you. "that's where it's gonna be inside you, honey," he said, and you glanced down, gasping softly at the sight. how did he even fit? he reached up, tilting your chin so you were looking at him. "if you need to stop or take a break, just let me know. don't want you pushing yourself too far," he said, his tone serious. you nodded. "okay," you answered.

he smiled, leaning up to kiss you. when you parted, he drew you in again, big hand resting at the base of your neck. his kisses were languid and deep as he guided your hips up, free hand grasping his cock and aligning it with you. once you felt his tip at your entrance, you sighed against his mouth and slowly began to inch down. he didn't push his hips up to meet you, he simply let you sink down of your own accord. you let your hands rest upon his broad shoulders for leverage, and you squeezed your eyes shut, taking him this morning was a little easier than it was the night before, because you knew what to expect, but you were still a little tender, which had you moving slow.

but bob didn't mind one bit. he'd rather you take it at your own pace than forcing yourself to take too much all at once. you weren't how long it took to finally settle against him, but it was a while. bodies flush with each other, you took a deep breath, relishing in the fullness. his hands settled on your hips, and below you, he spoke, voice gravelly. "take as long as you need," he said. then, "do you want my help, or do you wanna do it yourself?" at which you replied with, "wanna do it myself." so you placed your hands upon his chest and began to rock your hips against him.

it took you a moment, but you soon found a rhythm, and bob praised you. "there ya go, that's it. who's my good girl?" your eyes fluttered open, and you gazed down at him, expression already fucked out. "i-i am." and you were. you wanted to hear that praise endlessly. knowing you were giving this man so much pleasure made you feel like you were on top of the world. he was so much more experienced than you, but he made you feel like you were the only one in the world who'd ever made him feel this good.

but that need for praise drove you to tire yourself out. you quickly began to realize that you couldn't do this for a long period of time. your thighs were beginning to burn and quake. suddenly, you weren't so sure of yourself. "let me take over," bob offered. "n-no," you protested, shaking your head. "wanna make you feel good." he stayed your hips with his hands. "and you are. but i won't have you overexerting yourself for my pleasure. let me take control, baby doll. i'll take good care of you, promise."

finally, you let yourself fall against his chest. he hushed you as he wrapped his big arms around your body, planting his feet against the bed as he began to move. it wasn't long before he had you crying out above him. the feeling of his cock filling you from this angle was unmatched, and you could feel yourself gushing around him. he could feel it, too. "sweet pussy's just drooling all over me. love being so full, don't you?" he coos, but you can't even utter a reply, because you've gone speechless. if you were more coherent, you might've been embarrassed about the fact that your mouth was currently drooling against his chest. but he had you feeling so good that you didn't care.

he carefully fucked into you, cautious not to cause unnecessary harm to your anatomy. he was so dominant and tender all at once. the way he was handling you had you plummeting toward the edge so quickly already. and when his hand snaked between your bodies to rub at your swollen clit, it had you squealing in bliss. "that's it. want you to come whenever you need to. let me feel that pussy squeeze me." it wasn't long before you were right there, whining pathetically, mouthing at his chest as you felt warmth begin to blossom within you. and before you knew it, you were coming, trembling in his arms as he fucked you through it.

"there ya go. give it to me, baby doll." and you did. you soaked him with your release, surely ruining the sheets below, but not finding it in yourself to care. a dumb smile spread across your face as you came down, and in your post orgasm haze, you looked up at him, "i did it, i rode your dick," you said with a giggle. still hard inside you, he couldn't help but laugh along with you. "took it like a champ, honey. i'm so proud of you." you leaned in to kiss him, and then you murmured, "now keep going. wanna feel this dick come inside me again."

#asks #bob musings #bob floyd x reader #older bf bob #bob floyd fanfiction

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dollwrites · 10 months

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𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!reader but she’s not really there, masturbation, reigen keeps videos, oral sex ( m!receiving ), probably poorly written reigen, all characters featured are aged 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ big big special thankies to @arabaka for not only introducing me to reigen but also giving me advice about his characterization and helping me get to know him better 🥺. please reblog && leave feedback. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3

Reigen is so sloppy when he jacks off. that’s why he typically prefers to lie in bed, moaning your name, that way he can ruin his own sheets, or roll over on to his stomach to hump against the mattress. his sweat and cum mingle on the bedding, cheeks red and glistening, eyes closed as he digs his fingers into his pillow, rutting, needy. he imagines you under him, legs spread and eyes glassy like they get when he pounds you hard. he likes to make you go dumb on his cock, and remember how you drooled and begged him, later when he’s alone.

but every now and then, the urge for you rears its head while he’s at the office.

and that’s what the videos are for.

so that he might find himself sprawled in his chair, legs spread wide and cock jabbing upwards, pink-tipped and throbbing, coated in the spit in his palm as he strokes himself silly with one hand, and grips his phone tightly in the other. the audio is cranked, and the way your visage slurps as you worship his tip on the video before him is forcing his breathing to catch in his throat. you were always so damn eager to suck him off, and he was way more than willing to let you.

“So cute… how are you s-so cute when you—” he grunts to himself, and when your tongue glides against his slit on the screen, Reigen mimics, pressing his thumb against the sensitive hole and rubbing back and forth, just the way you would. he groans in the back of his throat, and his eyes threaten to close, but he wants to watch so bad, they simply flutter instead, lids heavy. after a moment of teasing himself, he watches your mouth open wide, and he elicits a soft, happy whimper when the squishy head slips in. he can remember exactly how the inside of your mouth feels, and he attempts to imitate the sensation by enveloping his cock tip with his palm, tightening his grip around the frenulum to simulate the tight, stretch of your plushy lips. your eyes, though zeroed in on the camera as he films you, go hazy when his dick fills your mouth, and Reigen’s hips push forward, fucking his own hand and the air, simultaneously, breathing ragged. he loves that look on your face— when your senses are overwhelmed, and all you can see, smell, and taste is his sex; it’s as if the moment his cock slips in, your brain turns off.

when your head starts to bob, up and down, Reigen has to shift, changing the pace and angle of his stroking, smearing spit and the beading precum over his cock as he pumps furiously to keep up with the rhythm you’d set a few nights prior. the cocktail dribbles along the edges of his fly, soaking a ring of wetness against his gray pants, but he doesn’t care, he’s too caught up in it. jaw hanging slack, cheeks cherry red, his breathing comes and goes in furious, strangled puffs in between gargling, desperate moaning.

“Pretty, little cocksucker… my pretty girl, so f—fucking talented with that, hng, soft mouth a’yours…” perspiration runs in racing stripes down his temple, over his cheeks, and streams on his throat as a prominent vein bulges there, a telltale sign that he was inching closer to release. Reigen can hear his own voice over the recording, begging you to suck it, pleading for you to suck his cock like it’s the only thing in the world that matters to you, and he can tell by the dizzy look on your face, that it is.

“P-please, oh— shit, ‘s good… you make me feel so, so good!” Reigen hunches forward, closer to the screen as his strokes become erratic, squeezing his tip and then bucking his hips to slide through his slick palm, fucking it like it was your throat. seeing the digital clone of his dick disappear, only to watch your cheeks bulge and your eyes roll back in your head, he’s teetering on the edge of a big orgasm, a needy one, but when you start to cluck with each thrust, Reigen knows that must’ve been about the time he was battering your gag reflex, and he lost it.

furiously pistoning his fist up and down his own length, he forgets where he’s at. he forgets himself, and becomes a grunting, panting, whimpering mess of taut muscles and rutting. “That’s it, y-yes, yes, yes!”

falling back against his office chair, his knees spread, the muscles in his arm burns, but he can’t stop, he can’t ease up off this brutal rhythm until the first spurts of his release erupt from his swollen, twitching cock. a flustered gasp, one in the form of your name, escapes his lips, and so does a small trickle of drool, as the first streamers land against his phone screen, dripping on and obscuring your euphoric expression. Reigen gargles a contented moan, his fist running up to wring at his tip, extracting more of his load in a milking fashion, until it splatters on his abdomen, staining his suit and dampening the white shirt underneath. what he had left to siphon out of his tender, softening cock dribbled out from his slit and oozed down along his shaft while he panted like a wild animal, globbing in the patch of golden hair at his base.

the video ends, and he’s too worn out to do much but allow his phone to clatter against his desk, twitching and bathing in afterglow. his office smells of his sweat and sex, and he closes his eyes, taking a ragged, satiated breath.

he still can’t believe the power you hold over him, how you make him a depraved, base fool. just the thought of you is enough to have his cock twitching again, and he groans, running the pad of his thumb over the throbbing vein nearest the base. “Already?” he asked aloud, incredulous at just how willing his body was to spring back and demand your attention. he would have to rub at least one more out before he could focus long enough to get through the rest of his work day.

but he would still be desperate enough that you would get the fuck of your life when he got home.

#ding ding ding round 2 😭#MAYBE I GOT HIM RIGHT THIS TIME #reigen #reigen arataka smut #mp reigen #reigen x reader #reigen x you #reigen smut #reigen arataka #reigen arataka x reader #reigen arataka x you #mob psycho 100 #mob psycho #mp100

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onlyyvette · 10 months

Text

TF NSFW Headcanons #2 - Optimus Prime

Warnings: sub/bottom Optimus Prime + heavy praise kink + breeding kink + he's so malewife + size kink + lots of kissing + rough sex + oral fixation + slight humiliation kink + he's such a whore for praise + i hope you guys like transforming trucks

A/N: The interpretation is up to the reader, but I was imagining idw Optimus while making this.

-> Frame Optimus is your type of mech if you like big, beautiful mechs who are most likely stronger than you. Optimus has wide, heavy set hips and thick white thighs that many of his berth partners ask him to suffocate their heads with. He has a wide and heavy chassis that's warm and soothing to the touch especially due to the matrix inside of him. His finials are actually very sensitive and he loves to have his partners tug on them as he whines a bit. His deep baritone is so soothing to listen to, and sounds heavenly when he lets out long moans or the occasional whine or whimper when he's overstimulated.

Optimus' array is exactly what you'd expect from a mech of his size. His spike is quite proportionate, the same gray color as his faceplate with red and blue strips of biolights decorating it. His valve is so pretty, a blue color with blue pulsing biolights and a bright red node which also happens to be very big, drawing his partner's attention. Optimus' valve is plush and deep, softly massaging his partner's spike as they sink themselves in as far as they can. His matrix-powered frame has built in magnets that makes his valve suck in his partner's spike even deeper and stimulates their spike.

-> Breeding If there's anything you want to do with Optimus during interface to guarantee that he'll overload is to promise to breed him. This kink shows when Optimus hears his conjunx talk about how they'll fill his gestation tank up with their transfluid and have him carry their sparkling, he doesn't take it as a threat, he takes it as a promise. When his conjunx finally frags him just how he likes it, his deep moans fill the room as his valve takes the spike inside of him deep. Once his conjunx announces that they'll breed him well and good, no matter how close or far he is from his overload, he will overload so hard that he might just short circuit, his HUD flashing with warnings of overheating. Finally, the feeling of transfluid filling his gestation chamber is so euphoric that depending on how far off he is, might result in an overload so powerful it causes his whole systems to reboot. This kink makes mating press is his favorite position<3

-> Size Kink Optimus has a size kink but not in the way that many people would think. Optimus doesn't care too much about the size of his partners, but he definitely enjoys when his partners can manhandle and dominate him, especially when they're smaller than him. He loves to see his smaller partners on top of him as they push him into whatever surface they're interfacing on and just frag him so hard that his helm is left spinning. His smaller partners get an ego boost when they see how compliant the Prime is for them that it riles them up, giving them the energy to last longer in Optimus' tight valve as they tease him about how desperate he is for a mech that's almost half his size. It makes him burn with humiliation yet he just can't get enough of it.

-> Oral Fixation Optimus loves to have something filling his mouth. He gets easily excited when his partner brings their servo up to his mouth and presses their digits into his intake, prodding at his glossa. He'll gladly choke on those digits if his partner wishes so. Even more gladly, he enjoys sucking spike. He'll worship any spike in front of him no matter the size, his glossa working itself up and down the spike's length, deepthroating it as far as he can. And he will take all of it. He lets out adorable moans as he bobs up and down on the spike in front of him, making sure to pleasure his partner. Even he gets off on it, his charge quickly raising as he services the spike in front of him. And if his partner fucks his mouth? He'll absolutely lose it. Optical fluid will streak down his face as he lets out choked moans, his partner ramming their spike down his intake. His panel will retract and his lubricant will drip onto the surface below as he tries desperately to not touch himself.

-> Kissing Connecting to his oral kink, Optimus loves to kiss his partner. It's embarrassing for him to admit, but intense makeout sessions is one of his biggest kinks. The way that his partner's glossa invades his intake, wrestling Optimus' own glossa for control. Optimus gets so light headed that all he can do is whimper into the kiss as he allows himself to be dominated. He enjoys it at any pace, whether the glossa invading his intake is slow and loving or rough and passionate. He could very well overload just from the feeling of his intake being assaulted by a highly skilled glossa, bonus points if the mech is holding his hips or waist tightly as they grind their leg against Optimus' panel.

-> Praise Optimus has a praise kink. No arguments. The poor mech has the weight of the whole world on his shoulders, his autobots always looking up to him as their leader, all his enemies wanting his head, it's just so much for him to deal with! But whenever his partner has their servos roaming his frame as they coo into his audials of how much of a good bot he his, how beautiful he is, he'll be putty in their hands. He always whines when he's being praised because he truly doesn't think he's deserving of it :(. Optimus loves being praised while sucking spike because it makes feel so good. To just swirl his glossa around a spike as his partner grunts above him, praising him for all the hard work he's putting into servicing them. It always gives him this fuzzy feeling in his processor and is the easiest way to get him deep into subspace.

#vetty's works. ✿#vetty's fics. ✿#yvette's works. ✿#yvette's fics. ✿#valveplug #optimus prime #transformers smut #transformers idw #transformers #maccadam #optimus prime x reader #optimus x reader #i was debating whether i should make his name blue or red

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coryosmin · 3 months

Note

Peacekeeper!Sejanus and district!reader doing anything to get his attention. It could get wild ;)

mdni | nsfw | peacekeeper sej x fem!reader

imagine sej being call secretive all bc of a crush and not committing treason giggles. anyways i’m sick so this is a shitty blurb i’m so sorry pookie

sejanus noticed you every time he was at the hob or he was on patrol. you were this pretty district 12 girl, someone anyone could notice. with your beautiful hair and your gorgeous eyes. he could spot you anywhere in the room. and you always spotted him as well.

being a peacekeeper, he didn’t have a lot of time to himself. coryo was either always with him, patrolling with him or he was with his other peacekeeper mates. but today was one of those rare occasions that he could be alone. coryo was down at the meadow with lucy gray while his other peacekeeper buds were off doing whatever they wanted to do.

so sej went to the hob.

and when he got to the hob, he saw you. though perhaps looking at you would turn creepy because he felt like he was always looking for you. so he turned his attention to the knife stand, buying a few with the money his Ma had sent him. he tried his best not to look at you. until you did something that made him have to look at you.

you stole bread from a vendor. and sej was the only peacekeeper there at the moment.

so sejanus had to be the one to diffuse the situation. he walked up to you. “hey, you know stealing’s against the rules.” he spoke to you, furrowing his eyebrows.

you smirked, putting the bread back. “you’re right, i’m sorry.” you said almost mockingly.

your voice was so soft and heavenly that sejanus’s heart fluttered. and it wasn’t until he dragged you out (he didn’t drag you pls he was softly guiding you out of the hob) and into an empty alleyway that you spoke again. “you’re quite handsome,” you murmured, still smirking.

sejanus was taken aback. he was ready to have to yell at you like he would because of his peacekeeper duties. but he simply sighed. “thank you,” he murmured back. “you know i can’t let you go unpunished, right?” he said, looking into your beautiful eyes.

“maybe i did it to get punished by you.” your voice became sultry as you still had that same smirk on your face.

sejanus couldn’t help the blush on his face as he realized the implications of your tone. he bit his lip. “then maybe you should get on your knees.” he whispered, not trusting his voice.

and so you did. you got on your knees in the alleyway, unbuckling sejanus’s pants for him. and god he was hard. why was he hard already? barely anything has happened. god he’s such a virgin. sejanus inhaled sharply as his cock escaped the confines of his pants. you let out a soft moan as you licked the tip, causing sejanus to shiver.

he brought his hand to your hair, caressing your head gently. you engulfed his cock into your mouth, easing your head down on it slowly until his cock hit the back of your throat. and sejanus brought his other hand to his mouth to avoid moaning.

you began bobbing your head up and down, the alleyway filling with the sounds of his cock in your throat. sejanus was breathing heavily, gripping your hair. you hollowed your cheeks, adding to the pleasure. “oh fuck,” sejanus whispering, bucking his hips. you gagged as his cock went deeper. “s-sorry.” he murmured to you.

you moaned in response, almost a plea for him to do it again. sejanus bucked his hips again, making tears appear in your eyes as you looked up at him. you’re so pretty with his cock in your mouth and those pretty tears in your eyes. sejanus began to rock his hips slowly, not enough to completely fuck your throat but enough to add to the pleasure.

and within minutes, sejanus is stuttering, “i-i’m close.” you continued your movements, wanting the hot peacekeeper to shoot his load in your mouth. and so he does. sejanus is cumming with his hand tangled in your hair and his hand covering his mouth as he tried not to moan.

after a few moments he calmed and you stood back up. “was that enough for my punishment, soldier?” your voice was hoarse but you had that smirk back on your face, your thumb wiping the small amount of cum that you didn’t swallow from your lip. you brought your thumb to your mouth, licking it.

sejanus buckled his pants back up, nodding his head. your actions and face were enough to get him going again but he’d rather not be embarrassed. “yes,” he murmured. “will i see you again?”

you smiled, nodding your head. “come see me at the hob tomorrow night while the covey is playing. maybe you could punish me more.” and with that, you walked away.

and when sejanus finally made his way back to the markets, inserting himself into a conversation with billy taupe, coryo walked up to him asking if he was okay. to which sejanus just nodded his head as if nothing happened at all.

#the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #minsasks #thg #tbosas #thg tbosas #sej x reader #sejanus plinth x fem!reader #sejanus plinth smut #sejanus plinth x reader #sejanus x you #sejanus plinth

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averagewriter-inthedark · 1 year

Text

Got Ink? 💉 | Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd Imagine

Takes place before, during, and after the events of TGM

TGM masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x tattooed model!reader (romantic), dagger squad (platonic)

Content Warnings: fluff, profanity, mentions of pain as a result of tattoos. Slight suggestive content if you blink | Female!reader (she/her) | wc: 6k

Requested 📨 yes/no (rules for requests)

Premise: Art comes in many different forms. And when you technically think about it, your body is a canvas that can be become a mural if you find yourself drawn to the beauty that tattoos bring. For WSO Bob Floyd, he appreciated art in every form and loved how patterns and colors could create something beautiful. When his sister invites him to a party for her job shortly after returning from a special mission with the Navy, Bob meets a woman who was the perfect canvas he’d ever seen.

Note: I cannot tell you how much I loved doing this request. As soon as I got it I was like, ‘I’m gonna love this,’ especially as someone who has tattoos and wants to have a lot (I have at least twenty planned) this was feeding my love for tattoos. To the anon who sent this request I hope you like it, I really enjoyed writing this for you and I hope you’re okay with me choosing Bob since you said you wouldn’t mind if it was him or Jake—since I just did a Jake imagine I wanted to give Bob some love 🥹 Also I made it where reader was born in 1989 so if we were to go by Bob being born in 1993 like Lewis then she’d be about four years older since the events of TGM take place in 2019.

——————————

They often say that when you get your first tattoo it will either be the one and only time you subject yourself to the temporary pain of permanent ink…or it becomes one of many.

“It’s an addiction”, people defend, though they should probably look up the term addiction before using it in such context.

For many it’s the appreciation of art. Whether expressing it by becoming a tattoo artist or wanting to capture the beauty by etching it onto their skin like they are its own personal canvas.

Tattoos come in many different forms. There’s the traditional/old school style that is very recognizable with its bold black lines outlining bright colors. People in their old age, having grown up in the 60s and 70s, are the ones usually seen with these types of tattoos. Neo-traditional is not that far off from traditional, just the lines are not as bold. Delicateness is seen with fine line tattoos. In recent years it’s become popular amongst the younger generation—not just because they are pretty to look at but if one has a job that’s strict on policy then they can hide them better.

The oldest style would be the tribal tattoos. Beautiful elaborate patterns in various sizes, they represent the culture one comes from. Like fine line, watercolor tattoos have become a popular style—taking away the traditional black ink used as an outline so the colors have the spotlight. No color in a piece is blackwork and then there’s realism where it’s pretty much a picture that was printed onto the skin. Go on Pinterest and you’ll find multiple images of patchwork style where a collection of pieces put together can be any style already mentioned.

Japanese style, patch, geometric, black & gray, anime, portrait, the list goes on and on. So many ways to put a design on one’s body where it will remain until they go to the next life. Some people stick to pieces that represent sentimental value, like family or childhood nostalgia, others will simply see something they like and go, “I think it looks cool.”

When looking at Y/n’s tattoos, both aspects were seen in the array of artwork coating her body. After getting all the pieces that represented a person, place, or thing that impacted her life, Y/n started to get whatever the hell she wanted—not having an explanation for anything other than, “it looked badass so I got it. No value behind it, I just wanted it.”

Like many newly turned teenagers itching to get their first tattoo, Y/n was bold and got an intricate design on one of the most painful spots. Her reasoning was if she did it, then any other place in the future wouldn’t be as bad. All through college whenever asked what she wanted for her birthday or holidays the answer was always money to get a tattoo. An artist herself, she majored in drawing while attending Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, New York, also taking on an apprenticeship for a local tattoo artist. There she would get to work on her skills and tattoo people, progressing to doing tattoos on her legs and non-dominant arm. Anytime she traveled to a different state or country during the semester she studied abroad, Y/n got a new tattoo, wanting to have an array of styles from different artists on her body.

By the time she was 26, she had accumulated over 50 tattoos and still had room for more. From her neck down, artwork ranging from fine line to bold and traditional decorated her skin. Both her arms were half sleeves, ending just above her elbows with patchwork along her forearms and hands. The only place free of ink on Y/n was her face, though she did have her inner lip tattooed. If you asked her, it’d be the only place she regretted getting ink because it faded so quickly. But then again, she could get it redone if she really wanted to.

There were looks from people anytime she went out. Y/n loved dressing up in little black dresses and two piece sets to unapologetically show off her tattoos. Older, conservative couples or people who thought tattoos looked trashy on women would look down upon her. Getting hit on was normal, though she never gave the time of day and sending one look that read, ‘get lost’ had men scurry. Sometimes she'd be approached by teenagers asking about certain pieces, saying they wanted to get tattoos once they were of age and were looking for advice. Biker bars were a place she felt comfortable in, Y/n even taking a part-time job as a bartender so make some extra cash. People from all ages—well at least 21–were covered in tattoos like her.

In 2014, shortly after her 25th birthday, Y/n noticed an inbox notification in her instagram. She was used to getting messages on occasion. Being featured on the bar’s and tattoo parlors business instagram pages and accumulating her own following of potential clients had Y/n reach up to 80 thousand followers. The tattoo artist she worked for was very popular, having done work for celebrities and being featured in Inked Magazine.

Speaking of Inked Magazine…..

When Y/n clicked on the icon to open the message, the first thing she spotted was the blue checkmark. Then beside it was in bold lettering inkedmag. Coffee nearly spilled onto the floor when her grip faltered, gasping lightly at the name. She didn’t even realize the page was following her, confirming this by searching herself under their following and found her username staring back at her.

Heart pumping, Y/n opened the message. “Hi, Y/n, my name is Manda Williams and I’m a representative at Inked Magazine. We’re a fan of your profile and would love to work with you on our upcoming campaign. Would you be interested? Please email me at [email protected], I look forward to talking with you soon.”

Never did she think she’d become a model, let alone a tattoo model. She was taller than the average woman, standing at about 5’10 and strikingly beautiful. On countless occasions family members would say, “if you didn't have all that on you maybe you’d been discovered. You’ve got the height, the style, and high fashion look. Plus you’ll never get a well paying job with all those tattoos.” All they were met with was a roll of the eyes from the woman, annoyed with the constant nagging.

“I’m an artist,” she would defend. “I got accepted into one of the most prestigious art schools in the country and I work for a very renowned tattoo artist who has had Snoop Dogg, Angelina Jolie, and Lady Gaga as clients. Not to mention I work at a biker bar where the people there love me. Want me to go further?” the look on their face would read they didn’t but Y/n would put the nail in the coffin with, “Let me point out the fact I get paid more with both those jobs combined than you working a nine to five in your little office job. Also you should educate yourself. Tattoo models do exist.”

If only those family members could see her now. Posing on a motorcycle in nothing but a bra and booty shorts as the camera flashed in front of her.

“You’re a natural, Y/n,” the photographer complimented, making her flustered.

She adjusted her position, running a hand through her hair, “If you think so I trust your judgment.” Being in a studio felt very different than when she would set up her phone on a tripod in her apartment. It took many tries for her to capture the perfect angle, often deleting fifteen out of sixteen photos. Here with this guy calling out movements, “a little to the left,” “bring your hand up—just under your chin, perfect,” “Now act like you’re suntanning on the beach—tilt your head back as though the sun is in your face,” Y/n felt what it was like to be a model.

Not many tattooed individuals got the chance to sign with top agencies like Ford and IMG. Very few were recruited so it came as a big surprise when an agent from IMG Models contacted her following the release of Inked Magazine’s issue. When she took the job she thought it would be a small section in the magazine itself. Instead, she was on the cover.

“You don’t have an agent?” Bonnie’s tone was confused, staring back at Y/n from behind her desk as they sat in her office at the IMG headquarters. Bonnie had seen her cover on Inked, immediately going to Y/n’s instagram where she contacted her though the email listed on the tattoo parlors page. From there she asked the artist to bring a portfolio, which she was shocked to find out wasn’t much. “That was your first model job?”

Y/n shrugged, making a face like it was obvious, “Unless you count the dozens of comments I get on instagram beggin for my next post, yeah it was. I’m a bartender and tattoo artist, modeling wasn’t something I thought was in the cards.” She refrained from adding, “also didn’t think IMG scouted people like me.”

It was safe to say Y/n was unlike the typical runway model. Every now and then a high fashion show would hire a man with tattoos to walk for them. Very rare would you see a woman on the runway. For Y/n, that seemed to be the case in the beginning of her career. She did walk in the Marco Marco show that year which was the highlight of her life. Inked Magazine got so much response on her first feature that they made her their staple girl. Y/n worked with them the most on campaigns and even got to do a cover shoot with celebrities like Travis Barker and Kehlani. Those features got her a lot of recognition to the point she hit one million followers on instagram.

It wasn’t until Y/n went viral on the internet for her Sports Illustrated cover and becoming the first inked model to be featured in a Victoria Secret campaign that the top designers were booking her. Before long she was auditioning for brands during fashion week, securing Tom Ford, Calvin Klein, and Oscar de la Renta. Due to her tattoos being the star of the show, there were hardly any clothes on her save for tiny tops and skirts or dresses with intricate cutouts. She didn’t mind of course. After all, her tattoos were a part of her and the reason she was getting the opportunities of a lifetime.

Milan, Paris, London, New York. Fashion week was gonna have to get used to a new face in town.

Vogue, GQ, Vanity Fair, Inked. Pick up an issue and you’d find Y/n on at least one page, if not the cover.

Every now and then she’d get asked to appear in music videos for bands. The Weekend once asked her to be the cover art for one of his singles, bringing her more attention as "The Inked Beauty from Blinding Lights cover art.”

She appeared on the Inked Magazine YouTube channel several times. The most popular video being when she did a Q&A released shortly after walking in the last ever Victoria Secret Fashion Show in 2018, becoming the first inked model to walk the VS runway. Though it had low ratings, Y/n’s bit was plastered on every social media site, many tweeting: “the best thing VS could’ve done for their final show was put Y/n L/n in it. She carried the damn thing.”

“Hello, I’m Y/n L/n,” she smiled shyly at the camera, her agent Bonnie and publicist giving a thumbs up. “I’m a tattoo and high fashion model from New York City. You may recognize me from the cover of Inked Magazine, or discovered me through some of my other projects over the last couple years—hell maybe I even tattooed you at one point,” chuckling as she feels her nerves slowly evaporate. “Today I’m here with Inked Magazine, the owners of my heart and career, and I'm gonna answer some questions sent in by you guys about my tattoos and career.”

The producer gives a nod, “Ready, Y/n.”

“Let me hear them, sonny boy.”

“What was your first tattoo and at what age did you get it?”

Thankfully she was wearing a tube top beneath her jacket, removing the clothing to reveal the many inked designs on her chest, and stomach. Pointing to the one just below her ribs, Y/n says, “So this was my first one—as you can tell by how faded it is compared to the others. I got it when I was eighteenth birthday, literally wasted no time and my family is actually who inspired it.”

“As of right now, how many tattoos do you have?” The question has Y/n think for a moment, tilting her head back slightly.

“I counted just the other week and I think it was close to…. seventy,” nodding she adds, “yeah I think that’s right. I know I had fifty when Inked contacted me four years ago for my first feature. So I’ve added twenty to the collection since.” She made a mental note to count again when she got home that night.

“Do you have any tattoo regrets?”

A nervous chuckle escaped, “Fuck, uh….yes,” she looks down shamefully, but gives a shrug like, ‘I can explain.’ Lifting her head back up, Y/n takes her two index fingers and gently pulls down her bottom lip to reveal the messy smudged ink that once read, ‘baby girl’. The camera zoomed in and once they got a good shot of it Y/n let her lip fall back into place, “I don’t know if you were able to read that but when it was freshly done eight years ago it said,” she pulled a face showing she was too embarrassed to say it. “It said ‘baby girl.’ I got it when I was twenty on a dare and frankly I thought it would be hot, but it faded so quick—which,” she raised a finger, “that’s the one place I would say don’t get a tattoo. Even though it’s technically temporary…you’ll end up with a blob of ink like mine and it’s not cute.”

“Where were the most painful spots you got tattooed?” Immediately she lifted her arms to show she had ink on her armpits.

“These basterds right here,” the producer and crew laughed, nodding along with her. “You feel me? Yeah, I thought the ones on my stomach and ribs were bad. Those were a tickle compared to my armpits—-oh and my elbows. I think I actually broke a sweat when I got those done. It’s why I have yet to conquer my knees,” patting the covered area, Y/n shakes her head, “I don’t know If i can do it. But funny enough, these tiny little hearts on my palms,” Y/n flashed her palms up, the camera focusing on the two red lined hearts in the middle of each hand. “These hurt so bad. Thankfully I’m not putting anything else here because I strictly wanted the hearts, so I’m sparing myself.”

“What do they mean?” The producer asked, taking a pause from reading out the next question. The little smile Y/n gave was shy.

“I was told a lot growing up that I keep my heart in the palm of my hand,” while she explained Y/n kept glancing at the hearts, “kinda like the saying, ‘wearing your heart on your sleeve,’ but with me it’s literally in the palm of my hand. So I got these little hearts on my palms—that way when I hold someone’s hand, they can feel the love and care I have for them,” sending a wink to the camera she finishes with, “because my heart is in my palm.”

“Have you ever dated anyone with more tattoos than you?”

“Noooo,” she snorts. “Not because I’m not open to it—I’m very attracted to people with tattoos. And I have dated people with a lot…it just seems that anytime I do get into a serious relationship, I’m the one who has more than the other. And if you’re thinking about who I think you are—,” Y/n points directly to the camera, like a mother scolding her child, “the answer is no, he did not have more than me. Louis has thirty-three, I believe, since the last time he and I talked—which was,” she pauses to think, “I think around New Year’s.”

“Do you find yourself enjoying campaign shoots or runway shows more?”

“That’s hard,” Y/n pouts, causing her agent to chuckle since she knew the answer first hand. “Both are fun in their own way. I love being able to come into a studio or go out on sight and do a photo shoot—except in the fucking winter because I’m usually half naked freezing my ass off.” She pauses to laugh with the crew before continuing. “And then there's this feeling of ‘wow, that just happened,’ when I step off the runway. Getting to work with designers I’ve idolized since childhood and being the face of Mugler is a dream come true. If I had to choose…..it would be campaigns and photo shoots. There I can express myself more freely.”

“Do you see yourself still modeling in ten to twenty years time?”

There was a question she had to think about, taking a moment before answering. “I sure hope so. I love my job and definitely see myself continuing in the future. As long as my agent Bonnie and Inked don't get tired of me,” she laughs, winking at the woman who blows her a kiss. “But honestly I have experience as a tattoo artist so I could see myself opening my own parlor. I’d love to start my own blog or get other tattoo models into the industry. There’s a lot to think about what the future holds, but for right now I’m gonna have fun in the present.”

While home in New York when not booked, Y/n continued to work part-time at the tattoo parlor. She left the bar shortly after signing with IMG, but still visited whenever she could. There was even a picture of one of her Inked shoots framed above the bar.

With her new found fame the parlor had little to no openings each month. Regulars and new clients had to call in to reserve an appointment the second the schedule was dropped, which was sometimes weeks in advance. Several of the friends Y/n made in the modeling industry would get tattoos from her, though they always tended to go for the fine line style. More celebrities booked with her boss, adding Cardi B, Rihanna, and Louis Tomlinson to the list. The latter whom, as mentioned, Y/n actually got romantically linked to in mid 2017. It only lasted a few months, but the photo of the two on the Inked instagram was the most liked on their page.

Louis wasn’t the only high profiled person Y/n was involved with. Unfortunately the downside to fame meant her personal life was to be blasted on every inch of the internet. From starting her modeling career in 2014 to spring of 2019, she’d been spotted with actors Michael B. Jordan, Tom Felton, and fellow model Vladimir Ivanov. Like Louis, they only lasted a couple weeks to months—save for Vladimir which lasted almost over a year—and ended on good terms where they remained friends.

Frankly when it came to settling down Y/n hoped to find someone who was sweet and down to earth. Who was a hard worker—passionate about what they did for a living and wanting to share that with her. Someone who could make her laugh and feel like she was the only girl in the world. It was hard finding someone like when the spotlight follows you around. Y/n had been in the public eye going on six years and due to her connections with big named people she never seemed to catch a break when it came to romance.

All those qualities she desired in a life partner came to her in the form of the adorable weapons system officer she met at a party in November of 2019. The poor guy felt so out of place. From behind the bar Y/n could see him at the corner glancing around like he was searching for someone. Only getting a glimpse at the side of his face, she didn’t recognize him. The party had many from the fashion industry to celebrate Anna Wintour’s 70th birthday. What was ironic was Y/n took up the task of working the bar, kicking into her skills from when she was a bartender at a popular biker club in Manhattan. With her view she was able to see the entire floor as people entered.

The man she’d been eyeing must’ve come in when she was busy making the Hadid sisters their drinks. He wore a white dress shirt with some slacks and a matching blazer. His glasses reminded her of the popular style from the 80s. Come to think of it, they were probably the aviator style. He was tall, roughly six foot so she’d be eye level with him considering she was wearing two inch kitten heels.

Seeing his flustered demeanor and the fact he looked like he didn’t know what the hell he was doing there—not to mention he was handsome from what she could see, Y/n waltzed over, “May I get you anything?”

When he spun around she was met with the most gorgeous pair of blue eyes staring back at her. They blinked rapidly, like they were trying to decipher if she was in fact real. Then they snapped straight to her neck, following the ink of the exposed skin on display from her red latex mini dress—which his face mirrored the color of since he was making it quite known he was checking her out. He had a baby face to him, which was kinda adorable, and Y/n assumed he was maybe a year or two younger than her.

Offering a smile Y/n said, “So what will it be?”

“Huh?” He said confused before remembering what she initially asked before he got distracted. “Oh uh, just water please.” Still smiling, Y/n took a clean empty glass and filled it with ice before adding the water. Finishing it with a straw she placed it on a napkin in front of him.

“Will that be all?”

“Yes. Thank you,” he took the glass, glancing around briefly before letting his shoulders drop.

“You seem a bit out of place,” Y/n wiped down the countertop, catching his attention again. The man nervously laughed, adjusting his glasses.

“Is it that obvious?”

“A bit,” she teased, nodding her head to the crowd in front of them. “All these people walk around like they own the place. You’re the first person I’ve seen tonight who doesn’t seem to know what he’s doing. Are you here with someone?” Part of her was hoping he’d say a friend invited him, feeling a sudden rush of butterflies at the way he looked at her—like he couldn’t believe she was real.

“My sister dragged me along,” he confirms, the model mentally sighing in relief. But she couldn’t get her hopes too high. For all she knew he may have a partner back home. “I was visiting her this past week and she begged me to come. I told her it was a bad idea since I’m not….part of this crowd.”

“Ah,” she hums, biting back a grin at the way he described the industry. “Not a model or influencer, I take it?”

“Nooooo,” his laugh filled her stomach with butterflies. “Not at all. I don’t know how to work social media. Are you?”

Y/n refilled a guest's drink and handed over a beer to another, “I dabble here and there,” it was refreshing to meet someone who wasn’t familiar with her work. Usually at events like the one they were at she had people coming up to her already knowing who she was. “You’re probably like, ‘thought she was just a bartender,’” she giggled at the flustered look taking over him. “I was one before being discovered. I’m doing this for fun honestly—-and because Anna likes what I make her.”

His eyes went to her neck and collarbones, lingering on the ink. She assumed he’d never seen a model with so many tattoos before. “You can look,” she smirked, when he glanced away from being caught staring. “You’re only seeing a small portion of the canvas,” his eyes went wide at her words, making her giggle, “these babies are the reason I’m in this business.”

“You're a tattoo model?”

Y/n raises a brow at the surprise in his tone, “Didn’t know they existed, handsome?”

“No-no,” he quickly apologizes, “sorry I meant no offense. I knew there were models with a lot of tattoos. My sister told me that the industry was starting to expand by signing more people with them.” His words have Y/n intrigued. Obviously his sister was someone in the business, she wondered if she knew her.

“Is your sister one?”

“No, she’s an agent,” Y/n stops what she’s doing, towel long forgotten.

“For a modeling agency?”

“Yeah.”

“Which one?” Just as the question left her lips, Bonnie’s voice interrupted the two, “Bob, there you are! Oh good—,” she grins wide when she sees who he’s talking to, “You guys met!”

Snapping their heads toward each other, the two have the same expressions of, “wait what?”

Bonnie claps her hands, coming beside Bob at the bar and motioning between the two, “Y/n, this is my brother, Robert—the one I was telling you about last week,” mouth slightly agape, remembering the conversations the two had about Bonnie’s brother—in which the agent suggested setting up a date between the two—Y/n watches Bob react the same when Bonnie then says, “Bob, this is Y/n L/n. One of my clients at IMG—I know I’ve mentioned her before to you.”

Not knowing what to do at first, Y/n extends her hand to formally introduce herself, “So you must be the famous, Bob,” butterflies swarm her stomach again by the warmth of Bob’s hand when he goes to shake it. “I’m Y/n. So nice to finally meet you—Bonnie’s told me a lot about you.”

“W-wow,” Bob stutters, mentally hating himself when he does. “It’s really nice to meet you too, ma’am. I wasn’t expecting to meet you tonight, but now I see why Bonnie was so adamant I come.” A pointed look is thrown at Bonnie, who shrugs with a smile like she did no wrong.

“Well seeing as you two found each other without me, I’ll leave you both to it. Bob, let me know if you plan on riding with me back to the house or if you catch a ride. And Y/n I’ll see you bright and early Monday morning.” Winking, Bonnie takes the Cosmopolitan Y/n made for her and scurries off, leaving the two alone.

“I should’ve known,” Y/n laughs lightly, topping off Bob’s water. “Your sister has brought you up the past couple times she and I have gotten together,” lips curl into a smirk, “she wasn’t lying when she said you were a cutie.”

Bob turns red, smiling shyly, “when she told me about the inked beauty she worked with, she left out the fact you’re a walking piece of art.” His boldness impressed her, Y/n leaning closer to him against the bar top, resting her elbow on to so she could lean her head on her hand.

“How long are you gonna be in New York?”

“Till Wednesday,” part of her was disappointed that it was only four days away considering it was currently Saturday. But it was enough time for something to blossom.

“Tell me about yourself, Bob. The night’s early and I could listen to you talk for hours. Let’s see if Bonnie was psychic when she said we’d be quite the puzzle when put together.”

Ever heard of the type of couples where the girl radiates black cat energy and the guy is a literal golden retriever?

That was Y/n and Bob to a tee.

Out in public they stood out—even in a city like New York. Then when Y/n went to San Diego to meet his friends for the first time after four months together—which also resulted in her being stuck in California due to lockdown from the covid pandemic—it was like everyone couldn’t believe someone like Bob was with someone like Y/n.

He was a quiet, reserved naval officer and she was a sharp-tongued, world renowned tattoo model. They were the definition of the couple in high school you’d never expect would hit it off.

When Bob introduced Y/n to the squad, they instantly knew who she was, but had different ways of discovering her. Nat saw her walk in the VS Fashion show, Mickey and Reuben recognized her from The Weekend’s cover art, Javy remembered her from an episode of Ink Master she appeared on, Jake saw her on the cover of Sports Illustrated, and Bradley actually got a tattoo from Y/n when he was in NYC.

The entire period Y/n was in San Diego she grew close to the squad, even Maverick who had a lot of questions about her work and tattoos. “You think I’d look good with them at my age?” Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at the question, ensuring the Captain with a pat on the back.

“Some of the sexiest men I’ve met have been your age with ink more in than me,” she giggles when he goes red. “I worked at a biker bar in New York City. Believe me, Pete. Anyone can look good with some ink.”

Needless to say when it came time for Mav to get a tattoo, Y/n was the one doing it.

A lot of the squad ended up getting work done by her. Jake, Mickey and Rooster had a few already so they were familiar with the process. Nat only had one from a drunk night in college, which Y/n redid on her behalf since it had faded. Payback was a man who liked bold, meaningful tattoos so sometimes Y/n had her work cut out for her but she always came through.

“Yo is this gonna hurt bad,” Javy was practically sweating as Y/n removed the stencil from his shoulder. The design was a geometric sun about the size of an airpod case.

“It’ll sting, but this area generally isn’t too painful. If this was your bicep then it’d be a different story.”

Javy didn’t look convinced, turning to look at the guys while the stencil dried, “How was it for you guys?”

“Didn’t hurt at all for me,” Rooster shrugged, “my bicep was worse—like she said.”

“Yeah, you’ll be fine,” Payback waved a hand. “You see how tiny it is? It’ll be over before you know it.”

Going over the details once more to confirm the colors and shading, Y/n moved her chair closer after turning on the tv to an episode of Chopped. “You ready, Jav?”

“Ready,” he didn’t really sound like it but it was too late to back out. The buzz of the needle filled his ears and soon the stinging sensation they all said had him clutching his first.

“Try to relax, man” Bob sat on the chair next to Y/n, “being tense won’t help.”

After over a year of dating Bob had his fair share of tattoos. His were mostly small and easily hidden by his uniform. When they first got together, Bob loved learning about her tattoos. When she got them, why she did. If there were any meaning behind certain ones and if she planned to get more.

She was like a walking art gallery. So many colors and styles. Large and small. Y/n told him stories about almost every one—even if they were embarrassing like the inner lip tattoo.

“Biggest mistake,” she wiped a tear after she was done, the two laughing so hard. “Not only did it hurt but it faded not even a year after I got it. Now it looks so bad—I should get it redone but what’s the point when it will just end up looking the same.”

Bob hated when people would give her looks of disproval when they’d go out, usually from those who were unfamiliar with Y/n’s work. One time he nearly got into a bar fight with a older gentleman who thought it was okay to call Y/n a Jezebel. Rooster and Mickey had to hold him back, but Y/n simply looked at the guy and said, “Baby, I’m a fucking millionaire because of these bad boys. While you’re about to kick it the dust I’m gonna be on the cover of Vogue magazine next month. So eat shit and die already.” The man was left speechless, making her and the squad smirk in victory. The equally tatted bartender who knew of Y/n whistling and even given her a free round.

“That was so fucking hot,” Bob pulled her into a searing kiss when they left the bar moments later, Y/n smirking against his lips, “You think that was hot? I’m a mess under these pants from seeing you so worked up, baby. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

Whenever he and Y/n would cuddle she’d trace the raised ink with a finger, Bob doing the same to hers and committing them to memory. He loved to kiss the ones on her neck and collarbones, but his favorite were the tiny hearts on the palms of her hands.

“What do these mean,” he asked one day during the early days of their relationship. They were laying out on the hammock, taking her hands to admire the collection of small tattoos along her fingers and wrists. He hadn't even realized she had any on the palms until he flipped them over. There his thumbs traced over the red outline of each heart.

“If you ask any person I’ve ever loved or cared for they’d tell you I carry my heart in the palm of my hand,” she flips her hands so they are holding Bob’s, the tattoos against his skin. “So when I hold people’s hands, they know a piece of my heart lies with them.” Letting her head fall back against his shoulder, Y/n shifts so her lips are against his jaw. “And I’m kinda hoping you’re the only one who gets to hold them from here on out.”

Anytime after that Bob would press a kiss to the hearts whenever he held her hands. Then when asked about what tattoo of Y/n’s was his favorite his answer was always, “the hearts.”

His family adored her. At first they were put off by her striking image but learned quickly Y/n was perfect for Bob. The children of his siblings loved taking washable markers to color in the tattoos Y/n had that were black and white. “Can I draw you a tattoo someday?” Little Emma asked shortly after the couple celebrated one year. She was a little artist who loved asking questions about the pretty pictures on Y/n.

“Of course, my love,” she promised. “Draw me whatever you desire and I shall get it done.”

The first fashion show Y/n booked after the pandemic Bob had front row seats. With his phone out he was the ultimate cheerleader, though he refrained from whistling or making noise so as to not embarrass the model, but would be in absolute awe when she strutted past him. It was the Tom Ford show, Y/n had walked out in a long black trench coat, coming to the end of the runway first before removing the item to reveal a silk dress underneath. It was spaghetti strapped with an open back, thigh slit to compliment her legs and the cameras loved it. She walked a few steps back up and turned to strike one last pose before making her exit.

Bob was mesmerized. It was the first time he’d seen her walk the runway and my God if he wasn’t already a simp he sure was then. A photographer captured his reaction to her discarding the coat and it went viral on Twitter.

@ inmyreputationera: if my man doesn’t look at me like @inkedbyY/n bf at NYFW then I don’t want it.

@ Inked✔️: We’re all Bob Floyd when @inkedbyY/n steps onto the runway.

When it came time to pick out her wedding dress Y/n was unsure of the route to go. It’d been five years the two were coming up on, one year of being engaged with the wedding to take place in North Island. A beach wedding in the late fall, Y/n wanted to look elegant and classy.

“Whatever you choose you’ll gonna look amazing, darling,” Bob kissed her head after she sighed when shuffling through bridal magazine pictures of dresses she’d cut out. “You know I love your tattoos—they are a part of you and I don’t want you feeling like you have to cover up for the sake of pictures. Baby, you’re one of the top models in the world. Like you told me when we first met, those babies are what got you discovered. Show them off.” Rubbing her shoulder exposed from her tank top, his lips pressed to the ink covering the skin. “But if you like this,” he pointed to the dress she kept going back to in her pile, it was elegant and pretty with neckline that fell just below her collarbones. “Then you should get it because you love it.”

The ceremony dress ended up being the one with a high neckline. It had open back with Y/n deciding on a her veil cascading down to the floor to become a small train rather than having the dress itself have it. Lace covered her arms, the ink peeking out from beneath to make the material stand out more due to the contrast.

She was stunning. An actual goddess that had Bob’s jaw drop the second his eyes landed on her. For the reception Y/n changed into a white two piece set that showed off her legs.

And you best believe she hired local tattoo artists to do a ‘spur of the moment’ tattoo booth at the party.

It didn’t take long for Inked Magazine to want to do a bridal shoot with Y/n. And if you look at it one way, it was a full circle moment. The issue marked ten years since they discovered Y/n and blessed her with the career of a lifetime that led her to meeting the love of her life.

All because she had a knack for getting ink.

……………..

TGM tag list: @avaleineandafryingpan @caitsymichelle13 @poppyalice2001 @cutelittlepotatofry @luckyladycreator2 @americaarse @elenavampire21 @back-tooo-black @wildellaa

#Spotify #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd fanfiction #robert floyd imagine #robert floyd x reader #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x y/n #robert floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd fluff #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun maverick imagine #top gun maverick #lewis pullman imagine #lewis pullman #tattoo!reader #tgm fluff #tgm imagine

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saetoru · 2 years

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MESSY — DILUC RAGNVINDR.

「 SYNOPSIS 」 ⋮ diluc + cum eating - diluc can’t fight his urges to let things get messy with you

♱ kinktober ⋮ find the masterlist here !!

♱ pairing ⋮ diluc ragnvindr x reader

♱ length ⋮ 1.1k words

♱ contents ⋮ nsfw and 18+ content, fem! reader, blow jobs, cum eating, mentions of male masturbation, slight throat fucking

♱ notes ⋮ HE IS ALL MY MIND CONSISTS OF ATM ty bby gray @asunnygray for this brainrot ily <3

diluc is a respectful man—he’s polite and proper, however stiff as he might seem. he holds doors open for people in the distance and he offers a polite nod to every greeting he gets as he walks through mondstadt, and maybe that’s why he’s as hesitant as he is to let himself think of you so lewdly.

but it’s rather difficult not to right now—now that you’re in between his legs, his thick, hard cock sprung free and weeping from the tip with pre cum that you swipe away with your tongue. he hisses, fists the bed sheets under his hands until his knuckles are white, watches with wide eyes as you kiss the head of his length so sweetly. your hand wraps around the fat tip, smearing the pre cum that leaks from his slit along the rest of his length as you stroke him slowly. he’s perfect—big enough that the thick girth makes your hand look smaller than it really is, and the flush of his reddened tip makes your eyes haze with lust.

“so pretty,” you hum, giggling at the way blush dusts over his cheeks almost instantly, eyes not leaving his face as it breaks with pleasure when you wrap your lips around his girth. you moan around him at the taste of him on your tongue, the vibrations making him let out a surprised grunt as his head falls back with a low groan.

“f-fuck,” he curses—he never likes using such colorful language in general, and especially not around you. but the words fall off his lips before he can help it, the way your tongue glides along his vein and swirls around his tip too dizzying to keep up any semblance of composure.

to his credit, diluc tries—he really does. he tries not to think about you when he wakes up to the stiff morning wood aching between his legs, he tries not to imagine this exact image of you kneeling before him with his cock on your tongue, and he tries not to imagine how fucking into your throat would feel instead of his fist. diluc is a respectful man—but sometimes, he can’t help himself when his mind wanders to you as he strokes himself while the sun rises, when sweat clings to his forehead and soft whines tumble past his parted lips, when your name is uttered brokenly between hitched breaths and chokes groans, when his back arches off the mattress and his balls tighten with every thick rope of cum.

no matter how hard he fights his own mind, it’s a losing battle, and he can’t quite stop himself from thinking of you.

“just like that,” he can’t help but moan softly, hips bucking up into your mouth, panting harshly as you glide your tongue along his slit. he’s hot and heavy in your mouth, cock throbbing to release down your throat as you take him so well. “f-fuck, feels good…so good,” he pants.

you swallow around him, look up at him with teary eyes and swollen lips just like in his fantasies, bobbing your head in a sloppy rhythm as you take him as far as you can, hand pumping the rest of what you can’t fit. your hands move down to gently squeeze at his balls, pulling a low groan from him as his eyes flutter shut and his hand falls to the top of your head.

“c-close, so close, love,” he says desperately, hips fucking up into your mouth, all self control behind him as he chases his orgasm. it’s lewd, the sound of his cock burying into your mouth, his low grunts of pleasure and your choked moans around his length, the messy smear of spit and pre cum dribbling past your lips and down your chin. it’s so incredibly dirty, but diluc can’t help but like it—love it even.

the way you let him fuck your throat feels far better than his fist, and the sight of you in front of him is not done even an ounce of justice in his imagination—he doesn’t think he’ll be able to let this time be the last time, no matter how hard he fights the urge.

“cum for me, ‘luc,” you urge, “wanna taste you,” your words are just as filthy as your actions, and with a few more swallows around his aching length, he feels the coil in his belly snap, voice cracking as he cries out your name with a loud groan.

“cumming…i-i’m…fuck, ‘m cumming,” he mumbles through breathy pants, “good, feels so good—m-make me feel so good,” he babbles, and ever the gentleman, he tries to pull you off of him, tries to angle his hips so his release doesn’t soil you with the mess. but you’re determined—you grab him and pump his length, stroking him quick with a steady rhythm as you guide him through his high.

his face breaks—sweat collecting on his forehead, strands of stray hair clinging to the damp skin as his eyes flutter shut and his mouth parts with strangled cries as the pleasure crashes over him in waves. you stroke him through his orgasm, feeling his cock twitch with every hot rope of cum that paints across your face, coating your cheeks, your lips, dripping down to roll along the skin of your tits. it’s downright vulgar, and he doesn’t even get a proper chance to feel guilty when you press another kiss to the head of his cock, wrapping your lips around him once more and sucking off the small bead of cum left at the tip.

“‘luc you’re so pretty when you cum,” you pout, a string of saliva connecting between your lip and his member as you pull away. you trail a finger along the vein under his length, making him gasp softly as his hips buck under the sensitivity, collecting the smeared cum that coats him. you bring your finger to your mouth, licking and sucking on the digit, making his cock twitch back to life at the sight as he groans. “want more, wanna see you do it again. please?”

this was never in his fantasies—this was never what he imagined. this is so much more than what he could hope for, and with blush-dusted cheeks and a stiff and painful erection between his legs again, he pulls you from your knees to climb onto his lap, hands finding your hips with a tight, desperate grip.

“it’s only fair i get to witness the same from you,” he mumbles against your mouth as he pulls you into a sloppy kiss, tasting himself on your tongue, “wouldn’t you agree?”

#[ tee’s kinktober 22 👻 ]#teepods.writings #thirstee!#thirsts.#diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin smut #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc ragnivindr x you #diluc ragnivindr smut #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact smut

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charliehoennam · 4 months

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angel.

Pairing: Louis Bloom (nightcrawler) x F!reader A/N: i blame jake for this. lou bloom is a fucking psycho, stay away from people like him. this is purely fictional, people. this was named out of inspiration from angel by massive attack, so kudos to them as well.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, NON-CON drug use and NON-CON intercourse, unprotected sex (wrap ur willies, kiddies), crime, language, somnophilia. (consent is EVERYTHING, yall. again, this is fictional)

Word count: 5,900+ ( i think this might be the most i've ever written)

SHARING IS CARING, SO PLEASE REBLOG

It’s early morning as you’re carrying a box into your newly rented apartment.

Louis is stunned when his eyes land on you, forgetting about the water he’d been using to hydrate his plant until it drips onto his foot and snaps him back to reality.

“Ah, shit” he hissed, quickly lifting the glass up.

Turning his attention back to the window, he watches as you enter the living room. It’d been empty for a long time; he was curious as to who would move in there. All the apartments were pretty much the same. What made this apartment so special was that it was directly across from his. With uncurtained windows, he could look right inside from his.

Hypnotized by you, he’s frozen in place. The feeling is all too foreign for him.

Louis isn’t exactly a social butterfly. In fact, he always found easier to avoid people as much as humanly possible. Not out of fear, but out of disdain. At the height of his career with Video Production News taking off, he strongly believes he’s learned to manipulate normal human emotions which he’s almost never felt.

There’s just something about you that brings out some of those unfamiliar feelings in him and floods him with desire. Attraction surely has a hand in it. No one could deny your beauty, and your body makes only more difficult for him to ignore you.

Infatuated by you, he watches you attentively from the corner of his window. He can’t let you see him. He can’t let you catching him staring at your ass curve as you bend down to pick up a box outside. The leggings you wear provoke him further, outlining your panty on the back and mound in the front.

He doesn’t even know your name yet, but you already have his imagination going wild. It’s almost like you’re calling for him.

With his blood flowing straight down to his cock, he zones out daydreaming about what you’d look like on all fours, bent down with your face buried in his sheets. He thinks about how round your ass would look perched in the air for his gaze; how inviting your pussy would look from behind; how soft your skin must feel despite the goosebumps he’d make you feel.

Such a pretty little thing for him to violate.

His hand seems to have a life of its own as it reaches his crotch, palming his twitching cock over his gray slacks. He knows, right there and then, that he has to have you and his devious mind is already churning with a plan.

He decides to wait until the people helping you - who he assumes are your friend - leave. In the meantime, he times his exit to the precise moment everyone’s in your apartment having pizza to make a quick run to Bob’s Market around the corner.

He needs an excuse to approach you without raising any alarms in your mind. He needs you to feel safe around him; make you think he has only the most genuine interests at heart.

Chocolate chip cookies should do just that. Who doesn’t like chocolate chip cookies?

The warm L.A. sun shines down on him, illuminating his deviant plan. He wonders how he got so lucky to be at the right place, at the right time. He knows he has to do whatever he can to make you his.

No one will love you like he will. No one can take care and protect you the way he can. He would kill for you. How many people could do that without fearing the consequences for you? How many would devote themselves to you and do absolutely anything to keep you, even if he has to harm you?

Entering the store, he wanders around for a minute before opening the refrigerator door and grabbing a package of the ready-to-bake cookie dough. You really should be grateful. You got him baking before he even knows your name.

Fidgeting with his keys in his pockets, he eyes the supply store across the street. A lightbulb lights up in his head with an addition to his plan.

With the cookie dough in a plastic bag, he strolls over to the supply store. The ropes on display make him stop in his wandering stride.

“Not yet,” he tells himself.

Convincing himself to control his impulse, he picks up the silicone putty he came for and purchases it with ease.

“Locked myself out of my car the other day. Gotta make sure to a get copy of it made today, but I also got some errands to run. Life in L.A. never sleeps, does it?”

With his chin tilted down and eyebrows narrowed, his chuckle unsettles the cashier although the poor terrified man nervously smiles back. There is no ignoring the chills Louis gives him.

Unsettling people is in his nature and Louis hasn’t quite learned how to tweak that part of him. He supposes he has to practice his smile a little more in the mirror.

As he arrives back to his building, he overhears one of the guys coming out of the building to collect another box. You’re nowhere in sight thankfully, so he lowers his head and pushes the sunglasses perched on his nose up along its bridge.

Once inside, he heads to the bathroom for a quick piss. As he’s washing his hands, his stoic gaze lifts. He stares at the mirror emotionlessly.

He knows right from wrong. His methods may be questionable, but they’re not done without thought and calculation.

Opening the medicine cabinet, the transparent orange bottle of sleeping pills seems to glow at him. He knows he shouldn’t. It’s morally wrong, but when has moral high ground ever stopped him before?

Tucking the bottle into his pocket, he closes the cabinet before staring at his reflection. He’s determined to do whatever he has to. He needs to have you. This is hopeless love at first sight. Many people wish for love like his.

Once the cookies are baked and cooled off, he’s stood in the kitchen assembling them into the nicest plastic container he owns when he overhears you saying goodbye to your friends down below. He rushes to the window.

If anyone of the people assisting you are in a relationship with you, this would be the time to find out, right? A kiss on the lips or – if the man is anything like the boyfriend you should have – he’d offer to stay and help you unpack. Maybe christen the new home.

Louis doesn’t even realize how he’s holding his breath until it finally fogs the glass when he breathes out. You hug the men one by one. There’s no kiss on the lips. His hopes get higher as he smirks to himself.

Your conversation is distant, but he can hear better after he cracks his window open just a little bit.

“Are you sure you don’t want us to stay and help you unpack?” Matt asks.

He freezes and deception grows in his chest along with a pang of anger.

“Yeah, I’m sure. You guys have done so much already with the packing and carrying all the boxes.”

“We wouldn’t mind staying longer to help you,” Tyler joins in.

“No, really. I’m good,” you chuckle at their insistence. “I got this, guys. Don’t worry.”

“Alright. Just call if you need anything else. And thank you for the pizza and beer,” Matt smiles at you. “And I’m really sorry about all this mess.”

“Will you stop apologizing? I understand entirely. Just make sure you take care of my best friend and her baby and we’re good” you smirk moving to hug Matt after hugging Tyler. Relief washes over Louis. He concludes they’re only friends.

“I’ll see you later then. Take care.”

You nod and wish the same back to Matt. You watch the boys head out towards their car as you stand in the entrance's doorway.

While you begin unpack in the early afternoon, Louis realizes he needs to wait until it’s early evening for his plan to be precisely timed with the darkness of the night.

The cookies are done and now, he has to wait.

The move was smoother than you’d expected.

You had to move out when your roommate Cara told you she’d be needing more room since she found out she and Matt were expecting a child. With him moving in and a baby to prepare for, the apartment would be even more crowded than it was at the time. And you couldn’t agree more.

It was a sudden bomb, sure, but the fact that they knew that and were willing to do whatever they could to help softened the blow a whole lot. Matt even offered to pay for the entire move, but you couldn’t let them do that. Especially with a baby on the way.

Time was all you asked for and they made sure to give you plenty of it. So, instead, he offered to help with the move physically with the assistance of his younger brother Ty.

Once the brothers drove off safely, you walk back to your apartment. Thankfully, there are only two levels to the condo, and your apartment is on the ground level.

You look around your new home as you think about where to start so you decide to set up your sound system to get some music playing. Music always helps to provide a sense of company and pass the time.

You begin with the bedroom since you figure it’ll take most of your time. Besides, it’d be nice to not have to worry about where you’ll sleep when you’re too tired to continue and decide to call it a night.

Afterwards, you move to the kitchen to start organizing everything into its rightful place. You want to make sure you have your flow down. Coffee powder, filters and mugs go above the coffee maker. Plates, bowls and silverware go near the stove. Glasses go next to the fridge. Dish towels go in the drawer by the sink.

With every item neatly and strategically placed, the feeling of independence blossoms. This is your home now. Your haven. The very air you breathe smells of freedom. You can’t help, but smile as you look around and admire the apartment, although you realize it definitely needs more furniture.

Now that you don’t have to consult anyone anymore about placing artwork on the walls or buying an armchair, you can gradually work your way into giving the apartment a more personal touch.

Soon after you set all the pots and pans in a cabinet below the counter, you hear a knock at your door. You frown as you hesitate for a moment, thinking about who it could be.

Maybe it’s Matt and Tyler coming back to pick something they’d forgotten up. It has to be; you told very few people about your move and even fewer knew your new address. You weren’t expecting to have any guests over either.

So, you walk stealthily quiet towards the door to peer through the tiny peephole.

There’s a man standing on the other side of the door. You don’t know him. You’ve never seen him before, but the plastic container in his hands intrigues your curiosity.

“He’s probably just a neighbor”, you reassure yourself.

Louis notices your shadow casting underneath the door from the other side. The simple fact that you’re already acknowledging his existence has his heart thrumming with adrenaline and excitement, which he forces himself to contain.

“She knows me now,” he thinks to himself.

Watching him glance down at the foot of the door, you realize he must already know you’re at the door. He can see you. At this point, it would just be rude to pretend you’re not home, but you’re not sure who he is.

All you can tell is that he seems pretty attractive through the peephole which isn’t really helpful, but it does entice you to open the door.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh, hi. I couldn’t help but notice you just moved in earlier today. My name’s Louis. I’m your neighbor. I live in the next building in apartment 3F.”

He doesn’t sound threatening. His voice is actually softer than his appearance. You can’t quite put your finger on it, but something about him gives you the chills and you can’t figure out what or why.

“I’m not a raging psycho killer if that’s your concern,” he chuckles eerily. “I’ve just lived here for a few years. I always bring cookies to new neighbors,” he lies. “Just a modest way to welcome people, I suppose. The city of Los Angeles is harsh enough. Why must we be the same?” he smiles strangely, making for an awkward moment of silence.

“Would you like me to leave them by the door?” he continues.

It’s like he can almost smell your hesitance through the door.

How does he know?

Not wanting to seem rude on your first day on the block, you unlatch the locks on the door and open it up with a tight-lipped polite smile.

God, you look even prettier up close. It’s hard for him to hide his admiration. You could never tell, but he’s battling the impulse to pin you down and fuck you senseless. You’d look so lovely all tied up for him.

You can’t deny he has some of the most beautiful features you’ve ever seen. His clean-shaven face flaunts a few brown freckles. Faded smile lines curve around his long nose and thin rosy lips, making the latter more inviting they already are. His jaw is prominent from his tall, slim build. Large doe eyes as blue as Neptune are framed by a pair of thick eyebrows that makes his gaze even more intimidating. Dimples depress into his hollowed cheeks as he smiles charmingly at you, revealing his perfectly lined teeth.

“Thanks. That’s very thoughtful of you,” you respond with a soft voice, reaching for the container. “I’d invite you in, but my apartment is a mess right now. I’d rather you see it when it’s less chaotic.”

“Yeah, it’s no problem,” he affirmed with a sinister smile. “Like I said, I just wanted to welcome you to the block. If you need help with anything, I’d be more than pleased to assist you in any way possible.”

He looks very friendly and very well-spoke, but you can’t shake how his vacant his eyes seem to be.

Maybe it’s the slightly greasy medium length brown hair parted to the side and tucked behind his ears. Maybe it’s how he towers over you with hunched shoulders and casually scans the apartment behind you between his words. Maybe it’s the outdated button-down shirt he’d worn that made it seem like an attempt at dressing formal.

You’ve only just met the man, but something about him has your squeezing your thighs together. Someone about him draws you in and turns you on in a way that you simply cannot explain.

“Thank you. I will do that,” you assure him. “Sorry, what’s your apartment again?”

“I live in 3F. It’s located in the neighboring building just across.”

“3F,” you repeat making a mental note of his home number. “Yeah, I’ll stop by if I need anything.”

“Please don’t hesitate. I’m always happy to be of service. I will let you return to your previous engagement, I’m sorry if I’ve interrupted anything.” He knows he hasn’t, but he needs you to believe this wasn’t planned. “I look forward to seeing you around, Y/N. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“Yeah, same to you, Mr. Bloom.”

You hold your hand out to shake his. He almost swoons at your formality. Manners mean everything to him, so he reaches out and shakes your hand with gently firm grip.

The veins on his pale hands have your pussy growing wet at the thought of them inside your cunt. You’re sure he could reach your special spot with such long slender fingers. You wonder how many of them you could fit inside your pussy simultaneously.

“Please, call me Lou,” he grins baring his perfect teeth.

“Lou, then,” you smirk correcting yourself. “I will see you around. Thanks again.”

“Enjoy the cookies.”

He turns around with a smile and calmly walk down the hallways towards the exit. His hand burns with the shadowing touch of your hand lingering on his skin.

You close the door behind and lean against the wood with a curious frown. You had expected him to live on the same floor or at least in the same building.

You shake off the thought as you lock your door and admire the cookies he’d brought on your walk back to the kitchen. It really is a kind gesture, one you thought only happened in movies. And you just happen to love cookies.

The pieces of his plan have all been set and now he can only wait.

To make his time useful, he decides to sit and think about every single process of his plan. He cannot be unprepared. There cannot be any surprises.

He starts with the locks and walks to his door, standing still and hollow as he stares at the rusty and faded golden locks. Assuming all the apartments are the same, he closes his eyes to remember the details of your encounter. He remembers hearing a chain slide open and the mechanical twisting click. They appear to be the same as the locks on his door.

He opens his eyes and studies them carefully, thinking about how to get the chain open believing it to be his only obstacle. The twist lock would be easy. His thieving days have been behind him for a while now – his company is doing great enough; he doesn’t have to steal anymore – but breaking and entering is still second nature to him. Picking a lock is hardly a challenge.

Sitting at his computer, he researches ways to unhook the chain. He quickly finds a quick and simple method that doesn’t involve leaving any evidence behind, so he grabs his tool kit and searches for the only two object he needs.

Once he’s confident enough after a few successful attempts from inside his home, he proceeds to lock his door once more and climbs out an open window. With his apartment at ground level, it allows him to climb out with ease. He leaves it open just in case his practice test turns out unsuccessful.

He walks around to the building’s entrance with the kit, a small roll of duct tape and a rubber band.

After successfully picking his twist lock open from the outside this time, he opens the door to the extent of the chain. His long arm allows him to reach inside. Once the rubber band is hooked through a link of the chain, he tapes the other end of the rubber band to the door. That way, when the door closes, the chain slides to the furthest end with the movement, unlocking itself and falling to the side to hang freely.

A grin creeps onto his lips, stretching grimly as pride fills him. Old habits die hard; he giggles knowing he can still be the sneaky thief when he needs to be.

Meanwhile, you decide to indulge on a short coffee break, so once your coffee is made, you sit on your couch to enjoy the sweet treat your new neighbor was kind enough to gift you with.

If he hadn’t already been infatuated by you before, he is now in love with you. He can’t stop thinking about your sweet nature and manners. His heart races as his mind lingers on your smile and the thought of your voice. He’s eager to learn every single detail about you.

Despite being a workaholic, he decides tonight is a special exception because you’re just special like that.

Back inside his apartment, Louis calls his second-in-command of Video Production News to inform his team he won’t be joining them on the hunt for coverage tonight.

“A more important and rather urgent setback has presented itself and, in order to prevent further undesired and unpredicted hindrances, I have to eliminate them now.”

Having worked closely to Louis, his team knew better than question him. His strict tone while reminding them to be on their best behavior only enforces that he is not to be disappointed.

It isn’t even 9 p.m. but you’re feeling beyond exhausted at this point. The coffee you had a couple hours ago was in vain. It seems to have given you the opposite effect.

You try to persist on unpacking, but your body feels so heavy already. It must be from all the exercise of moving. Lifting heavy boxes, walking up a couple flights of stairs, kneeling and standing. It’s been a very busy day and you’re just tired.

You make your way to the bathroom for a quick shower.

Due to the weight your tired limbs and their dragging, you opt to not wash your hair. It would take too much energy that you simply don’t have. You can barely keep your eyes open as you rinse the lathered soap off your body.

You don’t even bother putting on underwear. Just a t-shirt will have to suffice because that’s all you muster before you collapse on your bed.

Its’ cozy embrace enraptures you into a deep sleep and, within seconds, you’re out cold.

Louis watches you exit the bathroom from his window. His breath hitches when he sees you drop your towel on the floor of your bedroom.

The medicine is kicking in as he predicted.

He smirks to himself, proud of his achievement. Excitement floods through him when he notices you didn’t bother much with clothes. That’ll make his job so much easier.

His true self comes forth, shedding him of his friendly – or his attempt at it - facade.

He ties his hair into a small bun behind his head.

He planned this already to make sure he wouldn’t need much. Just his camcorder, latex gloves, a key mold. This may be the first time, but it certainly will not be the last. The last object he takes along is a pocket knife that he strongly hopes he won’t have to use.

His stride is calm though his heart pounds in his chest. He prays the got dosage just right enough so you don’t wake up.

His eyes scan around as he crosses the small courtyard to your building. No one is outside; no one has seen him.

As he reaches your door again, he slides the gloves onto his hands. It doesn’t take him long to enter your apartment with quiet footsteps after all the practice he’s had.

He’s never felt closer to anyone in his life than right now.

The apartment has you all over it. These are your belongings. In a way, he feels as if he’s penetrating his way into your intimacy. The thought is enticing enough to make his cock harden a little in his pants.

He wanders around your new home with his camcorder already filming, opening boxes and cabinets and drawers as he roams. He needs to record every detail about you. What do you like to eat? What are your movie preferences? What music do you listen to? Do you read? Reading is important to him. It is a sign of intellect.

You don’t seem to have any pets. If you had a dog, it would’ve been aware of his presence already. There aren’t any bowls of food and water set out. Much like him, you seem be a loner.

The apartment is much like his. Small enough for one. No bedroom. Just a kitchen near the entrance with a window at the other end. A small bathroom and closet for your clothes.

He wonders what you usually smell like as he enters the bathroom. He finds your shampoo and condition and raises each to his nose. Then your deodorant. And your perfumes. He closes his eyes, admiring how heavenly you smell.

He makes sure to film the label of your perfume to buy one later and spray it against his pillow so he can sleep with the scent of you every night.

Can’t you see how much he loves you?

As he silently makes his way towards your living room, he gulps with anticipation. His palms grow clammy as he stares at you, asleep in your bed.

Despite his excitement, his hand reminds steady as he focuses the filming on you. For a couple moments, he stands at the foot of your bed just watching you sleep.

You look so pretty. So peaceful.

He would slaughter whoever attempted to disturb you. He knows it’s rather ironic, but he’s so captivated by you.

He can’t stay away. He wishes he could climb into your bed; that he could wrap his arms around you, inhale your scent, touch and kiss you over every inch of your body to worship you as you deserve to be worshipped.

That’ll take time, but he will make it happen somehow.

Eventually snapping out of his daydream, he moves to the dresser and pulls open a couple drawers.

The first has your jewelry and accessories. He studies them to better understand your taste hopefully for future reference. He’s encouraged to take a ring, so he could wear it around and take a part of you with him everywhere he goes.

He finds a small one that is big enough to fit on his picky. It’s nothing too special. Just a thin silver band that you happen to have a few of in different size. It would be easy for you to assume it got lost in the move, if you notice it at all.

The second contains what he is looking for: your panties. His eyes grow darker as he rummages through them, picking the sexiest ones to lay out on the wooden surface of the dress to film them better.

The thought of you wearing them for him has his cock hardened completely and leaking with pre-cum. He can feel the wet spot soaking his underwear. He would give anything to have you wear them, rubbing the lacy fabric against his face and cock with your pussy.

He takes turns smelling each of them, inhaling the sweet intoxicating scent of your pussy and fabric softener.

He finds a sexy lacy pair in his favorite color as he sets the panties back in their drawer. That one belongs to him now.

The urge to rub his cock to completion gets harder to control as he tucks the panty into his pocket. A dark thought blooms within his mind as he focuses back on your sleeping figure.

You’re so unconscious that you don’t even feel him lifting the covers. He has to bite his bottom lip when he sees you’re in the perfect position for him.

“Such a little fucking whore. Bet she loves getting rammed. Probably loves doing what Nina rarely ever did,” he thinks to himself.

You’re on your side with the top leg bent up and spread against the mattress. With your other leg stretched out underneath, providing Louis with the perfect shot of your bare pussy.

He lifts his camera to pan the frame slowly onto the sight of your pretty little puffy pussy displayed just for him.

He can’t help but palm his cock through his trousers. He needs to cum. It’s starting to hurt. His balls are just so full and his cock, so painfully hard.

He growls lowly at your exposure and freezes instantly, watching if he woke you up. You don’t stir in the slightest, not even when his long slender fingers gently part your plush lips to spread them open for his private little video.

Licking his gloved fingers, he savors the taste of your cunt and hisses contently. He smiles devilishly when you don’t react to his fingertips slowly probing your entrance. Until the moment you finally turn onto your back, unconsciously spreading your legs even wider.

He wonders if you’re awake and enjoying his little teasing, but judging by your steady breathing, you’re sleeping like a rock.

He licks his lips at the pussy opportunity splayed out in front of him.

His menacing gaze narrows on the sight between your displayed pussy as he unbuttons his pants and pulls them down enough to let his cock spring free. He thinks about penetrating you and fucking you with just his tip. Would it wake you up?

He carefully climbs onto your bed and positions himself on his knees between your legs with his camera back in hand. He spits in his gloved hand and gathers his leaking pre-cum to lube his cock up. The slick latex against his skin makes the stroking even easier.

Staring down at your beautiful folds, he wishes he could take his time, but truth be told, he’s so fucking hard already and he needs to get it out of his system.

Your cunt looks so pretty and juicy that he wishes you could use his face as a seat all day.

His cock throbs in his hand as he gently pressed his tips between your folds, pausing only to zoom the camera in on your pussy and his cock now perfectly aligned and connected.

God, it feels so perfect like your pussy was made for his cock. So warm and soft against his. He can’t imagine what you feel like inside. He wants nothing more than to pump you full of his cum until it drips out, just so he could push the leakage back inside with his cock.

The thought alone is enough to get him close. He has to be careful and slow.

He pushes his cock past your pretty lips slowly. With his mouth hanging open in an O, he closes his eyes as he fights back a moan. You feel so deliciously good and tight around him. He doesn’t want to cum to just yet though.

The movement of his hips is slow as he takes his time pushing in and pulling out. He could swear you’re wet, but he assumes it’s just his eager cock.

Carefully setting your legs to drape around his thighs for a better position, his pace picks up a little.

At this point, the friction of his cock and your perfect pussy is audible to him, but it doesn’t seem to even bother you. He doesn’t even care about anything other how deliciously heavenly your cunt feels.

He’s close. So fucking close. He pauses his movement, holding his cock inside your walls to reach up and gently push your shirt up past your chest.

He toys with your exposed tits. He needs to feel you.

Hooking his teeth under the rim of the glove at his wrist, he uses them to remove his hand from the glove. Once it’s tucked into his pockets, he reaches up to continue playing with your breasts.

He licks his lips imagining them wrap around your nipples, suckling and biting your tender flesh to mark you and let everyone know what a whore you are, but most importantly his whore.

He just has to get his mouth on them. They look too irresistible to miss what could be the only opportunity he has.

He sets the camera on the bed beside you to film himself fucking you while simultaneously sucking on your tits, kneading them each in his large hands.

He’s balls deep in your tight cunt now. You must be so damn drugged because your eyes aren’t even moving and your breathing is still steady. Even if you were dead, it wouldn’t stop him for fucking you. He just loves you that much.

After giving your breasts the well-deserved attention, he can’t hold back anymore and believes he doesn’t have to.

If you haven’t woken up by now, then pounding your pussy raw definitely won’t wake you up.

So he grabs the camcorder again and starts fucking you harder and faster like a filthy little slut with his hand groping at your tits, making sure to get your pussy and tits all in one angle.

He wants to watch your tits bounce as he pounds your cunt mercilessly when he jacks off to the video later.

Sliding his hand to your hip to hold you steady, he relishes how the wet slap of skin-on-skin echoes through your apartment.

He wishes you could be awake to scream his name until your neighbors complain with fists to their walls.

It’s all too much.

He soon pulls out just in time to coat your pussy with his pearly white load.

You just look so pretty painted with his cum.

“My Mona Lisa,” he thinks to himself. “That’s what I’ll name this footage.”

Pulling his cock away, he lowers the camera for a close-up of his masterpiece taking his time to get every single angle of the white streaks on your flesh.

Staring intently at your cunt with wide eyes as he films, the feeling that floods him is the same at the one he felt on the night of the car crash in Benedict Canyon. This is another of his greatest accomplishments. He pants with adrenaline.

Curiously, he dips two fingers into his bodily ‘paint’ and toys with it, enjoying how slick your lips feel on his fingers. If he wasn’t so spent right now, he’d go at again and again.

He wonders how he’s going to clean you up now. He made a mess on your pussy. He can’t leave you in this state. It’ll be too obvious when you wake up in the morning.

Setting his camera on your bed to get him in the shot once again, he scoots down your bed and aligns his mouth to your coated pussy.

Snaking his arms under your thighs – letting them dangle over his shoulders – his hands reach your breasts to gently knead them. He wants to squeeze them hard, but he’s worried that might be the final drop that wakes you up.

He doesn't mind that his cum is all over your. It's really an excuse just to get his mouth on your cunt.

He takes his time letting his tongue explore your pussy, swiveling over every mound of your lips and dipping into every valley. Using his fingers to pry your pussy open, he stretches you enough to delve his tongue into your used hole.

He was careful not to cum inside you, but he yearns to taste you.

Deciding you’re clean enough, he carefully removes himself to stand and takes his camera to record each angle of your used naked figure, carefully circling around your room and zooming in your pussy, tits and face.

You look so pretty and innocent in comparison to he violated you.

Taking the advantage of your position, he quickly sets his camera on your nightstand and rushes to the bathroom to find something to clean you up with.

Locating some wet wipes under your sink, he turns the hot water to warm a couple sheets and heads back to clean you up.

He thoughtfully lowers your shirt and covers your body back up. He’s not a complete monster; there is genuine care for you in him.

He kisses your head gently before stepping back to look for any further evidence.

Heading towards the door, he finds your keys handing up on the wall. There aren’t many. Just three. So, he tests each one out to find your apartment key. Once he does, he takes the silicone putty he’d placed in an old and empty Altoids metal container.

He stamps the key into the mold twice, making sure to get both sides of the key perfectly imprinted.

His copy of your key has to be perfect to save time for the next time.

#louis bloom #lou bloom #lou bloom x reader #lou bloom x y/n #lou bloom x you #louis bloom x reader #louis bloom x y/n #louis bloom x you #nightcrawler #jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal fanfic #jake gyllenhaal smut

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eagerbby · 2 years

Text

night moves | e.m

pairing| Eddie Munson x female reader

synopsis| realistically, you can only run from your feelings for so long. being trapped at steve harrington’s lake house with eddie munson during the worst storm of the summer presents an interesting opportunity.

an| just some late summer vibes. once again not canon, but i imagine it would take place after the events of season 4. lightly inspired by one of my favorite songs; bob segers ‘night moves’. 18+

warnings| 9k+ words, lots of angst in this one, drug use, jealous! eddie, skinny dipping if you squint, hand job, oral (male receiving), PnV (wrap it up folks), lots of fluff, light sub! eddie, light dom! reader

You didn’t want it to seem like you were running away, because you weren’t. But you did need to escape the confines of Steve’s lake house before you went crazy. You needed to get high, which wasn’t an easy feat at the moment.

The late summer breeze rolled through the trees, cool against your damp skin. You wanted to enjoy the way the summer humidity faded into the night sky as the early tips of autumn shook the leaves of the massive trees covering the property. But every time you tried to light your bowl, the wind blew it right out. Extinguishing the flame instantly. Which led you to your current position, huddled under the gazebo next to the lake covering yourself with the hoodie you grabbed as you made your escape. The hoodie was the perfect block and you finally lit the bud in your precious purple glass bowl and took a long toke. You held the smoke in your lungs long enough to peel the gray material from your body, exhaling a plume of white fog as you sat down in the hammock that hung from the gazebos trusses.

The weed made your fingers tingle and you took a much needed deep breath. In through the nose. Out through the mouth. Again and again until your shoulders eased and the tapping of your foot ceased. It had been a long couple days.

When Steve approached you with the idea to gather the masses and go spend a week up at his lake house, you thought he was brilliant. The kids needed the escape, the ability to just be kids after the hell they’d gone through. When you asked who was all going to be there, Steve clammed up a little, offering you a quick, “Oh, you know. You, me, Robin, the kids.” before begging you to come. He didn’t have to beg, you were in the moment he started talking.

But the day of, Steve arrived with a car full of kids, and Eddie Munson.

Eddie. Fucking. Munson.

It was almost enough to make you not want to go. Not because of Eddie, although he definitely played a role, but because you knew it was a set up. You knew by Robin’s manic smile and the way Steve couldn’t even look at you as you glared at him through the rearview mirror, smushed in the backseat between Dustin and Eddie.

When you had arrived, you grabbed your friends by the collars of their shirts and pulled them to the side, away from the children and Eddie.

“What the actual fuck?” You hissed.

“Whatever do you mean?” Robin was trying, and failing, to act perplexed by your annoyance.

Steve came clean fast, never one to offer himself up to your wrath, snitching on Robin and Dustin. As much as you wanted to be surprised, you weren’t. Robin had snooped through your journal so often she could probably write a book about your life, and Dustin, well he looked at Eddie like he put the moon in the sky. Eddie was his idol, his mentor, and Dustin was nosy. He’d over heard you and Steve one night and had refused to let the little tidbit he found out that night go. Much to your chagrin.

Steve begged you to be nice, which you were offended by, because you were nice. A little rough around the edges, but definitely nice. Robin, on the other hand, might as well have been rubbing her hands together menacingly. You could see the cogs turning in her head. Her master plan finally coming to fruition.

The first night was easy, the ten of you sitting around the fire roasting marshmallows, swimming in the lake, Steve telling the worst ghost stories you’d ever heard. Of course ghost stories were nothing in comparison to what all of you had already lived through. You fell asleep next to Robin that night listening to the crickets chirping and the wind through the leaves.

Day two, you wavered just slightly. You woke up alone, the house oddly quiet. It gave you the chance to smoke, take a shower, and eat something with a little more substance than pizza and s'mores. When you finally walked out onto the front porch you could see your group splashing in the lake, the sun bright and warm. And then you heard it.

It was soft, just the simple strumming of the guitar. You followed the sound blindly, barefoot against the cool wood of the wrap around porch. It didn’t take you long to find him, but it sure did knock you a little breathless at the sight of him.

He was sitting against a wooden pillar, one long leg hanging off the side of the porch, his acoustic perched on his lap. He was wearing shorts, which was rare, and his Hellfire Club shirt. Admittedly, it was a weird outfit choice but it was undeniably him. He had his eyes closed, not even watching as he strummed the chords of a song you instantly recognized. It was his guilty pleasure song. A song he’d rather go to his grave than admit he liked. But here he was, lazily swinging his leg and smiling softly to himself.

You thought, for a split second, about going over to him. Sitting down cross legged in front of him like you used to. Back when you were a part of his life. But you hadn’t spoken to Eddie in a long time. Things were different. So you walked away from him, much like you had almost a year before.

Day three and four were full of awkward exchanges and sideways glances. It didn’t take long for the kids to realize something was amiss. The tension every time you two were in the same vicinity was palpable.

Day five, you came to the realization that everyone was in on Robin’s masterplan. Everyone, except you and Eddie. The two of you were teamed up at every chance possible. It started innocently enough, but soon it became glaringly obvious. You tried to roll with it, refusing to be the reason the week was ruined, but it wasn’t easy being around him. Looking at him proved difficult enough, but being able to smell him, to physically feel his presence, it was starting to unravel you. Especially after the two of you won a game of fruit punch pong and Eddie scooped you off your feet in a victorious hug. It had sent lightning zinging through your body. But then he all but dropped you to your feet. You stood like a statue as he scratched at his head, avoiding looking at you. You could hear the snickers from the kids, see the way Robin smiled proudly.

Day six came a storm so bad it flooded the driveway separating the property from the main road. Steve promised that that water would rescind soon enough, that you’d only be here a couple extra days. The kids didn’t care, but you felt that knot in your gut. That anxiety at not being able to leave. You all spent the day inside, watching movies and playing board games. Listening to Eddie play guitar and the kids have an impromptu karaoke battle. It was still raining on day seven, and Steve left Eddie in charge as you, him, and Robin walked down the muddy path to the end of the driveway. Except the entire bottom half was completely covered by a steady stream of water. Too deep to drive through. You were stuck. The three of you arrived back to the house with the news, dripping on the porch like a couple wet dogs with mud covered paws. The kids cheered. You and Eddie shared a fleeting, knowing, look.

So here you were, a day after you were supposed to leave, high and alone as thunder rolled in the distance. You could feel the rain coming in, that slight pulse in your foot, the telltale sign of a storm rolling through. Eddie always thought you were crazy when you told him your foot told you it was going to rain. But that small ache in the bone that you had broken back when you were in middle school was never wrong.

The day had been spent taking advantage of every brief moment of peace from the rain. Steve was being his normal self, which was a total mom, refusing to let the kids out unless they promised to stay out of the mud puddles. Made them go down the row, one by one, saying “I promise not to play in the mud.”, until every last kid had said it. When he finally opened the front door to let them out, they ran out like a herd of bulls, straight for the mud. Steve had the audacity to act surprised, waving his hands and stomping his feet as the kids defied him.

What a shock.

Robin and yourself were doubled over, laughing so hard not a sound was heard until you both were gasping for air. Eddie chuckled and clapped his hand over Steve’s shoulder, shaking his head in disappointment before he followed after the gaggle of children, sparring with Dustin whose face was mud brown and cakey.

After showers and a dinner of spaghetti, which you cooked, everyone gathered in the living room. Mike had not so casually suggested a game of truth or dare. You were forced to play. It was fine. Fun even. Lucas dared Steve to lick the bottom of Robin’s foot, which he did, but not without gagging and whining the whole time.

Dustin was determined to make everyone miserable, dare or not. Two fights had almost broken out between the boys. Once when Dustin dared Mike to eat the very questionable pickles in the back of the Harrington fridge. The problem? Mike hates pickles and swore up and down that he was “very susceptible to food poisoning”. Dustin called bullshit. No pickles were eaten. The second time, Will chose the truth. The question was something about Will purposefully losing the last DnD campaign, which started a whole, very heated, argument. That ended when Steve screamed at everyone to shut up before bopping Dustin upside the head. “Quit being a butthead.”

When it was Eleven’s turn to ask a question, she turned towards you with her big golden brown eyes. She was so innocent. So sweet. You picked the truth, just to appease them since you really didn’t want to play, and she thought to herself for a second and asked, “Have you ever been in love?”

It was almost like a movie, the way every head in the room had snapped towards you, waiting for an answer. You couldn’t speak at first, pretending like you were seriously thinking about it, while trying to calm your creeping anxiety. You could feel Eddie staring at you like the others, watching the way you shifted on the beanbag you sat on. All that time you two had spent together, those words were never said. But you felt them. Had felt them from the moment he had laid his head on your shoulder that night in his van when he picked you up because you just couldn’t be at home anymore.

“Yeah, I’ve been in love..” You looked directly at El as you said it, absolutely refused to look anywhere else. It wasn’t an obvious admission, but to the few people in the room that knew, you might as well have sung it from the rooftops. El had smiled at your answer, unaware of the dam she had just shattered, and the game went on. You sat there for another couple rounds before it felt like you were gonna crawl out of your skin. You excused yourself, power walked to your shared room to grab your weed, and grabbed the hoodie off the hook as you raced out the door.

You didn’t have high hopes that it’d be easy, but you never thought it’d be this hard. Things ended badly between you two. After that night, when he almost died, Eddie was a different person. You understood how hard it was on him. Coming back from the Upside Down irrevocably changed. Injured and still wanted. You stood beside him as he healed, as he and Hopper fought to clear his name. But you felt him pulling away. Could feel yourself losing him no matter how hard you tried to hold on. Then that night, when he told you he couldn’t do it any longer. That whatever you two were, was over. You thought, okay maybe he just needs space. So you gave it to him. Waited around for him to call. Days turned into a month and then another. You knew what he was up to, because despite removing you from his life, he was still friends with your friends. Hanging out, playing gigs at the Hideout, getting high with Robin next to the dumpster behind Family Video. It became all too real. He didn’t need space. He just didn’t need you.

The rain was pouring down in sheets as you sat in the hammock, nursing your bowl easily now that the wind had shifted. It felt good to be high. To feel the electrified numbness take over your senses. Thunder rumbled in the distance and you swung happily, relishing in the wet smell of the earth, in the swell of the breeze and the occasional cold drop of rain on your toes. You loved storms. Felt like you had one living in your chest. You’d become good at masking the pain of being tossed aside. Leaving it to brew like black storm clouds in your heart.

You had never put a name on your relationship. You were just friends. Friends who spent maybe a little too much time together. Friends that bonded over music and shitty parents. Friends who fooled around while high or drunk but acted like nothing happened when sober. It was a little confusing, but you grew accustomed to the mystery of it all. It was you and Eddie. That’s the only title it really needed.

There were moments during the week where things felt like they used to. But then you’d lock eyes with Eddie and the fantasy would come crashing down around you. You couldn’t ever read the expression on his face in those moments. You could tell something was simmering under the surface, but you couldn’t make it out. Your doubt said it was disdain mixed with a little hatred. Your hope said it was longing. That’s why you had to get out of there. The storm clouds in your chest crackled with lightning the moment you said what you did.

Yeah, I’ve been in love.

He was sitting in that very room. Watching you say what you’d been too scared to. You grew up thinking love was a hopeless, fickle, thing. You swore it off completely. But Eddie had weaseled his way in, made himself at home.

And then ripped it right out from under your feet.

Yet stupidly, those feelings still remained. So maybe the weed could bury them back down. At least for the night.

“Are you alive?” No such luck.

You raised your heavy head to peer up at the voice. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, but it was a pleasure to see him standing in front of you with his curls all wet.

“I’m alive. Just high.” You said into the wind.

“Shit you have weed? I ran out four days ago.” He shuffled closer, eyes darting from the bowl in your hands to your red eyes. That’s a pretty long time for him to go without, so you reach your hand out, offering the bowl to him as you swung to and fro.

“Really? Shit, thanks.” He takes your offer quickly, taking the bowl and holding it to his plush pink lips. You could still remember the way they felt against your skin. The memory made you shiver.

The two of you stayed in a peaceful silence, passing the bowl back and forth. Your fingers would brush every other pass, his fingers cold against the palm of your hand. It was exhilarating. You missed his touch so much it made your chest heavy. After a while you heard your names being called. Couldn’t quiet the disappointment as you sighed loudly, struggling to leave the hammock. The two of you walked the cobblestone path back to the porch, lingering on a look as you were pulled your separate ways. You went with Robin to the kitchen, Eddie with Dustin to the living room.

You laid in your bed next to a snoring Robin, hours after everyone had gone to sleep, rubbing the path his fingers had taken on your palm. You could still feel him, the lingering tickle of his skin against yours. Your ability to keep your distance from him was dissolving, fluttering away on butterfly wings every time you caught him watching you with furrowed brows and his big doe eyes. You missed him. Missed him so badly you hated yourself for it. Because you shouldn’t miss someone who threw you to the side without a second thought.

Maybe you were a glutton for punishment.

—-

“So what, you’re just gonna stay out here all night?”

Steve tossed you another pillow, which you fluffed before placing it on the makeshift bed you’d been building in the gazebo for the past hour. The sun was setting, tinting the cloudy sky in shade of red and orange. You had spent the day curled up in the hammock, watching the kids splash around in the lake. Steve and Robin had joined them, getting too competitive at chicken and marco polo, while you read the book you had forgotten you’d packed.

Eddie had taken up camp just in front of you. Six feet away. Laying on the ledge of the gazebo in only a pair of shorts hung so low on his hips you could trace the hill of his hip bone with your eyes. He’d brought his guitar out with him again and a very worn copy of Dante’s Inferno. He touched neither, instead he laid there for hours with the sun casting bright warm rays against his pale skin. You tried your best to keep your eyes on the pages of your book but your resolve wasn’t the strongest. You couldn’t stop yourself from peeping at him from behind your paperback. The black widow tattoo next to his collarbone, the demon just underneath it. His chest was a little more defined, his soft tummy a little firmer, the trail of dark hair leading to his thick pretty co-

Snap out of it.

You weren’t trying to objectify him, but when he looked like *that, you couldn’t help but to stare. To roam your eyes over every expanse of skin you could see. You were looking at him like a whore, clenching your thighs together and growing wet at just the sight of him. He never failed to make you horny. He could simply place one of his big, calloused, ring covered hands on your thigh and you’d be wetter than the amazon.

He caught you at one point with your book held against your chin, teeth biting into the flesh of your lips. Your eyes had been focused on the slight bulge in his pants. He wasn’t hard, just big, and it made your mouth water remembering the way the heavy head of his cock tasted in your mouth. Your eyes snapped to his when he cleared his throat and you hurried to stuff your nose back in your book, absolutely petrified that he caught you.

“I’ll be fine, Steve. The house is right there.” You busied yourself in your task, ignoring the sound of Eddie’s white Reeboks as he walked past with Max. “Look, if I have to sleep next to Robin, the Snore Queen, one more night I might smother her in her sleep.”

Steve laughed at that, walking over to the lattice walls of the gazebo and turning on the fairy lights.

“It looks good.” He said, standing next to you to admire your work. “What if it rains?”

“I tested that theory last night. I’ll stay dry as long as I stick to the middle.”

“Is the hammock gonna be in your way? I can take it down.” He offered, moving to do just that, but you held his elbow and shook your head.

“No, I’ll probably end up using it.”

“Mm, okay. Robin’s gonna have a cow that you’re leaving her, you know.” Steve nudged you with his elbow as the two of you made your way up the cobblestone towards the house.

“She’ll live. She can always bunk with you.” You smiled at him when he turned to you with a glare.

“What, so I can deal with Miss Snores a lot, no thanks.” The two of you laughed together.

“To be honest, I just want to get really fucking stoned and relax in peace.”

“Well, I’ll try to keep all the children contained so you can get some much needed alone time.” Steve held the door for you, waving his hand for you to enter first. You offered him a curtsy, turning back towards him as you entered.

“You’re such a good dad.” He rolled his eyes at this, shoving your shoulder lightly. You tossed your head back in a laugh, your favorite pastime was bugging the shit out of Steve.

Eddie was quiet the rest of the night, seemingly irritated if the drag of his fork against his plate was any indication. You could feel his eyes on you every time you talked to Steve. Catching him in your peripheral with his jaw clenched, his head low but his eyes locked onto you. He was jealous, you could tell. He was always jealous over how close you and Steve were. He told you once he couldn’t understand how Harrington had never made a move with the way you threw yourself at him. But you weren’t doing that, your feelings for Steve had always and would always be platonic. You were just a touchy person when it came to your friends.

It was wrong the way his jealousy made you dewy between your thighs. Eddie was a protective, maybe a little possessive, person when it came to those he cared about. So it was definitely wrong of you to laugh a little harder at Steve’s jokes. To run your fingers down his arm as you talked about him getting a tattoo. It was just a fun little game, a cruel but fun one. He had no right to be jealous.

He left you, remember?

But then his chair scraped across the hardwood floor so loudly it made everyone jump and he stormed out of the dining room leaving his food mostly untouched. You felt it, that disgusting guilt in the pit of your stomach. The kids were confused, watching after him and calling his name, but you all heard the way he stomped up the stairs to his room. It wasn’t until the chatter of the kids resumed that Steve leaned over and whispered into your ear, “Is that what you wanted?”

“What?” You whispered back, Steve rolled his eyes.

“You were so obviously trying to make him jealous, even I noticed it.”

“I was not.” It was easier to just deny it.

“Whatever,” He hissed. “Just go up there and fuck each others brains out already. I’m over this whole will-they-won't-they shit. You two obviously still like each other. You just need to get over yourself.”

You just need to get over yourself.

His words played on repeat through the rest of dinner. They still echoed through your brain as you helped build a giant blanket fort in the living room for the kids. Eddie never came back down and when you walked by his room on the way to yours you could hear the sound of music blaring through his Walkman. You stopped at his door, hand hovering to knock, but thought better of it. You were wrong for what you did, but that didn’t mean you wanted to apologize.

After grabbing your things and saying goodnight to the group in the living room, you made your way back to the gazebo. It was pretty and you felt a sense of pride at it. The hammock blew softly in the breeze and your makeshift bed was dry and warm, the whole space lit up by the soft orange glow of the lights hung around the space. You should have done this earlier, maybe you would have gotten some decent sleep. As much as you loved Robin, sleeping next to her was next to impossible. But out here it was just you and the crickets. The soft twinkling of windchimes off in the distance. No one could see you nestled under the blankets, your book in your hands. You caught yourself a mild high, just enough to feel the buzz under your skin but not too much that you couldn’t focus on the winding romance you followed from page to page.

You lose track of time deep in your book, but you hear the sound of shoes against the path, hear the heavy exhale as they stop at the steps in front of you.

“Uh, hey.” It’s Eddie, dressed in his usual black jeans and shirt combo, but he’s wearing a red flannel now. He looks pretty, and tired.

“Hey?” It’s more of a question as you set your book down next to you.

“Do you, uh, do you have any more weed?”

“I do.”

“Mind sharing? I could really use it right about now.”

You pass the bowl to him, watch him take a long hit and hold it deep in his lungs. The breeze takes the smoke as it billows out his mouth and in the distance thunder rolls. Just like the other night, you two pass it back and forth in silence until you can’t take watching him shift around uncomfortably.

“You can sit, if you want.” You said as you scoot over, patting the spot beside you. He lingers for a minute before kicking off his shoes and crawling in next to you. Your heart beats a little faster as he makes himself comfortable, his shoulder grazing yours as he does so.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, taking the bowl back from you.

“Yeah, of course.”

He goes to pass the bowl back to you, but you hold up a hand, telling him to finish the bowl pack. You’re watching him, not even being secretive about it. Fuck that. You didn’t care anymore, not when he looked this fucking good doing something as simple as smoking weed.

“Hey, Eds?” He almost snaps his neck with how fast he turned to look at you. It was the name. Eds. You were the only person that ever called him that. You could see him shiver under your heavy stare.

“Yeah?” He was unsure, eyes a little wider than usual.

“I’m sorry I was so clingy, after- well you know- after everything that happened.”

He looked confused, so you went on.

“But I wish you could have just told me you didn’t want me around anymore. It really hurts that you just dropped me like I meant nothing to you.” You were fiddling with your fingers now and he watched, aware of your nervous ticks.

“Bunny,” His nickname for you. It used to drive you crazy when he called you Bunny, but you couldn’t help but relish in it at the moment. “It wasn’t you.”

“Huh?”

He rubbed a hand over his face. “I thought I was fucking helping you, Bunny. When we came back to Hawkins, all I wanted was to be with you but I was fucked up and everyone thought I was a fucking serial killer… I thought if you stayed with me you’d end up resenting me.”

“They cleared your name, Eds.”

“Yeah, and yet I still get dirty looks and yelled at in town. Not everyone believed I was innocent. Especially not your parents.”

“My parents?” Of course they had something to do with it.

“They came into Family Video one day, told me if I didn’t break it off with you that they’d keep your college fund from you. That they would disown their own daughter. I- Bunny all you ever talked about was getting the fuck out of Hawkins, if they did that you’d never be able to leave. I couldn’t let that happen. You were gonna leave me anyways, go off to college and get your dream job. I felt like I was just holding you back.” His eyes were searching your face as he finished, looking for a reaction before you could even process the words he said.

“Eddie, you should have told me.”

“You wouldn’t have listened to me. I wasn’t gonna be the one to take that away from you.”

You laughed darkly, looking out over the pitch black lake. “Eds, they took the fucking money away from me anyways. I crashed my dad's car while driving out to Forest Hills a couple months ago. Completely totaled it. It was never about you, Eddie, my parents are fucking horrible. They were just waiting for a reason to take that money back. I think they’re gonna use it to get divorced.”

“What? Were you hurt?” His whole body is turned towards you now, searching every inch he could see for any sign of injury, as if it had just happened.

“I broke my wrist.” You held it up in front of his face and he gingerly took it between his large hands, tracing the small scar with his thumb. “I’m fine now. I’m surprised the peanut gallery didn’t tell you.”

“I asked them not to tell me about you.” He said softly, gauging your reaction to his words. “It hurt too much to think about you out there without me.”

“You can be really dense, you know that?” He gives you a look you can’t help but giggle at. “I’ve missed you, Eddie.”

“Have you?” He asked, hands still holding your wrist. “Couldn’t tell. You’ve been avoiding me like the plague since we got here.”

“Can you blame me? You broke my heart.” The words escape you before you can stop them.

“I’m sorry.” He said and you know he meant it just by the sad expression he wore, his frown almost upsetting. He was so pretty when he smiled, it almost killed you to see him frown.

“S’okay. I’m okay. It was hard but I got over it.” Lies.

“I heard.” That stops you in your tracks and you squint your eyes up at him, suspiciously.

“What’s that mean?”

“What? Nothing. I just heard that you’ve been dating, s’all.”

He heard you’ve been dating? From who?

“Yeah, thought you didn’t keep tabs on me?”

He shrugged. “Dustin lets things slip.”

“Dustin’s a child. He thinks he knows more than he does.”

He nodded. “So you aren’t going out with Chris Younger?”

Fucking Dustin. That nosy little punk.

“I wouldn’t call it going out.” You said, cocking your head to the side. The orange glow made his eyes look lighter, a more honey brown, but the clench of his jaw was unmistakable.

“What would you call it then?” He asked slowly, each word spoken like he was forcing them out of his mouth.

“Eddie…” It was a warning. You knew he wouldn’t like the answer.

“Bunny.” It was a firm order of your nickname; he wanted to know.

“I fucked him senseless and never called him back.”

There it was, the flare of his nostrils, the clench of his jaw so tight you feared it would lock up, and his eyes so narrowed all you could see in the dim light was his black pupils.

“Is that what you wanted to hear, Eddie? That I fucked him in the backseat of his car? That I let him call me baby as I rode his cock?” You were getting a rise out of him. He shook his head and looked away from you, his hands balled up in fists in his lap. His anger wasn’t enough to shut you up however. You had him right where you wanted him. So you grabbed his chin with your fingers and pulled him into you, your breath fanning over his face.

“Or maybe you want to hear about how I imagined he was you the whole time. That I called him by your name as I came. Because it doesn’t matter who it is, no one can fuck me as good as you can, Eds.”

You kissed him before you could think twice about it. Kissed him so hard he gasped, toppling onto his back in surprise, his hands coming up to hold your face to his. You bit his lip, slipping your tongue into his mouth when he moaned. You were never the one to take the lead, that had always been his job, but you weren’t gonna be submissive to him this time. He had to earn that.

You pushed him until he was propped up against the pillows, looking all pretty with his hair splayed over the pillow and his cheeks all red. Crawling onto his lap, you sat right on his hardening cock, feeling the bulge so clearly through the thin fabric of your shorts.

“Tell me, Eddie. Use your words. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“Bunny.” He only whispered as he gazed up at you.

“Bunny.” You mocked him, pouting over exaggeratedly down at him, before an evil thought crossed your mind and you ground your hips down onto him. Your clothed pussy dragging up the length of his hard cock. His hands clapped down on your waist, seizing a hold of your hips with bruising force. He moaned. Long and languid, his eyes falling shut and his mouth parting wide.

“Eddie, focus.” You teased him, grinding against him even harder. Even slower. Circling your hips on top of him at such an agonizing pace it drove even you crazy.

“I can’t.” He whined, eyes still pinned shut, his heartbeat pounding through his chest underneath the palm of your hand.

“I want an answer, Eddie. Is that what you wanted to hear?” His hands flew from your hips to pull at his hair. You could tell how hard you were making this for him. He didn’t want to say it. To say that it made him hard thinking about you cumming over some other guys dick while you screamed Eddie’s name. It made him furious, but it also made him throb. “Say it, Eddie.”

“I-I can’t.” He cried out, slamming his fists down onto the blankets underneath you two.

“Okay.” It was all you said before you removed yourself from him, kneeling between his spread legs instead. His eyes sprung open at the loss of you, propping up on his elbows with a cute little frown.

“Why’d you stop?” He pouted, reaching out for you with his ringed, greedy, fingers. You swatted him away as he pulled at your shirt, giving him your best disapproving look. Inside, though, you were a live wire, crackling with electricity.

“I’m not gonna give you what you want unless you answer me.” You stated. Eddie groaned.

“Why does it matter, Bunny?”

“Because it does. Because for months I waited for you to come back and you never did. Because I had to sit there and listen to Steve talk about Heather Mott coming into the fucking video store every week just to flirt with you. Because I couldn’t *stop thinking about you taking her out to lovers lake and fucking her in the back of your van like you did with me.”

Your chest heaved with every breath you took, spilling your heart out to him as he sat there and looked at you with those big brown eyes that you loved so much. You needed him to say it, because you couldn’t be the only one suffering through your separation.

“Bunny… Dustin didn’t tell me about you and Chris.” He paused, shook his head, and laid back down. His eyes burned holes into the rafters of the gazebo. “I saw you two, at the movies. He had his hand on your thigh and you were whispering to each other and I stood there and I watched you kiss him. It felt like shit seeing you like that with someone else. So I left, went into the parking lot and punched a dent in the side of my van.”

There it was. You had felt like you were going crazy, knowing he didn’t need you but still beating yourself up with the thought of his hands on someone else's body. It certainly wasn’t healthy. But knowing he felt it too made you feel a little less alone.

Your fingers began unbuckling his belt, pulling the leather through the loops and tossing it to the side. Eddie’s hands came down on yours, stalling your work on his zipper.

“Bunny, w-what are you doing?” Once again you swatted at his hands, grabbing him by his wrists and pinning them to his sides.

“I’m gonna suck your cock and you’re not gonna touch me until I say so, understood?”

Eddie was visibly shocked by your words, but he still nodded his head and laid as still as he could as you pulled his jeans down his legs. His cock sprang free, laying against his stomach, precum dripping down the sides of its head. You wanted to lick it all up, savor every drop. But then something else caught your attention.

“What, no boxers?” It was only a tease as you worked his jeans off his strong legs. Eddie shook his head, cheeks heating in a blush of embarrassment.

“Ran out.” He grunted, watching your fingers dance up his shaft.

“Of course you did. Let me guess, you didn’t pack enough?” You wrapped your hand around him fully as you spoke, following the shaky inhale he took at the feeling with lustful eyes. You bit your lip as he arched into your stroke, pressing his head back into the pillows with a groan.

“No,” He said after wetting his lips, his mouth dry. “No, I… I just went through them fast.”

You narrowed your eyes at this, stroking your thumb over his wet tip. “How’d you do that, Eds?”

“Ah shit, that feels- fuck, I-I’ve been jerking it like crazy since I ran out of weed.” A funny feeling grows in your chest at his words, a wide smile pulling at the corners of your lips. You continued the slow caress of your thumb to his most sensitive part as you leaned back on your heels a little, offering him a naïve look.

“Whatchu been thinking about, hmm?” He met your look with one of his own. It was an attempt to look irritated at what he thought was such an obvious question. He knew you knew. But that look wouldn’t hold, not with you swiping the precum from his slit before smoothing the salty taste down your tongue. Because you already knew the answer. You fucking knew.

“Y-you, Bunny. I was thinking about you. I always think about you.” His voice falls off at the end, if you weren’t paying such close attention to him you probably wouldn’t have heard it. But you did, and it sends heat right to your core. His hands shake at his sides.

“What am I doing, in these thoughts of yours?” You flatten your tongue against his tip, keening at the way his brows knit together and the way the head of his cock is warm against your tongue.

“Can’t tell ya. S’too dirty for me to say.”

“I already know you’re a dirty boy, Eddie.” You wrapped your lips around his head, hollowing your cheeks as you coaxed him into your mouth. You took him as far into your throat as you could, gagging on his thickness. You weren’t sure if it was the sound you made or the feeling that got him, but as you pulled up his length his hands sprung to your head. He didn’t force you back down, no, he grabbed your head and stroked your cheeks gently. Peering up at him you found he was gazing down at you so intently, so much affection radiating off him. He broke your rule, but only to silently thank you.

“That feels incredible, Bunny.” Another gentle stroke of your cheek before he lays his hands back down at his sides, allowing you to continue your trail up his shaft.

You go back to the task at hand; slowly unraveling his wits with your hot wet mouth and tongue. Eddie was getting more talkative, a sure sign he was close, and you didn’t want that yet. He wasn’t allowed to cum yet. One last swirl around his tip, his hands found your elbow and you pulled away from him fast. His hands blindly followed after you, reaching out into the orange glow around you. You were already on your feet when he sat up, his hard cock bobbing as he shuffled forward.

“Wh-where are you going?” His voice was strained, his face pinched together.

You pulled your shirt over your head, looped your thumbs in the waistband of your shorts as you wiggled them over your thighs and down your legs.

“Skinny dipping. You coming?”

“What? Bunny, I was so close.”

“I know. You can wait though.” You tried to hide your smile while taking off your bra and throwing it into his face. “Now, are you coming?”

“I’m trying to.” He was starting to whine and you felt so powerful. Loved the way he looked ready to get on his knees and grovel for you. “What if someone sees?” He asked, eyes taking in your bare body, his own hand now wrapped around his cock. You push his hand away with your foot, tsking at him.

“Stop that.” You chastised. “And no one will see, with the day they had they’re probably all asleep. Come on Eddie, don’t you want to see me all naked and wet?”

“You’re already dripping wet.” So he noticed. The slick between your legs was starting to trail down your thigh, leaving you sticky and uncomfortable.

“Come. Don’t come. It’s your choice.” With that you sprinted to the dock, ignoring him calling after you as you jumped. The warm water swallowed your whole, caressing your heated skin, relaxing your muscles. The water was too dark to see but you felt the rumble of water as Eddie jumped in behind you.

You broke through the surface with a laugh, smoothing your hair out of your face and searched the dark expanse of the lake for him. He popped out beside you, grabbing you by the waist and anchoring you to his chest. He kissed you sweetly, letting his tongue trace the shape of your lips. You didn’t push him away, chose to let him kiss you as passionately as he wanted, because this was all *you wanted. To be with him like this again felt too good to be true. But Eddie was sturdy under your touch, there was no doubt that this was really happening.

When he pulled away, you couldn’t help the giggle that flew out your mouth. His hair was wild, soaking wet, little curls glued to his face.

“Hi. You came.” You said as you pushed the hair from his eyes.

“Yeah, how could I not?” He let you finish fixing his hair before he laid your head against his shoulder, a firm hand holding your body to his. His cock was still hard, pressed against your hip, and as much as you wanted to reach your hand between the two of you, you felt content just letting him hold you like this.

“I’m sorry I hurt you.” He cooed into your ear, kissing the wet hair at your temple.

“Next time, just tell me, Eds. All this angsty teenage bullshit was for nothing.”

“I thought I was doing the right thing, Bunny.”

“I know. I know.”

“I’ve missed you so fucking much.”

“Me too, Eds. So lonely without you.”

He squeezed you tighter, holding in his warm embrace until the sky opened up and rain poured from the dark clouds in rivets. You shrieked as a pierce of lightning hit the sky, thunder bursting around you making the water shake with the vibration. The two of you raced back to the shore, running through the cold rain toward the gazebo in a fit of laughter.

When you finally reached shelter, you snatched up his red flannel, pushing your arms through the sleeves with chattering teeth. Eddie grabbed one of the blankets and wrapped it around his shoulders like a giant cape, pulling you into his warmth. You wrapped your arms around him, nosing the slight patch of hair between his pecs as he held you close, eyes watching the rain pound the water.

“What the fuck just happened.” He chuckled, rocking his body back and forth. You jerked side to side with him, poking him in the ribs when he took you off balance.

“I guess it was time to get out.” You mused kissing his sternum, taking advantage of the blanket you were both wrapped up in, to slip your hand between your bodies and stroke his softening cock.

His head fell into yours, humming at the feeling of your cold hand slowly jerking him off.

“Eddie, lay back down.”

“I’m all wet, Bunny.”

“Don’t care, want you inside me. Now.”

You figured you wouldn’t have to beg and you were right. Eddie dropped the blanket and settled down into the pillows. You crawled into his lap, placing your pussy right down against him. He was already hard, hips rutting up into your slick folds as you teased his length. It didn’t take long for him to get needy, impatient. Whining to himself and digging his nails into your thighs. How could you have missed out on this. On teasing him until he couldn’t form a single rational thought other than “fuck me”.

His hands went to your tits as you sank down on him, keening and groaning as you took him to the hilt. It was a little too much, he hadn’t been inside you for so long it felt like the first time all over again. Eddie must have thought so too as one of his ringed hands left your breast to grip your hip, holding you down on top of him. This was always his favorite part, the stillness before he fucked you senseless. Except he wasn’t in control this time, and despite the need you felt to ride him until the sun came up, you wanted to savor this.

So you sat on his cock, pulsing deep inside you with every clench of your walls, and slowly starting to roll your hips. You used the already quivering muscles of your thighs to guide yourself up and down. Slow at first, making sure you were ready, and then faster until your tits were bouncing in his face. He sat up, meeting you halfway, his mouth closing around your pebbled nipple. He flicked his tongue against the bud and your head lolled back, his flannel slipping from your shoulder.

“Jesus, you’re so beautiful. So fucking pretty like this, bouncing on my cock. Feels just like our first time, can’t believe how fucking tight you are.” He’s breathless as he rambled, palms splayed against your back, helping you fuck his cock at a steady, brain rotting, pace.

“So good, Eds. So good.” You cried out when his hips snapped up into you causing you to fall into his sweaty chest. Your thighs were shaking and your knees ached, but you wanted to be on top. Wanted to be in control, but his cock was hitting you in all the right places and he was looking you dead in the eye. Eye contact was a favorite of his. Loved being able to see the moment you came, the way your eyes squeezed shut.

“Let me take over, Bunny.” He whispered, nudging his nose against yours. “Let me take care of you, show you how much I missed you.”

“No.” You growled, shoving him back against the makeshift bed. You paused your hips to lean over top of him, getting comfortable in this new position with your hands next to his head. You sank down fast and hard once you were ready and Eddie choked on whatever words he was about to say.

“I’m in charge, this time.” You punctuated your words with a slow roll of your hips, sighing as you hung your head forward, unable to tear your eyes away from your pussy greedily swallowing his cock.

Eddie was the one to pull you back to him, kissing you deeply, your tongues swirling together in your mouth. You whined when his thumb started making small tight circles around your swollen clit, snapping your hips down on him at the same pace. The fire in your belly felt like it was gonna burst, your thighs shaking as they desperately tried to carry on. But the approaching wave of your orgasm had you losing rhythm, stalling your hips at their own accord. Eddie saw but didn’t say a thing, only rolled you onto your back and hitched your legs over his hips.

You went to complain, but Eddie shushed you, covering you with his body and cradling your face.

“You’re still in charge, Bunny, M’just helping you.” His hand dipped between your bodies, fingers resuming their tight circles. “You’re such a good boss.”

“Don’t-” You whimpered as his thrusts made your back arch and your toes curl. “Don’t patronize me.”

Eddie chuckled, sucking a hickey to your chest. “I’m not, Bunny, I promise. You did such a good job being on top. My good girl.”

His good girl. Fuck you missed that. Forgotten how good it felt to be called his. You clenched around him causing his thrusts to falter. You were so close, you could feel it burning just under the surface. You wanted to tell him, let him know how good he felt inside you, but there was no reason to. You took one look at him and knew he knew. He could feel it in how wet you were getting, as if it was humanly possible for you to be even more wet, could see it in the pout of your lips and the pinch in your brow.

“Come on, baby. Cum for me. Cum all fucking over my cock. I know you want to, baby. Just let go.”

Your nails dug into his hips as you came, hard. You didn’t make a peep, the air trapped in your throat prevented any sound that tried to escape your open mouth. Eddie fucked you through it wildly, his fast thrusts and your wet core making a sloppy sound when he buried himself to the hilt and pulled back out.

“I’m so close, Bunny. W-where do you want me to cum?” Eddie’s voice was ragged, sweat beading down his chest as he fucked into you.

“Inside, Eds.” You were still out of breath, but you had regained at least a small part of your senses back. “Cum inside me.”

Eddie was dumbstruck, groaning at your words, but that rational side of him made him say, “But, I’m not wearing a condom.”

“I’m on the pill, Eds. Been on the pill since you took my virginity.” And since you took his. “I wanna feel it inside me, Eds.”

“Ah, shit. You- You can’t just say shit like that, Bunny. So dirty. My little freak. Gonna make me come too fast.”

“I thought you were close?” You hiccupped, holding onto him like your life depended on it.

“I am. Just wanna h-hold off a little longer.” He was so focused, the tip of his tongue poking out between his lips as he watched the way your soaked pussy continued to take him. “M’not ready to cum yet. Keep thinking about what you said, h-how you thought of me while you fucked that punk Younger.”

You caressed his cheek, guiding his gaze back to yours. “Stop thinking so much, Eddie.”

“Can’t, shoulda been me. Can’t believe you fucked someone else. Hate the thought of it. Hate that it makes my cock twitch.” His pace was brutal now, his hips slapping against yours so roughly the sound echoed through the trees.

“I wanted it to be you, Eddie.” You spoke softly against his ear, carding your fingers through his tangled curls.

“F-fuck, say my name again. Please, Bunny.”

“Cum inside me, Eddie. Fill me up. Make me yours, Eddie. I wanna be yours.” You chanted in his ear all the praise he’d been desperately missing for months now, clenching down around him when his hips stuttered and his breath caught in his throat.

He came with a shaky grunt, his arm wrapping behind your waist to hold you in place as he fucked himself through it in a few hard, sloppy, jerks of his hips. His cum painted your insides, leaking out around his base as he collapsed on top of you.

“Jesus Christ, that was fucking amazing, so much better than my hand.” Eddie joked as he kissed up the column of your neck, licking at your pulse point and chuckling when it made you shiver under him.

“You really didn’t fuck anyone else after you left?” You asked because you wanted to know, because if he hadn’t you’d feel like shit about the fact that you *had.

“No,” Eddie said, raising to his elbows to look down at you. “I didn’t want to. Felt wrong even thinking about someone else.”

Well, that made you feel like shit. Because you did fuck someone else, and it didn’t matter that it was horrible and your regretted it immediately, because you knew it felt wrong and you still did it.

“Hey, Bunny, don’t cry. Why are you crying?” Eddie rolled off you and pulled your head against his chest, cradling you in his arms while he stroked your hair.

“I was so lonely, I fucked him because I was so lonely and just wanted to be touched and y-you didn’t and I’m such a shitty person.” You were blubbering into his skin, hot tears streaking down your cheeks.

“Hey, don’t do that. We weren’t together, you’re allowed to sleep with other people.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t. You could have and you still didn’t.”

He said your name, your real name, so softly and so lovingly that you nuzzled closer to him, too scared to look him in the eye. The moment reminded you of the night you took each other's virginities. How he held you so close afterwards, stroking your hair, and he hummed your name. Said it in a way you’d never heard before. That night, the sex had been okay, you were both new to it all working together to figure out what felt good and what made your eyes roll back into your heads. Every time after had been better than the last as you learned together what sex could be. But it didn’t matter how high he was, how wrecked and worn out he was, he always held you after. Said your name like it was the only thing that mattered. It was his thing, a thing you never even asked for but it made you feel whole inside.

Eddie was always just doing these things for you without you even asking because he wanted to do them.

“Hey, look at me.” He lifted your chin until he could see your sad face. “I don’t care that you fucked someone else.”

“But-” You tried to interrupt but he put his hand over your mouth, efficiently shutting you up.

“I don’t care about that, at least I’m trying not to. I’ll work on it but you need to stop this ridiculous hate fest going on in that pretty little head of yours. It only took you fucking one person to realize the truth.”

“What truth is that?” You asked with a weak voice, muffled by his hand over your mouth.

“That I’m the fucking god of sex.”

He says it with such a straight face you can’t help but laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.” You snorted, shoving at his chest so you could roll onto your back. You were still giggling as you wiped the tears from your eyes, that ball of guilt in your chest a little lighter.

“Am I wrong? Seriously, Bunny. You can’t say I’m wrong.” He’s trying to be serious but he can’t stop the toothy smile that spreads across his face when he hears you snort again.

“I taught you everything you know, Eds. Shouldn’t that make me the sex god.”

“You know what, you just have to steal my moment, huh?” You coo at him when he says this, patting his cheek with so much condescension he bats your hands away and grabs you by your cheeks with his fingers. “Don’t be a brat, Bunny.”

You smooch at him and he rolls his eyes, drawing you up to his lips. He dropped his hand to your jaw, kissing you so tenderly it made your already wobbly knees weaker.

“Eddie?” You asked as he brushed his nose against yours.

“Yeah?”

“Please don’t leave me like that again, I don’t think I could take it.”

He turned serious as he said, “I promise, Bunny. I’ll try to use my brain a little harder next time.”

“Good.” You ran your thumb over the sharp edge of his jaw. “Good, your brain needs the exercise.”

Eddie tossed his head back against the pillow, dark curls flying into his face and you giggled even harder, loved how dramatic he just couldn’t help being.

“God, you’re such a brat!” He laughed along with you, pulling you tight against his side, and you knew right then that you didn’t have to worry about missing him so deeply it tore you apart ever again.

He wasn’t gonna run away this time.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #stranger things fan fic #stranger things x reader #stranger things smut #eddie munson fluff

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sstormyskyess · 1 month

Text

A Tender Surprise

author's note: hii guys i'm finally back to writing!! it took many weeks but i finished a piece [thank god] so i think i'll be back in the swing of things! if you pay attention to my tags you know i love priceghost and i wanna be a part of it 🙏 i hope y'all like this as much as i do!!

cw: smut, unintentional voyeurism, established ghostprice relation/situationship, oral sex (m receiving), sub!simon, handjobs, threesome

word count: 2500+

John Price x GN!Reader x Simon "Ghost" Riley

If there’s one thing everyone knew about Captain John Price, it was the fact that he always takes care of his team. No matter what, his team is his first priority. That didn’t change one bit when you were onboarded to the team. The very moment you showed up, he treated you like you had always been there without hesitation.

Of course, this wasn’t how everyone on the force treated you. You were an outsider after all; the others on the team barely knew you compared to Price, who you’d known for multiple years before he recruited you.

Ghost was the starkest offender in this case. No matter where you went or who you were talking to, if Ghost was there he was scrutinizing you, and he didn’t try to hide it in the slightest. At the very least, you appreciated his transparency on how he felt about you.

It took months of working together on operations and other missions for him to finally start letting his guard down enough for you to take a glimpse of the Ghost the rest of the task force knew and loved. It was a slow process, but it felt lovely to have his attention in a way that wasn’t unsettling at best.

Although you liked to think that all of it was simply him growing to like you just for you, the change in his attitude was supplemented by Price’s intervention along the way. The captain was a firm advocate of your skills and trustworthiness, and it certainly helped Ghost feel more comfortable around you.

After around a year and a half, you and Ghost have gotten much closer than you would’ve ever imagined upon first meeting him. Much, much closer. Close enough that you two will stay in each other’s private quarters overnight at least once a week, just for the sake of being in each other’s company. You’ve had many a late night talk, comforted each other through the worst of moods, and generally become more of a duo than just regular squadmates.

Tonight is one of those nights where you need someone to be around, just to keep your mind off your troubles for a little while, so you head to Ghost’s quarters just as you usually would. You made it to his door and gently nudged the door handle to check if it was locked or not, and to your relief, the door was open. Generally if he had the door unlocked, it meant he was fine with you visiting. No one else would be crazy enough to just open the lieutenant’s door without asking, so there was no need for concern.

So, you quietly open the door and push it open, taking a peek inside. It’s unlikely he’s asleep, even at this hour, but you don’t want to wake him up in the case he is. You’re met with a pair of eyes looking at you as your head slowly peeks inside, but they aren’t the caramel brown ones you’re used to seeing in the low light of the room. Instead, you’re staring into the soft blue-gray eyes of the one and only John Price, your captain.

If that wasn’t surprising enough, Ghost was there too, but his back was to the door as he sits between Price’s thighs, doing what you could only think is… giving his captain a blowjob. You can’t be fully sure, of course; Ghost is a big guy and he’s blocking off most of Price’s lower half with his large frame, but judging from the way his head is bobbing up and down, it’s hard to think of anything else he could be doing.

All you can do is stand there, eyes wide in disbelief. You had to be dreaming, right? This couldn’t possibly be real. Right?

You mouth out a ‘sorry,’ before starting to back out of the room, but Price stops you with a hand motion, beckoning you further inside. Somehow, he manages to compel you into walking inside fully and shutting the door behind you as quietly as possible, locking it and effectively sealing your fate. You’re not sure entirely what that fate may be, but the quiet sound of the lock clicking shut sounded eerily similar to that of a judge’s gavel dropping onto his bench, an intimidating sound indeed.

For a moment, you stand there awkwardly, shifting from one foot to the other and just watching your best friend sucking off your superior casually as can be. You swallow past the lump in your throat when Price threads his fingers through Ghost’s short, dirty blonde hair, an act so intimate that it feels even weirder to witness than the rest of what’s happening in this very moment.

After a few more tense moments of you watching the spectacle in front of you, Price gently pulls Ghost away from his cock and gives him a small, yet warm smile. You can’t see Ghost’s face, but the way he relaxes and slumps forward a bit, you can tell he’s having just as much of a good time as his captain is. Price mumbles something to him and he nods, leaning into the hand on the back of his head.

You’re about to start sneaking out of the room again before Price meets your eyes again. At this point, Ghost finally notices the captain’s fleeting glances over his shoulder and he turns to see what he was looking at. You freeze, your whole body stiffening up when his eyes finally meet yours. You expect him to get angry with you, to shout at you to get out and not come back, but none of that happens. In fact, his gaze travels down your body and his gaze darkens with something that looks like lust.

“I-I, um…” You glance back at the door. “I’ll just go, I’m so sorry for barging in—”

“Stay.”

Ghost’s command stops you in your tracks and you stand frozen in place again, waiting for some kind of indication of what the two of them wanted from you. Did they actually want you to stay and watch whatever this was? You don’t get to question it much longer since Price looks at you expectantly and motions you over with a tilt of his head. Reluctantly, you approach the two and wait for another command.

Price pats the spot next to him on the bed and you sit there, hands in your lap and fiddling with each other nervously. His hand comes to rest on your lower back, a comforting gesture. “You’re free to leave if you’d like,” he says quietly, making sure you were looking at him before continuing. “But, we’d love to have you.”

Now, you were no stranger to fantasizing about your team members every now and then. You figure that was at least a bit expected, considering you were surrounded by a group of handsome men in their prime, but you knew nothing would come from it. So this can’t possibly be real. It just can’t be. You’re sitting on a bed with your captain—who has his cock out and standing proud—looking at your friend sitting between his legs with wet lips from having just been sucking him off. This was far beyond any of the offhand scenarios you’ve brewed up in your head during your many late nights in a number of safehouses all across the world.

You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to indulge in whatever they had planned for you.

“I don’t want to leave,” you say with certainty, though your voice still shook ever so slightly. Price gives you a kind smile when you speak your consent, then his eyes shift from you to Ghost. “Does that sound good to you, sunshine?” The way Ghost responds so readily to the nickname is endearing, so much softer than you ever imagined Ghost could be. He looks so relaxed like this, so content to be looked down upon so lovingly. It makes you wonder what exactly their relationship is, but you don’t ask simply because it would likely take a long time to explain it fully. Just this few minutes of bearing witness to the dynamic displays such complexity you doubt you could ever understand.

The fact they want you here for it is flattering, to say the least.

Price taps your back to grab your attention. “How about you sit down there with him and stroke him for me?” You nod and Ghost watches you intently as you slide off the bed and settle behind him. Your nerves start to get to you again as you begin to realize the barrier you were about to breach.

Ghost can sense your stiffness and he reaches back to run a hand up and down your thigh. You shiver and shuffle a little closer to him, pressing yourself against his back fully. His touch gave you confidence, letting you slide your hands around his waist and he hums appreciatively at the contact.

“Go on and get his cock out, love,” Price instructs, but it sounds nothing like the firm tone you usually hear him use when he’s giving out orders. No, his voice is smooth, like a warm velvet sheet draping over you. In a way, it’s even more compelling than his more authoritative tone.

So, you do as he asks. Ghost makes a small noise in the back of his throat when your tentative hands palm his cock through his joggers. The size of him makes your breath hitch and you wonder if you’ll even manage to wrap your hand all the way around him with how thick his dick was. He lays his hand on top of yours, his fingers laying on the back of your hand. Slowly, you reach into his pants and boxers, your hand coming into contact with the soft skin of his hefty cock. He was just the slightest bit wet from a mix of his precum and sweat.

With a slight shake to your hand, you manage to maneuver his hard-on out of his pants and use your sense of touch to visualize what it might look like since you can’t see over his broad shoulders. It’s about as large as you imagined it would be with a couple thick veins along the underside, perfect to trace your fingers along. He shudders and sighs at the pleasant feeling of you doing just that, his head tilting back.

Price runs a hand through Ghost’s hair again to get his eyes back open and focused on him. “You ready to finish up what you started, sunshine?”

“Yes, sir,” Ghost mumbles, leaning into his touch. Price hums his approval, gently pulling his head forward and letting Ghost resume his worshiping of his cock.

You watch, enraptured by his ministrations. Your hand starts to tug at Ghost’s cock, pulling back his foreskin and rolling your palm over the tip to spread the slow drizzle of precum leaking from his cock. It punches out a grunt from him and his hips jump.

After a while, there’s spit coating his chin and dripping down his neck as a result of him taking Price’s cock so obediently. The wet sucking noises coming from his throat had your sex throbbing along with your heartbeat. Seeing Ghost so open and calm was a beautiful sight to see, and mixed with the way Price was looking down at the both of you with such reverence made it even more fulfilling.

Ghost is twitching in your hand, but he’s so good at holding himself back. You imagine anyone else having as much fun as he was would’ve finished by now, but not him. He’s still moaning up a storm though, his chest rumbling against your free hand. He shifts under your touch and takes hold of your hand and slides it under his shirt, putting it on his bare stomach. You get the message and start to paw at the soft layer of fat covering his muscles, tensed up because of the pleasure bubbling up beneath the base of his cock.

Price is grunting now too, praises and encouraging words falling from his lips, spurring Ghost on with a deep, needy moan. He sighs contentedly and extends his hand past Ghost’s hair and onto the top of your head, his fingers rubbing circles into your scalp. “You’re doing well, too, love. Taking such good care of our boy,” he says with a soft smile.

Our boy. Our boy. Something about that made your heart swell and the heat between your legs grow. You have to squeeze your thighs together to keep yourself satisfied, having gone neglected for what felt like ages. A quiet whimper builds up in the back of your throat. Price chuckles at that and he looks down at Ghost. “You’re going to return the favor, aren’t you Simon?” Ghost nods the best he can with Price’s cock in his mouth and a wave of anticipation rolls through you.

You glance up from where you were looking straight forward to see Price’s hips buck upwards, making Ghost gag with a wet choking sound. It only seems to make him more eager and he grabs one of his captain’s thighs to steady himself, giving him more leverage to take him even further down his throat. Tears start to roll down his cheeks from the exertion and you see the wetness on Price’s fingers when he tenderly wipes Ghost’s cheeks clean. “Don’t push yourself too hard, sunshine.”

You chance running a hand up Ghost’s stomach, giving him time to pull you away if he wished, but all you feel is his abs tightening under your touch.

Ghost sucks a quick breath in through his nose when you stroke him with a bit more fervor and he grabs your wrist with his other hand. His thighs shake and a shudder falls down his spine; he’s getting close. He groans around the dick in his throat, thrusting into your hand to meet it halfway. He moans around Price’s cock and you feel him throbbing in your palm.

Within a few more strokes he’s shooting his load out onto the floor and your hand, shuddering at the overwhelming feeling of you working him through his climax. He takes a deep, open-mouthed breath when Price pulls him away from his cock, now flushed bright red and glistening from Ghost’s drooling mouth. It registers for you at that point that Ghost wasn’t sucking cock for his captain’s pleasure, but for his own. This dynamic of theirs was much more… complex that you originally thought.

You rest against Ghost’s back and he leans back into you. Price’s fingers are running through his cropped dark blonde hair while he catches his breath. You can’t fully hear all of the murmured praises Price is offering Ghost, but you can tell there’s a gentleness there that was surprising coming from the two gruffest men you’ve had the pleasure of meeting.

A large hand comes to rest on your thigh and you jolt a bit, having been caught up in the second-hand feeling of warmth that was radiating from the pair. Ghost’s hand runs up and down your thigh, his nails scraping along the fabric of your pants just a bit, giving you chills. His voice is more gravelly than normal and you can hear the smirk in his voice when he utters his promise, “Your turn.”

𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

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delopsia · 4 months

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love all the older rhett this older bob that but do you know what i really really reallyyyy want? older rhett and older bob at the same time

Every gear in my head just came to a screeching halt, Jesus christ.

Oh, to be the controversially younger s/o of Admiral Robert Floyd and Pro Bullrider Rhett Abbott 😔✌ could you IMAGINE?

The whispers that follow as you mosey into the Hard Deck in some cute little outfit that breaks every Navy regulation imaginable, intentionally too short to get under Bobby's skin. Nobody's got the slightest clue who you are, where you came from, or who your heart might belong to, but oh, they're trying to get your attention. For a moment, the bar is loud.

But then you're walking right up to Admiral Floyd and planting yourself in his big, warm lap, and the room deflates. Scandalized whispers and wide eyes eating up the way your fingers comb through the whisps of gray in his hair. Bob knows what they're all thinking, and yet all he cares about is showing you off. This pretty thing snuggled up in his lap, playing with his hair while his big hand rubs up and down your thigh.

Oh, but that's not the end of it because there's an arena a few miles away hosting the PBR that night, and everyone is going. It's the one new, fun event of the year, and it's got the attention of the whole town. Eyes are already on you after your stunt at the bar. Even as you settle down in the bleachers, you can feel those nameless pilots paying attention to your every move.

Then Rhett fucking Abbott, rough and tumble cowboy who's been making headlines for his looks all season, comes bursting out of the chute. Rides some beast of a bull to his eight seconds, disappears for a few rides, then reappears up in the stands. Him and his salt and pepper scruff, kissing up on you and Bobby, big hands squeezing your hip and Bob's lithe waist.

Ugh, it's all over a local news outlet the next morning, and both men are so damn well established that nobody can do a damn thing about it. It would take three to pick up Bob's workload, and not one of those bull riders has been able to match Rhett's latest records. And they know it.

But they're so good with you. Protective but not overly so, the power lies in your hands, and they're more than content to fall into the places you need them to. Whether that be shouldering forward to have a word with someone who's been bugging you at the bar or sitting back and watching over you as you handle it yourself.

Sometimes, they struggle to keep up with your terms and references, but they do try their best to make up for the age gap. It makes for an interesting dynamic; their biggest worry is accidentally alienating you, which ends in countless movie nights so that you can understand each other's jokes. Introducing Rhett to modern applications and begging Bob to quit with the highly technical terms. Neither you nor Rhett understand what he's saying, and if he explains, it only gets worse.

Bob spoils you rotten; he's got more money than he knows what to do with, and you get whatever your pretty little heart wants. You haven't paid for a damn thing in years; you've tried, but even if you slip past the detection of one, you're caught in the crosshairs of the other.

On his long days, he'll send you and Rhett off shopping with his card, and you two always get up to something. It's been three months since Rhett sent that video of your pretty hips rolling against Rhett's new boots, biting at his thigh, whispering something that sounded like a plea for Bob to come home early.

Sometimes, he winds up with lewd photos of you riding Rhett in your new lingerie. Then there was that one time you two got an old Polaroid camera, stuffed the photos into a cute box, and sent it to his work to be delivered to him at his desk. That one ended in you and Rhett both limping, but it was so, so worth it. You're already working on your second batch of photos.

Rhett isn't as financially well-off, can't buy you all the bells and whistles, but he kisses you half to death and whispers the prettiest praises in your ears. He's snuggling you when you're both missing Bobby, and he's leaving you sweet messages while he's on a rodeo circuit, mailing small things that remind him of you and Bob. A hand-carved figurine of three running horses, hand-knit blankets from small-town shops.

Drives you two damn near mad with all those photos of his hard cock straining against his jeans, grunts your names over and over and over as he gets himself off to the sight of you and Bobby on his screen.

He loves making you two ride him. Whispering about how, "Want this ol' cowboy to teach ya how to ride, hm?" and making you work for it until your thighs are shivering. Draws you down to fall into his chest as he fucks up into you, too damn strong for his own good.

If you happen to be gone, then your phone never shuts up. They're a mess. One minute, you're rolling your eyes at a POV video of Rhett chasing Bob around the backyard for stealing his popsicle. The next, you're praying nobody overhears hears the secondary video of Rhett railing Bobby into the mattress, muttering about how "this coulda been you, but you're so far away, babydoll."

Its when you're together all at once, that you fully wear each other out. You would think they'd tire easily, but they could go for hours if they want to.

Sometimes they'll take turns with you, pumping you full of their cum and stepping back to let the other play with you for a while. At some point you have to tap out, batting their fingers away when they try to push it back into your spent pussy. It always ends in a need to change the sheets, because they make such a damn mess.

They're equally willing to let you take full control. Sitting on their knees at the foot of the bed, letting you haul them around by their hair and content to follow your every order. The sight of such powerful men at their most vulnerable is something else entirely.

But the best times are when you wake up snuggled between their big, warm bodies. Two pairs of blue eyes smiling fondly at the sight of you yawning, nuzzling into Rhett's broad chest, pulling Bob's arm tighter around you, asking for a few more minutes.

They both love you to death and will show you off as much as you'll allow of them. If you want to perch yourself on their arms for a big-title navy event or a PBR after-party, then that's what you'll get to do. But if you'd prefer to stay home, then they'll move heaven and earth to make sure they can share that with you, too. Regardless of the differences and the gaps between your ages, you'll be wrapped up in these two old men for a long, long time.

#im gonna walk into a church and burst into flames #rhett abbott #robert bob floyd #bob floyd #bob floyd x reader x rhett abbott #tw age gap

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footprintsinthesxnd · 1 year

Text

Promise Me

Pairings: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x female reader

Warnings: failed relationship, miscarriage, angst, alcohol abuse, car accident

I’ve written this for @callsign-phoenix Sophie’s 1k follower challenge using the prompt ‘Hangman’s Hangover’.

“How many of those has he had,” Phoenix asked, aiming her pool cue towards Hangman. He was sitting at the bar surrounded by empty glasses, and his hair was a mess, not in its usual neatly gelled state. He had dark shadows under his blue eye and the gray tracksuit wasn’t doing him any favors.

“I have no clue but I have a feeling one of us is going to have to carry him home,” Coyote grunted, taking the cue from Phoenix.

“I’m not even sure what he’s drinking now. He started with whiskey but since then he’s had vodka and god knows what.” Bob chimed in, popping another peanut into his mouth as he watched his friends play.

“This has really done a number on him,” Coyote mumbled.

“They lost a child, Coyote. They are both hurting and I don’t blame them. Do you remember how excited he was when she was pregnant?” They all thought back to that day when Jake came running into the Hangman, the biggest grin on his face and waving a small piece of paper. It was the sonogram and he’d carried it in his flight suit ever since.

“Yeah but they didn’t need to break up over it.” Coyote grumbled, he never understood that if they loved each other and needed each other so much why they broke up.

Phoenix sighed, “They're just processing their grief differently and it's hard on both of them. She is just as broken up about this as he is.” Phoenix glared at her fellow aviator displeased.

“I know it's not her fault. I didn’t mean I like that. I can’t even begin to imagine what they’re going through,” he sighed. “I just hate seeing him like this.”

“We all do Javy,” Phoenix explained, “I just know that both of our friends are hurting and they need us.” She set the cue down on the pool table, abandoning the game. “I think I’m gonna call it a night. I’m gonna check in with her on my way home.”

Bob and Coyote waved her goodbye and watched as she placed a gentle hand on Jake’s back before leaving.

“You’re up Bob,” Coyote said, leaning across the table smirking as he took another shot.

“What!” Bob's expression resembled a deer in the headlights, a few peanuts escaping from the cup and rolling down his uniform.

“Well I spent all of last week helping him home and he was sick in my car. Do you know how long it took me to get the smell out?”

Bob's face crumpled a little and he wrinkled his nose at the thought of Jake vomiting in his car. He’d never really liked Jake, he had been a dick to him ever since their first meeting before the uranium mission and he always managed to find a way to pick on him. But looking at his fallen comrade now, Bob couldn’t have felt more sympathetic, he loved you both dearly and he felt your pain.

Having been as thick as thieves since your Top Gun training, you had started dating shortly after. You were the kind of couple that everyone wanted to be, so in sync with each other, you knew what the other would do before they had even thought of it. It was the kind of love Bob had always wanted, the kind of love from movies that he’d seen as a kid. He was convinced that you would get married after the uranium mission especially once you’d found out you were pregnant. Jake had been ecstatic and had even promised to make Bob the baby’s Godfather. He smiled at the thought of that day, everyone had been celebrating at the Hard Deck, even Mav was there raising a toast to the newest member of the Dagger Squad.

Bob’s face fell as he thought back to the fateful nights two weeks ago. It had been carnage. The couple had been in a car accident on the way back from a party and Maverick and Penny’s house. A drunk driver came out of nowhere and rammed them clean off the road. Jake came away mostly unscathed but you had taken a direct hit from the car on your side and was left with a broken collarbone and multiple broken ribs. The baby hadn’t survived and when you had both needed each other most you just couldn’t stand to see each other so hurt. After fighting like mad, eventually the doctors advised that Jake stopped coming to visit. That was the last time Jake had seen you and since that day spent most of the time at the bar drowning his sorrow.

Bob sighed, placing his empty cup of peanuts down and headed towards where Jake was sitting.

“Hey Bagman, mind if I sit here?” He gestured to the bar stall next to him. Jake mumbled something and Bob took that as an invitation to sit down. “What you got there.” Bob pointed towards his single glass that was no longer surrounded by others. Penny must have tidied up, Bob thought to himself.

“I don’t know,” Jake replied, expressionlessly.

“What do you mean you don’t know,” Bob asked worriedly. How much had he drunk?

“Well, Penny wanted to clean up the glasses so I poured it all into one.” He slurred, waving his hand over the glass. “I got whiskey and vodka. I think there’s some beer in there too and I had tequila. Oh, and I had a gin and tonic earlier too.”

“Shit Jake, what’s that a recipe for a ‘Hangman hangover?”

The other pilot snorted and downed the rest of the glass, pulling a face at the foul taste. He stood up from the bar stool, wobbling slightly and Bob grabbed his arm to support him. “Come on, Jake. Let’s get you home ok.”

“No Bobby, I don’t want to go home.” His lip began quivering as Bob carefully guided him out to his car and got him seated in the front seat. “Please don’t leave me, Bobby. I don’t want to be alone. Please don’t leave me.” He started sobbing into the sleeve of Bob’s jacket and Bob pulled him close. Jake gripped onto him like he was a life raft in the middle of the ocean and he didn’t want to let go. Bob could feel all the tension leaving Jake’s body as he cried, burying his head into the crook of Bob’s neck. The two men embraced like this for a while, neither wanting to let go too soon. When Jake eventually pulled away, he looked up at his fellow aviator with teary eyes. “Please can I come home with you, Bob? I promise not to be a dick to you and I'll try my best not to be sick in your car.” He hiccuped and for a moment Bob thought he looked like a child pleading with his parents, he looked so innocent.

“Sure thing Bud,” was all Bob could muster, helping Hangman swing his leg into the car and doing up his seat belt, before going round to the driver's side.

The drive home was quiet, Bob kept watching as Jake became more and more green but kept promising he wouldn’t be sick. When they reached Bob’s apartment, Jake was straight out of the car and vomited on the pavement outside his house. “I’m so sorry Bob,” he almost cried, continuing to wretch even though his stomach was empty.

“It’s fine Jake. Don’t worry.” Bob helped the other man up the drive and through the front door, aiming him straight for the bedroom. Jake collapsed onto Bob’s bed with a sigh while he went to retrieve a towel and bucket. When Bob returned Jake was asleep and he had to try and roll the larger man onto his side next to the bucket. He pulled off Jake’s shoes and his jeans, leaving him in his T-shirt and boxers. He looked so peaceful when he slept, Bob thought. He retreated to the door and was about to go out when Jake stirred. “Bob, will you stay with me for a while?” He called out softly. Bob stood in the doorway debating his options before agreeing and sitting beside Jake on the bed. Jake rolled over so that he had his head resting on Bob's leg. Bob tensed slightly unsure of what to do so he just sat with his arms crossed, listening as Jake talked.

“I’m so lost without her Bobby. She was my everything and we were so happy. I…” He sniffled and wiped his nose with his hand. “I don’t know what to do without her. I was a dickhead and I don’t know why. Everything just hurt so bad and I ended up losing both of them.” A steady stream of tears began following down his cheeks. Bob placed a gentle hand on the man’s shoulder, comfortingly. “I don’t know what to do.” Jake continued to talk quietly and Bob listened.

“Bob, can I get you to promise me something?” He looked up at him, the hurt evident in his eyes.

“Sure thing, Jake.”

“Promise me that if you ever love someone as much as I love her, promise me you’ll never let her go. Promise me, Bob.” More tears began to fall from Jake’s eyes and he lay his head back on Bob’s leg.

“I promise, Bagman.”

The two men continued to sit in silence until he could hear soft snores leaving Jake's mouth. He wriggled out from under his fellow pilot and made his way out of the room quietly. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he called phoenix.

“Hey Bob,” she whispered when she answered.

“Hey Nat, I’m sorry I know it's late,” he began.

“No, it's fine. Don’t worry. She’s only just gone to sleep.” He could hear Phoenix shuffling around at the other end of the phone before her voice became louder.

“She’s a mess, Bob.”

“Bob sighed, “ Yeah, so is Jake. I’ve got him at my place and all he’s done is cry since we left the bar. I don’t know what to do?”

“We need to do something. I can't keep watching them go through this.” Phoenix sighed. “I think we need to get them to see each other again. To talk through everything.”

Bob agreed quietly, trying to think of a way they could get their two friends back together.

“How about you come by my place with Bagman tomorrow afternoon? I'll get her to come over and we can see if they’ll talk to each other.”

“That’s a good plan, Nat. Thanks.”

“No worries, Bobby. It’s a date.” She laughed at Bob tripping over his words on the other. “I’m joking, Bob. I'll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Bob laughed awkwardly. “See you tomorrow, Nat.” The two pilots hung up the phone and Bob sat on the sofa. Maybe they could get Jake and you to work through this, after all, they had the kind of love from a movie.

Tag list: @callsign-phoenix @imjess-themess @blue-aconite @averyhotchner @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @a-reader-and-a-writer @topguncortez @luckyladycreator2 @ssprayberrythings @smoothdogsgirl @xoxabs88xox @maggiescarborough @callsignmaverick5 @alexxavicry @abaker74 @elenavampire21

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