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ohbo-ohno · 9 months

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don't leave me locked in your heart (chap 1) - ghost x soap x reader

summary: Soap sees you dancing at a bar and decides you'd make the perfect anniversary present for Ghost, so he tempts you into going home with him one night and simply… doesn't let you leave in the morning.

word count: 11.9k

cw: NONCON!!!! dark!!! noncon somnophilia, kidnapping, noncon gags and bondage, rough sex, oral sex, the sex goes from consensual to dubcon to noncon, first chapter is almost entirely soap/reader

chapter 2/2 here, read on ao3, see the pinterest board

You've been dancing with the same man for the last three drinks. You haven't seen his face yet - you're a bit scared to turn around at this point, having built him up in your head so much that you're expecting no less than a modern Adonis - but his hands are rough and confident, and he certainly knows how to move his hips against yours. He's got some sort of sixth sense for how to drive you the most insane to the beat of every song, and you can only hope you have the same effect on him (which if the hardness against the small of your back is anything to go by, you do).

Every time you dip off the dance floor for another drink, he's right there waiting when you get back. You never see him, can't figure out which of the writhing bodies he must be, but within less than a minute of being back with your refill his hands are running up your hips again.

You might not know it was the same man if he didn't have the most distinct scent you've ever smelt on someone. Cigarette smoke, and a clashing air of what has got to be two separate colognes - wood and pine but also lemon and... you want to say basil. Regardless, it's distinct and strong, even in the packed crowd. All he has to do is tuck you into him long enough for you to inhale once and you know your partner's back.

You figure you'll see if he wants to go home with you. In a few more songs.

For now, you keep dancing. Hips grinding into his along with the heavy bass of the music, free hand following both of his as they track up your stomach, rolling your face into his cheek where his chin is hooked over your shoulder, eyes shut as you lose yourself in the movement and the music.

At the end of the song you quickly down the rest of your drink, eager to have both hands free, and pass it off onto the tray of some poor waiter who's decided to cut through the crowd instead of going around.

The man behind you straightens again as the song changes, his movements slowing to match the new tempo, chin grazing the back of your head now (and oh the idea of how big he must be sends a shiver up your spine).

You place your hands on the outside of his thighs, feel the rough denim tight around his muscular legs and dig your nails in. His chest rumbles against your back and his next grind is harsher, so you drag your nails up, up, up, stroking his sides, his shoulders, and finally wrapping your hands around the back of his neck.

He bends down a bit, for your sake, and tucks his face into your neck. You feel lips moving over the column of your throat, tongue and teeth skimming the sensitive skin for just a second.

You hum, the buzz settled over your brain making everything feel so lush and good and explore with your hands for a bit. You don't have much range of motion, but through just a bit of searching you figure out he's got a mohawk, one just grown out enough for you to wrap your fingers in and pull. Which, of course, you do.

Your mystery man lets out a groan, one that you can't hear but can feel as he bites down and shakes his head, just a bit. The animalistic movement tugs a high whine out of your chest, and the whole process repeats again - each tug harsher, each bite stronger. You worry you'll soak right through your panties at the rate the two of you are going.

Two songs later, your partner growing increasingly touchy as you stroke his hair and neck, you're spun around suddenly. You stumble a bit, teetering on your sky high heels, but his arms grip just beneath your ribs to steady you. You glance up sharply, eyes narrowing.

The first thing you see is a smirk.

He's handsome, your partner. Certainly no Adonis - he's far too... rough around the edges for that - but an undeniably good looking man. His mohawk is a deep brown, matching scruff on his cheeks (not enough to be a beard but enough to scratch against your skin), dark blue eyes that crinkle at the edges, thick and dark eyebrows, a strong jaw and a strong nose. All handsome pieces that fit into a puzzle just slightly off on this man, like a grid moved one unit to the left. His nose has a bump on it that you can only assume is from being broken one too many times, a scar bisects the edge of his left eyebrow and stretches almost to his eye, and his eyes are dark with an unmistakable hunger where they bore into yours.

He's just your type.

You let yourself go a little loose, lean more of your weight into his hands and rest yours against his pecs. Your nails dig in just a bit, to see if there's any give. There isn't much - he must be muscular under the tight black shirt he's wearing. You glance down quickly, to see if maybe you can get a peek at his physique, and sure enough his shirt rides up just enough that you can see a sliver of taut muscle. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you drag your eyes back to his.

"Hi, lovie," the man says, cocky grin on his lips as he strokes up to your ribs and down again. A little girlish giggle bubbles in your throat, and you tell yourself it's the alcohol that makes the cheesy nickname work.

"Hey yourself," you murmur back, equally cheesy. It must work for him as well as it did for you, considering how much his smile grows.

He has fucking dimples. Dear lord.

He dips his head down to you, tugging your body further into his and moving his hips to the faster beat of the new song. You're almost resting against him, his thick thigh squeezed between your legs and your weight pressed against his chest. Still, you do your best to gyrate along with him.

"'M Johnny," he says, forehead pressed against yours, eye contact still unbroken.

You breathe out your name in return, hips jutting against the thickness of his thigh where it rests against your aching core. He repeats your name, then pushes his leg up just a bit more with a smirk on his lips. You tip forward a bit, biting his chest through his shirt in response.

He only groans, one hand dropping to the small of your back to force you into a deeper arch.

"Want you to come home with me tonight, lass. You wan' that too?" His accent - Scottish, it's like some angel shaped him perfectly for you - has thickened as your dance continued. His head dips to your throat again, mouthing at the think skin just below your ear. He keeps speaking before you can answer his question, almost muttering to himself at this point. "Promise I'll take good care of you, give you the best night of your life, give you everythin' you've ever wanted. That sound good, baby?"

"Jo-Johnny," you gasp out, hand weakly patting at his chest as your grinding hips bring you closer and closer to a peak you're not sure you want to reach in the middle of the dance floor. "Please, please take me home with you?"

His breath hitches right beneath your ear, then you feel his lips stretch into a smile, feel teeth pressed against you. "Yeah? Want me to take you and fuck you good, huh, lovie?"

You let out a little whine, tugging at his hair as you continue to rut against him, becoming more and more uncoordinated as his hand presses harder against your spine to encourage you.

"Hm, how about you go ahead and come for me now, lass? A little warm up, to show you how good tonight'll be." You keen plaintively at the words, tucking your head into his neck to hide your face, and he rumbles against you. "Yeah, just like that. C'mon, come for me pretty girl."

He slips a hand up your dress, the one not keeping you in an arch, and his finger dips confidently past your panties to tweak your swollen clit. His breathing grows heavier against you, but his fingers don't falter, strumming at you over and over until you go stiff with a full body shudder. You bite down onto his neck to keep from crying out, but he doesn't bother to smother the deep groan from his chest.

Before you've fully recovered, Johnny's pulling you off the dance floor, hand locked around your elbow to keep you from falling. Your knees nearly knock together as you try to keep up with him, still more than a little dazed.

This isn't like you. You've always been hyper selective with the men you take home, never gone out without telling someone, certainly never let anyone get you off in public. But as you follow this Scot out of the bar, vision hazy from the alcohol and the orgasm, you can't find a single piece of you that worries this might not be the right choice. Every part of you clambers for more of him, and you're not in any mood to deny yourself. Surely you've earned a bit of reckless fun.

Johnny glances over his shoulder, his dopey smile breaking you out of your thoughts. You can't help but smile back, snuggling into him when he tucks you under his arm as you finally step into the cool night air.

-----

You thrash your head against the door, eyes rolled back in ecstasy and mouth dropped open as Johnny licks desperately at your cunt, lacy black panties left loose around one ankle.

He's almost nasty about it, hand gripping your thigh so tightly you know there'll be pretty finger-shaped bruises come morning, slobbering so much that you can't tell how much of the wetness between your legs is your slick and how much is his spit. His head is ducked beneath your dress so you can't see his expression, but you can feel his moans and groans against your core. He's got to be just as into it as you are, if the thrusting motion of his hips is anything to go by.

He's driving you insane. Two fingers buried deep inside you, thrusting as quickly as his tongue flicks over your clit, leaving you panting and quivering. Every few moments he wraps his teeth very lightly around your clit, gives the bud a quick but soft squeeze and rumbles deep in his throat, and every time you shout with pleasure. He moans along with you, pulling his fingers out fully to bury his tongue in your hole, groaning again as he sucks down as much of your taste as he can. When you give a sharp yank of his hair in response he's quick to stuff you again - three fingers this time - and go back to sucking on your clit like it's his favorite candy.

It doesn't take long for him to get you off. His clever tongue, the punishing pace of his fingers, and the evidence of his own desperation have you coming less than five minutes into the whole ordeal, loud moans spilling through slack lips, uncaring of thin walls or anyone unfortunate enough to be in the hallway.

Once he deems you finished he leans back on his heels, grinning up at you with a mixed expression of pride and smugness, jaw and lips absolutely soaked from his ministrations.

"You taste delicious, lass. Can't wait to do that again, but I need my cock in you soon or I might fuckin' die," he chuckles. You can't believe he's capable of being so nonchalant when you're not sure you could form a full sentence in your current state, especially considering the very obvious bulge in the front of his jeans, the one he finally grinds his hand on when he catches you looking.

You hum a bit, running a hand through his mohawk and scratching your nails lightly across his scalp. His eyes drift shut and he leans into the touch, hips rutting into his own hand, the big scary Scotsman made soft by a few pets. You don't feel so thrown off by your inability to speak anymore.

He stands after a few moments, and you're reminded of how big he is. Without your heels you just come up to his shoulders, and his shoulders themselves are wider than your body. You could hide behind this man, completely invisible, and it makes you wetter than you would've ever imagined.

"C'mon, darling," he grunts, locking his hands beneath your thighs and confidently lifting you. You wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, luxuriating in his warmth as he presumably moves the two of you to his room. You kiss up his throat, sucking little love bites into his tanned flesh and smirking at the responding squeeze of his hands against you.

Johnny drops you rather unceremoniously onto his bed, and you can't help but laugh a bit as you bounce. He steps away for just a moment to turn a lamp resting on the bedside table on, then goes to turn off the overhead light so you're both bathed in a warm glow. You watch the way his jeans hug his ass as he moves, then can't move your eyes back to his in time as he moves around.

He smiles at you, the arrogant man. "Likin' the view, hen?"

You just leans back on your elbows, humming a note in your throat as you try and lay as seductively as possible in your rucked up dress.

His smile is one of pure sin as he steps back to the edge of the bed and tugs his shirt off before reaching down to undo his belt. You stare for a moment before wiggling out of the tight dress you'd worn, blindly throwing it across the room.

His eyes light up when he sees you weren't wearing a bra, a groan bubbling out of his chest as he reaches to paw at your tit with one hand and continues to undo his belt with the other. He hardly gives you a chance to look at him (more accurately, the show he's giving with that fucking belt) as he crawls on top of you, fingers twisting harshly at the nipple he's already got a hold of.

He dips his head down to yours for a kiss, and you gladly give it to him. You feel your slight nervousness disappear as he reciprocates your desperation through he kiss, lips eager and tongue searching. He's drooling against you, spit dribbling into your mouth as he grinds against your stomach and plucks at your nipple.

You whine high in your throat, writhing beneath him. The tug at your breast begins to hurt as he pinches and pulls, but you grow all the more slick between your thighs.

After what feels like an eternity of the most erotic make-out session you've ever experienced, you clumsily drag a hand up to push at his forehead so you can get a deep breath in.

Before you can really even pull away, his free hand shoots up to pin your wrist beside your head, fingers tight around the delicate bones as he nips punishingly at your lips.

There's a part of you - buried beneath the lust-driven haze, probably - that gets a little freaked out over his tight hold. But the part of you in control, the horny part, loves being pinned and moans high in your throat.

A moment later Johnny pulls away from your lips, staring deep into your eyes. He seems to be looking for something, but you can't do much more than blink up at him in the state he's left you. After he's found whatever it is he wanted, he smiles down at you and dips quickly to land kisses all over your face.

You giggle again, body cooling just enough for you to feel more in control as his hands move to rest beside your head. "Johnny," you laugh as he nuzzles his nose into your cheek.

"Yeah, lovie?" he murmurs, smile audible in his voice.

You hiccup a bit when his hands come to rest on your breasts, cupping them and running his thumbs across the undersides. "Johnny, need you," you hum.

"Hm?" He murmurs, shifting so he's kneeling above your torso, focused on your tits now instead of your face. "Whatcha need from me? Huh? Need me to play with these pretty nipples some more?" He leans down, nipping playfully at your hard peaks as you beging to squirm. He moves from one to the other, driving you mad with the sharp clip of his teeth and the warm wetness of his tongue.

"No-ooo," you gasp out at a particularly hard bite. "Need- need your- " You're cut off when he pinches both of nipples at once, twisting them and pulling up until the spark of pain pushes just past pleasurable. "Ah!"

"What was that, lassie?" With tears blurring your vision, you swear his smirk is mean this time. "I can't give you what you want if I don't know what it is." He lets go of your left breast, reaching up to give you a few little taps on your cheek, enough to rattle your brain. "So, what'll it be, lovie? What do you need from me?"

"C-cock, Johnny, need your cock," you groan, knees hitching around his hips and torso writhing as you try to free your throbbing nipple from his captive hold.

He grins down at you, loosens his fingers and strokes over the painful bud at your long whine. "There we go, sweetheart. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

Johnny shifts his grip to your armpits, and all you can do is blink a bit in shock as he hauls you up and puts you where he wants you. Which is, evidently, leaning against the few flat pillows he's got at the top of his bed. He mutters to himself as he lays you out, calloused hands spreading your knees and pushing your ankles up, up, up, only stopping when you whine at the stretch.

"Wanna watch your face the first time - can't wait to get in that tight pussy, love. Can see you clenching on air from here, you poor thing. Just need something to stuff you, yeah? Need a thick cock for that pretty little cunt to squirt on? Hm? You gonna be be good and let me give you what you need, baby?"

His slew of filthy words drag you deeper and deeper under. By the time you'd made the walk to his place the buzz you'd gotten at the bar had almost entirely worn off (enough for you to even seriously question your choice for a moment), but you feel drunker now than you have all night.

Johnny reaches over once you're settled where he wants you, tugging the bedside table's drawer open and pulling out a small silver packet. You're momentarily stunned as he pulls the condom on, unable to believe that you were about to let this man - this stranger - fuck you without protection.

The thought flies out of your head when he leans back over you, hands stroking tenderly up the outside of your thighs and to your ribs, then back down again, a slow tease you only manage to handle a few seconds of.

"Johnny," you whine, reaching up to tug his face closer to you. He indulges you with a smile, hands stroking your inner thighs as he teases you with chaste kisses across your lips.

"You ready for me, baby?" He breathes against you, forehead against yours and eyes as intense as they've been all night.

You keen high in your throat, arching your back to thrust your pussy just that much more forward as the head of his cock brushes your clit. "Johnny," you repeat. "Need you. Please."

His smile only grows. "Anything for you, lovie."

You hadn't gotten a good look at it, but you can tell now that Johnny's cock is thick. You gasp and moan in tandem with him as the head spears you open, the burn of the stretch spurring you into humping what little he's got stuffed into you.

Johnny grunts, one hand smacking against the headboard and he other squeezing your thigh as he pushes his way inside, not giving you any time to adjust to the monstrosity his cock seems to be.

When his balls finally meet the backs of your thighs just moments later, you both let out loud groans. His head falls back and through the haze of your lust you admire his naked chest, leaning forward as much as you can to rake your hands through the small amount of hair there. A pair of dog tags rest high up, just below the hollow of his throat, and you give the necklace a little tug, trying to get him to move.

He hisses through his teeth, suddenly yanking himself almost entirely out of you. He stays there for a moment, just the tip of the tip still buried in your heat, and looks into your eyes. Again, like he's looking for something, but you have no idea what. If you did you'd show him immediately, you'd do whatever you needed to get him to fuck you in this moment.

And again, a moment later he seems to have found whatever he wanted. His lips twitch up and he hunches over you a bit, the hand not on the headboard moving up to the crease of your thigh.

"Ready?" He whispers, eyes darkened with the same lust you feel overtaking you.

All you can do is nod.

Your head barely makes the movement back up before he's slamming into you, knocking the breath out of you and your whole body back into the pillows. He's immediately relentless, animalistic thrusts that pound at your most sensitive spots.

You let out a wail, admittedly a little loud for an apartment, and the hand that was resting on the headboard snaps down to cover your mouth. His wild eyes meet yours, and Johnny growls low in his throat, baring his teeth as he pace quickens even more.

"God, wish I could hear you scream, love. Wish it more than anythin'. But we can't be gettin' a noise complaint, huh?" he says between huffs of breath. It gratifies you to know he's just as affected by this as you are. Your mouth opens beneath his palm and you lave your tongue out, stroking across the lines and callouses.

The action draws a deep groan from his chest and he straightens up, hand still over your mouth and pace not slowing a bit. His eyes are transfixed on where he's plowing into you, and after a moment of staring he ducks his head a bit and spits where the two of you meet, making the whole ordeal even messier.

The visual makes you moan against his hands, your own fingers squeezes desperately around his wrist as your singular hold on reality.

Johnny smiles at you, a cocky man who knows exactly how good he's fucking you. "Yeah, love? That feel good?" All you can do is nod, hardly able to hear him past the blood rushing in your ears and the squelching sound of your fucking. "Gonna come for me, then? Show me how good I make ya feel?"

You whine a desperate sound in your throat and tap your fingers urgently against his wrist, well aware of the fact that you very rarely come without at least some stimulation on your clit. Johnny's hand shifts to cup your cheek, thumb stroking over your lips.

"P-please, Johnny," you gasp out, eyes wet and wide. "Need- need you to touch my clit, please?"

Johnny's head drops to your shoulder as he moans low and loud. His lips shift to that sensitive spot below your ear as his hand moves to slide the heel of his hand over your clit. "Fuckin' love��to hear you beg, lovie. Can't get enough o' it."

The added stimulation of his rough grinds against your bud combined with the continued pace of his thrusts has you coming in what must be record time, every muscle tensing and a sharp "Ah!" tearing out of your throat as Johnny fucks you through it.

He doesn't cover your mouth this time, just leans his cheek heavily against yours and breaths in all the noises you can't trap. His free hand forces your knee down to the bed when you start to almost fight the strength of your climax. Your walls squeeze him so tightly he'd have been forced out of you had he not already been forcing himself in.

"God fucking damn it, lass, you're choking my cock," he groans, accent growing thicker the more he sinks into his own pleasure. "Such a good fuckin' girl, fuck."

"Yes, yes, feels so good, Johnny, so good," you babble thoughtlessly, feeling out of your mind with pleasure as the relentless pressure against your clit continues even after your orgasm.

"Yeah?" His voice is unsteady now, thrusts a little bit sloppy as he nears his own peak and you go limp beneath him. "You goin' cock drunk on me, lass? Huh? Yer losin' yer goddamn head on my dick, fuck, I'm not gonna last, love."

His hands move to your hips, thrusting you down at the same time he thrusts up, and you cry out in ecstasy, overstimulated and losing all ability to think past the massive cock bruising your pussy.

"Jo-Johnny!" you cry out, reaching another peak just on the tail of the last one, shocked by your own body. You jerk underneath him, nails leaving bright red lines down his pecs when you drag them violently down his torso.

His last few thrusts are the harshest yet, prolonging your sudden orgasm and bringing him to his own as he finally stills balls-deep inside you, letting out a deep groan into the juncture where your shoulder meets your neck.

The two of you lay there for a moment, slick with sweat and panting against each other as he slowly goes soft inside you. Johnny's nearly gone limp, and his weight is heavy in a comforting way against you, even if his hips spread yours just enough to strain your muscles.

He starts to move again after a moment, little aborted thrusts accompanied by whines and groans from him as he overstimulates the both of you. You reach a hand up to push at his forehead when it all verges on too much for you, but he's too out of it to realize and just keeps moving his hips, bumping your clit with each halting thrust and seemingly driving himself insane.

After a few moments of this you start to squirm, ready to pass out after a satisfying fuck. You whine his name, moving your hand from his face to the bottom of his mohawk. When he still doesn't stop, you wrap your fingers in his hair and tug, a sharp noise all you're capable of to communicate what you need.

He stills suddenly, then makes a sound you can only call a snarl, teeth latching onto the meat of your shoulder and digging in. The sudden and sharp pain draws a high pitched noise from your throat, and he jerks his head back and forth a bit as his hips punish you with a few sharp thrusts.

"Johnny!"

He pulls his head back, eyes locking with yours. Despite seeming more in control than you for most of the act, you can see now just how far gone he is. Johnny's mouth hangs open, drool dripping past his lips from his work against your skin, his eyes dark and hazy as he stares into yours. A few moments later he stills then then pulls out, drawing twin moans from the both of you.

Before you even know what's happening, you're flipped onto your stomach. You blink blearily at the wood in front of you, trying to push up on your hands and shifting your legs closed.

"No," Johnny growls from behind you. His right hand goes to your left shoulder, pulling you tight against his body where he grinds his dick and up down your soaked slit. His left hand clumsily forces your legs apart, just shoving your thighs open until you lose your balance and are forced to your elbows.

He thrusts there for a few moments, and to your surprise his cock gradually thickens, then grows hard in your slick. You've still hardly realized what's going on when he pulls his hips back, lines up his cock, and pushes back into you.

The two of you let out twin noises of pleasure - his tinged with desperation and yours with that spike of pain that comes from overstimulation.

Johnny fucks you just as hard this time as he did the first, but the position manes he's nearly fucking your cervix. Each thrust forces a sharp noise out of your throat, and this time he doesn't silence you. He uses his hold on your shoulder to really fuck you, so rough you're nearly sure his hips are leaving bruises against the back of your thighs.

Despite the undeniable pleasure coursing through you, the little sparks of pain from your clit bring you out of your daze a bit. Your hands fumble in front of you, jerking back and forth and back and forth along with the rest of your body as Johnny's pace stays strong. After a few moments of desperate searching you finally manage to grip what must be a slat in the headboard.

Feeling a little feral, you grab it tightly and tug yourself forward, away from the brutal cock trying rearrange your insides.

It's not the right choice. The slight resistance against Johnny's grip on you rips an angry noise from him. He slams a hand down on the back of your neck and wraps his fingers in your hair, forcing your face into the mattress and dragging you back by his relentless grip. You keen, high and pathetic, and his only response is a rumble deep in his throat.

He stills for a moment, buried deep inside you still, and you can feel him shifting around behind you. You blink the tears from your eyes and stare dazedly at the dark gray of his walls, feeling like one big throbbing ache. A moment later you see his foot land on the bed at the bottom of your vision, and the hand not holding you down forces you into an arch that borders on painful.

Face smushed into the mattress, chest and stomach nearly flat to the bed and hips canted high in the air, pussy swollen and leaking - you can't even image how much of a whore you must look like.

Johnny doesn't seem to care too much. He leans his weight against you, leveraging his body weight into his thrusts as he starts his violent movements again. His teeth lock onto your shoulder blade, pressure strong and sucking. Every thrust forces a little uh from your lips, and every noise from you just pushes him further.

He moves his bites every few thrusts, and you know your back will be decorated in bruises come morning. When he starts to really lose his mind, when the span of your shoulders is aching and wet from his spit, he leans his forehead into the center of your spine and adds more weight behind his thrusts, slowing down but forcing what feels like the entirety of his strength behind each one.

With his hips tilted slightly more downward he absolutely plows into the sensitive spot against your inner walls. The first time he hits it, you cry out a noise of pure pleasure and another "Johnny!". He pauses for a moment, then lets out a moan of his own at the tight grip of your cock and sets out to hit that spot on every thrust. You start to sob a bit, high pitched little wails coming from your lips as the pleasure becomes overwhelming while still not being enough for you to finish.

He seems to realize you're not coming anytime soon only a few thrusts later, and somewhere deep in your mind you wonder if the multiple shifts in angle are meant to be for your benefit. He growls again and you feel the hand on your back creep around to your stomach then down to your clit, where two of his fingers begin to stroke and pluck at your most sensitive area.

The sudden onslaught at where you're most sensitive combined with the merciless attack on your g-spot had you rearing up, wild shouts coming without your consent. A snarl tears from his throat as the hand at the base of your skull muscles you down again, his body fighting yours as you instinctively look for a reprieve from the stimulation.

"Fucking-" he growls. "Fucking take it, goddamnit."

It only takes a few moments with the stimulation on your clit for you to come. The feeling grows from deep inside you, and for a moment you fear you recognize the sensation - it's one that certainly does not belong in this bed.

Before your brain fully connects the dots of what's happening you're swept beneath a tidal wave of sensation, fight leaving your body and leaving you limp as you do your best to squeeze the life out of Johnny's cock. You hear his groan from behind you, loud and uninhibited as he buries himself completely inside you to ride the wave of his own orgasm as you milk him.

"Knew you'd be perfect for us, lass. Look at ya - squirtin' all over me and makin' a mess, fuck. Gonna sleep in it tonight, soak in your scent. Can't fuckin'- can't fuckin' believe my luck- goddamn-"

His body finally falls against yours, cock slipping out of you (to your immense relief) and the left half of his body laid over the right half of yours. For a moment, the two of you pant in sync.

Then he's twisting both of you, rolling onto his right side and pulling you into his chest, tucking your face into his neck as he reaches down to pull the condom off his cock. There's a voice, somewhere deep in your head, that worries about the fact that he used the same condom for two rounds, but the heat of Johnny against you and the soothing pet of his hand through your hair empties your head too quickly for you to focus it.

You glance up at him once he finally settles. The smile on his face now is nothing by dopey and joyous, and you can't help but mirror it even as the ache settles in your core.

He makes short order of getting the two of you ready to sleep with just a bit of wiggling. You've had one night stands before where your partner (or yourself, on occasion) wanted to leave immediately, have even grown to expect it from most men, but there's a spark of warmth in your chest when Johnny tightens his arms around you, your chest against his, his chin hooked over your shoulder and using your head as a pillow, one arm wrapped tight behind your back and the other underneath your head. It feels like there isn't an inch of space between the two of you, and you've never been more comfortable.

You hum happily, still a little drunk from the pleasure, and snuggle your face back into his warm throat. The last thing you feel before falling asleep is a kiss against your shoulder and a hand stroking up and down your spine.

-----

It feels like hours later when you wake up, the room still painted in a soft yellow light but not yet harsh beams of sunlight.

It takes a moment for you to understand what's happening, breath bouncing back onto your lips where you're panting into a man's - Johnny, you remember - neck. You register the fact that your hands are curled between the two of you, your feet tucked between his calves, and finally the feeling of something poking and prodding at your very sensitive cunt.

It still takes another moment for your brain to understand that Johnny must be trying to start another round.

You whine a little in protest, one hand creeping up to wrap around his neck and the other pushing flat against his chest.

"Shhh," he soothes, breath puffing onto your forehead. "I just need you one more time, lovie. You can go back to sleep, promise I won't be rough this time, just need to feel you wrapped around me again, hm? Please, lassie, promise I'll be quick."

He sounds so desperate, a little out of control compared to how he sounded earlier, you're almost tempted to spread your legs and let him have whatever he wants. But then the tip of his cock puts just the tiniest bit of pressure at your hole and your hips instinctively jerk back at the sting, so you whine, "Johnny," mouthing at his chest. "'M sore. You fucked me too good earlier."

The noise that rips from his throat is almost begging, you feel it beneath your lips. His breathing grows heavier "Fuck, 'm sorry baby, so sorry. I'll just- I'll just fuck your thighs, yeah? Yeah, yeah, paint your pretty pussy with me, fuck, leave you soaked like you soaked me-"

"Johnny..."

"I know, I know, lovie, I'll just..." he shifts a bit, leaning his chin onto your forehead and anchoring a hand around your hip to keep you from squirming as his hips begin to jerk without rhythm. His cock is thick where you're most sensitive and you can't keep the high noises and quiet sniffles in as the sensation shoots both pleasure and pain up your spine.

”Hush, lass, 'm almost there, just need you to keep that pussy right there for me, so fuckin' close, just... just keep soakin' me..." he murmurs nearly incoherently against your forehead before his hips jerk to a still. You feel his come paint your thighs and you keen, part of you heartbroken he didn't paint your insides despite the pain.

"Ah, I know, I know, lassie. Here - I'll, I'll get you off too... 'm not selfish, hen, won't leave you wanting. Not like-" he cuts himself off, leaning his head down a bit and honest to god taking your cheek in his mouth, teething lightly at the fat there and soaking your face with slobber. You don't even think about the odd end of his sentence, you just arch into him and moan as his hand slips down to play with your clit.

His legs squeeze yours between them as you start to wiggle, hips thrusting away from the sharp sparks of pain your poor overstimulated clit is feeling.

"Hush, hush, baby just gonna... just gotta get you off real quick, ok? You can go back to sleep after, promise, just gotta make sure... gotta..." his voice trails off into a groan as your cunt twitches and flutters. He takes your lips in a sloppy kiss, more an exchange of spit and rubbing of tongues than anything.

Just as you're about to come he slips a thick finger into your overused cunt, drawing a sharp yelp from your throat, which he immediately sets to settle by licking across and around your slack mouth. "It's okay, it's okay, lovie, just giving you somethin' to clench on, yeah? Givin' your poor cunt somethin' to squeeze on, c'mon, you're alright." His finger begins to move around inside you, crooking, feeling for something until he presses right against your g-spot and you arch deeply into his body, a long moan falling from your lips. "Just gotta... yeah, that it? Tha' what feels good? Hng, you sound so pretty, baby, love your fuckin' noises, christ-"

You come with quiet gasps, the air pouring directly into his mouth just like his words had poured into yours. He works you through it, fingers slowly gentling on your clit and lessening the pressure on your g-spot as your jerking slows before you still and he finally pulls fully away from your core.

"Johnny," you mewl, hand gripping tight on the nape of his neck as you press as much of you to him as you can, slick skin sliding against slick skin. "Not-not again tonight, please, won't-won't be able to walk tomorrow if we keep going.

He laughs deeply against the top of your head. "Not as much of a deterrent as you might think, lassie." His arm wraps around the base of your spine, hand reaching around to rest on your stomach and his other arm wrapping around your neck in what almost feels like a choke hold. He throws his leg over your hip, leaning his body weight onto you and almost crushing you into the bed. "Won't touch you again tonight, promise, okay sweetheart? We'll go again in the morning, but just rest until then."

You choose to believe him and cuddle more deeply into his hold, a deep sigh leaving you as you finally pass out, boneless, against him.

-----

Johnny regrets his promise. He regrets it immensely.

You're so fuckin' pretty beneath him, your hair like a halo around your head, eyes shut and unmoving in sleep, lips parted just a bit to let you breathe comfortably. There's a pinkness on the cheek he'd gotten a hold of earlier (a light outline of his teeth marks that makes his cock ache even after three orgasms), and your lips are still swollen from the work he'd done on them. Christ, you look more fuckable now than you had with your hips rucked in the air, pussy drooling and begging for his cock, squirming before he got a good hold on you and kept you still.

He's not sure he'll be keeping his promise.

He wants to. You're gonna be right pissed at him come morning, he knows it, and the temptation to have you pliant and begging for it one last time is almost more than he can handle.

But no. He made you a promise, and even if he'll betray you in another way come sunrise, he won't betray you in the one promise he's actually made. If Ghost were here, he'd lock a warm hand around the back of Soap's neck, rumble something about "bein' good, Johnny" and take complete control of the situation. It'd feel good, the way it always does when Simon takes over, and Soap wouldn't have to worry about fucking any of this up cause Ghost would set him right back on track if he did.

Of course if Ghost were here, he'd never have met you.

Simon had left their shared flat only three days ago, sent on a mission the PMC they'd both signed with had requested him for. Usually the two of them worked together, neither willing to be separated from the other for long, but apparently this mission just had to be completed by one agent. Soap had pouted about it all morning, until Ghost had forced him to his knees and fucked his throat so good he'd been hoarse the rest of the day.

The first day after Ghost left he'd been... okay on his own. Ghost's mission - simple fuckin' reconnaissance, no good reason Soap couldn't have gone with him - took him far out to the country, so no texts or calls could be received. Johnny settled for spamming him a bit anyway, smiling at the thought of Ghost's inevitable annoyance when he regained an internet connection and felt his phone start buzzing endlessly. Other than that, Johnny spent most of the day cleaning. He's slow at it, but all the better to take up time in the day. He did a little shopping too, filled the flat up so it didn't feel so empty. It was a bit nice to go out in public and not part the damn Red Sea with Ghost at his side. People aren't scared of Johnny in the same way - they see his cheerful smile and laid-back posture and assume he's mostly harmless. He rarely needs to correct them.

Still. Would've been nicer with Simon.

The second day he realized their home felt empty because of the lack of one giant, brooding lieutenant, not the lack of throw pillows (which he didn't even bother to make match, for fuck's sake). This set him off a bit, left him pacing angrily around the apartment and muttering to the walls. Simon didn't have to take the fucking mission, and now he's left Johnny here - all alone! - in the home they bought for themselves to finally find a bit of fuckin' peace. It's not fair.

He'd been unable to take the absolute silence of the flat any longer on the third day, determined to surround himself with distractions. Granted, it's not like the flat is much less quiet with Ghost around, but the man has a presence that fills a room up. Leaves the room desolate and empty when he goes, though, and Soap is quite pissed about it. He'll make sure to let Simon know when he comes back, starts planning his revenge at night when he jacks off to relieve the tension in his spine.

He heads to a bar he knows is always packed that third night, feeling more and more pathetic as he rots away in bed.

It's there that he sees you.

You're on the dance floor alone, hips moving in a way that's got his and every single man's eyes glued to you. You're fucking stunning, sunk into a world of your own as you hit every beat of the music. Johnny can't help himself from moving toward you, shouldering past the writhing mass of people to get to you.

The moment he gets his hands wrapped around your hips he knows. You're perfect in hid hold, his hands fit around you like you were carved by fuckin' God Himself for Johnny. His head drops back as he tugs your hips into his, too caught up in his own head to think about what a scare he must've given you.

You still for a moment, stiff, but when Soap moves his hips away from yours and keeps his movements largely nonsexual (for now), more just swaying with you in his arms, you begin to relax and move with him.

You must feel it too then, right? Surely a young woman, one all by herself, wouldn't be so comfortable with a man she can't even see if she didn't feel the same spark up her spine he did.

The more you let him lead, the more sexual the dancing becomes, the more convinced Soap is that you're simply a gift for him. Placed right where he would see you when he needed you most.

There's a moment you scurry off to get another drink. Soap's eyes remain trained on your ass as you strut and it occurs to him that his and Ghosts' moving-in-together anniversary will be tomorrow - the same day he's set to come back from his assignment.

What better gift could he get than a pretty girl in his bed to welcome him home?

The plan maps itself out in his head as he continues to dance with you, time slipping by as song after song plays, his cock aching in his jeans and begging for release. He figures he'll get in a few rounds of fun with you to knock you out properly. Not a hardship for him - if you fuck as well as you dance it'll be a challenge for him to stay awake.

Once you're well and truly fucked unconscious, he'll begin the process of tying you up all pretty for Simon.

He gets you to their flat, still shocked you let him get you off on the dance floor, and he hardly waits for the front door to close before he's on his knees, nose and tongue buried in your center, feeling near feral with the need to get you off again. He's already fuckin' addicted to you and he hasn't even gotten his cock in yet.

You taste as good as Simon does - just more proof he was meant to find you. Ambrosia and nectar, the two of you.

He feels a little bad, in the afterglow of the second round. He thinks through his second orgasm and sees the way you'd fought against it. He worries, for a moment, that your want to get away was real, not just your body's instinctual reaction. But then you curl further into him, breath warm against his pulse point, and he remembers how clingy you were post-orgasm. All's well that ends well, right?

It's now, post third round, that Johnny watches you. His original movements of rolling you to your back and propping himself above you are meant to make sure you're not waking up any time soon, and he's definitely assured of that.

Still, he can't resist another little test. He prods his pointer and middle finger at the small space between your lips, applying just the slightest pressure. You don't even twitch, breathing steady, but your lips open just a centimeter or so more and he grins at the invitation. He slips the fingers in, carefully pushing further and further into your mouth until you let out a cute little gagging noise, brows furrowing lightly.

He stops there, waiting to see if he's passed your gag reflex without noticing. When you remain still, he lets out a breath of relief.

He pushes his fingers down on your tongue, applying pressure slowly so your brain doesn't suspect anything. In just a moment he's got your mouth fully open, and he can't resist anymore.

He groans a bit, hips thrusting into the bed as he leans in and licks at your mouth. His fingers slip down to hook over your bottom teeth so he can get another taste of your tongue, exploring every nook and cranny of your mouth that he was too worked up to find earlier.

He continues to make out with you until his hips jerk to a still, cum sticky between his abs and the bedsheet.

Then he really gets to work.

Johnny pulls himself away from you, leaving one last kiss on the hickey he'd sucked onto your neck. He moves around the dim room with military stealth, absolutely silent as he collects what he needs.

He's very, very slow as he ties you up. He lifts your body from where you were relaxed, propping you up just slightly against the headboard. He takes your right wrist first, lifting it to to one of the slats and tying the rough rope around and around until you're secured. He does the same with your other wrist, leaving your hands spread wide above you. He knows from experience that the rope is rough, that it'll leave wicked burns on your skin if you're left with any room to wiggle around. So he ties the knots real tight, leaving only room for circulation and absolutely none for movement.

Next he ties your ankles. Again he starts with the right first, lifting and slowly shifting your knee with it at the same time so you don't jerk suddenly and wake yourself. He's glad to see you're decently limber, because he knows you won't feel too sore later as he ties your left ankle to your left wrist. He repeats the process with your right ankle.

Feeling quite proud of himself, Johnny kneels back on his heels to admire his work. The position he's got you in leaves you completely spread, cunt and ass both open and accessible for him. He knows that he'll be able to bend down and reach both your tits and your face while he's fucking you, but you won't be able to do much more than writhe in place. You might manage a few thrusts if you get particularly worked up.

It's the same position that drives him the most insane when Ghost ties him up in it. It's also his favorite.

He grabs the last item after a moment of stroking his mostly soft cock and admiring you. The ring gag is decently large, made for someone with a mouth his size, not yours. It'll leave your jaw sore once he takes it out and the thought makes him frown - it's far too rough for his baby. Unfortunately, Ghost only buys rough toys for Soap, so Soap only has rough toys to use with you.

He hooks the ring beneath your bottom row of teeth then sets out to very slowly ease it fully in to hold your mouth in an o shape, buckling it around your head once he's confident you're as comfortable as he can make you. All the while he fantasizes about all the soft things he'll by you once you've settled in.

Silk rope, of course, and a much more comfortable gag to wear. Maybe one you can chew on a bit - Soap gnaws endless at any gag Simon stuffs in his mouth, but he doesn't want your soft mouth chewing at the hard plastics he prefers. He'll get you all the blankets and pillows you could ever want, too. Lay you in the center of the bed and build a little nest around you, the best things for his best girl, fuck you deep in the silk and fur, sandwiching you between himself and Ghost, the two of them fucking you til you're crying and begging for a break, pretty little pillow held to your chest for comfort while they stretch you to your limit, hiccuping and sniffling into a blanket he bought you -

A noise of discomfort breaks him out of his fantasy. Johnny jerks forward, petting your face and making the most soothing noises he can to keep you from waking up. He gives you his weight, remembering how well you reacted to it earlier, and after a few moments of his attention you go limp again. He licks long and languid into your mouth again, taking a moment to suck on your tongue for own comfort before pulling away.

He strokes his hands up and down the soft skin of your inner thighs as he decides what to do with you now. He hadn't had the forethought to promise not to fuck you, no, he'd been a bleedin' idiot and you said he wouldn't fuckin' touch you until sunrise. He fights to keep his fingers from tightening around the meat of your thighs as he scolds himself, frustrated.

Well... it's not like you would know, is it?

Maybe... maybe he can just eat you out a bit. Yeah, yeah he can go real slow so you don't wake up, bury his face in your cunt til sunrise then wake you up with his tongue. Maybe an orgasm will calm a bit of your inevitable panic?

He smirks and lowers himself to his stomach between your thighs, hands pulling the sticky, swollen lips of your cunt apart so he can lick one thick, broad stripe from asshole to clit. He clenches his jaw tightly, locking a loud groan behind his teeth at the unique mix of your cum and his on his tongue.

A few deep breaths to calm himself down, and Johnny dives into your pussy.

-----

The first thing you feel when you wake up is pleasure.

You know what a tongue on your core feels like. It takes you a moment or two to remember, in the dark of sleep still, that you went home with a man last night. With Johnny, who'd promised not to touch you again until morning.

Well. The quick swipes against your clit tell you he's either a liar, or it's time for you to get up and out.

That's when you realize that something must be wrong. Because there's an ache in your hips, and your arms don't move when you try to reach down and push Johnny's face further into you so you can finish.

Your eyes blink open blearily, confusion creasing your expression.

Your feet are in the air above you. More accurately, your feet are tied in the air above you.

What the fuck?

A cautious noise of confusion tears from your throat as you begin to twist and yank at your apparent bindings in earnest, panic and pleasure making your heart pound against your ribcage.

As you discover the lack of leeway your movements become more and more frantic, uncontrollable noises of pure animal distress coming from you.

Which is when you realize that you're making those noises because you can't speak. There's something locked behind your teeth, tied around your head just tight enough that you can't force the thing out with your tongue. Your breathing isn't restricted at all, and you realize it's because your mouth is gaping open, able to suck in any oxygen you need. As you become more aware of the intrusion, an ace in the hinges of your jaw makes itself known.

Your panic spikes in earnest now, noises becoming just sharp sounds of fear from your throat as you start to squirm away from the invading sensation at you most private area.

Then Johnny lifts himself into your eyeline.

He looks- he looks fine, which just freaks you out more because for some godforsaken reason you'd trusted this man, and now the only conclusion you can come to is that he's got you bound and gagged to his headboard.

What the fuck?

Tears begin to stream from your eyes, first one then more than you can hope to keep track of.

"Oh, lass," Johnny coos, genuine fucking concern carved into the lines of his face. He leans forward and cups both hands around your cheeks, thumbs swiping beneath your eyes to clear away the wetness. His warmth is a shock against the chilled skin of your face, bringing everything into even sharper focus as your head clears more and more. "Hush, don't cry. It's okay, it's okay, 'm gonna take care of you, yeah? Just had to tie you up all pretty for Simon, you wanna look good for him when he comes home, don't you?"

You finally go still at that, desperate movements jerking to a sudden stop. Simon...?

Surely he wouldn't... surely he doesn't mean to share you?

Knew you'd be perfect for us.

I'll get you off too... 'm not selfish, hen, won't leave you wanting. Not like-

Oh god. Oh god, he means to share you. With another man.

"You're gonna love him, baby," Johnny continues above you, either unaware or uncaring of the wave of terror beginning to overtake you. "He seems real mean and scary at first, but I promise he'll be so nice after. I'll make sure he's nice, ok? Won't let him be too mean to my baby. Whatever he'll do, you'll like," he smirks down at you, like you're both in on some joke. "I always do."

He shifts his hands down your cheeks and your neck, landing firmly over your breasts and giving them a tight squeeze. "For now..." he dips his head to take one nipple into his mouth, sucking so softly for a man doing all of this without your permission. "I'll take care of you, yeah? I'll loosen you up so good for him, lovie."

He plays with your breasts for several minutes, drool sliding across your chest when he can't decide which tit to focus on. You begin to shift out of your frozen state of shock, his words slowly registering in your head while he plays with you.

You jerk again, wrists twisting desperately to try and find any sort of weak spot to tug against, air puffing harshly through the gag. Johnny frowns up at you from where he's sucking at your nipple, brows furrowing as he glances between your hands. He pulls himself reluctantly away from you, pushing up and gripping just below the ties with a stern look on his face. "No, lassie. These ropes are rough, I don't want you to hurt yourself just because you're tryin' to get away from a good thing. Stop tryin' to break yer damn wrists, yeah?"

You glare at him furiously, absolutely astounded by the man's audacity. His frown morphs into a smirk verging on mean as he leans closer to your face. "You gon' listen for me, huh? Gonna be a good girl for me so I can finish eating out your pretty cunt?" You let out a sharp noise of anger, lurching forward to try and slam your forehead into his.

He jerks back before you can make contact, shock flashing briefly across his features before a laugh bursts from his lips while you're forced back by the restraints, huffing and puffing angrily. "Easy, lovie. Try somethin' like that with Simon and he won't be so nice as I am."

With that he gives your forearms a little squeeze and a rub, then lowers himself between your thighs to apparently get right back to work. You jerk as his tongue pokes out to prod at your clit, hips thrusting as much as they can in your tight bindings and noises falling past your lips without your control.

Johnny lets out a loud groan at his first taste of you. He scoops his arms under your thighs, hands landing at the base of your spine and your thighs in the crease of his elbows, holding his own face as deep in your cunt as he can and gets to work.

If his work last night was nasty, this is animalistic. He's not doing this for your pleasure, he's doing it for his. His tongue doesn't stay on your clit, it doesn't even stay on your cunt itself - he licks all around your core, the creases of your thighs where sweat begins to drip, even down to your sensitive asshole (you jerk and yelp at the sensation, and you feel the rumble of his laughter as he pushes his tongue in there, thrusting a few times before moving to stuff as much as he could into your pussy).

You fight against it, cunt pulsing and trying to force out the invasion when it ventures there, hips writhing desperately - towards and away, but you don't think about it, you don't want more of this, you want to get away from him and from the pleasure he gives - and your head rolling back and forth on the pillow.

The worst part, probably, is the fact that you can't hide your noises. The gag in your mouth doesn't let you keep anything to yourself, even the tiniest whine or sigh is clear as day with the way your lips are forced open.

You're discovering that grunts and moans of anger, of fear, sound very similar to grunts and moans of pleasure. It makes your eyes well up with tears all over again, which just pisses you off even more.

Johnny's apparently unaware of your tumultuous mental state, eating at your cunt like a fucking Christmas feast.

He seems to decide you should come a few moments later, focusing his attention onto your clit and slipping two fingers inside of where you're neediest and adding a solid pressure against your g-spot. The sudden stretch, the slight sting from last night, draws a high noise from you and your hips jut sharply into the air. Johnny's response is to lightly wrap his teeth around your clit, slowly biting down and gradually applying pressure - tongue still flicking away - until you come.

This orgasm, forced from your body, drives you insane. You shout from behind the gag and slam your head forward rather than back, desperate for the freedom of any movement you can get. Your hips grind as much as they can between the ropes and Johnny's hand, trying to work through the overwhelming sensations for you.

When you're finished, body gone limp in acceptance your brain hasn't caught up with, he doesn't move. His face remains planted in your pussy, breath warm and wet against your sensitive flesh, but his fingers slip from your tender passage. A moment later, once you've calmed down a bit and can't do anything but stare wide-eyed at the ceiling, he heaves himself up to his knees and stares down at your body.

His face is soaked, your slick nearly dripping from his chin. There's a shine on his fucking throat.

Not entirely conscious of your movements, you try to get the gag out of your mouth again. You wiggle your tongue around it, trying to force under the ring so you can... you're not even really sure. Suck it into your mouth and spit it out? That might work if it wasn't tied around your fucking head. Regardless, you can't even get the tip of your tongue beneath the metal, top or bottom, so -

Johnny's loud groan interrupts your thoughts, freezing your movements. He's staring at your lips, pupils blown and chest rising and falling dramatically with his breaths. "Fuck, lovie, keep- keep movin' your tongue like that."

You don't listen but he crawls up your body anyway. You have a moment of panic, worried about this massive man dropping his body weight onto your thighs when he sits his ass down on them and rests his knees right by your ears, but he locks a hand around the headboard and holds up most of his own weight.

Small mercies, you think, then immediately curse yourself for even thinking anything positive towards this asshole.

If you thought you were immobile before, you're really learning the meaning of it now. With his weight resting on you - even just the little bit he allows - you can't move any part of yourself other than your fingers and toes.

"Yer fuckin' mouths so pretty, baby. Just gonna... just gonna fuck it a little, yeah?" Your eyes go wide at his murmured words and he's quick to stroke a hand down the side of your head, thumb tracing the forced shape of your lips. "I'll be gentle, promise, just need to be inside you. Won't even choke you on it, just need..." he trails off as his hips shift forward, tip just barely squeezing past the gag and into your mouth. You let out a high keen, and even the little vibrations make him throw his head back with closed eyes and groan.

He's true to his word, the bastard, only thrusting shallowly in and out as his free hand massages his own balls. You can only sit there, desperately trying to clamp your jaw down until that sends a sharp spike of pain up your skull and drags a high yelp from your throat. Johnny's eyelids briefly lift to check on you but quickly slip closed again.

This feels far more like a violation than his finger had. You're helpless to his movements even more now, simply forced to sit there and keep your tongue as still as possible in an attempt to steal even a modicum of his pleasure.

You don't know how long Johnny plays with your mouth. All you can do is lay there and wait.

Your noises are muffled by the cock in your mouth, and the slow pace seems to be the secret to keeping him relatively quiet. So when there's a loud slam outside of the bedroom, followed by what sound like heavy footsteps, you both take instant notice.

There's a moment where you think, delusionally, that someone must be here to help you. But then your see the rapidly growing elation on Johnny's face as he pulls himself free of your mouth, and you remember.

Just had to tie you up all pretty for Simon.

You're gonna love him, baby.

You can't help but let out a low cry at the realization, tears falling yet again.

Johnny doesn't even comfort you this time, just extracts himself from you and leaves a chaste kiss on your forehead before nearly trotting out of the bedroom, cock swinging proudly between his legs.

-----

Ghost's back. Finally, finally, Simon is fucking back. Soap's so excited by the knowledge that he's able to completely forget about his dick for the few steps it takes him to reach his partner.

Ghost's wearing a hoodie that's tight around his torso (one of Johnny's, he recognizes, knows that means he did miss Johnny, the pain at their separation wasn't just in his head) and low hanging sweatpants with his skull balaclava covering the bottom half of his face, black makeup smeared around his eye sockets from sweat. If Soap weren't hard as a rock already he'd certainly be by now.

He throws himself into his lieutenant's arms with a grin, leaning forward and leaving a loud, wet kiss on the covering over his face. Soap leans back to run a hand through the blonde hair, sees the heat in Simon's eyes and throbs.

Ghost cranes his head down and gives a perfunctory look over his unabashedly naked body and leaking cock. "That needy already, Johnny?"

"Yeah, L.t.," Soap replies, breath still coming out in pants from his grinning lips. "Been playin' with your anniversary present all morning."

Just on cue, there's a sound distinctly like a wail from behind the cracked open bedroom door. Johnny can't help but grin at the sound of your desperation, cock twitching between their bodies.

Ghost's eyes flick over to the door, then an eyebrow cocks above blue eyes. "Anniversary?"

Johnny can't help but roll his eyes, grasping Ghost's wrist and tugging him in the direction of their bedroom. He follows easily. "Don' play dumb, Si. Doesn't suit you."

Ghost doesn't get a chance to respond as Johnny swings their door open, pulling him into the room with the excitement of an overeager pup. "Ta-da," he beams, free hand gesturing to you. "Found her in a club. She's perfect. Feels like heaven around your cock, and fights when you fuck her through an orgasm." He can't help but chuckle, eyes drawn back to your form.

Your own eyes are wide with panic and locked on Ghost. Johnny feels a little bad for you, squirming little pathetic thing you've become, knowing how scary the man must seem to you. Johnny only comes up to Ghost's nose, and he has to suppress a groan at the thought of how wide Simon is compared to him, how the older man is going to absolutely crush you.

A rough and hot hand clamps on the nape of Johnny's neck, and he instinctively tears his eyes from you to Ghost. The man's thumb plucks at the chain his dog tags hang from, leaning just a bit toward his face. "This your gift?"

All Johnny can do is nod, a soft whine creeping out of his throat at the familiar representation of Ghost's control over him.

Simon's eyes crinkle and Soap knows there's a smile hidden under the mask. He leans forward and presses his covered lips to Johnny's forehead. "Good fuckin' boy, MacTavish."

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mahtharula · 11 months

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✧･ﾟ— nailtech!connie headcanons

starring: nail tech!connie x black!fem!reader wc: 627 cw: purely fluff 🫶🏾

nailtech!connie was the tech all of the girls wanted to book with. yeah, he knew how to get your hands right, but everyone wanted to book simply to get a closer look of the man. from his dyed buzz cut head that always had a different design every time you came into the shop, to his tall, to the tattoos that decorated his arms and hands perfectly and his eyes. oh his hazel eyes is what gets them.. but most importantly, his nails!

nailtech!connie is both a great listener and conversationalist! Honestly, he should add being a therapist to his qualifications because the amount of advice he has given his clients is insane. most of the time, they complain about their man and his line is, “you too pretty to be dealing with that.” (which have the girls swooning out of their minds).

nailtech!connie who definitely plays music during his appointments. of course, he caters to his clients preference of music and rocks from there, but baby if you give him the aux you will be far from disappointed. his music is so diverse, it ranges from partynextdoor to bossa nova, depending on his mood. his main goal is to make the client comfortable, so when booking with him he has a section where he asks if you want a talkative or silent session.

nailtech!connie who learned to do nails after watching his aunt do it for some time. at first, he only learned to expand his creativity as an artist since he dabbled in many mediums, but once he got the hang of it he was hooked. as he continued perfecting the craft and posting his work, two years and a half later he had enough money to rent out a studio and widen his client intake.

nailtech!connie because of the overwhelming number of clients who began booking with him since the opening, trying to squeeze in new clients was a tricky task. most times, connie would be booked for weeks making it hard to even get a taste of his talent on your nails. so when his homegirl was begging for him to do her best friend's nails, all he had to say was that she was lucky one of his regulars canceled.

nailtech!connie was absolutely floored when you walked into his studio. of course, he catered to many women due to his career, but something about you just had him stuck. from your smooth, dark skin to your locs that ended at the middle of your back, your plump lips that revealed a pearly white, gem decorated smile. you were like a dream personified. As you were explaining your vision for your nails to connie, he was trying his very best to focus but your scent of shea butter and florals was distracting him, “you paying attention, con?” “huh? yeah, yeah, i am!”

nailtech!connie trying to learn everything about you. from your favorite foods to what you do as a career, all of it. when he found out you were a rapper, he only wanted to go harder pulling out some exclusive charms he was saving. something he did love was how despite giving him an idea of what you wanted, you basically gave him freedom to present your idea into his vision, which he absolutely loved.

nailtech!connie who kept refusing to take the full payment and insisted on giving you a discount (because he can). after a few times, you finally convinced him to take the payment, but asked if you could become a regular because his work was so good. it only took a flutter of your lashed extensions for the man to fold, but he only had one rule: don’t cheat on him.

✧･ﾟ— author’s note • hey y’all!! i hope this was good, i’m super proud of it but please give me feedback 🙏🏾. do y’all want more nailtech!connie? do ya’ll want more connie & y/n 😗? let me know and i appreciate y’all, until next time 🖤

tags : @yourrfavzxri , @theemrsjaeger , @hqkalon , @1h3artm3

#✧･ﾟ—mahwrotethis #nailtech!connie #nailtech!connie headcanons #connie x black reader #connie x black y/n #aot x black reader #aot connie #connie imagine #connie fluff

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ashwhowrites · 2 months

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Hi! can I please request an Older! Eddie Munson x Hargrove! reader, maybe they're neighbors and they hate each other, Eddie gets tired of of "the Hargrove kid" (reader) always doing parties, he tried to talk with Billy, Reader's dad, but he didn't thought his daughter would be like that, so Eddie talks with reader again, so they end up making out (maybe you could add smut) p.s I think I sent you this request before, but I don't remember!

Older Eddie 🫶🏻🫶🏻 I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting

⚠️ smutty

Weekend nights

Eddie groaned as the loud music woke him up from his sleep. He opened his eyes and glared toward his alarm clock, he sighed. Another Friday night rest was interrupted by his neighbor.

He reached over for his landline and dialed his neighbor, it rang and rang. Then sent him to voicemail. He rolled his eyes as his call remained ignored by the loud party going on. He slipped on a shirt and walked over to his window. Not to his surprise, the yard was covered in young kids.

Eddie had been dealing with his neighbor every weekend for the past month, and he was tired of it.

Eddie and Y/N weren't friends, and not even close to being friendly neighbors. Y/N got on Eddie's nerves. The way she purposely drove him crazy then batted her eyelashes and faked innocence. She crashed her car into his garbage bins and refused to take the blame. On Halloween she egged his house, only to send him a kiss when he marched out the door. She was a pain in his ass.

Sunday morning arrived and Eddie pounded on the Hargrove's door. He came face to face with Billy. The annoyed look made Eddie think twice.

"You have any idea what time it is Munson?" Billy growled, his strong arms crossed and Eddie tried not to back down.

"Do you have any idea what time your daughter's parties go until? It's been a month since of her waking me up at two am because she refuses to turn down the music. I've called, I've crashed the party, and she has no respect!" Eddie ranted.

"Are you at my door and excusing my daughter of throwing wild parties when I'm not home?" Billy glared, unaware Y/N was coming down the stairs. Her eyes caught Eddie, and she smirked. She yanked down her little tank top, allowing her breasts to pop through.

Eddie bit his lip as he tried to hold in his annoyance. She always played mind games.

"Why would I lie?" Eddie fought back, his attention back on Billy.

"My daughter is a good girl, and she has respect. Get off my porch." Eddie sighed as the door slammed in his face, but still caught the wink Y/N sent.

It was Friday night once again, and Eddie pulled into his driveway. He was tired from work and needed uninterrupted sleep. He walked towards the Hargrove's house and pounded on the door.

"Mr. Munson, how can I help you?" Y/N flirted, her body leaning towards him as she smirked. She would never deny it, if anyone asked her she'd admit how hot she thought Eddie was. And the countess times she thought about him late at night. Eddie marched in the house and Y/N closed the door behind them.

"Oh stop the act," Eddie sneered, "tonight I want silence. No party, no friends, nothing. I want to sleep through the night without your games. I am done with the disrespect."

Y/N couldn't help but clench her thighs as Eddie scolded her. The older man always had her attention and she loved pestering him. She loved that heat and anger in his eyes.

"Oh? And I'm supposed to just obey? It's not like you're my daddy." She pouted, batting her eyelashes. Eddie hated to admit the nickname made him shiver.

"You drive me insane." Eddie groaned as he rubbed his hands over his face. Not noticing Y/N inched closer.

"Maybe I want to drive you insane," She whispered, he jumped when he felt her cold hands slide down his chest. He dropped his hands, moving to move her hands but caught himself not wanting to.

She turned her head to the side and looped her fingers through his belt loops.

"Why?" he whispered back, licking his lips as he looked down at hers.

"Because I want you to fuck me, Munson. Use that aged brain of yours."

She gasped when Eddie dug in hand in her hair, a soft yet harsh tug. "Watch your mouth, young lady." He threatened.

"Yes, sir." She moaned, she swore her mouth was watering at how close his mouth was to hers.

"Why didn't you use your big girl words to ask me? Why pester me and drive me insane?" He asked, his other hand lifted up her chin. He smirked at how easily she turned into a puddle in his hands.

"More fun this way." She tried to laugh but his lips were on hers before she could think. She moaned into his mouth and hungrily gripped at his body. He felt so hard yet soft underneath his dirty white tank top.

"Fun indeed," he teased against her lips as he pulled away.

"What if I fuck you every weekend and you don't throw parties?" He asked, his hand slipping into her pants, he pushed her underwear aside and began to finger her tight cunt.

She panted as she tried to think of words. Sounded like the perfect deal in her head. His fingers felt like a blessing inside of her, and his tongue in her mouth set her on fire.

"Deal" she moaned as she began to ride his fingers.

"Daddy's good girl my ass." Eddie snickered.

Eddie didn't dread the weekends anymore....

tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson smut #eddie munson smut x female reader #older eddie munson x reader #older eddie munson #older eddie munson x female reader #older eddie munson smut x reader #older eddie munson x hargrove! reader

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superblysubpar · 1 year

Text

We Got Love:

modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

Summary: Steve picks you up from the bar after your night out with Robin and he realizes he's overwhelmingly in love. | masterlist | Title/fic inspiration song always at the bottom - steve's music | even if a fic is not marked 18+, my blog is - please respect this

WC Range: 5-10k

Warnings: reader consumes alcohol with descriptions of being tipsy / fluffy gooey hopelessly in love with each other kissing and flirting

A/N: A night out with @loveshotzz in Chicago had us thinking about Steve picking us up and bringing us to McDonald's and then a sweet anon sent a thought about Steve helping our tipsy selves and thus this fic was born. I hope you love it!💛

Steve was in too deep. He wasn’t supposed to fall this hard or this quickly. Sure, he’s known for giving his heart away too easily, but he knew this was different. He knew you were different. He was going to take it slow this time - he had a whole plan.

He’s never been a good planner.

You’re sweet and soft, but you’re not afraid to bite back. You’ve got an energy about you, and sometimes he feels a little like you’re the sun. He can’t help but be drawn to you, like you’ve got a gravitational pull just for him, but if he gets too close too fast he’s gonna get burned like he always does.

But Jesus Christ, you’re not making it easy for him. You’re so sweet and perfect already, but you have to be gorgeous too? Cause you’re always pretty, but tonight…wow. And your ass in those jeans. His hands form fists at his sides, planting his heels into the floor so he doesn’t just start making out with you in front of Robin. He’s going a little insane - like he feels like he needs to keep his hands on you at all times or he’ll literally stop breathing, he’ll die if he doesn’t get to kiss you and -

He’s so fucked.

Hair curled and bouncing across your shoulders as Robin and you dance and headbang to the early 2000s playlist she insisted would pump you up for your girls night out. His bathroom counter is littered with lipsticks and various tubes of things you hold up to him in the store for his opinion on. He just nods and asks ‘Do you like it?’ before you drop it into the red cart with a smile and leave a kiss on his cheek.

A laugh that has the ability to actually crawl into his chest and burrow inside of his heart leaves you as Robin gives you shit for being high maintenance. He hides a smile from his spot leaning in the doorway as you insist that the tequila shot is going to be better with the orange, “Trust me, Robs. When have I steered you wrong?”

Robin starts to list several times you’ve done just that and your face scrunches as you stick your tongue out at her. Steve watches you both lick salt from your wrists and as you make eye contact with him he clears his throat and looks down, cheeks flushing pink at the thought of your tongue like he’s thirteen again.

Yup, totally fucked.

The clink of your glasses on the counter draws his eyes up once more, your face squished in amusing pain as you suck on the orange slice, eyes fluttering open and removing it with a wide smile directed at him over Robin’s shoulder. Body wiggling and hands clapping together as the alcohol enters your body and another laugh leaves it as Robin begrudgingly admits to liking the orange.

A pink stain left on the rim of the glass and one on his cheek after you skip over to him, arms wrapping around his neck. Steve’s hands find their favorite spot on your hips, fingers slipping seamlessly into the belt loops and trying not to think about how your hips and ass are gonna look dancing out at the bar without him. How you naturally sway easily to the beat, and smile around the skinny neon straw between your teeth as someone tells a story. How in between turns at an arcade game or a round of pool you use the stick or someone’s open fist to sing along to the songs playing because your walls come down a little from just a few drinks.

You lean back to peer at him with a smile that makes his heart stutter, sure he’ll need to seek actual medical attention to get it restarted as you tap your nose to his chin. God, you’re so fucking pretty.

“You gonna be okay all by yourself tonight handsome?”

Handsome.

He can’t help but sigh a little when you call him that. Can’t help the way his hand moves to push a piece of your hair behind your ear like he’s a leading man in a rom com you’ve made him watch.

He wants to tell you the truth. That no, as a matter of fact, he will not be okay alone and he needs you to stay. And it freaks him out a little bit that he wants you to stay forever and it’s not even for sex. He wants to debate about the best candy to have with popcorn, for you to shove your cold hands under his shirt and press your nose into his neck. To banter about what to watch only for you to fall asleep five minutes into it. Words on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t want you to leave ever. Because you’re going to go out tonight and go back to your place and he feels crazy because he wants you to just move in and that’s not in the plan. That’s not taking it slow at all, Harrington.

Raising your eyebrows at him, waiting for his response, his hands now push your hair from your shoulders gently. Swallowing harshly as his fingertips graze over the straps of your black tank top hiding under a jacket, trailing up your neck and back down relishing a little in the goosebumps that rise in their wake. A non committal hum leaves his pursed lips before he sighs, “You know, I really don't know. I think you should stay, just to be safe.”

It’s not the words that cause the feeling of a box of bouncy balls being dropped in your stomach, but the way Steve says them with that look. Tone and eyes warm like honey dripping over every inch of you, sealing your body in a sweet and sticky heaviness. Convinced you’d melt into an actual pile of goo if he let go of you, ready to shout how you’re feeling from every open window at every tallest peak in the world. Tequila and citrus mingle with the words that dance on your tongue, making it all a little harder to keep inside. You’re far too tempted to tell Robin that there’s a change of plans and you’ll have to stay curled up next to your boyfriend for the rest of your life.

You don’t say those things though, but you pretend to play along with his game - to see how much of his heart he’s willing to give away before you give all of yours to him.

“Well, safety is my middle name…”

Steve’s smile widens, lopsided and rising on the right and you want to reach out and trace over his lips and memorize the smile you’re able to pull out of him - just for you. Body filling with heat at the thought as his hands squeeze at your shoulders.

Thumbs brushing across your neck as he takes the smallest step to fully close the distance between your bodies, “Right, so really, it’s your duty to-”

“Oh god, I need another shot!” Robin smacks her head against the counter several times, “Please, for my sake, would you just kiss and say goodbye so we can go already?”

Stepping onto your toes, your nose brushes Steve’s and he sighs as your lips hover over his, “Don’t have too much fun without me, okay?”

A clink of Robin’s shot glass hitting the counter makes your lips twitch.

“Fun? Without you? Just misery with no company here.” Steve huffs and taps the tip of your shoes with his socked foot. Pouting his lips out dramatically in one last feeble attempt to get you to stay. You catch his bottom lip with yours, pressing a soft and over too quick kiss there.

Robin bangs her head on the counter again as his fingers slip into your hair, cradling the back of your head. His tongue pokes out to lick across his top lip, citrus and salt lingering on it.

Warm eyes dancing between yours as he whispers a plea, “One more?”

Desperate for a pillow to scream into, to kick your legs and giggle like the lovesick fool that you are, you just bite back a grin as he tilts your head further. Lips molding around yours, soft and lazy and making you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. Noses squished together, thumbs buzzing across your cheeks, Steve sighs into you and your foot practically pops like you’re in a black and white movie and the end credits song is going to start playing.

The tap of Robin’s foot in impatience and a loud clearing of her throat makes the smile you were biting back win as you pull away reluctantly. Unable to help yourself, one more quick peck to his top lip before you untangle your heart and hands from his.

Tugging Robin towards the door, you glance over your shoulder to find Steve with his hands running through his hair, eyes blinking open as you smile widely. A sing song lilt to your voice as you call back through the closing door, “Have fun with your misery!”

Robin’s voice echoes down the hallway, “You’re both disgusting!”

Your voice louder and exasperated, “You told me to kiss him goodbye!”

Steve’s forehead hits the now closed door as he groans, palms dragging over the wood before they form fists. He already misses you. He’s a chump. He’s in love. He’s pretty sure you’re the one.

So, so, so fucked.

He tries not to wallow, cause that would be pathetic.

He’s pathetic.

Alone in his apartment trying not to think of you, except you’re everywhere. He cleans up your pregame shenanigans, despite you insisting you’d do it earlier before leaving - he was happy to do it so you could have more time with Robin. There’s a blanket you bought for his couch, your favorite coffee mug fresh out of the dishwasher and hung on a hook. The scent of your perfume and body wash in his bathroom and a toothbrush next to his. Clothes returned to half of a drawer that was basically just entirely yours now.

Eventually, he’s tired of his own co-dependent self pitying and crawls into bed, curling into the pillow that now smells like you. Thoughts of you lull him into a restless sleep. Tossing and turning and desperate to reach out and feel your body clinging to his, legs tangled together and cheek pressed to his chest.

Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t love the fact he woke up at almost 2am to his phone ringing loudly, your face filling the screen. A picture he’d recently caught of you, holding a giant burrito in your hands and staring lovingly at it like it was your child.

Just the sight of it makes his chest ache and he takes maybe a second longer to answer since he’s caught up in staring at it. Clearing his throat before he answers, “Hello?”

“Oh, fuck, you sound…I…” your voice wobbles and a barely audible sigh falls into the speaker, not expecting the heavy sound of his voice. Not prepared for the deep gruff from his chest and sleep coated word to make your thighs push together like they do.

He sits up straighter and flicks on his lamp, “Hey, everything okay?”

“Ye-yeah,” you hiccup and giggle and then continue, “Yes. You just sound so sexy, I’m - well he does!” You’re shouting to Robin who he hears grumbling in the background and his bottom lip pulls in, tugged between his teeth as he fights a smile.

“Called just to tell me that, huh?” Purposely whispering so his voice sounds a little raspier, practically able to see you melting on the other side of the phone.

“Fuck…no?” His smile breaks through at the sound of your sentence ending in a question before you keep going, “I…I called because….oh! Uber! There’s like no Uber’s around and well okay there was one but we’d have to share it with these guys and…”

Steve is already pulling on sweats and the black sweatshirt you were always stealing. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he slips on the first pair of shoes he can find. Locking the front door and spinning his keys on a finger as you continue on. Somehow your story turns from Uber to Robin having a rum and coke come out of her nose because of a joke you told and how you totally crushed her at ski-ball.

He could listen to you talk about nothing and everything, just enjoying the sound of your voice and the way you light up when you tell a story. It can’t be crazy to be so in love with you already. You have to feel this way too, right?

“Anyways, I’m talking a lot and Robin is tapping her wrist.” You laugh and a snort comes out and somehow he falls even harder. “Like she’s ever worn a watch and been on time in her life - oh really? Name one time! Uh-huh, that’s what I thought, Buckley!”

“Babe,” Steve interrupts, rubbing his jaw to fight the aching smile he’s had on his face for the past few minutes. It’s a new name still, sticky in his throat and makes his heart speed up a little at the risk of saying it every time, but he loves the way you react.

“Yeah?” A little breathless, he can hear you smile through the phone. Easily able to picture the piece of hair twirling around your finger as you quietly tack on, “I like when you call me babe, Stevie.”

He breathes deeply through his nose, forehead pressing to the steering wheel. It feels like he’s drawing each word out of his brain painfully slowly because all that wants to come out is ‘I love you’ and he needs to say, “I’m in the car, where are you?”

“Oh! I’ll drop a pin! Thanks Steve I lo-” your voice cracks as it falls off before you quickly shout, “See you soon!” and then silence.

The entire drive to you is unbearably long and filled with Steve telling himself you weren’t about to say what he thinks you were.

Not that it would be a bad thing if you had said it, but he wants to be first. And he knows he feels that way about you, he just thought it was all too soon. Saying those three little words out loud has burned him before, but for some reason he knows it’s nothing like the pain he’ll feel if he says them to you and you don’t say them back.

As snowflakes hit his windshield and disappear just as quickly, he comes to a stop at a red light, the barcade just on the other side of the intersection and he smiles. You’re out on the sidewalk with Robin who appears like she’s trying not to look amused as you cabbage patch and disco to a song that must be playing. Stopping suddenly, he can tell you shout that it’s snowing and Robin must say something sarcastic back because you wave her off and start to spin a little. Head thrown back with a wide smile, tongue sticking out to catch a snowflake. He pulls up to the curb and hops out of the car.

Your head falls forward and his name leaves your lips behind the widening smile, the ‘E’ at the end trailing off and wrapping around his heart.

Steve’s hair is a mess, carmel and honey, lazily askew and you ache to card your fingers through it. Can you do that yet? Is jumping into his arms and running your hands through his hair after only a few hours away from each other too needy? Your buzzed brain and body are toeing the line of not really caring if it is. Especially with his glasses falling down the slope of his nose, hands in his sweatshirt pocket and a smile on his lips. Gray sweats sitting low on his hips and you bite back a smile at the loafers he probably quickly grabbed. Lit up in oranges and yellows from the streetlight and neon green of the bar sign flashing overhead. You could jump his bones right there against the car.

Falling into his arms with a low and content sigh, your fingers lock around his neck and toy with the ends of his hair in a sort of compromise with yourself. Nose pressing into his jaw, inhaling the familiar scent you’d missed in just a few short hours. Woodsy, maybe a little leather, and Steve and you could dare to call it home already. Swallowing the thought down, you whine a little and reveal a different thought, “Fuck, you are so handsome.”

Steve’s breath catches like you haven’t called him that before, taking in the way you blink and flutter your eyelashes, wet from snowflakes melting on your skin. Arms wrapping around your waist to keep you up right - or at least that’s his excuse.

“I’m sure you say that to all the guys,” his voice still scratchy with sleep. He clears his throat, thumb rubbing against your skin just under the hem of your shirt. He’s lost in the feeling of you relaxing into his hold completely, like there isn’t any other place you’d rather be. Realizing that he can be a little needy with you, because you are with him.

The warm pads of his fingers on the exposed skin of your sides threaten to draw all of your attention. Forgetting what you said, what he said, or why you were even there. All information gone from your brain other than the fact that his lips are right there and looking far too kissable.

Pulling slightly away so you can stare into his eyes, you grin, touching your nose to his quickly, “Only you, Goose.”

Steve risks sliding his hands up your sides more, your shirt rising ever so slightly and his fingers buzzing over your skin. You love the way his lips quirk up at the nickname and he loves the shiver that runs through you and the way your breath hits his cheek sharply as he touches his forehead to yours and whispers, “Flattery will get you everywhere, Maverick.”

Rising onto the tips of your chucks, fingers finally pushing up and finding a home in Steve’s hair and you sigh. The neon lights could dim, a pop song could start playing and script scrawling across the screen announcing they lived happily ever after could all happen and you wouldn’t even be remotely surprised. It all feels a little like a dream, this thing with you and Steve, and you really hope you don’t ever wake up from it.

Mouth hovering over his, the mint of toothpaste on his breath begging to mix with the alcohol on yours, but leave it to your mutual best friend to ruin the moment yet again.

“Get a room!” Robin’s hands tap the side of the back car door, her plea echoing down the quickly emptying sidewalk.

Steve turns to glare at her, her body half out the window and a wide grin on her face. The two old friends in a staring contest and silent conversation when your stomach growls and a giggle slips out of your lips. Tugging on Steve’s shirt as you request, “Hey, can we get chicken nuggets?”

Robin snaps her fingers and points to you, “Yes! Now that’s more like it! Oh! And fries!”

“And a shake!” You jump up and down and Steve rolls his eyes at both of you, his hands still on your hips giving a light squeeze though.

He fights his amusement at your tipsy state and sighs dramatically, “Any more requests?”

“Nope!” spinning past him, he opens the car door and helps you in as Robin grumbles about her not receiving any help to get into her seat.

Steve begins to stand and your fingers tug him down by the collar, “Wait! I thought of one more thing I want.”

Snow turning to rain on the back of his neck as you lean in closer and he whispers, “Yeah? What’ll it be, honey?”

“A kiss,” smiling as your lips hover over his.

Steve’s cheeks turn pink and you’re so totally and completely in love with him it physically hurts when he whispers, “As you wish,” and presses his lips to yours.

It’s not a sweet and quick kiss like he intended, you’re a little greedy with it. Fingers clutching his sweatshirt, mouth parting over his and he can’t help but hold your cheeks and pull you in deeper.

“I’m seriously going to puke in your car Steven, and it’s not from the alcoholic beverages I’ve consumed tonight.”

Robin’s annoyed tone sends a giggle ripping through you, breaking the kiss and your hands release him and Steve takes a moment to take you in longer. Lips a little redder and glossier, eyes shimmering under fluttering eyelashes and his thumbs brush over your cheeks and he sighs, “You’re trouble, you know that?”

A grin and a kiss to his palm as your eyes look up at him innocently but your mouth forms a smirk tells him you definitely know.

He releases you reluctantly and closes the door carefully before jogging around the front of the car. Absolutely worth the flick to his ear he receives from Robin as he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before letting his hand rest on your thigh.

The drive to McDonald’s is not long, just down a few blocks, but it feels like years to your tipsy state. Steve’s fingers brush your thigh back and forth, setting your skin on fire despite the layer of fabric between them. Aimlessly playing with his fingers, brushing over his wrist before a song on the radio catches your attention.

Steve watches as you light up, turning the dial and proceed to belt out almost every lyric wrong, but somehow manage to try to sing along to the guitar and the drums at the same time. You end up leaning across the console, fingers playing with his hair, his ear, his jaw and it takes every ounce of his willpower to keep his eyes on the road.

“Keep your hands to yourself until I’m out of the car please, I’m begging you,” Robin moans from her totally horizontal position in the backseat, eyes glaring at you.

Your frown is amusing, like a kid told they can’t have their cookie until after they eat their vegetables and you pout. Your fingers trail back to Steve’s on your thigh as he orders for you all at the drive thru. Perking up as you tug on his sleeve. “Stevie, don’t forget-”

“Oh, can I get extra sweet and sour please?”

Your smile is brighter than the neon light from the yellow arches illuminating the car and he knows he really is a goner after you do a little dance in the seat as the fries and nuggets hit your lips. Peeking up at him as you sip your shake, wiping your lips before asking, “What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, you’re just really cute.”

You duck your head down and hide your smile in your last nugget as Robin sighs around her fries. She leans forward as Steve pulls up to the curb outside of her place and wraps her arms around you from behind and squeezes, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

You start to turn, “What are you talking about, I’m staying the-”

Robin kisses your temple and starts to get out, “No you’re not. Have a good night lovebirds!” She calls loudly, saluting with fries in her hand before entering her apartment building.

Snow that’s turned to rain fully and hitting the roof of the car mingles with the music playing softly and you smile at him. Voice suddenly shy and quiet as you ask, “Your place?”

Steve can't get you home fast enough. You’re all cherries and chocolate ice cream and salt - stolen kisses at every stop sign. Giggling as he tells you that you gotta stop or he’s gonna get a ticket, placating you with more fries and asking about your night.

He’s driving himself a little crazy as he finally pulls to a stop in front of his place, fingers gathering yours and pulling you out of the car and up the front steps. Steve wants to let your hands wander, to keep that smile on your face, but he can see the food turned your tipsiness to sleep and it tugs on you, making your limbs heavier and your eyelids flutter more. He knows that as soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re going to be out. The responsible thing to do is to get you to bed.

As the door closes, you lean in to kiss Steve like you’ve been wanting to all night. Desperate to disappear into each other without the impatient and annoyed eyes of Robin next to you any longer. Fingers tugging at the strings of his hoodie, pulling Steve’s body against yours. Your lips attach to his with no intent of ever letting them go.

“Missed you,” a breathless pant against his lips as you continue your assault on them, hands sliding into his hair and scratching at his scalp. Smiling around his lips as he groans at the feeling, his hands landing on either side of your head to catch himself.

Pulling away despite your whine of protest, he kisses your neck, nibbling a little before pressing more kisses into your skin. Your back arches and he sighs, this is definitely going to be harder than he anticipated. Words lost in your skin between kisses up and down your neck, “Missed you too.”

Steve can’t believe the words he’s about to say, especially when you’re looking at him like that. Kiss swollen lip tucked between your teeth, skin flushed - glitter and sweat kissed, curls of your hair falling loose and framing eyes that seem to be reading his thoughts and hungry with an equal amount of want.

Steve’s eyes warm, cinnamon and moss melting and climbing over you and you want to let him take every inch, want to tell him it’s all his. The pad of his thumb brushes over your bottom lip as he swallows harshly. He pulls at it, letting it pop out in a pout that he kisses slower and sweeter than before. Steve sighs into your lips as you part further for him, fingers trailing down to his jaw to hold him closer to you.

His forehead pressed to yours, his words are a breath against your lips, “Come on, time for bed, trouble.”

Is it the alcohol or is it Steve’s lips and words that make everything feel a little off kilter? He makes you dizzy, and giddy and he’s the one who’s trouble because you weren’t supposed to fall this hard for a boy like him. He can’t possibly want a girl like you.

As your eyes flutter open, he’s pulling at your hands, thumb brushing over your knuckles and leading you down the hallway. Not stopping at the bedroom, but continuing on to the bathroom. Steve hands you your toothbrush, kissing your temple with the promise of a change of clothes. Leaving you to stare at your reflection and wonder why Steve saying ‘time for bed’ and actually meaning to go to sleep has your stomach alive with more butterflies than before.

Steve cares about you. He’s not trying to sleep with you, he doesn’t care that you woke him up or made him get you McDonald’s at two in the morning. He let you leave and he cleaned up yours and Robin’s mess. Steve cares about you.

He returns, setting you on the lip of the tub as he rummages in the medicine cabinet.

“Aha! Found em,” he mumbles, pulling makeup remover wipes down and crouching in front of you.

Instead of handing you one, Steve gently wipes at your skin whispering something about how you really didn’t need all of this stuff, you know that right? Every word and every pass of his thumb with the cloth over your skin knocks a stone loose in your resolve. A paper thin wall between your heart and his now. It aches, your heart pounds loudly in your chest, filling your ears. Palms sweating, fingertips itching, breath catching like you’re about to take a jump off of a cliff.

Mouth dry as the words that yearn to come out sit ready on your tongue. Instead, your fingers catch his chin and you kiss him. Chaste and quick, eyebrows raised at him, “Why are you so sweet to me? What d’ya like me or something Steve?”

Steve tosses the wipe covered in makeup, kissing your wrist before tugging at the same hand and pulling you up to stand. Heart hammering, denting and breaking the armor he keeps around it. He could say it. He wants to say it.

But he doesn’t.

He lifts your arms and you giggle as he pulls your shirt from you and slips one of his own over your head instead. Kissing each of your cheeks as your jeans drop to the floor and he helps you step out of them. He sighs, catching your jaw like you had just caught his. “Yeah, something like that.”

Rising onto your toes, hands on each side of his face, you whisper through a smile, “How embarrassing. You like me? Do you like really like me like me or-”

Steve presses his lips to yours, arms wrapping around your waist and you sigh, hands falling to rest flat against his chest. His lips move over yours languidly. Lazy and sweet kissing that has you melting into his body. He knows he needs to stop kissing you, that you should go to bed. But he can’t stop, like your lips have a love potion in them and he’s under your spell.

Steve lifts you, carrying you to the bedroom and your kissing becomes a little sloppy, your smile forcing you to break apart for a breath. He lays you on the bed, arms on either side of your head as he hovers over you. You giggle into his lips as he pesters you with quick kisses over your face, “What’s,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “Funny?”

He nibbles on your bottom lip and pulls away and you’re eager to chase his lips, hands looping around his neck. Laughing into his smile and kiss as you sing, “You like me so much. You want to kiss me, you want to date me, you want to -”

Steve kisses your teasing away again, this time a little more passionately - like he’s trying to say all of the words he wants to with just a kiss. Stealing your breath from you, but then again he can’t really steal something you’re willing to give.

He pulls away, cradling your jaw and relishing in the dazed look on your face. He whispers into your lips as he kisses you again, “I’m gonna go get you some water, Gracie Lou.”

Smiling to himself down the hall as you finally find your voice and shout, “I knew you liked that movie!”

Steve can’t be gone for more than a minute, but when he returns, your chest rises and falls evenly, puffs of breath leaving your slightly parted lips and your face relaxed. Water to your side of the bed, he lifts the covers and slips you under them, flicking off the lamp and sliding in next to you.

Half asleep, you roll immediately. Leg slipping and tangling between his, hand on his stomach and cheek pressed to his chest. Steve lets his fingers glide over your spine, gently rubbing back and forth until his own eyes start to flutter closed. He’s going to tell you in the morning. He’ll make breakfast and coffee and he’ll finally tell you-

“I love you.”

It’s a breath against his skin, the words making goosebumps rise on it and his stomach flip. He feels you shift, your breathing heavy and your eyes still closed as far as he can tell.

“What?” he whispers to you and you don’t respond. Raising his head to peek at you, making sure you really are asleep, daring to ask again, “Y/N, baby,” he licks his lips, fingers sweating, “What did you just say?”

Nothing but a soft snore comes from you and Steve smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. He pulls you closer, practically on top of him and kisses your temple.

You love him. Arms wrapping around you tightly, he decides he’ll never tell you that you said it because he was going to be first.

Steve Harrington is in love with you too.

Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you thought, and I hope you consider reblogging my work to get it circulated to new readers - thanks for being here 💛

Steve Tag List: @boomhauer @loveshotzz @myobmaya @sweetsweetjellybean @pastel-pillows @littlesubbyflower @aftermidnightwriting

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #modern!steve #steve harrington fic #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic

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sturn-wrld · 5 months

Text

🏮facetime sex

pairing: chris x reader

summary: y/n is sex deprived while chris is away

genre: SMUT!!!! don't read if it makes you uncomfortable!

warnings: masturbation, nicknames

a/n: day 4 of smutmas! i love this story but not the end so ignore that part if you like :)

masterlist

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it had been 2 weeks since your boyfriend, chris, had left for tour and you were already feeling sex deprived. both you and chris knew this was going to happen. he tried to avoid this by inviting you to come on tour with him knowing there would be opportunities during the chaos that tour bring for you two to slip away at any given point but you denied knowing how stressed you would be with school after coming back. but right now was a time you wished you had gone with him.

as you lay in your comfy bed on your back wondering why chris hasn't asked for pics yet or asked to facetime you naked. he was always hornier than you were and always called you for facetime sex when you were in the same city so to think he was surviving without sex for longer than you had this time was insane. at the same time as thinking these thoughts the amazing idea to pull a chris popped into your head.

you were going to facetime chris naked. or almost naked. the second the thought popped into your head you jumped up from your bed to go put on chris's favourite lingerie you owned and sat back on your bed before texting him.

hey chris. how are you? how's tour going?

hey ma. tour is so cool. i love meeting all the fans and stuff. and i've got some cool things for you when i come back soon.

that's good ml! i'm so excited. what are you guys doing right now?

we aren't doing much. matt and I just finished setting up the hotel room and he just left with nick to get us food.

okay. i'm going to ft you then ;)

as you flung your upper body back to lay on your bed and rang chris you couldn't help but get giddy and butterflies like it was the first time all over again. suddenly you saw a very familiar, sexy face pop up on your screen.

hey beautiful

hey baby

what you up to right now?

nothing much. thought you could help me with something.

what's that mamas?

do you want to help me cum?

always gorgeous. go sit at your desk and set your phone up.

you obeyed his request and set your phone up so he could see your whole body sitting in the chair at your desk as he set his phone up so you could see his whole body while he sat on the bed.

take that sexy bra off.

this was all you needed to slowly unclip the bra and seductively pull the straps down to reveal the big lumps that lie on your chest.

now play with those beautiful tits.

as you started toying with your nipples, screaming the most unholy moans straight from your throat, you noticed chris's shorts begin to tent.

just looking at you makes me wet.

the sentence chris was waiting for to command you of your next action.

how about you show me instead of telling me.

at that moment you stood up to teasingly strip away the almost invincible panties to fully reveal the waterfall the last two weeks had created. as he stared he slowly starting pulling down his own sweatpants and underwear to reveal what your craving had been.

as you stared right at him and his enormous dick you slowly started rubbing your slick all over the hole's surrounding areas releasing what could be considered ear piercing moans but was music to chris's ears. as he started rubbing himself up and down, it only supported you to continue.

chris i wish you were touching me right now.

the saying that could push chris to the edge any day. the saying that caused absolute mayhem within him.

pretend it's me then mamas.

with that you closed your eyes and started rubbing faster before insert your fingers into your soaking hole, moan chris's name as loud as possible. this caused chris to continue to run himself faster and faster, bringing himself closer to his release.

are you close yet ma?

almost baby.

as chris reached his end he stopped just to start again, to edge himself for you to have a simultaneous release.

chris i'm gonna cum.

okay beautiful do it now for me.

as chris gave you permission, you released on the spot from the sound of his fucked out voice and the sight of him releasing on himself, shaking uncontrollably in the process.

your so beautiful ma. you did so good.

thank you baby.

no thank you. i really needed this right now.

as the two of you sat in silence half clothed, covered in your own cum and blankets, you wondered how long you would last until this happened again. after chris started touching himself again you came to the conclusion of not very long.

taglist

@ermdontmindthisaccount @its-jennarose @ilovemattsturn

#strniolosworld #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut

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lordprettyflackotara · 11 days

Text

breath away || chris sturniolo & colby brock || the finale

smut, minors dni, 18+. guys ngl i went crazy in the studio. this is pure and utter completely insane filth. this was like written during peak feral hours. BEWARE🧍🏻‍♀️. oh and hot fights in bars colby activated BARK BARK.

You had no idea what to expect as you turned the corner, the restroom door slamming behind you.

Lucky for you, an explanation to Tara wasn’t needed.

The purple hickies forming on your neck said it all.

The overbearingly loud music was background noise to you now, your determination tuning it out. You never dreamed in a million years you’d be in this position. Hunting down one guy? Incomprehensible enough. Every fiber in you hunting down two guys? Those guys being Chris Sturniolo and Colby Brock? Unfathomable.

The red lounge had certainly earned its name, the red led lights illuminating the room. You tried to slither through people, struggling to find them. What if they were joking? You managed to find the bar, standing in front of it. Your eyes scanned over the crowd, trying to find them. You sighed, a hand suddenly brushing against your lower back.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you turned around, a man you didn’t recognize standing behind you. “Hello there,” He greeted. His words sounded slimy, your intuition screaming at you this guy was bad news. “Hi, please don’t touch me,” You say firmly, trying to obviously search for Chris and Colby. Maybe if you looked like you were obviously occupied he’d fuck off. “Feisty, i like that. Why dont we hit the dance floor?” He suggested. You cringed at the thought, his hand resuming its place on your lower back. You took a step back, pushing his hand off of you.

“I’m good, i’m trying to find someone,” You say, taking a couple of steps back. He reached out and grabbed your arm, his fingers harshly gripping around your skin. “I’ll be whoever you wanna be sweetheart,” He said. You squirmed under his grip. “Don’t fucking touch me!” You snapped. Two heads of brunette hair came from behind you, yanking the stranger away from you. You took a shaky breath, watching as Colby grabbed him by his shirt. He shoved him against the bar, spitting threats and insults into his face.

You were stunned, a familiar pair of soft hands grabbing your shoulders. “Hey hey hey, look at me ma. You good?” Chris asked. You nodded, the bartender climbing over the bar to intervene. “Oh shit he’s gonna get kicked out. Colby!” You called, rushing over to him. Chris was right behind you, the bartender trying to pull him off of the weird man. “If you ever touch our girl again i’ll gut you like a fish, do you understand me?” He growled, his knuckles turning white from gripping the man’s shirt so tightly. Chris grabbed his left arm, trying to help pull him away.

“Colby, look at me, i’m right here, i’m fine,” You say. Your voice seemed to soothe Colby’s anger, his knuckles finally releasing his shirt. “I’m cool man, i’m cool,” Colby told the bar tender, putting his hands in the air to show peace. The words our girl rang through out your mind, the sudden flashes of cameras capturing your attention. “Fucking hell, how do they always find us?” You sighed. Chris put his hair around you, hiding your surely shaken up expression from the scene.

“Let’s go somewhere a little more private, yeah?” Colby suggested, cocking his head to the left. You trailed behind him, Chris keeping your face hidden. “Thanks Chris, you’re sweet,” You say. Chris gave you a cheesy grin, the three of you ducking into a private room. “I bet you taste sweeter,” He whispered in your ear, your stomach doing a backflip at his words. You were surprised to see the room was quiet and reserved, the only thing occupying it being a black velvet couch and a wall wide mirror. The three you studied the room, soaking in the surroundings.

“This place used to be a strip club didn’t it?” Chris finally asked, making the three of you laugh. You playfully elbowed him, eyeing the couch suspiciously. “Damn now you’ve got me thinking about everyone that’s nutted on this couch. Bleh,” You replied, pretending to gag. Colby’s hands grabbed your waist from behind, his breath hot against your ear. “The only orgasm you should be thinking about is your own,” He whispered lowly, gripping your tender flesh. You groaned, Chris grabbed your chin gently, guiding you look at him.

“I think you owe us one, don’t you pretty girl?” He purred. You nodded profusely, the heat between your legs only getting hotter by the moment. “Then I suggest you get on your knees,” Colby ordered, pressing a kiss to the side of your head. You did as instructed, my knees hitting the hard wooden floor below you. You flattened out your tongue, the boys undoing their belts in unison. Chris couldn’t contain himself any longer, slapping his tip against your tongue.

“Look at that, so pathetic and eager to be our personal cumslut,” Chris purred. You used your hand to jerk Colby off, pumping his shaft. You licked the underside of Chris’s cock, tracing each vein. “Enough teasing princess, open your mouth wide,” Colby ordered. You did as instructed, both boys guiding their cocks to your mouth. “Go on ma, suck both of us off at the same time. You can do it,” Chris cooed, stroking your hair lovingly. You tried to fit both of their tips in your mouth, their cocks too girthy to fit.

You whined as you tried to accommodate their wish, the pool between your legs only furthering as they tried to forcefully push themselves inside. “Such a good girl,” Chris praised, groaning as you licked up his slit. Colby grabbed a handful of your hair, yanking you away from their cocks. Saliva dripped off of your flattened tongue, dripping onto the floor below. Roughly he forced you onto his cock, pushing himself deep into your throat. “That’s it, such a good whore,” Colby grunted. You forced your jaw to go slack, tears flooding your waterline as he abused your throat.

Briefly he yanked you off of his cock, allowing you to intake gulps of air. “Dont be rude, you’re forgetting about Chris,” Colby said mockingly, pushing your head onto Chris’s cock. The brunette before you could’ve came right then, the sight of you deepthroating his cock enough to make him cum four times over. “Fucking hell, I need to fuck her, now,” Chris panted. You gasped for air as Colby untangled his hand from your hair, saliva trailing down your chin. Shakily you rose to your feet, Chris’s lips eager to meet yours.

He couldn’t get enough of you. Neither of them could.

“Turn around and face the mirror. Want you to watch yourself as I fuck you dumb,” Chris grunted, guiding you by your waist to turn around. You held yourself steady by placing your hands against the mirror, the feeling of Chris rubbing his tip up and down your slit sending electric shocks down your spine. You were glad you had Chris’s strong hands on your waist and the mirror to keep you upright. (Otherwise you thought you may crumble). Your eyes widened as you watched Colby kneel in front of you. “Keep your eyes up there princess,” Colby ordered. Your mouth fell open as Chris pushed himself inside of you, Colby’s lips attaching themselves to your clit.

You couldn’t control your sinful noises, one of your hands flying down to Colby’s hair. You glanced down at the man on his knees in front of you, Chris roughly smacking your ass to regain your attention. “Watch yourself ma, watch yourself fall apart for us,” He said, brushing your hair away from your neck to give himself access. You watched in the mirror as Chris pounded into you from behind, Colby’s tongue lapping at your sensitive clit with each thrust. “Oh my fucking-” You whined, your knees threatening to buckle. “Stay upright princess, we’re no where near done with you,” Colby purred, grinning as he watched your breast bounce from below.

You bit your bottom lip, Chris’s cock abusing your cunt the way he pleased. In the reflection you could see Colby pumping his cock, slowly rubbing his thumb across his slit. His blue eyes watched you as you struggled to stay standing, gripping his hair and propping yourself up against the mirror. “Feels so good, holy fuck-” You moaned, Colby’s lips reattaching themselves to your clit. You whimpered as you felt a familiar knot form in your stomach, your legs shaking.

“Awe are you gonna cum already ma?” Chris taunted, smirking as he watched your facial expression in the mirror. You couldn’t help it, your body begging for release. “Please, please let me cum,” You pleaded. You felt Colby release your clit with a pop your knees threatening to buckle. “Cum,” Colby said assertively, lapping at your clit. You nearly fell forward as you squirted, your juices coating Colby’s face. Chris continued to ram inside of you, before the satisfying feeling of his hips stuttering ensued.

You could feel him filling your cunt, Colby’s lips curled into a mischievous grin. “Holy shit, i’ve never, fucking wow,” You gasped, nervously smiling. Chris slid out of you, Colby rising to his feet. “That was so fucking hot,” He grinned, pressing his lips against yours. You could taste your juices on his tongue, grasping onto him to stay upright in your heels. Chris took a seat on the couch behind you both, slowly stroking his length to the sight in front of him. Colby roughly grabbed your ass, his fingers borderline bruising your skin.

You groaned into his mouth, trying to keep up with his roughness. “Jump for me,” Colby murmured against your lips. You briefly pulled away, attempting to catch your breath. “I’ll tear the dress,” You say. Colby picked you up anyways, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. You could hear the fabric tearing, a gasp escaping your lips. “Colby this isn’t mine-” You began, Colby’s attention turning to your neck. You whimpered as he pushed you against the mirror, pushing himself inside of you.

Your juices and Chris’s coated his cock, your walls spasming around him as you struggled to accommodate to his size. “I’ll buy you and whoever’s this is an entire fucking wardrobe,” He grunted, sloppily kissing your neck. Looking over his shoulder you could see Chris, cheeks flushed pink with his bottom lip between his teeth. His cock was in hand, his cum now used as lubricant as he jerked himself off. “Colby please, i’m sensitive,” You whined, the slightest feeling of friction against your clit making you squirm.

Colby bucked his hips inside of you, gripping you as he rammed into you. “You can handle it, give us one more,” He whispered, groaning as his tip brushed against your g spot. His thrust felt euphoric, Chris watching him fuck you senseless only making your core throb more. Colby’s hand slithered to your throat, gently pressing the sides as you moaned his name like a mantra. “Such a pretty girl, taking me like this,” He praised. He brought himself close to your ear, nibbling at your earlobe.

“Maybe next time we’ll have you take both of us at the same time,” Colby said, thrusting up into you once more. You dug your nails into his shirt, your second orgasm approaching quickly. “I can feel you squeezing me. You like that idea huh? Having both of us fuck you senseless,” Colby chuckled darkly, squeezing your throat. You babbled a mindless agreement, one of your hands flying to his wrist. “Fuck fuck fuck, just like that, please,” You whined. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you came, your cunt creaming around Colby’s shaft.

The brunette couldn’t hold back any long, thrusting into you one last time to cum deep inside of you. When your eyelids managed to flutter open you saw Chris in the same position, his hand covered in his seed. You laid your head back against the mirror, smiling as Colby released your neck. “Awe fuck that might bruise,” He mumbled. You giggled as he set you down, your legs wobbly. “It’ll be fine. I’ll pay you back next time,” You replied, still dazed. Noticing you could hardly stand, he carried you over to the couch to sit beside Chris.

Chris was quick to throw his arm around you, pulling you against his chest. “I’m trying very hard to ignore the fact we’re sitting on a cum stained couch,” Chris admitted, causing you to giggle. Colby began fixing his hair, a knock on the door making the three of you jump. Both you and Chris panicked, trying to cover yourselves. Colby signaled for you both to wait, fixing his belt. “Who is it?” He asked loudly, not answering the door.

A very drunk Sam Golbach audibly laughed. “Dude that mirror is one way glass!” He exclaimed. You felt your face turn red, instantly scurrying to pull down your dress. Colby cracked open the door as Chris attempted to clean himself up. “Why didn’t you tell us?” He demanded. Once Chris was decent Colby let him in, the blonde bright red in the face. “Relax I was about to hook up with an old friend but noticed the glass. I single handedly guarded the room with my life, scouts honor,” Sam said, holding up his hand like he was in boy scouts. You exchanged glances with Chris, who looked equally as nervous.

“Wait you didn’t-” Chris began, Sam quick to stop him.

“Gross of course not, although what I did very briefly see was very hot if that helps,” Sam said, giving you a cheeky wink. You felt yourself blush, Colby quick to give him a small slap upside the head. “Dont flirt with her when I just- Wait, hooking up with an old friend? Sam!” Colby scolded. Sam awkwardly laughed, quickly sprinting out of the room. “We agreed not to hook up with exs get back here!” Colby yelled, sighing. Colby dashed after him, leaving both you and Chris to laugh as they disappeared.

“We should probably go after them right?”

“I’d love nothing more.”

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houseofchalamet · 1 year

Text

Biggest Fan

Pairing: Timothee Chalamet x f!Reader Summary: Reader has been absolutely filthy in the DMs and when she meets Timothée unexpectedly, he wants her to make good on her promises. Warnings: Smut (oral - male receiving), sexualizing a celebrity, technically a power imbalance, curse words. Word count: 2k

There was no way he’d ever see your DMs. He probably got thousands of messages a day; yours would get lost in a sea of countless others. And he was rarely ever on Twitter…

Still, you’d occasionally send some DMs anyway, just for the hell of it. It started tame. Telling him how much you loved his work, how excited you were for the next Dune movie… Small things like that.

And then the thirst started.

It was all because of the Oscars… The damn Oscars. God, he looked so good. You felt like you were going to explode the second the shirtless image of him appeared on your TV screen. In the heat of the moment, you whipped out your phone and began typing every lewd thought that popped into your head.

Everything about him was perfect, from his hair down to the smallest details, like the rings on his fingers. You drank in every image you could find of his bare chest. Before you knew it, you were composing the nastiest paragraph you’d ever written in your life (up until that point, at least) and hitting send without a second thought.

God, it’s almost unfair how perfect you are. You’re so fucking sexy in your sparkly little jacket. I wanna taste every inch of you. I want you to fuck my mouth and make me gag on your cock. I want your cum running down my throat. I want you to fuck me so hard and fast that all I know is your name. I want you to absolutely obliterate me. I wanna be your personal fuckdoll… I’m fucking dripping just thinking about it. I need you inside me so fucking bad. I’m such a needy slut for you.

That was just the first one, and as time went on, they grew more graphic. It became an outlet, a way to get all of this sexual energy out. Your messages ranged from short, innocent sentences to long, erotic paragraphs detailing all of the depraved things you wanted him to do to you.

But he’d never see it.

Right?

***

The club was full of drunk, sweaty bodies. You were perfectly content to stand in the corner all night with your best friend, Jess, and sway to the music, feeling the bass vibrate through the floor.

“Hey, isn’t he that guy you’re so obsessed with?” Jess asked, pointing discreetly to a group of guys in the corner.

Your jaw dropped as you realized you were standing in the presence of the Timothée Chalamet. He was with a group of friends and appeared to be having a good time. Your heart began to race in your chest.

“Come on,” Jess said, taking in your stunned appearance. She tugged your hand, starting to lead you in his direction, but you pulled back.

“Are you fucking insane? I can’t just walk right up to him, I’ll literally drop dead on the spot.”

“Okay, fine, don’t talk to him.” She held back a laugh at your outburst. “But you know if you don’t at least stand in the same general vicinity as him, you’ll hate yourself forever.”

Damn. You hated when she was right.

You both weaved through the crowd, strategically placing yourselves closer and closer every few moments without making it too obvious.

You fought the urge to keep glancing at him, though all you wanted to do was drink in his appearance. You weren’t sure you’d ever get the chance to see him in person again.

Jess was talking about something Britney had said to her earlier - you weren’t really paying too much attention - when you tried to steal a glance at exactly the wrong moment.

His eyes met yours.

And instead of looking away and pretending nothing had happened like a normal person would in this circumstance, you froze. Your eyes widened, giving you a slight deer-in-the-headlights expression. He broke into that adorable, lopsided smile you loved so much.

Then, to your surprise, he started moving toward you.

“Oh fuck, oh fuck,” you whispered to Jess.

“Wha-”

“Hey, I’m Timothée,” he said. Jess’s eyes widened, too, as she processed the situation. Holy fuck he was so close, you could smell him now. And he smelled good.

“I… I know,” you replied stupidly, the awe evident in your voice.

“I’m Jess, and this is (Y/N),” she stepped in for you. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“You too,” he smiled. His eyes flicked back to you. His brow furrowed and his head tilted to one side as he took you in, but after a few seconds, he shook his head. “Sorry, have we met before?”

“Umm…” You pretended to think for a second, even though you’d definitely remember if you’d met this literal god before. “Nope, I don’t think so.”

“Hm… Weird. I thought I recognized you from somewhere.”

You shrugged this off; he’d probably met so many fans in so many countries, there was bound to be at least one other girl somewhere who somewhat resembled you.

He was extremely nice and offered to take photos with you. He hung around to chat for a few minutes before excusing himself back to his friends. Besides your general awkwardness - which he was probably used to, judging by the way he easily brushed it off - the interaction couldn’t have gone any better.

“He’s literally my future husband,” you told Jess dreamily as you both watched him walk away.

“Not if I marry him first,” she joked.

“Hey! At least share!” You pouted.

She jokingly stuck her tongue out at you, and then her eyes scanned the room. “Well, if my marriage to Timmy doesn’t pan out, I think I just found his replacement. Mind if I go dance?”

“Nah, go right ahead,” you replied. You leaned against a wall, focusing on your phone. You posted your photo with Timmy to Instagram, and then popped onto Twitter to make the photo your profile pic. Your moots were about to go feral. For a moment, your thumb hovered over the messages icon.

Ah, why not?

Hot sweatpants, cutie. I’ll make you sweat and pant;)

You chuckled a little to yourself. God, that was a cringey one. Still, it was just for your entertainment, so why not?

You continued scrolling through Twitter, enjoying your fifteen minutes of fame as you were bombarded by a million questions, each more unhinged than the last (‘What did he smell like?’ ‘Who was he with?’ ‘Did you lick his hand? I would’ve licked his hand’ etc). You were in the middle of replying to someone when you heard a voice beside you.

“I know where I recognized you from!”

Your eyes met his green ones and your breath caught in your throat. You weren’t expecting any more attention from Timothée, but obviously welcomed it.

“Where’s that?” you asked, trying to be nonchalant. He pulled up his phone and showed you the screen.

Your eyes widened and your mouth dropped open. You were horrified as you took in Timothée’s view of your DM’s. He must have turned his read receipts off. He didn’t seem to notice your embarrassment as he scrolled up in the conversation a little.

“This is one of my favorites, ‘My ass is grass and I want you to mow it.’ Or that time you just sent the link to Deep Throat by Cupcakke.”

“Oh, god,” you said, putting your head in your hands. You couldn’t even deny that it was you; the profile picture gave you away. You wanted to spontaneously combust. “I didn’t think you’d actually see that.”

“I could tell…” he chuckled. Thankfully, he scrolled past your more… needy messages and focused on the ironic ones. “‘I would let you break my back in half, spit in my mouth, dislocate my jaw, pee on me, rip out my intestines, and then hit me with your car and I’d still be your biggest fan.’”

“Ugh, God,” you groaned.

He smirked at you and you swore his eyes flicked down to your lips for a split second. When he spoke again, the joking tone had disappeared. “You think you’re my biggest fan?”

Your mouth opened but no words came out. You drew in a sharp breath. “I- uh… y-yeah.”

His voice dropped dangerously low; you were sure no one else could hear. “Would you be willing to prove it?”

His words swam around in your head and you struggled to make sense of them. Surely, you had misunderstood… You blinked, watching as his tongue swiped over his lips.

“Absolutely.”

Before you could even process what was happening, he had taken your hand and led you down a hallway, somehow unseen by anyone else. He slipped you into a bathroom and shut the door behind you both.

Pressing you against the door, he attached his lips to yours.

You felt yourself relax into him as he kissed you deeply. Suddenly, your shy side had disappeared and in its place stood the horndog who had written all those DMs. You gently bit his bottom lip and he wound his arms around your waist, pulling you even closer. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and he ground against you. You practically moaned; he was already hard. You reached down, stroking him through his pants. He was just as big as you’d imagined.

You pushed him back until he was leaning against the sink and were on your knees in an instant, tugging down his sweatpants. You licked your lips as his dick sprang free.

“Love reading your desperate little messages over and over again…” he sighed, his head dropping back a little as you stroked him slowly.

“Mmm… Yeah?” you smirked, taking the tip between your lips and sucking lightly. His eyes rolled back and his mouth dropped open as he gripped the counter for support. You could tell he was restraining himself from bucking his hips up into you.

“Fuuuuckkk yeaaah,” he hissed. Slowly, teasingly, you began to descend on him. “God, I jack off nearly every day to them… Love seeing how needy you are for me.”

Your brain practically stopped working; the situation you found yourself in was too good to even begin to comprehend. Timothée Chalamet had just admitted to enjoying your depraved fantasies while his dick was in your mouth. Your pussy was dripping.

You hummed in response, hollowing your cheeks and bobbing your head torturously slow. He seemed to understand the game you were playing and was happy to give you more.

“Sometimes I go onto your profile and scroll through your selfies and imagine fucking you just like you want me to.” One of his hands weaved into your hair, but he didn’t apply any pressure just yet. You took all of him in your mouth now, his tip nudging the back of your throat. You came back up slowly, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft.

“Fuck,” he hissed again. You started to bob your head faster now. After a few moments, his restraint wavered and he began to thrust into you. You blinked up at him, eyes full of nothing but pure adoration as he fucked your mouth. “Fuck, (Y/N), you’re so fucking good for me… Gonna be a good girl and swallow my cum?”

“Mmmhm,” you hummed and he gasped at the feeling of your throat vibrating. He released another string of curses before you felt his hot cum shooting down your throat. You absolutely savored the moment, taking in every drop you could. You never wanted to forget this feeling; this taste.

You bobbed your head a couple more times before pulling off, causing his legs to tremble. He caught his breath, pulling his pants back up. He looked down at you, knelt on the floor before him, eyes glazed over, cheeks flushed and lips swollen.

He held out a hand to help you up, which you took. You frowned, unhappy that your encounter was over.

But as if reading your mind, he took your face in his hands. “Don’t look so disappointed. I’m not finished with you yet, love.”

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ellieslaces · 11 months

Text

FADE INTO YOU.

featuring: rookie!leon x fem stars agent!reader

synopsis: a collection of headcannons in which rookie cop leon has a crush on the reader, who’s a s.t.a.r.s agent

content warnings: harsh language; allusions to smut; make-out sessions; flirty reader; mostly wholesome content; canon divergent

notes: i was inspired by @darling-i-read-it when i saw the post abt Leon having a crush on a STARS agent and oml i haven’t stopped thinking about it so here i am yet again

now playing: Fade Into You by Mazzy Star

• Leon had just started his position as a rookie cop at the Raccoon City PD and he’s always given the worst little tasks and assignments

• one day though - about four days into his first week - he passes the STARS office on his way with boxes to the storage room and almost drops them all

• he sees without a doubt the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen in the STARS office, laughing at something the guy beside her said

• he has to pull himself together and take the boxes to storage room, his little heart hammering so fast the whole time

• Leon finally being introduced to you and the rest of the STARS team the next week when he’s instructed to take some paperwork to the STARS office

• he fell in love immediately when you walked to him, smiling widely, and taking the papers while introducing yourself

• he can hardly keep himself together as you walk him around the STARS office and introduce each agent to him

• he falls even harder when you scold each one, telling them all to be nice to him because he’s new

• after that, Leon always finds himself gravitating toward you any chance he gets — in the copy room, the kitchen, the shooting range

• you thinking he took a liking to you because you were one of the only ones who didn’t give him a hard time and to be honest, you didn’t really mind. he was sweet and totally lovable

• Leon honestly found it so insane how you were an absolute menace around the station

• like you would go around the office and flirt with a few officers to get them to do a task for you that you really didn’t want to do in the first place

• of course it always worked and they were all suckers for you

• and if he thought you were a menace on a daily bases, oh he was so surprised at how bold you were at holiday parties

• you would dance to the music in the most inappropriate ways possible for a work party

• and for some reason, it made him like you even more

• he also loved how you’d wear headphones with a walkman on your belt, and sing along, and dance to the music while you made copies or just walked around the station

• his crush on you was so bad, like next level bad

• in fact, you didn’t pick up on his crush on you at all. it was Jill who did. she never said a word of course, but she could just tell

• Leon always felt a little jealousy when he saw you talking to another agent, like Chris

• he knew you were out of his league, but he couldn’t help the hot jealousy in his chest as he would watch you laugh at something Chris said

• of course, he didn’t know that you’d rejected Chris when you first started working there and he asked you out a few times

• oh but Jill does. she loves to tease him for it, always reminding him of how you brutally shot him down

• and the teasing quickly becomes a problem when Leon walks by the STARS office one day and overhears Jill’s teasing

• of course, all Leon’s lovesick little brain processes are the words Chris, crush, and your name

• he doesn’t talk to you for two weeks. he ignores your jokes, your teases, your playful flirting (which he never ignores)

• until you finally get it out of him two weeks later in the shooting range

• he stammers and tells you he overheard Jill talking about you and Chris, and he likes you but it’s okay because he knows you don’t feel the same way, and you and Chris would be good together

• and you almost break then “oh, Leon, i don’t like Chris. Jill just likes to tease him because i rejected him when i started working here”

• Leon is obviously stunned “oh, uh, you don’t? sorry, i shouldn’t have said all that now i feel bad and -”

• “no, Leon. don’t feel bad. i actually kinda like you too you know…” you smiled sheepishly — which is pretty rare for you to be nervous

• Leon’s eyes widening to an unnatural size as he grins “you do? really? i didn’t think you’d like me i’m just a rookie.”

• “whether you’re a rookie or a trained professional, i like you. you’re really sweet and i know you’d treat me really well.”

• after that, you two start dating

• which is so fucking weird because a lot of the guys in the station — STARS and non-STARS — have been hitting on you and Jill since like the dawn of time

• it’s a little tense for Leon for a little while because a few other guys are even resentful you fell for a rookie and not them

• but of course Leon won’t say a word to them, so when he’s not around you put them in their place and tell them to leave him alone or you’ll fuck them up

• they are all obviously a little scared so they listen and start being nice - or as nice to a rookie as possible- to him again

• Leon always being so nervous and worrisome when you go in assignment

• seriously, he’ll worry himself to a point where he can’t sleep and he’ll nod off at his desk during the day

• when you finally get back, he always tells you how much he missed you and how worried he was and how he never wants you to leave him again

• but of course you always go on assignments. it’s a cruel cycle really

• you realize you were right — Leon did treat you so well. like a fucking princess honestly

• you believe you were so lucky that day when the lieutenant forced him to take paper work up to the STARS office

• Leon being literally the sweetest and best boyfriend you ever had and always making sure you’re okay and happy and safe

• but how could you not be happy? Leon is literally perfect to you and you couldn’t be happier with anyone else

how you can support Palestine! 🇵🇸

#leon kennedy #re2 leon #rookie!leon #rookie!leonkennedy #re2make #resident evil #rookie leon kennedy #raccoon city #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy headcanons #leon kennedy x fem reader #lupinsslut

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musicforastylesrestaurant · 11 months

Text

A Broken Ankle, Karma Rules.

masterlist || ask me anything <3

blurb masterlist is here.

authors note - another random idea that popped into my head… enjoy!!

word count - 1.4k

in which, going on a run with your fiancé of two years means harmless flirting and teasing, that is until an incident occurs and he has to carry you back to the car.

As you sat in the passenger seat of your fiancé's sleek Tesla, the soft hum of the engine filled the air. The anticipation of going on a run together at the park was palpable, as you both waited for the perfect moment to step out of the car and immerse yourselves in the fresh air and lush greenery.

You glanced over at Harry, your heart swelling with love and excitement. His curly hair framed his face in a charming disarray, and his eyes sparkled with mischief. He wore a mischievous grin, as if he knew a secret that only the two of you shared.

"Ready for our run, m’love?" Harry asked, his voice filled with eagerness.

You nodded, smiling back at him. "Definitely! Although, I have to say, you're lucky I agreed to this. Dragging me out of bed at this hour is no easy feat."

Harry knew for a fact that you weren’t a morning person.

Harry chuckled, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Oh, come on now. You know I couldn't resist spending this time with you. Besides, it's good for us to get our blood pumping early in the morning."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Well, I hope you appreciate the effort I'm putting in here. I'm not exactly a morning person, you know."

He leaned in, his voice turning husky. "I'll make it worth your while, darling. I promise."

Feeling a surge of anticipation, you reached for your water bottles and grabbed the car keys. "Alright, let's do this! Time to step out and conquer that park."

You both hopped out of the car, the cool breeze enveloping you. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a single AirPod, holding it up to you.

"Shall we share the music?" he asked, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.

You grinned and took the AirPod, placing it delicately in your ear, the familiar chords of ‘eye of the river’ rang through your ears, that was enough to get you motivated for the run.

As the music started to play, you noticed that Harry had already started moving, his athletic figure bounding ahead.

His back was bare seeing as the weather was insanely hot currently and he was wearing a pair of blue running shorts, and his pink Calvin kelvin’s were on display.

You could feel yourself getting slightly worked up, the cheeky git always did then when the two of you were in public.

"Hey, wait up!" you called after him, a mix of laughter and exhilaration in your voice.

He slowed down, turning back to you with a playful grin. "You better catch up, love. We've got a run to conquer together."

As you jogged side by side with your fiancé Harry, the rhythmic sound of your footsteps echoed through the crisp morning air. The park was alive with activity, but your focus remained on the playful banter and connection between you.

As you chatted about your plans for the day, Harry couldn't resist a mischievous grin. With a sudden motion, he playfully reached out and tickled your hips, causing you to let out a surprised giggle and slow down.

"Hey!" you exclaimed, swatting his hand away. "That's not fair! You're distracting me!"

Harry laughed, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "I couldn't resist. You were just too tempting. But now, I'm afraid you'll have to catch up to me.”

A competitive fire ignited within you, and you shot him a determined glance. "Challenge accepted, slowpoke. Get ready to eat my dust."

With a burst of energy, you picked up the pace and raced past Harry, your feet pounding against the pavement. The wind rushed through your hair as you surged forward, leaving him momentarily in your wake.

Glancing over your shoulder, you called out with a triumphant smile, "Come on, Harry! I thought you said you were a professional runner!"

Harry laughed, his voice filled with mock protest. "Oh, you're in for it now! Just you wait, I'll catch up!"

You continued to push yourself, feeling the thrill of the friendly competition fueling your every stride. The playful taunts and laughter added a layer of joy to the run, reminding you of the deep connection you shared.

Soon enough, Harry's footsteps grew louder behind you as he closed the gap. With a final burst of determination, he ran alongside you, matching your pace.

"There you are," Harry said, a playful grin on his face. "I told you I'd catch up."

You grinned back, the exhilaration of the run shining in your eyes. "Well, I had to give you a head start, didn't I? Just to make it a fair race."

Harry's laughter echoed through the park as you both continued to run side by side, the competitive spirit subsiding to be replaced by a shared sense of joy and camaraderie.

You know, Harry," you said with a playful smirk, "I think I might have to start calling you 'Slowpoke' as your official nickname."

Harry chuckled, his competitive spirit ignited. "Oh, really? We'll see about that. Prepare to eat my dust, love."

With a wink, you took off, your feet hitting the pavement with purpose. You could hear Harry's footsteps behind you, gradually fading as you increase your pace.

Feeling mischievous, you decided to test the limits. You picked up even more speed, savouring the thrill of the wind rushing past you. Unbeknownst to you, Harry slowed down, taking a short water break to quench his thirst.

As you continued to jog ahead, revelling in the playfulness of the moment, your foot caught on an uneven patch of ground, causing you to lose your balance. Pain shot through your ankle, and you let out a cry of distress.

Hearing your scream, Harry's heart skipped a beat. Without a second thought, he abandoned his water bottle and sprinted in the direction of your voice. Fear and concern propelled him forward, his mind focused on reaching you as quickly as possible.

When he finally caught sight of you, lying on the ground and cradling your injured ankle, his heart sank. Kneeling down beside you, he gently cupped your face with his hands.

"Love, are you okay? What happened?" Harry asked, his voice filled with worry.

You winced, tears welling up in your eyes. "I... I think I’ve broken… my ankle. It hurts so much, H..Harry."

Concern etched across his face, Harry carefully examined your ankle. "Let me help you up. We'll get you to the hospital, alright?"

As Harry saw the pain etched on your face, he made a firm decision. "Lovie, I'm going to carry you to the car. I don't want you putting any weight on that ankle."

You nodded, tears streaming down your cheeks. "O-okay, H…. Thank you."

Gently, Harry scooped you up in his arms, his strength enveloping you. Despite his efforts to be careful, each step caused a jolt of pain to shoot through your ankle. Whimpers escaped your lips, and you clung tightly to him, burying your face into the crook of his neck.

The sobs that wracked your body echoed in the air, and Harry's heart ached at the sound. He tightened his hold on you, his voice filled with soothing reassurance. "Shh, love. I'm here. I've got you. Just hold on, we're almost back at the car."

His comforting words offered a glimmer of solace amidst the pain. The warmth of his body pressed against yours, and his steady heartbeat served as a calming rhythm. He continued to carry you, navigating the path with careful steps, determined to get you to safety as quickly as possible.

With each passing moment, his tender support and unwavering presence began to ease the anguish. You clung to him, seeking solace in his embrace, knowing that you were not alone in this moment of vulnerability.

Finally, you reached the car, and Harry gently settled you in the passenger seat. He quickly moved around to the driver's side, his eyes filled with concern as he started the engine.

"You're doing so well, love," he murmured, his voice filled with tenderness. "We'll get you to the hospital, it’s bruising really quickly, m'love, and I'll take care of you."

As the car pulled away from the park, you let out another sob, the emotions overwhelming you. Harry reached over, taking your hand in his, his touch a comforting anchor in the midst of your pain.

He glanced at you, his eyes filled with compassion. "It's alright to cry, love. Let it out. I'm here for you."

That was the last time you were going to be narcissistic ever again if this is what it led to.

But you know what they say:

Broken Ankle, Karma Rules.

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bkaulitzz · 10 months

Text

𝐅𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐭 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬

smut from one of my wattpad one shots b_kaulitzz is the @ if u wanna check out more :))

————————————————————————

warnings/info: p n v, degrading, praising, protected sex, afab reader, fem x bill, oral! m receiving and f receiving, USAGE OF Y/N

synopsis: y/n and bill are college students, and y/n has a secret second life?

more under cut :)

I chewed on my pen, looking over at the black-haired male from time to time. The lecture hall was filled with whispered chatter, bright light blaring into our eyes during this early morning. I just wanted to get out of this class, did the professor really have to make us do partner work? I looked over to his surface, watching him scribble stuff down in his notebook. "Could you at least actually write?" I grumbled. Bill looked over to me with a glare, digging his pen into his notebook.

"Well, maybe if you helped me?? You're just sitting and watching, " He scoffed. I clenched my notebook and furrowed my brows.

"I am! I wanted you to look up the definition!" I huffed and pushed the textbook in his direction. He rolled his eyes and placed his pen down.

"Then, what the hell are you doing?" He raised an eyebrow and opened the glossary. I instinctively rolled my eyes back to think, before looking back down at him.

"I'll do the poster, " I pressed my lips together and watched as he glared at me. I wanted to wipe that look off him, he always drove me insane.

"Like you'll do it this time, maybe YOU should do the definitions, " Bill scoffed and shoved his notebook over to me. I raised my arms, gritting my teeth as my supplies rolled over to the left side.

"I did do the poster last time! Can you just do the damn definitions?" I shoved his notebook back and he rolled his eyes, as I collected my pens back into place.

"Sure, anything for you sweetheart, " He gave me a mocking smirk, before writing down the definitions.

"Thanks, " I rolled my eyes, he always gave me a little pet name when he was annoyed with me. It was annoying to hear from his lips. I put my earbuds in, to ignore him while doing more research in another textbook. After 30 minutes, I finally got two whole pages down, from top to bottom. I smiled down at my notes, the side of my palm covered in blue ink. I took out my earbuds, turning to Bill. "How much did you get down?" I asked, and he pushed over his notebook again, it was also filled with needed definitions.

"Is that enough for you, little princess?" He said in a mocking tone, giving me doe eyes. I sighed, looking over it with a grin.

"Yea, actually. Good job, doggy, " I mocked back, Bill sucked his teeth and took his notebook back. The bell rang and I shoved all my supplies back into my bag. Finally. I thought, I was so glad I only had one class for the day. I put my back over my shoulder and quickly left. Bill watched with a raised eyebrow as he packed up.

***

I sat at my vanity, fixing my brunette wig, gently fixing the curls. I leaned over, fixing the spaghetti straps of my top before picking up the eyeliner to fix my makeup. The faint club music could be heard, as I sat there with the other strippers. They gossiped about their boyfriends, and I listened in and put in my input from time to time. I smacked my lips, the gloss shimmering as I sat back to look at myself. It was my favorite part of this job, dolling up for the show. It was so hard to compete with other strippers though, I've only been here for a few weeks and all the customers wanted the same girls. Who could blame them though? They were all beautiful. Candy looked over in at me with awe, holding a big grin.

"You look amazing, Chanel, " She winked, rubbing my shoulder. It was the name I chose, to hide my real life away. I turned to her with a smile, her compliments meant everything to me. She made me feel ten times hotter than I already looked.

"Thank you, I hope everything goes well tonight, " I sighed and leaned down to fix my black stilettos. She eyed me up and down with a smirk.

"You'll do amazing as always, you should go though. People are waiting, " She whispered, I widened my eyes and quickly got up after I fixed my right stiletto. She blew a kiss at me as I started inching towards the stage area. "Good luck!" She called out, my heart raced as I heard the music start.

I bit my lip, holding eye contact with some of the hungry men as I walked out. They hollered and whistled as I cat walked to the pole on the stage above them, before swaying my hips. I felt as if I was a piece of candy, surrounded by a crowd of toddlers. I danced to the music while grabbing a hold of the cold metal pole, feeling money fly around me, the music pounding in my chest. I put my whole body into the music, continuing to sway to the music and putting on a tease show for them. Flashing colored lights on me as I continued. I gulped as I smoothly went down the stage after some time, trying not to stiffen up as I walked into the crowd of men. I scoped out the place for a person to choose, my knees were bound to give up on me as I walked towards him. But, before I could even reach him, I felt a hand on my wrist pulling me over gently to their couch. I yelped and my eyes were wide, looking down at the male. They only opened more as I looked down at him, his lids were covered in black eyeshadow. I couldn't believe my eyes. Bill bit his lip up at me, tilting his head.

"Hey, sexy. I've never seen you here, are you new?" He hummed as I stood in front of him, another stripper beginning her show on stage behind us. I laughed nervously, no way. I swallowed the lump in my throat, it felt as if my throat was tightening if I kept looking down at him. "I didn't mean to scare you, sweets, what's your name at least?" He asked, I let out a breath of relief. I felt as if the weight on my shoulders lifted, so he can't tell. I bit my lip as I straddled his lap, he was so annoying in class but with him looking like this, I couldn't pass it.

"Chanel, " I spoke, hoping he couldn't recognize my voice. He held my hips as I grinded onto him, he bit his lip as he looked up at me.

"God, I want you to myself, could I rent a room with you for a few hours?" He smirked, rubbing my sides. I held his shoulders and tilted my head, continuing to grind at him.

"At what cost?" I raised an eyebrow and his breath began to go heavy. He bit his lip with a smile, leaning into my ear to whisper.

"I'll give you a night to remember, " Bill's warm breath against my ear caused me to shiver, and my heart skipped a beat. He leaned back and gave me a devious smile. I nibbled on my bottom lip and thought for a bit as I continued to grind.

"Fine, but only two hours, " I let out and slid off his lap. He stood up, still towering over me even with my stilettos on.

"I won't waste a minute, " He spoke as I took his wrist, leading him to the back and up the stairs, the music fainting behind us. I pushed an empty room door open, pulling him in and locking the door behind us. He looked around, his eyebrows raised. "Mirrors?"

"Yea, you get to see the show from every angle, " I winked and he pulled me over to the bed. There were mirrors above us, in front of us, and even a few individual mirrors leaning against a corner of the pink-salmon-painted walls. He sat down, pulling me beside him.

"Tell me what you want, " He hummed and took a lock of my wig, curling it in his finger. I gulped and squinted at him.

"What do I want? I'm used to being told what to do, " I said with a nervous laugh. He tilted his head and moved his hand over to my neck, caressing the side.

"You rather be told what to do?" He came close and caressed my cheek with his thumb. I felt my face heat up as he spoke. He always drove me nuts, yet here he was making me go tingly under his touch. He smiled down at me, his nose nearly on mine.

"Well, hm, " I looked down and thought for a few seconds, before looking back up at him. I raised a hand onto his cheek, leaning in to give him a deep kiss. He hummed and closed his eyes, tilting his head to deepen the kiss. I felt butterflies in my stomach, his lips felt like they were hugging mine. I moved a hand down to his torso, rubbing it up and down before moving it to his crotch. His breath hitched as he felt my hand palm him, smirking against my lip as he moved his hand to my neck. He pulled away, leaving kiss trails down my neck. I panted softly, feeling him kiss around before leaving love bites. I winced, closing my eyes as I let out soft moans. "B- I mean, god please I want to please you, " I grit my teeth, looking down at him. He pulled away and leaned back, a hand on my thigh as he rubbed.

"Please me? You're already pleasing me enough, " Bill gave a small smile as he squeezed my thigh.

"I know, I know. But, you are the client, " I spoke, sliding off the bed and to my knees. I sat on my legs, between his knees as he looked down at me. I slithered my hands to his belt, unbuckling it and soon undoing his pants. He nibbled on his lip as he watched.

"You look so beautiful from this angle, " He said, I felt my face heat up, looking away from his eyes to continue. He looked into the mirror in front of us, biting his lip from the view. He eyed my body from the mirror and the front, his eyes flickering between my curves and cleavage. He smirked, helping me as he pulled his pants down a bit, pulling out his hard length. I widened my eyes, looking up at him as I took it in my hand. His mouth hung low, and feeling my hand around him caused him to let out small whimpers. My free hand took out a condom from my top, the other still pumping him. "You're doing so well, " He let out as I tore the condom package with my teeth. I placed the condom in my mouth, positioning it as the rim lined up with my lips. I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I pumped him. Bill gripped the bed sheets as he watched me, my mouth in an 'o' shape as I placed it to his tip. I took him whole, the condom unraveling and wrapping around him. I gagged and looked up at him with tears in my eyes, pulling off with a pop. He gasped at the trick, and I gave him a small smile in return. "Let me please you, " He took my wrist and pulled me up onto the bed, laying me down. "Can I?" He asked as he crawled on top of me.

"I'd love to see what you can do, " I smirked at him, yet more butterflies formed in my stomach as he continued. He made me feel so weak in the knees, I felt like melted butter under his touch. Bill smiled at me, leaning down to kiss my collarbone. He trailed soft kisses down to my stomach. My breath hitched, trembling as he came down lower, a finger under my thong strap.

"Tell me if I should ever stop, " He looked up at me for reassurance, and I only nodded as he continued. I pressed my lips together as he slid my thong to my ankles. He slid off the bed and pulled me close by my thighs, kissing around my core. "You're soaking wet, all for me." He said and I felt my face heat up, I let out a sharp gasp as I felt cold metal glide against my clit. I covered my mouth, feeling his tongue flick against my clit. "Right there?" He hummed and kissed my clit, sucking on it. I clenched my eyes shut, my thighs going to close but was forced open by his hands. I let out muffled moans under my hand, arching my back. "You taste so sweet, let them know how good I make you feel, " He spoke against my core, before licking the folds. I removed my hand, whimpering.

"B- B," I managed to get out, reaching down to pull his hair. He let out a slight moan, sucking and nibbling on my clit.

"What are you saying? You dumb slut, can't control yourself?" He degraded, and I felt vibrations against my clit, arching my back more. He slid two fingers into my core, curling them for my G-spot. Once he did, I let out a loud cry of pleasure. "That's right, good girl. Tell them how good I make you feel, " Bill sucked on my clit, my thighs shaking as I gripped a handful of his hair.

"Fuck! You feel so good, fuck, " I let out, he was going to make me lose my cover. I grinded against his tongue, letting out moans.

"Look at me, " He demanded, I whimpered as I looked down at him. I pushed his head, grinding against his face as he held my thighs. Bill glided his tongue against me, causing me to only moan louder.

"Fuck- I'm-" I felt my thighs shake, clenching my eyes shut as I released all over his mouth. He licked all the liquid up as he rubbed my thighs, coming up to kiss my lips hungrily. I breathed heavily against his lips as he laid beside me. I rubbed his chest up and down, before straddling over his lap. He held my waist, my hands in his hair as our lips never left one another. I pulled away from the kiss, leaving kisses on his neck as I left trails of hickeys. I leaned back, swallowing a lump in my throat as we breathed heavily. I looked pumped his member, aligning him to my core. He let out soft moans, holding my sides.

"Are you sure?" Bill asked, I nodded before slowly sliding down onto his member. I let out a sharp moan, taking him whole. He let out a groan, looking up at me as he held my hips to help guide me down. "Fuck, you're such a good slut, taking me whole, " He breathed out, I placed my hands on his lower torso, whimpering as I felt him. I began to grind against him, slowly bouncing up and down. He looked up at the mirror above us, only getting turned on more. He threw his head back as he felt me around him, letting out loud moans.

"Fuck, Bi-...Fuck, you feel so good, " I cried out, my head hung low as my legs shook, not being able to continue. He watched, taking my waist and bucking his hips into me.

"You're doing so good, letting me fuck your pussy like this. You slut, " He breathed out, as I let out moans and cries. I clenched his shirt, leaning down as I laid my head into the crook of his neck. He flipped us, laying me on my back as he began to thrust into me. I wrapped my legs around his waist, gripping the bed sheets. I cursed out as I moaned in pleasure, his nails digging into my hips. "You pretty dumb slut, can't even make out words, " Bill moaned out, a hand raising to my jaw to turn my face to him. "Look at me, I wanna see your pretty face, " He pounded into me, causing my moans to go silent as I looked up at him. My mouth was agape as he pounded into my G-spot. I felt a coil in my stomach, arching my back.

"I- I- Close, " I managed to get out, he leaned down to plant his lips onto mine.

"Together, " He said and moaned against my lips as his thrusts became sloppy. My legs shook as I released around his member, Bill releasing into his condom. We breathed heavily as he fell beside me. I turned to him, laying on my side as he stared back into my eyes.

"That...was amazing, " I breathed out, reaching out to caress his cheek. He smiled, leaning in to kiss my nose.

"You were amazing, " Bill lifted his thumb near my eyes, wiping a bit of smudged eyeliner off my face. I looked down at the hickeys on his neck, my heart sinking as I remembered the hickeys on mine. I press my lips together, I'll just worry about that later. I looked back up at him, gulping.

"I never got your name, by the way, " I hummed, he gave me a crooked smile as he raised an eyebrow.

"It's Bill, " He caressed my cheek with his thumb, pecking my lips.

"I hope to meet again, " I murmured and he wrapped his arms around my waist to pull me close. He pecked my nose and massaged my sides.

"I hope so too, sweetheart."

***

I sat in the lecture hall, clicking on my pen as I fanned myself, waiting for Bill to come. The hall was filling up as people made their way in. I looked up at Bill as he walked to his seat next to me, sighing in relief. He settled down and raised an eyebrow as he looked at me.

"Why are you wearing a turtle neck? It's 100 degrees out, " He said and I rolled my eyes as I eyed him up and down, he wore just a simple plain band shirt. My heart was pounding as his neck was still scattered with hickeys.

"I'm feeling a bit...sick, " I let out a cough, continuing to fan myself. Bill shrugged and continued to open his notebook. I hummed and opened my notebook after him. "So...what are we gonna do?"

"I'll get a posterboard by Thursday, " He turned towards me, yawning as he covered his mouth.

"Good idea, " I said and nibbled on my bottom lip, clicking the pen faster. I looked away from his eyes, keeping my eyes on my paper.

"What's wrong?" He furrowed his brows as he tried to get my attention.

"Nothing, nothing. Just wanna get to work, " I laughed nervously and started to doodle on my paper, looking back up at him.

"Right...you're weird as always, " Bill teased as he kept eye contact.

"Weird?? Me? Have you seen yourself?" I scoffed and pulled at the turtle neck a bit, to let cool air in. He bit his lip as he looked down at my neck and back up at me.

"I'm not as weird as you, " He tilted his head, the corner of his lips curling up.

"I'm not weird! Bill, just focus on our assignment, " I growled a bit as I clenched my notebook.

"Fine, fine..." He sighed and gazed over features for a few seconds. "And by the way, " He said and held a smirk as he came close to my ear, whispering. "I enjoyed last night, Chanel, " His voice was slick like honey, and I widened my eyes looking over at him.

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painted-bees · 7 months

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part i

Hitting a cafe during rush hour wasn’t Raf’s definition of a fun idea, and he was well practised in the art of saying ‘no’. Yet, for some reason or another, that skill failed to find him when the wide-eyed little Portasound busker insisted on treating him to a coffee.

The streets outside Granville Station were abuzz with traffic of all kinds. The wide sidewalks were, at least, accommodating to the amount of pedestrians that relied on them during the city’s busiest times of day. The same could not be said for the roads as cars rolled slowly forward, bumper to bumper. Still, the ambience was manageable despite all the bustle. Only the hissing, honking noises of transit bus breaks would coax the occasional wince out of him in their random, unpredictable intervals.

The little Portasound busker, ‘Magritte’, kept up beside him in lock step. She hadn’t stopped talking since they began their walk together and, in honesty, he preferred it that way. She was a disheveled little thing, more than a head shorter than he was. Her manner of dress was as sloppy as the thick bundle of curly, dark red hair that flopped loosely atop her head. Her grey sweater was several sizes too large, covering her to the knees. With sleeves that hung far past her hands if she didn’t scrunch them in her palms. Black leggings were tucked into knock-off ugg boots whose soles had eroded so severely on the outer edge, Raf was concerned she’d roll an ankle if he made her walk too briskly. She smiled so vehemently as she spoke, that her lips rarely closed around consonants, making it difficult to understand her at times.

“–so when my dad was like, ‘you can stay here and work, or you can move out and do your music stuff’, I moved out. That was like…oh–almost three years! I was eighteen. I just turned twenty-one today!” She accompanied that last sentence with a joyful little skip that caused Raf to turn his head and watch her.

“Well, happy birthday.” He exhaled a small laugh. “Vancouver’s an expensive place to live, but house hunting here probably already gave you the full story on that.”

“Rent’s insane,” Magritte echoed his small chuckle. “But the weather’s way more agreeable in the winter, which is what I’m after. And the music scene! I heard there were tons of musicians in Van, and look–I’ve already met two in the first few hours of being here!”

“Oh, you’ll meet more.” The way he said it made it sound more cautioning than he intended and he diffused it with a snort. “Guess the music stuff must have paid off after all, if you can afford a place in the city.”

There was silence between them and Magritte chewed the nail of her forefinger for a moment. “It actually hasn’t, I’m not a professional musician by any means. I’m just really good at finding a lot of short term work and stuff. Sometimes it’s music related, but not often enough to call it a living.”

“Mmh.” Raf glanced down at her. The bounce in her step had vanished and he watched her chew on her lip beneath a knitted brow. With a shrug he said, “You sounded good in the station, all things considered. You stopped, you listened, you came in at appropriate moments, you improvised really well. The pieces I played weren’t really…great for busking…and demanded a lot more than what your little keyboard could reasonably provide, but even your rests were composed and natural. You didn’t drop off abruptly any time the melody brought you past the range of your keys, you played into it.” He smirked. “I’m not gonna lie and say we did a great justice to Paganini today or anything, but I was very surprised by what you were able to pull off. I dunno, seemed like the chops of a professional to me.”

That brought the bounce back into her step, though she continued to chew on her lower lip. Raf was content to see her spirits buoyed at least somewhat by his sentiments. He hadn’t embedded a single white lie into his assessment.

They arrived at the cafe of his choosing; a popular spot, very near to the station, named Caffe Artigiano. The outside seating was full up with patrons, but Raf hoped the inside would be a quieter space to sit anyways. Opening the door, he followed Magritte in. It was busier than he would have liked, but he couldn’t have expected differently, considering the hour. Still, one thing he appreciated about the place was that it did not play music. Only the sound of numerous quiet conversations filled the air. Raf gravitated towards a freshly vacated table in a far corner, and Magritte followed him to it. Her gaze hung on the coffee menu that loomed above the counter.

He waited for Magritte to pick her seat before gently offloading his violin case onto the seat across from her. “I’ll go order. Was it a latte you said you wanted?”

“Actually…” She let out an indecisive little sigh. “A mocha, I think. I want…choco. Oh, but–!” She dropped her duffel bag onto the ground before unzipping a side pouch and pulling out the twenty dollar bill that had found its way into her upturned ball cap at the station. She held it out to him. “With this! Please?”

He hesitated before taking the bill from her. “Yes, ma’am.” There was no point in telling her that the twenty had been his before it became hers. The thought was what mattered.

The line at the counter wasn’t long, despite the busy patronage, and Raf soon returned to their table and evicted his violin case out of the seat across from Magritte. Finding an unused chair from a nearby table, he pulled it up next to him and sat his carrying case on it.

He reached over the table to hand Magritte the change, and she stared at it blankly for a moment before saying, “–Oh!” with a bit of a start. She turned her palm up to receive it.

Magritte stuffed the money back into the pocket of her duffel bag. “So, Question.” She sat back up and looked to Raf. “You say you’re not a professional, but you sound like...you know…Properly trained, or whatever.”

“Mmh.” It was a predictable topic, but not one he wanted to stay on. “Or whatever.” He laughed. “Yeah. Parents pushed it onto me a little too hard. I’ve got the training, but playing it is a chore and I kinda hate it.”

Magritte’s eyes grew wide and rueful and she shrank against the backrest of her chair. “Wait, really?” She covered her face with the sleeves of her sweater and threw her head back with a guilty little groan. “I’m sorry, I made you play so many songs!”

Raf patted the air in front of him in a placating gesture, “No, no. You didn’t make me do anything, relax.” He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “I did that to myself. I meant it, though, when I said it was fun. It was the first time in a long while where I actually enjoyed myself once things got going.”

Magritte drew in a deep breath, recollecting herself before tentatively asking, “Enough that you’d wanna do it again sometime?”

A beleaguered laugh escaped him, “No.” He had given her much of his time and energy already, and being asked for more put a bitter taste in his mouth. The arrival of his iced americano and her hot mocha couldn’t have been better timed. As soon as it was placed in front of him, he brought the drink to his lips and took a long sip.

Magritte sheepishly turned her gaze down to admire the little white hearts in the foam of her coffee before she started to drink it. She placed the cup back down but kept both hands curled around it. “Did you enjoy it when you were younger?”

“Music?” Raf shrugged. “I don’t remember. It doesn’t really matter.” His gaze turned down towards her duffel bag as he grasped for a better topic. “Is your main instrument the piano?”

“Yeah! It’s what I had access to, growing up.”

“Who taught you?”

“Oh, I, uh…mostly just the internet and stuff. My parents didn’t wanna waste money on it, and my highschool didn’t have like…a music class or anything. Just choir. None of my friends played music.”

“...You learned online?”

“Well, like…on Myspace and LiveJournal. Lots of people share what they know there, and I made some really good online friends who tried to teach me things. We’d share music with each other and do weekly challenges and stuff. It was fun.”

“So, self-taught, more or less.”

“Mostly. Oh, except–!” Magritte ducked down to unzip the main pocket of her duffel bag and dove her hands into it. She rummaged around until she produced a small mp3 player and earbuds attached by a chord. “There was a year when I was living in Montreal, my girlfriend was a jazz pianist. And then we met other, um…friends who taught me more in that one year than I think I ever learned in my entire life. It was her and a whole lotta horns. They all let me use their instruments and taught me proper technique and stuff. I think they liked watching me stubbornly struggle with it. In the end, I was only able to record one song before I had to, um, move on. But I’m still kinda proud of it. I dunno if you wanna–it’s instrumental and kinda eclectic, but I loved making it.”

In response, Raf extended his hand, and Magritte spent a second scrolling through her library of mp3s before stuffing the little music device and earbuds into his open palm.

She performed an excited little wiggle in her seat as Raf wordlessly placed an earbud into his ear. “Just hit play, and it should be the right song.”

Raf wasn’t sure what he had expected to hear. He was, at least, perfectly comfortable with listening and offering his honest input. He didn’t believe in ‘bad’ music. There was skilled and unskilled music, there was music that fit his tastes and music that really didn’t. But none of it was bad. All music created deserved to be created and allowed to exist–if only for the satisfaction of the musician who produced it. He was prepared to tell her that the best music she could make is the music she enjoyed making, even if it didn’t resonate with his personal tastes. He pressed ‘play’.

What hit his ear was an uptempo half-time funk sound carried on a unison horn line; crystal clear, well mixed, high quality audio. Right from the jump, the sound had a quirky, catching character. He fitted the other earbud into his ear as a sustained note leapt into an energetic, off-beat ska groove. His brow furrowed deeply as he tried to discern the instrumentation. The drum fill might have been digital, but the winds sounded far too dynamic to be synthetic. And there were…three of them; the two horns he couldn’t quite specify, and then a baritone sax. The horns took centre stage, confident and playful, supported by a jaunty walking bassline and synthetic, bubbly organ accompaniment. Despite its G minor key signature, the character of the piece was lively and a little goofy, smart but playful; it was simply–fun. A smile lit across his face as the melody modulated G minor into G Phrygian for the bridge section. The effect was a jesting ooh gonna getcha vibe.

He listened to the end of the song before he began to comment on it. “Very cool. Your jazz friends weren’t sleeping on their music theory classes. I assume the organ is you?”

Magritte shifted nervously in her seat as her thumb smoothed over the handle of her coffee cup in small, repeated strokes. “I borrowed instruments for this one and recorded it in…um, my girlfriend’s parents' house. They had a music room where I was allowed to record things.”

“You borrowed–right. But the horns..?”

“Yeah.”

Raf levelled a measuring stare at her.

“I recorded each instrument separately,” she began explaining, “It’s uh, piano, trumpet, trombone, and–oh! The baritone sax was played by Sadie, one of my, um…jazz friends.” She let out a weak laugh. “And then, like…a bass, I also played. And a synthetic drum fill ‘cus…none of us knew how to actually play drums.”

“You played each instrument? Learned them and recorded this song within the span…of a year?”

“No, just the trumpet and trombone! I already knew piano and bass.” Confusion must have been apparent on Raf’s face, and she tried to address it by saying, “It’s all digitally processed, so it sounds a little more–”

“No, I–I know that.” Raf massaged an eyebrow with one hand. “You’re the songwriter too, I assume?” His tone was a little more sharp than he’d have liked it to be. It betrayed his incredulity.

Magritte picked up her cup and eyed him nervously over the rim as she sipped from it.

“No, I don’t know how.” She sounded embarrassed. “I can’t read or write music. I just sketched a bunch of it out digitally first, and then–”

“Fresh compositions? By ear?”

“Yeah. And then I recreated it with the correct instrumentation.” She chewed on the nail of her thumb. “It works, I think.”

“That’s still songwriting. It counts.” Raf sniffed and leaned back in his seat. “I gotta be honest, and don’t take this the wrong way but…it’s a little hard to believe.”

Magritte’s nervousness dissolved into a flattered grin. “Yeah?”

Raf’s brow twitched downward as he tried to read past her demeanour. He had expected a more sheepish response, if not a more defensive one. His doubt wasn’t intended as a compliment, but if she were being wholly honest with him, perhaps it made sense that she’d take it as one.

He drained the last of his americano. “So, you’re not pursuing this professionally, because..?”

“Oh, I am!” Magritte shrugged and turned her eyes to the upper right corner of the room. “It’s just been kinda…difficult.”

“Yeah? Why’s that?” It was a stupid question he already knew the answer to. Music was more easy to find nowadays than ever before, but discoverability still relied on knowing how to promote the work and get the right ears onto it. And, across the entire spectrum of skill, this is what everyone tended to blame for the inability to live off their–

“Money.”

“M–!” The response was so sudden and matter-of-fact in tone, Raf couldn’t stop a bark of surprised laughter from escaping him. He’d have laughed the same way if someone had just dumped a bucket of ice water over his head.

Magritte slapped her palms down on the table and leaned forward with wide eyes to state her defence. “Instruments are expensive, lessons are expensive, computers are expensive, software and sound libraries are expensive! Everything’s so expensive!” She slumped back in her seat, turning her palms over in an exasperated gesture. “If I could afford to go to school and actually like–learn music, and if I could afford to rent instruments and recording equipment and stuff, I could make more songs! I could upload like…whole albums! I’ve got all these doodles with my shitty midi libraries and they might sound actually good if I could just record them properly! But it’s been like…four years since I left home, and the only properly produced track I have to show for it is that one.” She flopped her hand towards the mp3 player on the table. “So, I just make my little digital doodles, and I come up with tunes that suit the sounds I have access to. I like it. I’m happy I get to make any music at all, but it’s a bit niche, you know? And I have all these other ideas in my head that need like…better, less…synthetic sounds. There are libraries that sound pretty convincing, but all the best ones are…expensive. And vocals are hard to record with the stuff I’ve got.”

Raf held up his hands in effort to placate her. “No, I know, you’re right–money. I just–” It wasn’t a struggle he had ever faced, and he couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a heel over the fact that he hadn’t even considered it as an obstacle to the extent that she was describing it.

“On the other hand,” Magritte’s voice took on a capitulating tone, “With the right skill, I should be able to produce bangers with whatever I’ve got, yeah? And,” she took up her coffee cup in one hand, staring into its contents, “if I was better at saving money, I’d be able to afford those really good sample libraries just fine, probably. I just like my sweet foamy lattes too much.” She sighed a little laugh at herself.

Raf let out a low groan of disagreement, but didn’t elaborate on it. “I kinda…want to listen to those ‘digital doodles’ you mentioned.” If nothing else, it’d give him an idea of how much input her jazz friends had over the composition of the song he heard. If the obvious compositional prowess flexed in that fun-loving jazzy ska piece were completely absent in her little sketches, he wouldn’t chalk it up to being just a fluke.

Drawing in a deep breath and holding it, Margritte reached for the mp3 player and scrolled through its contents before handing it to Raf. “You can just skip through these as you like. It’s all a little–” She wrinkled her nose and let out a grunt in place of any real adjective.

With an affirming little snort of his own, Raf took the little music player and put the earbuds into his ears once more. He pressed play, and immediately understood what she meant. The synthetic instrumentation was wholly lacking in dynamics, and the musical ideas present in the melodies begged for more colourful phrasing. As he skipped from one song to the next, he grew more frustrated. The compositional writing was good. Consistent with the first song he had heard, Magritte seemed to really love playing with eccentric progressions and modulations that were unconventional for the mood or emotion that the song was attempting to capture. And ever present in each little composition was this boundless sense of joy. But god, the instrumentation (or rather, the lack thereof) really, really held it all back.

As he listened, his lips pressed into a thin line. Finally, with a low groan that betrayed his thoughts, he took out the earbuds and handed the music player back. “Yeah, that sucks.” The end of that statement stuck in his throat as he sputtered to clarify, “Not the music–”

“Yes, the music.” Magritte’s giggle was one of genuine affirmation as she tucked the mp3 player away into her duffle bag.

“No,” Raf argued, “your toolset. There’s a lot of skill here, but the cheap synthy sounds aren’t doing it any favours. You went absolutely ham on those horns in the first song, and I don’t hear any of that in these sketches because it’s just not possible. There’s a lot of energy that is just…missing. Even watching you play at the station, yeah your keyboard suffers the same limitations, but at least in person I noticed you’ll even make use of like…the percussion of your fingers hitting the keys, which, you know…is dynamic.”

As he spoke, Magritte retained a smile and provided small nods before asking, “You like it, then?”

Raf leaned back, folded his arms and chewed on the question for a second before replying, “Yeah. I do. A lot.”

A lot.

There was a corner of his mind that begged him to get back home to his apartment and try out the melodies with an instrument that could do it proper justice. Jesus Christ, this actually makes me want to play the violin.

The realisation made his lip curl with a feeling in his gut that he couldn’t quite identify. “You know…”

Magritte, taking the last remaining sips of her latte, turned her eyes up at him with a little “Hm?”

There was a pause while Raf wrestled with himself. “I, uh…work at a recording studio not too far from here. Just down on uh…Powell Street.” He felt his jaw clench. There was no good reason for him to tell strangers about where he worked. There was no possible good outcome in doing so. Mentioning it felt too much like an open invitation for her to pop in at any time, for no good reason at all except to make things uncomfortable. “It’s called Hi-Note, and it’s got like…a pretty standard assortment of instruments to rent out and such. It closes early.” He wasn’t looking at her. Brow furrowed, he stared at the ice melting in his otherwise empty glass. “Swing by tomorrow night, after eight, and maybe we can jam for like..half an hour or something before I head home.”

He didn’t glance up to see her expression, but her voice was slow to rise to his ears. “..Wait, really?”

No. “Yeah.” What the fuck? “Really.” Unable to unfurrow his brow, he managed to at least turn his gaze towards her. Her eyes were so large on that petite face of hers, and her lips parted slightly, muscles tense with the anticipation of some kind of catch or condition. Or, perhaps she had picked up on his apprehension and was waiting for him to revoke the offer. For some reason, the idea of doing so suddenly felt…unconscionable to him.

In a small voice, she said, “I’d really like that.” The restraint of her response was belied by the way she wiggled in her chair. Beneath the table, her leg wagged restlessly like an excited dog’s tail. “Eight o’clock?”

“Mmhm.” Raf felt some of the tension in his browline relax as a slight smile passed his lips. “Let's see if we can revisit some of those tunes you have. Just–for fun. No recording, nothing serious.”

It seemed that Magritte could never keep a smile off her face for long, and once again, that broad, delighted grin of hers painted her features. “Yeah, yeah! I’d like that a lot!”

“Alright then.” Raf knocked his knuckles twice on the table like a gavel, before standing up.

As he reached to retrieve his violin case off the chair next to him, Magritte pressed her fingertips to her temples. “Hi-Note, eight o’clock.”

Raf favoured her with a lopsided smirk. “Don’t forget.”

“I won’t. I’ll see you there!”

He provided her with an affirmative little wave, but by the time she had realised he was taking his leave, Raf was already halfway to the door.

He heard her call out to him, “Thank you for the–um–everything!”

Looking back to her, Raf returned the sentiment with an appreciative nod before pushing through the cafe doors; exiting onto the busy sidewalk outside.

He wanted to get home before sundown…

To play his violin.

#Hi-Note #I'm not a very good writer I don't paint very well with words haha but this is at least one way to get the scenes outta my head!#rafael #magritte

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burst-of-iridescent · 3 months

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atla live action thoughts: season one review

first things first: anyone who says the Movie That Does Not Exist is better than the live action is straight-up lying. the shymalan film fails on the criteria of even being a decent movie, let alone an adaptation. the netflix series, for all its problems, is at least an enjoyable watch with great effects, music and (mostly) appropriate casting. there's absolutely nothing to compare here - the netflix version clears easily.

now that we've gotten that out of the way, let's delve into the series, starting with the positives.

the good:

visuals and cinematography. they really did a great job of making it feel like a fantasy universe you wanted to be in & i love how vibrant the saturation and colour grading was. it made the world feel so much more dynamic and alive instead of the same flat, boring dullness that so many movies and shows have these days. sometimes i didn't even mind that i was being fed obvious exposition because at least they were giving me something pretty to look at lmao

effects and action. the bending was surprisingly good for the most part, and they did a good job of making the elements feel unique through the stunt choreography and the actors' movements. i'm immensely thankful they didn't try to skimp on budget by merely cutting away from fight scenes or showing us as little as possible. almost all the action sequences were fast-paced and engaging, and i was never bored watching them

acting. the main four were all great, but gordon cormier and dallas liu have to be the standouts for me. gordon brings such an earnest, innocent sweetness to aang that you can't help but like him, and dallas plays all of zuko's facets perfectly: the angst, the explosive anger, the bratty snark, and especially the deep-rooted pain that characterizes so many of zuko's actions in book 1. the range he has, especially when flashing from younger to older zuko, was insane. special shoutout to maria zhang and sebastian amoruso as suki and jet respectively, because they killed it

music. leaves from the vine instrumental had me tearbending and i love how they kept the iconic avatar theme while making it a little darker for this iteration of the story. in general, the soundtrack felt very true to the animation while still being a fresh spin on it

zuko and iroh's relationship and expanding on zuko's crew. i think the fandom universally agrees that lu ten's funeral and zuko's crew being the 41st division were the best changes in the series, so i'm not going to talk about it further other than to say that these scenes show me what the show can be, and that's why i'm not giving up on it

the bad:

characterization. almost all the main characters are missing the little nuances that made them so great in the original, but the greatest casualty is katara. i hate that they took away so much of her rage, and gave many of her traits and struggles to sokka. i don't think this is a problem solely with the writing though, because certain lines do feel like things animated katara would say, but the directing and line delivery don't have the same punch that made her so fierce in the original. this is an easily fixed issue though, so i hope they take the criticism and let my girl be angry and fuck shit up next season

exposition. this was primarily a problem in depicting aang's personality and the relationship between the gaang, because a) why are you TELLING me that aang is mischievous and fun-loving instead of just showing me and b) the gaang do NOT feel like close friends, mostly because they spend so much time apart in every episode that they have little screentime to actually bond and develop intimacy.

lack of focus on the intricacies of bending. for a show whose tagline is "master your element" the characters spend very little time actually... mastering their element. zuko is never shown to struggle with firebending (which is going to have ramifications when it comes to developing his relationship with azula), and neither aang nor katara ever learn waterbending from a master throughout the the entire show. i'm pretty sure aang never willingly waterbends ONCE in the entire eight episodes, discounting the avatar state and koizilla. bending isn't just cool martial arts, it's closely linked to the philosophies and spirituality of each nation, and i wish that had been explored more.

pacing. they really needed to do a better job of conveying that time passed between episodes because an 8-episode season is just going to FEEL shorter than a 20-episode one. the original animation felt as though they'd truly been on a long journey before arriving at the north, but here it feels like the entire show happened in the span of a fortnight or so because each episode seemed to pick up right after the previous. they needed to have more downtime within episodes instead of just rushing from plot beat to plot beat because it made everything feel a lot more rushed. give the characters and story time to breathe.

final rating: 7/10.

overall, i would describe the live action as a better version of the percy jackson movies - not an accurate or perfect adaptation, but a decent story that's very fun to watch. but what really makes me root for this show to get a season 2 is that it has a lot of potential and more importantly, a lot of heart. it's evident that the people who worked on it do genuinely love and respect the original series, and it shows onscreen.

regardless of anything else, this show created opportunities for so many asian and indigenous actors, writers and creators to tell the kinds of stories and play the kinds of roles they don't usually get, and that's something worth supporting. if they take the criticism from this season and improve, i believe they really do have something special on their hands which - although it might not be the original we all know and love - could still be a story to be proud of.

#atla live action

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ladykailitha · 10 months

Text

Royal Pain Part 12

Hello! I managed to get this finished before bed. So tada!

Steve and Eddie aren’t on the same page yet, and Eddie fucks up.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

***

As he drove Robin and Erica back to her apartment, (Robin refused to be in the same room as them because of how absolutely gooey they were around each other) Steve’s anticipation for tonight was ramping up. He had stopped by the store to get all the ingredients for tonight.

He pulled out his best wok and washed the rice, getting it started cooking before he did anything else. He cleaned and chopped the vegetables, getting them in the wok first. Once they were about half way done, he pulled them out and set them to the side.

He then cut up the chicken and started cooking it up. Then he made the sauce in the wok with the chicken pushed to the one side and then he mixed them together. He added the vegetables last, warming them through so that they had a crisp but not hard bite to them. He was tossing the mixture in the sesame seeds when the doorbell rang.

He dashed over to the door and opened it.

Eddie stood on the other side, hands shoved into his pockets and big smile on his face. “Hey-ya, Stevie!”

Steve blushed. “Come on in,” he said, stepping out of the way. “You’re right on time. I just finished making dinner.”

Eddie slipped past Steve and into the apartment. “Smells great. I can’t wait. I’ve been telling the guys about it all weekend. They are insanely jealous by the way.”

Steve smiled. “What? Can none of them cook?” He led Eddie over to the table where he started to plate up the chicken.

Eddie grinned. “Sadly, their talents lie in music and not cooking.” He sat down. “Gethin, Gareth’s twin can bake, but that’s really not the same thing as cooking.”

Steve chuckled. “No. Cooking once you know the basic rules can be tweaked in all sorts of ways. Don’t eat pork, dark meat of fowl like chicken or turkey will work. Or tofu if you’re vegetarian or vegan. Baking though? Gluten intolerant? Fuck you then, because you have to replace more than just the one ingredient you have to find three things to replace it so it acts the same way.”

Eddie nodded. “I call baking alchemy and cooking art.”

Steve smiled. “That sounds about right. Chopsticks or forks?”

“Chopsticks if you have ‘em,” Eddie said.

Steve went to the drawer and pulled out four black chopsticks with a silver band on top. He handed two to Eddie and kept two for himself.

“These are nice,” Eddie said, immediately digging into his food. “Wow. Shit, dude. So good.”

Steve blushed and took a bite of his food. “I’m glad you like it.”

“Where did you learn to cook so good?” Eddie asked around a bit of food.

Steve flushed. “It was either learn how to cook or eat take out every night when my parents were gone.”

Eddie looked up through his lashes. “Yeah, how often were they gone?”

Steve rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I think a better question would be when weren’t they gone?”

Eddie frowned. “What do you mean?”

Steve set down his chopsticks and sighed. “Look, you went to high school with me, you know I was famous for the ragers I threw. Do you know why I could throw those parties?”

Eddie half shrugged. “I never really thought about it. I was never on the guest list.”

Steve snorted. “Like I had any control of the guest list. That was all Tommy and Carol. Seriously. After my second concussion in two years that had me benched in every sport I was in except swimming, I realized they didn’t care about me. They only cared that I had absent parents, a cleaner that came every other day, and a huge house with swimming pool in the back.”

Eddie winced. “Is that why the parties stopped that last part of your senior year?”

Steve nodded. “So yeah, I learned how to cook to prevent myself from getting into bad eating habits and I just kept it up. I enjoy it. Not like tattooing but it’s fun.”

“Sorry,” Eddie murmured. “I sometimes forget that high school was almost a decade ago. You look so much like you did back then that I forget that all that shit is just water under the bridge. But I’m trying.”

Steve smiled softly. “And I appreciate it. I really do. Actually, one of my apprentices actually went to high school with us, too.”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “Yeah, would I know them?”

“Would you know head cheerleader,” Steve said with a smirk, “and then girlfriend of the captain of the basketball team you final senior year?”

Eddie leaned his head forward. “Chrissy? Chrissy Cunningham? Are you shitting me right now?”

Steve shook his head.

“Hell yeah,” Eddie said with a grin. “Of course I remember her. Great girl. Glad she broke it off with that Carver kid though. He was one of those Christians that forgot the main principle the dude taught was to love everyone.”

Steve nodded. “I hear he’s one of those wackos that go around to public streets and harass poor people about religion for YouTube views.”

“Fuck, really?” Eddie hissed. “I guess I can’t say I’m surprised. Lucky dodge for Chrissy then. You thinking of snapping up that girl?”

Steve felt as though a bucket of cold water had been dumped right over his head. He thought that this was a date. He had done it again. Presumed too much.

“No,” he said softly. “Robin has a better chance with her then I do. Apparently she is a lesbian.”

Eddie furrowed his brow a little, wondering about the sudden mood switch.

“Good for her,” is all he said.

The night got awkward and stayed that way until Eddie got up to go home.

“See you tomorrow?” Eddie asked trying to at least salvage some part of the evening.

Steve cocked his head to the side. “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah, you’re starting on the sword tomorrow, right?” Eddie asked, heart in his throat.

Steve confusion clears. “Of course! I can’t wait. I’m really excited to start working on it.” He gives Eddie’s wrist a squeeze. “I thought we made plans that I had forgotten about. No. Of course I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Eddie relaxed a little bit and nodded.

Steve closed the door gently behind him.

Jeff was brushing his teeth to get ready for bed when there was a pounding on his door. He looked over at Mandy and frowned.

“You expecting anyone, babe?” she asked, after spitting into the sink.

Jeff shook his head. He rinsed out his mouth and padded to the door. He opened it to reveal a jumpy Eddie.

Jeff rolled his head from side to side. “You do know Mandy’s got work in the morning, right?”

Eddie nodded. “I fucked up with Stevie and I don’t know what I did but I really need my best friend right now.”

“Come on in,” Mandy said from behind Jeff. “I’ll get you two a beer.”

Eddie sat on their ratty sofa, his knee jiggling with restless energy. Mandy handed them the beers and kissed Jeff’s cheek.

“Don’t stay up too late.”

Jeff watched as she walked back to their bedroom. Once the door was closed he turned to Eddie. “Right start at the top. What do you mean you fucked things up with Steve?”

“I don’t know, man!” Eddie said after downing half of the bottle in one go. “Things were going great, dinner was amazing. It got a little awkward when he said he learned how to cook because his parents were never home and then bam! The bottom opened up and I left earlier then I expected because the air was so thick with tension you could cut it with a knife.”

Jeff closed his eyes and then opened them again. “Tell me everything. Leave nothing out. Knowing you like I do, you probably said something you didn’t think was important, but really, really was.”

Eddie sighed and went through the whole conversation.

Jeff buried his head in his hands and groaned. “Dude, tell me you really didn’t ask Steve if he was going bang one of his apprentices, you know one of the people that work for him?”

Eddie scoffed, waving his hand. “I was joking.”

“Did Steve know that?” Jeff prodded.

Eddie opened his mouth and then closed it. He opened it again, but no sound would come out. He snapped it shut and frowned. “Maybe not?”

Jeff waved his hand at him. “Also seriously, dude. What kind of messed up fucker asks his crush if he wants to bang some chick?”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “Oh shit.”

“Look I don’t know this guy,” Jeff said. “Not well enough anyway. If this was Gareth or Brian, I could tell exactly what he was thinking. But I don’t and you don’t either. Which means you didn’t just fuck up, Eddie. You fucked up bad. So you’re going to have to grovel. And I do mean grovel. Flowers, dinner, the works.”

“Yeah,” Eddie said breathing out a shuddering sigh. “Yeah, man. Fuck. What if I messed things up with for good?”

Jeff shook his head. “I don’t know. I guess endure the most awkward thirty hours of your life?”

“Shit.”

The first thing Eddie did that morning was call the shop.

“Royal Pain, this is Robin, how can I help you today?”

“Birdie,” Eddie greeted. “Is Steve around?”

Robin sighed heavily. “He’s working with Chrissy at the moment, I can take a message?”

Eddie sighed. “No, no. It’s fine. It’s actually you I wanted to speak to anyway.”

“Is this about last night?” she asked.

Eddie blinked away the tears that formed at the thought that Steve had told her about it. “I’m trying to grovel and need a list of his faves so that I make it up to him for being an absolute ass.”

Eddie could feel Robin’s grin through the phone. “Right. Where do you want me to start?”

They talked for a good twenty minutes before she said, “Look, I’ve got another call coming in. That should be enough to start with. Hop to it, doofus. I want to see it, capeesh?”

“I read you loud and clear,” Eddie said.

“Good.”

***

Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Epilogue

@spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @renaissan-vvitch @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @plyerice27 @thedragonsaunt @chaoticlovingdreamer @sapphirecobalt-1 @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @aizawa-emma @redfreckledwolf @thesuninyaface @bookbinderbitch @yikes-a-bee @littlewildflowerkitten @scheodingers-muppet @archermightbegay @hallucinatedjosten @ellietheasexylibrarian @anne-bennett-cosplayer @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @bestwifehaver @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #tattoo artist steve #ladykailtiha writes

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readyforthegarden · 8 months

Text

30 Minutes or Less

A continuation of Adonis and Angel's relationship since their first meetup.

Pairing: Danny Wagner x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, slightly rough sex, roleplay, Danny being an absolute demon in the most delicious way 18+ ONLY MINORS DNI!!!

♥️♥️♥️

Friday nights were usually date nights for you and Danny. Ever since you two met up, your Adonis had swept you off your feet, and your relationship quickly fell into place. It should have felt rushed, too fast and startling, the way your sleepovers turned into duffle bags filled with a weeks worth of clothes, until finally your lease was up and Danny offered for you to live with him. There wasn’t a moment of hesitancy between you two, and that weekend, he was driving you insane in a tank top cut to the hem on the sides, driving a UHaul with all of your belongings to his house, that damn backwards baseball cap keeping his curls from tangling in the wind coming in the open window.

Since then you both tried to establish nights to spend together. He’d gotten a new job at a music studio, playing fill-in instruments for various artists coming through and recording, and trying his hand at producing. You had been in awe of his talents, his home filled with instruments, a drum kit in the basement, a wall of guitars with a mandolin in between, a small piano and keyboard sat on the opposite side of the basement. It amazed you how he could walk up to an instrument and play it without a thought.

Tonight was Friday night date night, and you were perched on the couch in a pair of soft cotton shorts and a cropped tank top, watching trash tv to pass the time.

Your phone rang, and you paused the show you were watching, picking it up and tapping on the answer button, seeing Danny’s face pop up, illuminated by the studio parking lot lights as he sat in his car.

“Hi baby!” you grinned watching him smile as he heard your voice.

“Hi to you too, angel.” his crooked smile still made your heart swoon. “I’m on my way home, I’m sorry I’m running a little later than usual. Date night is gonna be a little lame this week.”

“It’s okay, I waited for you for dinner, do you want to pick something up on your way home?” Danny nodded, stretching out in his seat after he placed his phone on the magnetic holder.

“Yeah, do you have anything in mind?” you pursed your lips, and thought on it.

“Ooh, you know what? Pizza sounds really good right now.”

“From that place on 6th street or the one by our house?”

“You know I’m thinking from the place on 6th. Extra mushrooms, extra cheese.” Danny laughed, nodding again.

“Okay, if you call it in I’ll pick it up for us.” you giggled, noting his backward cap and speaking before thinking.

“Aww, and you look like a delivery guy too, with your hat. My own personal pizza delivery boy.” It took a second for it to register with Danny, and then you saw it, a spark of Adonis that flickered in his eyes from time to time.

“Yeah? Will I get a good tip if I make it home in thirty minutes or less?” his voice was low, and he leaned in closer to the phone. You had gotten more bold since being with Danny, working off him to rile him up when he got like this.

“I don’t know, I don’t have very much money,” you feigned a sad, innocent look, batting your eyelashes. “I’m sure we could work something out.” You angled the phone down, showing him the low cut crop top you’d been hanging around the house in, squeezing your arms to your chest so your breasts nearly spilled out the neckline.

“Shit,” Danny sighed. “Order the pizza, now. I’m on my way.” you giggled as you watched him adjust himself with one hand, hanging up with the other and you called in the pizza order. Once that was placed, you jumped up, running to the bedroom where your vanity waited. You took a small reusable makeup removing pad, wiping under your eyes with it making sure any mascara that had ran through your day was washed away.

After reapplying your mascara and running your tube of lip balm over your lips quickly. Running to the bathroom, you flipped on the light, running a brush through your hair and fluffing it up, before running back to the bedroom, grabbing your favorite perfume and spritzing your neck, wrists, the backs of your knees, and your ankles with it. You checked your phone, only ten more minute before Danny would come screeching into the driveway. You quickly shimmied your shorts down, changing out of your regular panties and started digging through your drawer, trying to find that one lacy pair that drove him wild.

Once you’d found them, you slipped them on and pulled your shorts up over them, before scurrying out to the couch, posing to look like you did absolutely nothing since getting off the phone with him. You unpaused your show, but couldn’t pay attention. You kept your ears focused for the sound of Danny pulling into the drive, the lights of every passing car making your heart thump out of your chest with anticipation. You were able to distract yourself, finally starting to pay attention to the show on the television. For how long, you weren’t sure, but just as an argument started riling up, a knock sounded at the front door, startling you.

You furrowed your brow, opening the door to see Danny standing there, pizza box balanced on his open palm. He was still wearing the backward ball cap, and his crooked smile still made your heart flip.

“Hey, I have a delivery for this address?” Danny smirked. Catching on quick, you leaned against the doorframe.

“Oh yeah, I ordered that, about twenty minutes ago.” you replied.

“Awesome, that’ll be $18.75.” Danny replied, holding his other hand out. Biting your bottom lip, you batted your lashes at him as he looked at you expectantly.

“Oh gosh, I’m so sorry,” you pretended to pat yourself down, giving a little shrug. “I don’t have any cash on me.”

“Oh,” Danny let his hand fall, his eyes raking up and down your body.

“You drove all this way, and I’m really hungry…” you began. “Why don’t you come inside, and we can work something out.” Danny’s eyes flickered again and you opened the door, letting him inside. Once the door was closed, you led him into the kitchen, gesturing for him to place the pizza on the counter.

“So, what did you have in mind for payment?” Danny asked, looking around the room. You moved to stand in front of him, placing your hand on his chest, feeling him flex the muscles of his pecs under his shirt. You glanced up at him through your lashes, smirking.

“I was wondering if we could exchange favors?” your voice lowered slightly, a sultry tone exuding as you felt his breath quicken under your hand. “You give me the pizza for free, and I give you the best blowjob you’ve ever had.” Danny’s eyebrow quirked, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

“I don’t know, my boss will be pretty pissed if I don’t bring back the cash.” you let your hand travel down his torso, your fingertips resting at the top of his belt buckle, tapping the metal with the tip of your fingernails. You kept eye contact with him as you moved past it, cupping his growing erection through the denim of his jeans.

“Feels like you’d rather stay,” you hummed, leaning in and bumping the tip of his nose with yours, bringing your lips close enough to just graze his, teasing Danny with a kiss you knew he was dying to have after not seeing you all day. Palming him a little rougher, you spoke again as you felt his bulge grow harder in your hand. “I promise the tip will be worth it.”

“O-Okay,” not being sure if it was your Adonis staying in character or that you had really startled him, you smiled, slowly undoing his belt buckle as you finally gave into him and gave him the kiss he was longing for. One of his hands came up behind your head, holding your lips in place as he took his fill of them, waiting until you were at the point of tugging down his jeans and boxer briefs.

When he let you go, you slowly sank to your knees on the kitchen floor, gently taking his long cock in your hand. Leaning forward, you flattened your tongue, giving the underside a long, soft lick before teasing the head with the tip of your tongue, circling around the edge. Giving small kitten licks just under the head, you heard Danny breathe out slowly. You were lucky in the fact that Danny seemed to be a giver in the bedroom, and you knew it was taking a lot for him to let you switch roles.

Torturously working your mouth over him, you tried to take all of him, tears stinging your eyes as you held back a small gagging reflex as he hit the back of your throat. One of Danny’s large hands rested softly on the top of your head, fingers twitching in your hair as you hollowed out your cheeks, the other held his shirt flat against his stomach, making sure the soft cotton didn’t obstruct his view of you. Swallowing around him, you heard him suck in a sharp breath, letting out a quiet moan, his fingers on your head starting to massage your scalp while his hand helped push you forward while you bobbed.

“Shit, that feels good,” he sighed. You felt yourself swell with pride at his praise, letting your tongue trace the vein running along the underside of his cock, flicking the tip just under the head before continuing your motions. Danny’s hand left his stomach, reaching out and grabbing the edge of the kitchen counter next to him, leaning on it to stay upright as his breathing picked up. You used one of your hands to stroke what your mouth couldn’t fully take between deep throated swallows, the other came up to cup his balls, massaging them and feeling them begin to tighten in your palm. You took him in your mouth one more time, down to the base, the tip of your nose being tickled by the curly, coarse hairs on his pelvis.

Danny’s hand left the counter, coming to join the other on your head, holding you in that position for a few seconds before he gently thrust his hips before pulling your head off of him. You looked up at him, mouth open and unashamedly letting a string of spit dangle between your bottom lip and the tip of his cock. Leaning forward, you pressed your wet lips to the tip, giving it a kiss before licking the beading pre-cum from it and licking it off your lips.

His hands fell from your head, one coming under your chin and tugging you up from your knees, so you were standing in front of him. He brought your lips to his, licking across them before finally pressing against yours, his other hand tugging down your cotton shorts and feeling the lace you’d hidden beneath them.

“I have a feeling you were planning this all along.” Danny smirked against your mouth, his thick fingers rubbing against your soaked through panties, making you him. His thumb still rested on your chin, swiping against your bottom lip. “You’re so wet, it would be a shame for me to leave you like this.”

“Please,” you whispered, leaning into his body. Danny smirked down at you before backing up, giving you space and making you feel cold.

“Get on the counter.” Danny commanded, Adonis appearing in his eyes again, needing control. You hesitated for a moment, but jumped up onto the cold granite a shiver running down your spine as your warm skin made contact. Danny sauntered his way over to you, caging you in-between his arms as he sealed your lips with a kiss. “How about I taste that pretty pussy of yours before I really get my money’s worth?”

Your knees rested against Danny’s sides as you nodded and he pushed up your cropped tank top above your breasts, immediately cupping them, swiping his thumbs across your already pebbled nipples. His callused fingertips always applied just the right pressure to make you crave more and more from him, and you were on the verge of begging when he leaned down, taking your left nipple into his mouth. Your head leaned back, knocking into the cabinet and making the dishes inside shake. You let out a soft laugh, and you could feel Danny break against your skin, a chuckle vibrating against you.

He sucked softly on your swollen bud, twirling his tongue around it while his other hand rolled your right one before his thumb and forefinger, pinching softly. Your back arched while tingling shot down between your legs, and you felt yourself getting wetter. Your hips wriggled against the counter as Danny switched his mouths attention to your right breast. The heat between your thighs felt like it was getting hotter and hotter, and you could feel your pussy start to pulse.

Danny let his hands take your waist, holding you steady as his lips moved to the valley between your breasts, slowly kissing down your body. Smirking at how eager you were, already shifting to try and bring your body closer to his face. Danny removed his hands from your waist for a moment, lowering himself and wrapping his arms around your legs, grabbing your hips and balancing you precariously on the edge of the counter.

“Baby, you are positively glistening for me.” he breathed, looking up at you through his lashes. “Makes me think you’ve had this fantasy before.” he pressed soft kisses along your inner thighs, nipping gently at the skin as he got closer.

“Stop teasing, please,” you whined, gripping the edge of the counter as he licked his lips, adjusting your legs over his shoulders.

“As you wish,” Danny delved between your thighs, a moan spilling from you as his mouth expertly lapped against your wet pussy. One of your hands moved to rest on top of his head, the backward baseball cap still there. You raked your nails against the material, the scratch sound music to your ears as the sounds of Danny’s mouth on you echoed in the kitchen. He clasped his lips around your clit, suckling it while running his tongue around it in quick circles.

His name fell from your lips, you didn’t care about the role-play anymore, you just wanted to praise the man for his talents in making you unravel. Danny moved between your sucking and circling your clit and leaving hot, open mouthed kisses against you. One of his hands left your thighs, his thick fingertips tracing along your folds, gently prodding and teasing you as you started clenching around nothing. After letting you whine and rock your hips, grinning into your pussy all the while, he slid in his middle and ring fingers inside you, finally relieving the ache between your thighs.

Danny moved his other hand to your pelvis, holding your body down as you rocked against his hand and face.

“You’re gonna slip off if you keep shimmying like that,” Danny gasped, pulling away from your pussy, looking up at you. From the tip of his nose to the end of his chin, his face was glistening with your juices, a sight that made you feel even more ravenous than before. “Stay still for me.” you nodded, guiding his head back to your clit, moaning again as he took it back in his mouth. He picked up the pace with his tongue, circling your clit and applying just the right pressure as he quickened the pistoning motion with his hand. It was becoming more and more difficult to keep your promise to stay still, and Danny could tell by the shaking in your thighs on his shoulders that you were getting close. You felt the fire in your stomach ignite and spread through your veins as your fingers clawed at the granite below you and the fabric of his hat.

“Fuck!” you gasped, your body tensing as you came, Danny continuing to work you over as you rode out your orgasm, panting and still clawing at him. When your body relaxed, Danny pulled away bringing his hand up to his lips, sucking them clean while staring you down and stepping out of his pants and boxer briefs.

You were slumped against the cabinets, but not for too long, as Danny had slid his arms under you and moved you to the living room. You couldn’t help but lean up and kiss him as he walked carefully, tasting yourself on him and moaning.

“You tasted so good baby,” Danny hummed as he placed your feet on the floor by the arm of the couch. He cupped your face in his large hand, the other holding you up. “Felt so good on my fingers, squeezing so tight.” Danny turned you around, bending you over the arm of the couch. Your face rested on a small couch pillow, and you could feel Danny’s hands rubbing up and down the globes of your ass.

Not being able to help yourself, you wiggled your ass in front of him, making him chuckle.

“Eager, are we?”

“Yes, I need to feel you,” you whined, near-panting already. “Please, fuck me already!” Danny gripped your ass cheeks hard and slapped on, sending a jolt through you as you felt him like himself up behind you, running the tip of his hard cock through your folds, collecting the wetness there. Whimpers were falling from your open mouth as he teased the head in before pulling away, coming back and pushing in again and then pulling completely away. “Dammit Danny!”

As soon as the curse in his name flew out of your mouth, he roughly slid into you, jolting you again and making you cry out. Danny wasted no time in building you up, his thrusts hard and fast, the slapping of your skin echoing throughout the house, almost being drowned out by your moans. You were reaching back behind you, clawing to touch some part of him when one of his large hands gathered both your wrists, tugging your upper body up. The new angle hit your sweet spot, a new fresh string of curses tumbling from your mouth as Danny continued ramming into you, primal grunts spilling from his own.

“Fuck that feels so good Danny,” you gasped, the words stuttering out as your body was jostled by his movements. You couldn’t help but relish the delicious drag of his cock inside you as he pulled out and pushed back in over and over, it was something you’d never forget.

“Yeah baby?” Danny grunted out. “Gonna come all over my cock? Make this delivery worth it?” Leave it to him to still keep up at least a glimmer of the roleplay you had long forgotten.

“Yeah,” you panted, “M-make it so-so worth it!” You could feel the coil in your abdomen tightening again, you face flushing as you came to the edge. Your fingers curled, latching onto whatever they could of Danny’s hand, something to anchor yourself as your second climax crashed over you. Danny let go of your wrists but was quick to wrap his arms around your chest and torso, hands squeezing your tits as he put his lips to your ear.

“There’s my beautiful Angel,” he whispered lowly, between harsh breaths. “That’s my good girl.”

“Your good girl,” you agreed, bringing a hand up and tangling in his curls, finally knocking the hat off his head. “Taking your cock so well,” Danny’s hips began to falter as you talked back, and he squeezed you tight to his body as he spilled into you, pressing kisses along your cheek, neck, and shoulder. You let your head fall back, resting on his own broad shoulder, both of you catching your breath.

“S’pose we should go shower.” Danny whispered after a few moments. Your bodies were tacky from drying sweat and made a noise as he gently peeled away from you.

“Yeah, the pizza is already cold anyway.” you laughed softly. Danny turned you around, grinning at you as he cupped your face, his one arm still holding you up.

“Would you mind if the delivery boy stayed and grabbed a slice? I worked up quite the appetite.”

“Not at all,” you smirked, hopping up on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips. “Consider it your tip.”

♥️♥️♥️

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