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#i mean ghost is not a bad band by all means. but they are so silly. i for one cannot take them seriously. never could

statementlou · 3 days

Note

hi it's just me being nosy and asking a follow up to your vinyl anon--what are some of your non-1DCU favorites? collection tour please 😇

hiiii gosh and look you even put the link on for me to make it easy! The question itself is NOT EASY though I was like BUT WHAT IF I FORGET ONE?? Like what CATEGORY of favorite?! But the timing couldn't be better, I am currently as previously mentioned in the process of moving all of my stuff around, a huge project that 1) is perfect for listening to records while I do things like move books from one shelf to another and 2) means I just today moved my record player to a far better place where I am actually using it again for the first time in ages (for one thing onto an actual properly non wobbly surface) so I listened to records today and picked a few that will do sorry to all the others I forgot and love even more I'm sure

I picked first up Daydream Nation by Sonic Youth not just because it's so good (IT IS THOUGH) but also because it's an album that having it on vinyl feels SO right and it makes me happy just to handle; the pretty Gerhard Richter painting cover, a little crackle and pop with the music, the aesthetic of it all! I mean Sonic Youth probably literally birthed the indie hipster luddite aesthetic, it seems Right™ Second is The Bonny by Gerry Cinnamon, because being able to listen to the songs The Bonny and Ghost specifically on vinyl feeds my soul in deep and important ways. Also the 4th side is blank and etched with lyrics, like the JHO single, very cool. And last the record/album I've almost certainly played the most times in my life, even though the copy I have has skips now (to be loved is to changed and all that yk) and I haven't to date been able to bring myself to buy a reissue or pay $$$ for another original: 24 Hour Revenge Therapy by Jawbreaker. It's just important in like 15 different ways okay? Tip, if anyone is like huh! I will go listen to this album I've never heard it (DO!! also then tweet it at Louis a lot, he would REALLY LIKE IT) I think the best way to do this is to skip the first song the first time, it's a whole different vibe than the rest. Also right now my fave is LTLIVE on vinyl 😭 playing records makes me want to put it on SO BAD :((( also bonus content, one of my favorite things about records for some reason is seeing who goes next to who idk I just find it fun and if I were naming a band it would totally be a big consideration... so for extra tour of the shelf, Gerry Cinnamon is between the Germs and The Gits (listen the Cs are crowded, it's my shelf I can do what I want), Sonic Youth was between The Snuts and Social Distortion- which the astute may notice is not correct, she will be going back other side of Social D- and Jawbreaker nestle cozily between Japandroids and Jerk With A Bomb. Louis, for the record, lives between very twee girl band Tiger Trap and very fast hardcore band Tragatello, lol. A weird bill, that, but they do have one thing in common- all feature queer musicians

#gosh all three of these are so MELLOW🤔#I think even though I also like a lot of very not chill music there's something about the vibe+vinyl for me #I am listenign to the tragatello record now though which is anything but and that's also a great time so hey okay #this is outrageously self indulgent forgive me innocent dash denizens who just want to talk about louis in peace #it's cam's fault for being an enabler!

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grimrester · 10 days

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i am really so sorry to continue harping on about the watcher entertainment streaming service. but this kind of stuff (internet content as a business & marketing it as such) is truly my obsession, and i think i will implode if i don't talk about some of the takes i'm seeing.

i'd like to emphasize again i don't have strong feelings about watcher either way. i like ghost files, i watch mystery files sometimes, i watched worth it back in the buzzfeed days. i don't watch any of their shows religiously.

anyway, here's the main things i keep seeing crop up and my thoughts on each:

"watcher has 25 employees they have to pay, and employing people in this economy is good, so we should be banding together to pay them."

employing people is good if you currently have the capacity to pay them. i checked watcher's linkedin page, and many of their employees were hired within the last year or two. if they hired people they cannot pay with the business model they had before, something is seriously wrong with their internal bookkeeping/decision making. it means they either didn't know they couldn't pay these people long term, or they did know and were content with risking newly hired employees' livelihoods on a huge content pivot in the next year.

of note is that none of their employees' titles have anything to do with managing the finances of the company. they are the size of a small business but have no one aside from the figureheads of the company in charge of their finances.

this is the kind of company decision making that leads to downsizing and layoffs, which can be devastating. but you know what's worse than laying off a portion of your staff? laying off everyone because your business is going under.

"not everyone can afford the subscription, but those who can should pay it to support the watcher team."

no. $6/month for a couple hours of content (depending on what shows you actively watch and the natural fluctuation of their release schedule) is a fundamentally bad value. i can pay that much for a few movies on amazon. i can pay that much for dropout, if i want to support a smaller business instead.

and to be totally frank, even if people do sign up, i don't think they'd get enough to compete with the amount they get through patreon/sponsorships. and the fact that they didn't know how many of their subscribers would realistically sign up is a bad sign.

a pretty good conversion rate of free to paid subscribers of a service or content is 3% (usually accomplished through a free trial). given the very poor reception of the announcement, let's say about 1% of their 3 mil youtube subs pay for their service. that's 30k people paying for their new platform. that's $180k a month in their pocket.

(they currently only have 12k subs on patreon so we are being generous here.)

a sponsorship deal (based on my googling, i have less direct experience with this) is anywhere from $10-50 per 1000 views. they've gotten about 1 mil views on their last few videos. 3 mil subs is nothing to shake a stick at, but let's say they're on the lower end of the payscale at $25 per 1000 views. that's $25k a video, $100k a month if they release 1 video a week. their lowest patreon tier is 5 bucks, so even if all their subs are at that tier, that's another $60k, so $160k total. it's entirely likely they're bringing in much more than that when you factor in merch, adsence, etc.

did anyone on their team crunch numbers on how many people would need to sub to make the switch worth it? did anyone do market research on how many people they could convert to paid users? because if not, if they really didn't have a game plan for this, the subscription service was always doomed to fail.

"this was their only option to continue making the content they want to make, with the production value they want."

i watched their announcement video. a key point in that video is that they have done sponsored videos and that's what used to pay for their content, but they did not like the amount of creative control the sponsor had over the content.

look, i get that's no fun. we'd all love creatives to be able to make whatever they want. but when you are a small business with a team of employees relying on you, you have to think about making money, sometimes at the cost of creative liberties.

and they had so many other options to make money for the projects they want to make without jumping to a subscription platform.

they could have started actually promoting their patreon, and maybe done some restructuring of the tiers. why not a highly produced, special series just for patreon members? or a special high-budget episode of each series, while the main series is lower budget?

bite the bullet and continue taking sponsorship deals on some less-produced shows, while axing sponsorships from the ones the crew feels more passionate about.

schedule larger, blowout-production shows only when they can be afforded. this is what Notorious Amongus Guy streamer jerma does. he saves up for big productions like his baseball or dollhouse streams, so he can really get creative with them.

they had other options and they've tried very little, especially when you compare them to other content house business at similar scales. try guys and good mythical morning both put out significant content with significant staff, and have had to diversify their income streams with auxiliary products, shows with widely varied levels of production, etc. but it seems to be working for them. watcher has merch and that's about it, and seems to only want to increase the production quality of ALL their shows.

really, all this just boils down to a terrible business decision. it's hard to say if the watcher team is working with a consultant or anyone outside of their team, but they certainly don't have anyone internally who is experienced with running a business like this. to me, it seems very much like they got in a room together and did some extremely optimistic income ballparking with no research behind it.

and that might have been fine for three dudes running a channel alone, but if they're a business, they have to start making decisions like one.

#i encourage discussion on this in my notes btw!#you can even be mean to me if you disagree. i dont actually care #watcher

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ihavemanychickens · 1 year

Text

Shaving Headcanons with TF 141

Price

- have you seen this man’s beard

- He would INSIST that he shaves your legs for you and he would go ALL OUT

- I’m talking exfoliation, fancy shaving cream, only the best razors you can find, and he’d lotion you up AND use oil too!

- He’d get every nook and cranny, and yes, even the toes too

- He just likes the whole experience and enjoys the non sexual intimacy

Soap

- He shaved your legs after you guys were playing truth, or dare, and you dared him

- He didn’t do too bad a job though

- He got a new razor, exfoliated your legs with a warm washcloth, he even wanted to try some experimentation to see which shaving cream worked best- his or yours

- However

- Yall would be having too much fun and laughing and he accidentally nicked you on the top of your foot

- You know the spot

- But it’s fine, 1 hello kitty Band-Aid, and several apologies from soap, and you’re all better

Gaz

- I just know this man cleans up nicely I just KNOW

- When buying razors, shavings cream, lotion, literally ANYTHING, he always looks at the reviews AND price compares

- He offers to shave your legs after you say out loud to no one in particular- “I want a shower but I’m so tired”

- Cue Gaz to the rescue

- He doesn’t do anything fancy, you’re tired and he doesn’t mind going to sleep early

- The SPEED at which he shaves your legs tho?

- Incredible.

- Your legs got a close shave, are moisturized, and you’re in bed in no time at all

- WITH NO NICKS

- He has no objections to shaving your legs for you on occasion after you praise him for how well he did

Ghost

- You were shaving in the shower when you slipped and fell hurting your elbow (luckily you didn’t cut yourself)

- After a quick trip to the hospital where you are diagnosed with a small fracture and are given a half split and a sling, you’re back home where you ask him: “I didn’t finish shaving my legs; could you help out?”

- Ghost: *sigh* sure, why not?

- He’s very gentle and takes his time, definitely scared of nicking you

- Takes a while but eventually your legs are soft and smooth

- Totally didn’t kiss your legs as he rubbed lotion on them

- He jokes that he should shave your legs for you from now on if it means you won’t get hurt

- Also buys you a shower chair to sit on while you shave; it quickly becomes a worthwhile purchase.

#cod mwii #simon riley x reader #i posted something #john mactavish x reader #john price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley #ghost x reader #🐔#the chicken bawks

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yanderenightmare · 7 months

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Deku - Midoriya Izuku

TW: NSFW, dubcon, f!reader, asshole Hero Deku

Just thinking about Deku’s fangirl.

How lucky you felt when he took you home after you’d asked for his autograph in a bar – thinking about the expectations you had, how many times you’d imagined Hero Deku singing sweet praises in your ear as he made sweet love to you oh-so-softly – and thinking about how hard you choked on your spit when you understood just how far away those fantasies were from the truth as he fucks you like you’re shooting a hardcore porn-video.

His hand presses down hard on your face, mushing your head halfway into the white hotel pillow while his other hand fists the band of your skirt to keep you up in a pretty slope as he pounds your puffy cunt only in harsh slaps – hips clapping your ass as he uses your skirt to pull you back to meet the sharp thrusts as though you’re but a means to an end to make him cum.

Oh, but you’d been Deku’s number-one fan for years, and you’d been so giddy and excited as he’d paid for the hotel in the reception, feeling so lucky and honored, unable to fathom how any of it was even happening. Biting your lip with shy eyes blinking sheepishly, thinking of how sweet and gentle he would be in bed – so, so, so surprised when he had you pushed flat against the elevator wall with two of his fingers hooked on your tongue to make you yelp out a moan while his other hand found your cunt and squeezed the mound as though staking a claim.

You don’t really enjoy it when it’s rough – it scares you, to say the least – but this is the number-one hero, and you’re not so confident to protest when you feel you should be grateful that he’s at all touching you – even though it feels like he’s running your stomach through.

Looking over your shoulder, you can spot tattoos you’ve never seen on screen, the tribal kind that you’d expect to see only on gang members and otherwise other types of bad guys you’d not want touching you at all. He’s also wearing chains, the slim silver kind douchebags wear and compare. He’s even got fat rings on his fingers, digging into your skin where he pressures down on your face with his thumb hooked in your cheek to keep you singing mewls for him while he swings into you from behind harder and harder each time – grinning when watching how you grip the sheets in whitened knuckles as your whole body jumps on every impact.

He tips you over after a while, but missionary had never felt so threatening as he immediately locks your throat in a fist – his lips ghosting your parted ones with grunts and hot air, green eyes salaciously enjoying the show of you gasping for breath as he fucks the moans right out of you in harsh and deep strokes hitting you in new and tender places – forcing your toes to curl in the air, thighs hiked on his hips.

His other hand holds the top of your head, blunt nails push smilies into your scalp – and it all just smothers you enough to make you cry as his lips and teeth graze your cheek with a leer. “I like my sluts like this- submissive. Taking it like happy little whores in love with getting dick in their wet cunt.”

It’s not the type of sweet talk you wanted, but still, his low and gravely grunting voice forms a fist in your belly and makes you tighten on the fat shaft that has you speared. He groans at the tightness, biting your cheek as his hips stutter, shooting his load inside you without warning.

You’re in shock. Feeling the sweat between your bodies and the warmth of it inside you. You can only stare blankly up at the hotel ceiling fan and halfway wonder why you’d not thought better of it when he’d booked you into such a cheap and sleazy place.

You hear the popping of the Sharpie, but it doesn’t register. Nor does how he pushes the felt tip of it down in the softness of your tit. He scribbles something – cap held between his lips and teeth as he asks, “Wha’ was’h your name again?”

You mumble it dumbly without asking yourself why as he writes the letters on your skin. You don’t flinch when he pulls his phone from the nightstand and takes a picture with the flash on.

He doesn’t stay for long.

Actually, he doesn't stay at all. He doesn’t even shower before pulling his pants on and leaving with his shirt draped over his shoulder.

You look in the mirror after willing yourself to get up.

Your chest reads Deku, number 47, then your name.

tip-jar: Kofi

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bigbadvoxbox · 2 months

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Hi, I would like to ask for a smut from Adam x fem Reader, he takes Lucifer's wife so he can get back at Lucifer I love your posts

THANKS ANON

warnings: previous lucifer x reader. unprotected sex (don't do this). degradation if you squint? like a brief mix of both degradation and praise.

- Lucifer's pretty ex-wife, almost looking more like an angel than a demon, which was one thing that Adam found pretty appealing. The attractive appearance, with the subtle demonic features? Badass. He was into it.

- Puts his plan into action. He knows usually he can get any girl he wants, he's fucking Adam, but you're gonna be special. You were Lucifer's bitch (affectionately), so he wants to make this BIG.

- He plays it real cool. Lucifer almost hands you over himself, sending you to a meeting Adam had requested instead of showing up himself. This was the second time Lucifer had bailed like this now, what a little bitch. He can't help but feel lucky that even after splitting, you were still on okay enough terms for Lucifer to ask you such a favour.

- You have a little chat, and he plays a few harmless little jokes on you. It's been a while since you've laughed this way, and you confide in Adam that Lucifer wasn't the most social. You missed him. He stayed locked away in his room, and you got a small "hi, sweetheart" now and again, but it just wasn't the same. Not compared to how he used to hold you in his arms, sing songs to you, like a fairytale type of love. You missed that. Which was why you left him.

- Adam couldn't help but scoff at this, he should've expected as much from Lucifer.

- "Y'know, he missed out on some good shit. You're a fuckin' hottie. I don't know what he was doing ignoring a babe like you." He says. It's meant to be... comforting? Maybe? In his own way. You're a little confused, but also a little flattered?

- You two start to gossip like friends would, and you become more comfortable with the man sitting a few seats away from you, completely forgetting about the business portion of this meeting (a.k.a. the bullshit Adam made up to even get the meeting in the first place).

- He brags about himself a bit, and you can't help but find it the littlest bit charming, in a funny way. He talks about his band, how he "fuckin' shreds like a badass" on the guitar, and how the fangirls go crazy for him.

- "I'm not too interested in them though. I have my eye on someone else. I mean- yeah, they're cute 'n all, but nothing compared to this one chick I've been thinkin' about lately. She's somethin' real special." he explains.

- "A cute little lady whose shitty ex-husband left her feelin' so lonely... and unsatisfied too, I bet."

- That's when you catch on, taking notice of the subtle flirtatious smirk that plays on his lips. You feel your cheeks burn the slightest bit, and you turn your head away, a bit speechless.

- Adam knows he has you now.

- A few sweet words later, and steps closer that you didn't even really seem to notice him taking, too busy focusing on his (slightly vulgar) flattery, you now feel each other's breath against your faces. The moment is tense, and his lips, now exposed after he removed his mask, ghosting over yours.

- The mask was quite the reveal. But you had to admit, he was not at all bad looking. He wasn't exceptional, but he didn't need to be. You liked him just the way he was. In this small meeting he had shown you more kindness and attention than your husband had in a while.

- One thing led to the next. A flirtatious glance, a gentle brush against each other's hand, and next thing you know, you're laying on your back on the meeting table, Adam between your legs, his lips on your neck.

- He can't help but leave you absolutely covered in hickeys. It's nice to be possessive over something. Someone who's his now. He finally turned the tables on Lucifer, and that thought can't help but bring a smug grin to his face.

- When he was joking around earlier, calling himself the "dick master" you thought he was kidding.

He was not.

- He fucking pounds you into the table, one hand on your waist, the other on your tits, feelin' you up and teasin' you to get you all flustered. He wonders how long it's been since you felt this good, but don't worry, he'll make you forget all about that.

- He can't deny that you feel (ironically enough) fucking heavenly. It's like he can't get enough of it. Not only is the sex itself amazing, he just can't get enough of the victorious feeling of getting back at Lucifer.

- Trust me when I say he has you SCREAMING. He's so fucking glad he didn't use the hologram, instead taking the risk of going down to Hell himself, just for the opportunity to feel that cunt on his cock.

- "That's a good fuckin' bitch."

- He honestly can't even quite help the filth that just comes out of his mouth so naturally, his language vulgar but.. kinda hot?

- He can't help but cum inside you and fill you up, groaning a drawn out "Fuck yes." as he hovers over you on the table.

- He's pretty happy with his new badass demon bitch by his side, and his visits to Hell on "business" become a lot more frequent. The business in question is just him fucking you in every possible position, leaving you covered in hickeys, kisses, and bite marks. You're all his now. Suck it, Lucifer.

THATS IT

it's almost 4 am so this is not at all proofread

so if it's shit

i'm sorry

edit: the cheating part made me feel bad so i switched it up

#hazbin hotel #voxbox #hazbin hotel smut #hazbin hotel adam #adam smut #hazbin hotel adam smut #adam x reader

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bloatedandalone04 · 6 months

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Illicit Affairs

➪the one where leon is yours entirely, even though he is married to someone else.

Warnings: cheating, affairs, swearing, unprotected sex, fluffy sex, mentions of cheating, angst, smut, toxic relationships, small amount of ada slander since that is actually a warning i found out, mentions of divorce and all that fun stuff

Word Count: 3.3k

Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Left the door unlocked, just in case. I hope you had a good day.

That was the text Leon is met with as he enters the house he shared with his wife. His thumbs ghosted over the screen, his mind trying to come up with a good enough answer that wouldn’t leave you feeling cheap. There was nothing he could say through text, he decided, and he ended up pocketing his phone and heading towards his bedroom.

Ada was sitting against the headboard, picking at her freshly painted red nails with a dangerous glint in her eyes. Her engagement and wedding rings reflected off the bedside table lamp, and Leon wished he cared enough to remember where he had placed his own wedding band after taking it off many weeks ago, but it held no meaning to him. “Late again, Leon,” she muttered, glaring at him as he entered the room. “What was it this time?”

Leon huffed as he walked towards the dresser. “Work,” he answered and he was being completely truthful, not that she’d ever believe him - which is quite hypocritical, if he had to be honest. He was well aware of the many times she came home late, and the many more times she never came home at all. She was just as bad as him, maybe even worse. “Like last time.”

Ada scoffed, tossing the sheets over her body and crossing her arms. “Liar,”

She was trying to get under his skin, something she has always been able to do, even back when he was twenty one years old. Now at the age of twenty eight, he had no idea why he still continues to put himself through this.

He was so sure that what he felt for the woman was love, but after four years with her, he quickly found out that it was lust. He met her when he was just starting out and had no idea what love even was, but he knew that it wasn’t what he felt for her.

At first he was infatuated with her. It was a cat and mouse game that left him feeling like he could never truly and fully have her, and that was still true to this day.

He married her, and yet she still wasn’t his.

The guys she met at the bar. The men she ran into on missions. The rookies who had information she wanted, but didn’t need. She was all of theirs, as well as Leon’s, but never in full.

Leon kept his back to her as he rolled his eyes and rummaged around in his drawer. “Whatever, Ada,” he muttered, grabbing his grey sweats before opening another drawer.

“Don’t whatever me, Leon,” she seethed. “Don’t act like you haven’t been sneaking around on me. We both know you have. Some poor, naive girl who thinks you’re actually into her but probably doesn’t even know you’re married to me.”

Leon hated the way she was talking about you, and she was once again getting under his skin. He slams the drawer shut loudly after grabbing a black tee, turning towards his wife with a fire in his eyes. “You’re one to talk,” he growls. “You’ve been sleeping around since before we even got married. You haven’t changed, and I was dumb enough to believe you would.”

Ada’s eyes widened a bit but she tried to hide it by sitting up a little straighter.

He caught her, though. And they both knew it. “Yeah,” he laughs, the sound lacking any humor. “Haven’t been as discreet about it as you thought, huh?”

Leon turns to leave the room, but she wasn’t done playing with him, clearly. “Oh, come on, Leon,” she called out, dropping her attitude and making her voice sound sultry. “We both know how good we are together. Just come to bed with me. We can forget all about this.”

She pushes the sheets off her body and crawls over to him, kneeling on the bed and running her hand up his arm. “Ada-”

“Shh,” she purrs, reaching her hands up and capturing his lips in a messy kiss. He doesn’t move at all, even though he wants to pull away, he also wants to prove a point. The fact that this was the first kiss they’ve shared in months should be a clear enough sign that this was completely over. She smirks when she pulls away, licking at her slightly wet lips. “See? You feel that?”

Leon didn’t know what he was supposed to be feeling, but he knew that she was trying to coax him into bed with her so he can fuck her and then pretend like their relationship was a normal and healthy one.

When her hand wanders down his body and is about to touch him through his jeans, his own shoots out and his fingers wrap around her wrist, successfully halting her advances. “I don’t feel a thing,” he says, his voice so serious it had her eyes narrowing as she ripped her hand away from him.

She sat back in disgust, crossing her arms again. “You can’t leave, Leon,” she states, unaware of just how far gone he is from her control over him. He’s detached from her completely and felt nothing for her but resentment. And maybe a little anger at the years he’s wasted chasing after her when she didn’t want him at all.

“I want a divorce, Ada,” he says, voice monotone as he turns away and leaves the room.

She yells harsh words after him but makes no move to stop him, further proving the point that she didn’t care. And neither did he.

Leon hates how much time he’s wasted with her when he could’ve been with you. You could’ve been his, officially, had he not been so afraid to let go of something he’s spent so much of his adulthood holding onto.

He grabs his keys from off the counter, where he had tossed them not even ten minutes ago when he arrived home, and leaves the house, his mind on you as he hastily types out a reply to you and starts his car.

I’m sorry.

You read the text over and over again as you lie on your side in bed.

What was he apologizing for? For stringing you along? For promising he’s going to leave his wife but never does? For not showing up tonight?

The night was still young, so he might still show up, but the fact still stands.

You felt terrible.

Leon’s marriage was an unhappy one, and you knew he found happiness with you, but he hadn’t made it official yet, nor had he broken things off with Ada yet. Was it all a lie? Does he only come to you for an easy lay? For a sense of normalcy?

You weren’t sure you wanted the answer.

Falling in love with him was slowly breaking your heart, but you really didn’t have a choice. Leon was every girl’s dream and only became unfaithful when he grew sick of the lonely nights where his wife went off and fucked half the town.

From what you know, you’re the only person he’s seeing, and that was enough for you to keep on inviting him to come over and escape from that environment.

How Ada could ever take him for granted was beyond you.

You shut off your phone and set it on the nightstand beside you after reading the time. It was nearing twelve in the morning and you were beginning to feel a bit like an idiot after sending that text to him.

It was an invitation to stay at your house, and you even threw in a dumb line about his day, all because you knew Ada didn’t care enough to ask him that herself.

As you begin to get more comfortable in bed, the sound of the front door opening then locking pierces your ears. Your mood lifts considerably at the fact that he had shown up after all, but you also knew you would be met with the same old line of ‘I’m going to break up with her, I promise’.

You really weren’t sure how much more your heart could take.

Quiet footsteps neared your bedroom, where the door slowly creaked open. “Y/n?” His soft voice called out and you just shifted to let him know that you were still awake. Leon kicks off his boots and drops his sweats and tee onto the top of your dresser before pulling the covers back and moving to lay behind you. “Sweetheart.”

“Hi,” you greet quietly, keeping your back to him.

“Hi,” he says back, wrapping his arms around you. “I missed you.”

You stiffen slightly. “Did you?” You ask harshly, instantly regretting it when he doesn’t respond. You turn your head and look back at him, seeing guilt swim in his blue eyes, even in the dark room. Sighing, you turn back around. “I missed you, too.”

Leon could hear the tiredness in your voice, and he knew it wasn’t because of how late it was. He knew it was because of his broken promises of leaving his wife, but never sticking to them. Until now. “Baby,” he called softly, leaning in and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, smiling at the way you lean into his touch. “I asked for a divorce.”

That had your eyes widening and you tried to turn around, but his arms kept you still. “Really?” You ask as you settle against him once again. When he nodded and hummed, you added, “When?”

“Before I came here,” he answered, tangling his legs with yours under the sheets.

Your lips tremble as you try not to get too ahead of yourself. “Leon,” you nearly whisper.

“It’s over,” he confirmed, kissing your head again. “I promise, this is the last time. She doesn’t mean anything to me anymore.”

“And me?” You felt selfish for asking, but you needed to know that you weren’t the only one feeling this between you and him.

Leon’s hand slides under your shirt as he pulls your body closer to his. “You’re my girl,” he mumbles. “And I love you.”

Your head turns again and you keep your back to his chest as you grin. “You love me?”

He nods, leaning in and brushing his lips against yours. “So much,”

Reaching behind you, your hand tangles in his hair as you pull his head closer to yours. “I love you, too,” you confess, pressing your lips to his afterwards in a kiss that was all smiles. “I missed you, Leon.”

Leon runs his hand higher up your body and strokes the undersides of your breasts. “I missed you, too,” he says as he kisses along your neck. “I thought about you all day.”

“Leon,” you hummed, gripping his hair tighter as his fingers began to tease your nipples. His thumb and index finger gently pinch and pull at the buds, making your legs squeeze around his. “God.”

With the arm that is pinned under your body, his fingers continue to tease your chest while his other hand slides down your body. “I need you, sweetheart,” he nearly begs. “Please.”

He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt like this about Ada, and it was clear that you had completely changed his perspective on what a real, happy relationship looked and felt like.

You remove your hand from his hair and wrap your fingers around his wrist, sliding his hand lower down your body until he is softly rubbing your clit through your panties. “Take me, Leon,” you request in a whisper, reaching behind you so you could gently palm him through his jeans. “I’m yours.”

Leon kisses you deeply, sliding his hand in between the lace and your skin so he could properly tease your clit. “All mine,” he stated when you pulled away and moaned. “‘M all yours, too, baby.”

You whimper when his index finger gathered up your wetness before sinking into you knuckle deep. “Leon,” you moan quietly, struggling to unzip his jeans from the position, but somehow managing to.

“God, you’re so perfect,” he murmured, kissing your shoulder blade. He thrusts his finger a couple of times before adding his middle and allowing his thumb to rub bruising circles onto your clit. “Everything I could ever want.”

This is how it’s supposed to be.

You never pressured him to do anything, never forced anything or broke his trust in any way. It felt so right with you, like how a relationship should.

He didn’t have to force himself to love you, that was something that came naturally, and quite quickly.

Running into you at that bar nearly seven months ago was one of the best things that has ever happened to him, and he wouldn’t take that day back for anything in the whole world.

“Leon,” you moan and it’s the sweetest sound he’s ever heard. “Please, fuck, I need you.”

“I’m right here,” he promised, kissing the side of your head as he slowed down the fucks of his hand in order to help your own rid him of his uncomfortable jeans. “You want this?” He asks, just to be sure you weren’t thinking this was all he came here for.

Really, he would’ve been completely content with spending the night fully clothed and in your arms, but he was also more than okay with ending his day with you wrapped around him.

“I want this,” you kiss him deeply, the angle making your neck hurt a bit but you don’t care. You kick off your panties as you ask, “Do you?”

Another thing he wasn’t used to, the question of consent that sounded so sweet coming from you. “Always,” he answered, kissing you again when you reached back and pulled him free before guiding him to your slick entrance. He slips into you with a deep groan, the quiet gasp you emit making his head spin in the best way. “I love you. I’m sorry I made you wait so long.”

You shake your head and reach back to grip his hair as he pulls your leg to rest over his. “I think I would’ve waited forever, Leon,” you confessed as he began to slowly rock into you.

He grunted quietly at your words and felt his whole body heat up, as well as his heart begin to race. He had never felt this way before, and he was glad he had found the person to experience this with at a still young age.

Leon didn’t ever want to let you go after the first night he met you, and that only intensified as the months went on. “Yeah?” He asked as his hand settled on your hip, his other arm wrapping tightly around you. “I can promise you this, baby, I wouldn’t have made you wait that long. But I love you for telling me that.”

You lean back and kiss him, your brows furrowing at the slow fucks of his hips. “I love you, too, Leon,” you say back, placing your hand on his that was still tightly gripping your waist. “I just want you to be happy.”

He kissed along your neck, his teeth nipping at various spots. “You make me happy,” he rasped, pulling your body impossibly closer to his as he loved on you in more ways than one. “I’ve never been happier.”

You moan at his words, your heart swelling with pride and a bit of shock at the fact that you were, it seems like, the only person who truly has his entire heart, and the only one who has made him feel like this.

At the sound of Leon’s quiet grunts, you allow yourself to lean back and against him completely, the assurance that he was yours entirely after tonight at the front of your mind.

“You make me happy, too,” you say as you bury the side of your face in your pillow. Leon hums in response, pushing your hair away from your neck with his nose before kissing the skin there. “Leon…can I?”

He opens his eyes and looks down at you, noting the way your head was turned so your lips were ghosting against the base of his throat. Without you even finishing your question, he knew what you were asking, and he somehow got even more turned on at your request.

A deep grunt leaves his mouth as he nods, gripping your hip tightly and thrusting into you. “Yeah, baby,” he answered. You smile and moan quietly before kissing his neck, your lips teasing his spotless skin. He grunts again, tilting his head a bit and exposing more of his neck to you. “Do it, baby. Please.”

You give in and suck a mark onto the base of his throat, feeling the pulse of his heartbeat against your lips as you stay there for a bit. He groaned loudly, and the thought of Ada seeing the hickey when he returned back to her with divorce papers sent his mind into a frenzy. He wanted her to see it after seemingly assuming that he had no one other than her. Oh, how wrong she is.

Pulling away with a lopsided grin, you bury your face in the pillow again when he sped up the pace of his hips.

He couldn’t wait for this to become his normal life soon. The sound of your sweet moans filling your room played on repeat in his head whenever he was away from you, and your kind smile was the only thing he thought about when he went to sleep.

“You’re everything I want,” he promised as his hand slipped from your waist and found your clit once again. Your body shuddered against his as a loud moan left your mouth, and you reached a hand down to grip his wrist. “Everything to me.”

“Leon,” you whimper and arch your back a bit as you feel your high quickly approach. Your hand wraps tighter around his wrist as your moans increase in volume, chanting a multitude of “Please.”

“You close, sweet girl?” He asked, already knowing the answer as he felt you clench helplessly around him.

“Yes,” you replied in a breathy whisper, pulling his hand from in between your legs and pressing it against your chest. “Please, Leon.”

He wraps his hand around your breast, his thumb rubbing against your nipple through your shirt. You cry out and he feels your walls spasm a bit as you come around him, your core sucking him in even deeper and begging him to mark it as his own. “Good girl,” he praised, kissing all along your neck while you writhe against him. “Good girl, baby.”

“Leon,” you whispered, leaning back into him again and turning your head so you can brush your lips against his.

“I know,” he rasped, fucking you through your sensitivity. “‘M gonna come, too, baby.”

“I want it,” you begged, tangling your hand in his hair.

And he would never deny you of something you wanted.

He groaned and cursed under his breath, his thrusts halting altogether as he leaned down to kiss you again. You moan against his mouth, your fingers gently massaging his head as you both came down from your highs.

When he pulled out of you, your body turned to face his. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you kiss him deeply and tangle your legs with his again. “You really mean it? It’s really over between you and her?” You ask quietly when you break the kiss, your fingers gently tracing his jawline.

Leon turned his head and kissed your fingertips as he nodded. “It’s over, sweetheart,” he swore, kissing your forehead after. “I’m all yours. I always was.”

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cordeliawhohung · 7 months

Note

Hi!!! i absolutely loovveeddd your simon drabble - maybe u could write a drabble ab mean teasing ghost making u get off on his thighs😭 haven’t been able to get that off my mind in the last couple of days KENFNSKWK THANK YOU

hi!!!! thank you so much! <3 (yall are seriously too sweet) once again (not to beat a dead horse or anything) but i just wanna reiterate that i am very much out of my depth here, but i really hope it's to your liking!

minors dni, thigh riding (obvi), small use of pet names, simon's having too much fun teasing, he's a little mean but still praising, def still a dick tho, slight banter (not proofread very well...)

Riding His Thigh

It starts on the couch in the living room. What was supposed to be a peaceful and quiet night in with a home cooked meal and a movie turned into wandering hands and needy mouths pressed together. You ended up in his lap like you normally do, legs spread apart to accommodate the wideness of his hips just to straddle him.

There was something different about this time, though. Simon's hands moved languid and soft along your sides, and you whined at the lack of want, the lack of force to his grip. You pull out of the kiss with a small pout, and your hands instantly slither down to the band of his jeans.

"Simon..." you whimper, the want evident in your voice as you tug at his zipper. "Fuck... need you so bad..."

That was supposed to be his queue, the green light, but instead he gently pushed your hands away before resting his own on your hips. Then he's pushing you back a little, forcing your leg to slip away from his hips and down towards his thighs where you're then stuck straddling one.

"Gonna need you to work a bit harder than that, sweetheart," he says, his voice laced with a dangerous promise that tells you that he means every word.

You want to argue, you want to pitch a fit and whine saying you can't wait, or that he's cruel for even suggesting such a thing, but then his grip on your hips tighten, and he slowly rocks you along his thigh. It sends a sharp jolting feeling up through your stomach that satisfies your insatiable need for him for only a moment before it washes away with a single breath. You know exactly what he's wanting, and though you're whining about it, you know you don't want to deny him.

Eventually you begin to move on your own, and despite the muted but delicious friction through the fabric of your shorts you stare at Simon with a look that tells him you're not happy about this one bit. He's too busy enjoying the show to mind, though. His hands stay firmly on your hips, refusing to aid you but feeling every single sway of your body.

"There we go," he coos as he relaxes further into the couch.

It's annoying how the baritone of his voice heats your core so hot it swelters. You want to call him names, let your frustrations be known, tell him you want him to fuck you properly. But it's like he can read your mind, and he bounces his leg over so slightly, ripping a sharp gasp from those pretty, pouting lips as the pressure increases and decreases on your clit all too suddenly.

You don't care anymore. You ride his thigh shamelessly, hands resting firmly against his shoulders as you do. Your own thighs tighten around him as you feel the wetness collect in the fabric of your underwear. A whiny moan erupts from you as you clench down around nothing, and despite your frustration you continue through it.

"C'mon," Simon urges gruffly. Suddenly he sits up straight, his grip on your flesh tightening as he now joins in helping you get off on his thigh. "Just once, yeah? Need you to cum for me and I'll give you what you want."

His lips are so close to yours you're nearly kissing but not quite. Every breath you breathe is pushed into his mouth, and you can feel the way his words feel on your skin.

"Just like that, c'mon love," he continues. "Cum for me and I'm all yours."

A few more desperate ruts and pathetic moans later and you're coming undone on his thigh. A small cry leaves your lips as your cunt pulses around absolutely nothing, and you bite into your lip as you slump forward, your forehead resting against his lips. The frustration builds in you again almost instantly as you know that orgasm would have felt ten times better had he stopped teasing and gave you his cock.

"Fuckin' perfect," Simon praises, but his hands don't stop moving. Your poor, overstimulated clit endures more of his teasing as his firm grip forces your body to rock against him once more. He chuckles when you whine. "What? Too much for you?" he teases.

"Fuck you," you bite, but your words quickly fall away as he bounces his knee once more.

"That's the point, isn't it?"

master list and tag lists can be found here!

#core responds #request #sorry this was short lmao #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley #simon riley smut #simon ghost riley smut #simon riley x reader smut #cod smut #ghost mw2 smut #smut #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x you smut

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tumblerlove · 23 days

Note

Simon coming home after deployment all pent up after mistake after mistake on the field, needing some kind of release and it turning rough ROUGH.

also hiii

Oooo yes, thank you. This hits the spot in my brain 👌🏻 and hi babe 😘 hopefully this lives up to whatever you were picturing. Let me know if you like it...

Simons finally going home from a deployment that couldn't have gone fucking worse. The entire mission went to shit. The plane ride home and even the car ride he kept replaying it all

He missed you the entire time, which is nothing new, but this time it was so bad. The team didn't help either. Everyone was pressing eachothers buttons and made a critical mistake during the mission. Then, to make matters worse, the location they were at had no service to make calls to you

He hadn't even taken his gear off when getting off the plane when they landed on base. He just went straight to his car, ignoring everyone. Not giving two shits about it. Just needing to get home to you

He doesn't want to bring home his anger and frustration to you and bring work home. He tries to always separate the two. He doesn't like you seeing him as Ghost...only Simon

He gets home and unlocks the door and notices the house is quiet and dark. He walks to the bedroom, assuming you're asleep, but when he walks in you're awake in bed reading

"Oh my god, Simon...I didn't hear you," you yell, startled and jump off the bed running towards him. "I thought you were asleep," he replies, his tone different than it would usually be when he came home. "Is everything alright Si...did something happen?" You ask him while he steps out of your hug far too quickly, not even kissing you yet

"Fuck" he grunts while removing his heavy gear finally just down to his boxers "Everything went to fuckin hell...all of it" he's pretty upset which he never is once he's home with you. It was just this mission was bad. He didn't mean to bring it home to you

"I'm sorry, Simon," you walk up to him while he sits on the edge of bed standing in between his legs. You start combing his hair with your fingers, thinking of how to help him

"It's not your fault, lovie. I'm sorry for bringing it back home." he looks up at you, his hands at your waist. "I have an idea for your frustration to go away if you want, Si." You look at him as you crawl into his lap and straddle him

"I'm listening." he smiles at you finally while kissing up and down his neck. You tell him simply "Use me," and he's flipping you both over. "You want me to use you, love?" he looks at you all of sudden like your prey he caught

"Take your frustrations out on me...I don't care," you say to him, a little shaky, losing your confidence staring at him above you

"I'm not going to be gentle like I usually am when I come home" he tells you, "I'm telling you now if you dont want too" His cock is already hard pressing into your stomach eager for you

You know he needs this release, and honestly, you want him to be rough with you. You want to see him unhinged a little bit. Your finger starts toying with the band of his boxers as you say, "I don't want you to be gentle." He crashes his lips into yours, finally kissing you. "Remember that you asked for it, love," Simon smiles while moving down your neck, leaving hickies behind

He's pawing at you with his rough calloused hands going underneath your shirt taking it off of you. His mouth latches onto your nipple licking at it. "Uh fuck" you gasp out at the sudden sensation. He's going back and forth between your breasts giving them equal attention. He bites your nipple making you squeal out from the painful sensation. While his hand pinches the other one

His movements are quick and rough a big contrast to how he usually is with you...it feels so different and so good

He rocks his cock against your clothed cunt creating just a little bit of friction. "Take my cock out" he grunts out to you. You reach down and start helping him get out of his boxers. His cock is already hard and leaking pre-cum from his red tip

He slides your panties to the side while he rubs up and down your slit his tip hitting your clit as he went up "Next time I'm gone...I'm taking these exact panties to remember this" Simon says his breath getting heavier after having a feel of your wet pussy

You gasp out when he yanks down your panties, finally leaving you both bare. "Shit, Si," you say, looking at his eyes that are filled with lust. His hands grab your waist flipping you onto your hands and knees bearing yourself fully to him "I've missed this pussy... my pussy" he murmurs into your back kissing down your spine

His tip is teasing your entrance "Simon...please just fuck me" you plead with him just wanting to feel him fill you up. "I'll fuck you when I feel like it" his tone rough before he smacks your ass making you moan and clench around nothing

"Ohhh you like that huh honey...I can see your cunt dripping for me" Simon's voice and actions are rough, teasing and playful. "Please Si please" you're almost at tears

"Oh, just cause you asked so nicely lovie," he says before he pushes into you finally. "Fuck I've missed you" Simon blurts out once he's buried fully into your cunt. "I've mis...missed you, Simon." Your breath hitching with every deep thrust he makes

Your ass is jiggling against his thighs with each stroke he takes, inching you both up the bed with his speed and force. His hands perfectly molded into your hips, guiding you back to fuck you forward

Your face ends up in the mattress, muting your moans. Simon's hand goes to the nape of your neck, pulling your face up, kissing your neck, saying, "It's been too long since I've heard your moans... let me hear them."

His words alone make you moan, his voice is grity and hoarse. His thrusts are getting sloppier, too. He's holding onto your body like his life depends on it. You can feel the heat and sweat sticking to you, too

The sounds of you of moaning, with Simon's grunting and curses and the wet sounds your cunt and his dick are making...it's all so much and so good

He pulls out of you causing you to whine. "Why, why did you stop?" You ask him, trying to scoot back towards his cock. He slaps your ass making your gasp from the sting. "As much as I love seeing your ass..." Simon says while he massages the sting. "Id rather see your face now" his voice sounding desperate like yours with the need to cum

He's moving you onto you back, hovering over you again. Simon's kissing you and groaning into your mouth as he slides his cock back into your cunt. Moans are coming out of both of you as Simon moves your legs on his shoulders, reaching a new angle making your eyes cross behind closed eyes

"Look at me when you cum" Simon's hand moves from holding your leg up to cupping your face. "I wanna see you drip on my cock" his tone serious as if he has to see you cum or else. He sneaks his hand down your body rubbing firm circles around your clit. "Don't stop... don't stop," you plead to him, feeling your orgasm approaching clenching around his cock

"Fuck I won't I won't" Simon's grunts out as his cock starts throbbing ready to cum inside you after such a long time away. "Come on love cum" he locks eyes with you, watching as you come apart underneath him

Simon's cumming almost immediately feeling your walls clench down on him and how much wetter you got. He's groaning into the side of your neck his body weight like a blanket on you. He's rubbing your clit until your both completely done cumming and your squirming from the overstimulation

You're both panting, looking at each other, trying to come back down from earth. "Thank you," he kisses you gently. You look at him and can see he's more relaxed than when he first got home

"It worked then?" You smile at him as he pulls out of you, causing you both to groan. He wraps his arms around you like a cocoon as he says, "I'm not sure maybe a little bit...we're just gonna have to go again," he smirks as you laugh and say "Oh I think someone's fine now" as he starts tickling your sides laughing at your squeals...yeah he's fine now

#simon ghost riley #ghost smut #ghost simon riley #cod smut #simon riley #simon ghost riley fanfiction #ghost cod #simon riley smut

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bigassmoonchild · 7 months

Note

this is just pure self induglence

can i request ghost ripping into each member of the team over something stupid they did and when he finally get to us he cant yell and tell us not to do it again really sweetly and leaves the room and soap asks us how we get him to be nice and it leads to them finding out

A. we outrank him

B. hes our hubby and cant be mean to us even if he tried

(i love it when soap just never gets told anything about simons personal life. it’s like another way soap and ghost just go at each other to me 💀)

🫶🫶 (love my anons)

‘you need to start thinking more, sergeant!’ ghost nearly growled into soaps face. ‘if you’d think, maybe we wouldn’t ‘ave had to evacuate like we did, and maybe there wouldn’t have been three dead!’ and all soap could do was look away.

price had disappeared. he well outranked the lieutenant and didn’t need to stay behind for the talking to everyone was getting. you, though, you stayed because you wanted to.

he moved on to gaz, staring down at the younger man. ‘and you’re supposed to be with him,’ he pointed at soap, ‘at all times. did you forget? is that why he went off and fucked up?’ he snarled.

soap opened his mouth, ready to defend gaz before ghost cut him off. ‘don’t you even think about it, sergeant. i want you both on the field tomorrow. 0500,’ and he turned to you.

soap and gaz watched as the lieutenant just looked at you, your eyes glaring through his own. it was like you were talking to each other without speaking, and ghost shook his head. ‘don’t do that again,’ he huffed out and marched away.

gaz visibly relaxed, allowing his shoulders to fall from their stiff position. rubbing at his neck, he looked between you and soap.

‘i’m just gonna go on and get some food. might knock out early so ghost doesn’t fuck me up too bad tomorrow,’ and he walked off.

falling into step beside you, soap and yourself just walked for a bit. soap needed to blow of some steam. ‘how do you do it?’ he turned to you, face fallen and almost hurt. ‘i don’t get it, he never yells at you, he doesn’t do anything to you,’ he shook his head.

the mission hadn’t gone as poorly as ghost had thought. there were some missing pieces of intel, a few soldiers lost in the ranks here or there. maybe an outdated blueprint.

where you’d been watching, ready to help snipe should anything go wrong, things seemed to be going okay. soap hadn’t fucked anything up too bad, he just hadn’t seen someone walking by before they’d seen him.

he was almost shot, barely getting away. gaz had barely gotten away with the needed intel, but had to lose the person you’d been after. that was going to ruin a lot of things in the long run.

‘you didn’t do as poorly as ghost thinks,’ you said to soap, ignoring his initial comment. ‘he just gets all up in his head, believes that anything that goes wrong is nobody’s fault but ours,’ you told him.

you weren’t going to explain how he believed it was his own fault. when soldiers he was leading fell, he took it as though he was the one killing them.

soap shook his head. ‘how do you do it? he barely even tells you when you screw things up,’ you gave a little laugh.

‘oh he tells me, soap,’ you responded. ‘you just don’t ever see it, because he’s private. sure, i may outrank him, but-‘

‘you outrank ghost?’ he stared at you, brows furrowed. you nodded.

‘i just don’t ever wear my stripes or pins,’ you told him. ‘colonel, but i’ve stepped aside to help you guys out. god awful amount of paperwork, though,’ you shrugged and looked away.

soap shook his head. ‘he yells at price sometimes, but he never even gets angry at you. there’s something else,’ you gave soap a little smile.

finally looking back at the scot, you fully grinned at him. ‘it’s cause i’m his wife, and he’d be sleeping with the dogs if he ever yelled at me,’ you told him.

blinking at you, soap took a moment to process it. ‘you’re his what?’ you nodded, pulling the necklace with your wedding band on it. he grabbed it gently, staring at the pretty stone. ‘he even knows what type of metal you wear?’

you nodded. ‘he’s a genuine sweetheart sometimes, but he has his reasons for speaking to you guys the way he does,’

‘i guess,’ soap looked away. ‘ever think about having kids,’ you shoved him away from you, laughing.

#simon riley x reader #fluff #simon ghost x reader #john soap mctavish #cod mw2 #task force 141 #modern warfare ii #call of duty x reader #call of duty #no use of y/n #simon riley #ghost mw2 #slight angst at first #it gets better #mentions of death

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burntheedges · 3 months

Text

Maintenance Request: Chapter 9

Joel Miller x f!reader | new chapter every Friday 18+ | ao3 | main post & chapter list chapter word count: 3.4k

a/n: so Joel finally asked you out. now what? thank you as always to @katareyoudrilling for being the best beta 💕 chapter tags/warnings: fluff, banter, flirting, angst, mention of past (bad) relationship, misunderstandings

Chapter 9

Tuesday, October 15 Eighth week of the semester

You saw Joel twice the day after you had lunch. On your way to class in the morning your eyes caught on the angle of his hip from across the quad, and you couldn’t help but laugh at yourself. You’d just recognized the shape of him from all the way over here without even trying. When you looked back over, you saw that Joel had noticed you, as well. He smiled and waved from his spot next to a crew of landscapers, and you waved back, grinning.

Later that afternoon, you answered a knock at your office door to once again find Joel dropping by with his tool kit. “Heard your window’s stuck, darlin’. You didn’t have to submit a maintenance request, you could’ve just told me.” He winked at you as he walked over to your window.

“I thought we had to go through the system?” You swiveled your chair to watch him as he worked, chin propped in your hand. You’d only put the request in this morning, he got here pretty quick.

“Well, what they don’t know won’t hurt ‘em.”

You laughed — nothing about that statement aligned with your experience of university bureaucracy. “I was with my boss when I noticed and she told me to put in the request. But maybe next time I’ll just call my Hot Maintenance Guy instead.” He turned to study you when you said it, taking in your poorly hidden smile and fidgeting fingers. He raised his eyebrows and looked a bit smug.

“Yeah darlin’. Next time just call your guy.” He put a slight emphasis on “your” and winked and it sent heat spiraling down your spine. You sucked in a sharp breath.

Joel couldn’t stick around after he fixed your window, but he did brush his fingertips over your shoulder as he walked by on his way out. Right at the neckline of your top. You shivered and felt the ghost of his fingertips for hours afterwards.

You didn’t realize until much later that you still hadn’t exchanged numbers.

...

Thursday, October 17 Eighth week of the semester

On Thursday, one day before your date, you were walking to your afternoon class when Joel appeared out of nowhere and fell into step beside you. You smiled and greeted him, but he looked worried. “What is it, Joel?”

“I hate to do this, darlin’, but could we reschedule for next week? This is the last thing I want to do, believe me, but we had to move Sarah’s sleepover to next Friday, she’s got a thing at school, some kind of show. Now she’ll be home, and I’ve got to take her to the school on Friday night, and well, I don’t want to miss it.”

You were already nodding. “Joel, of course. Sarah comes first.” You were a little disappointed to have to wait a whole week for your date, but that didn’t mean you didn’t want to go. For Joel, you could wait.

He sighed, clearly relieved. “Thank you. She was feeling pretty guilty too, no matter how much I told her not to.”

You elbowed him. “Tell her it’s ok, from me, alright?”

“I will. You know, next week I know the band that’s playin’, anyway. They’re always a good time.” He held open the door to your building for your class. “Comin’ in, too, darlin’?” You nodded and walked in. As you passed him, he reached out and ever so lightly brushed his fingers against your lower back, turning to go inside with you. You shivered.

“I’ve got class, what are you here for?” you asked, curious. You hadn’t seen him around at this time before.

“Got a new meeting with the graduation folks, we’ll be meeting here every week. Guess I’ll be seein’ you around now on Thursdays.” He smiled and winked at you, and you smiled back.

“Maybe we can have lunch a couple of times next week, since we moved our date.” As the words left your mouth you realized neither of you had actually called it a date, yet. But Joel was already nodding before you could even get nervous.

“Darlin’, I would love nothin’ more.”

You arrived at your classroom, and Joel stopped next to you before you stepped inside. “What time is your meeting over?”

He shifted his weight. “s’just an hour. Probably before you’re done.” You nodded. “Maybe I’ll stick my head in, see what your class is about.” You could tell he was teasing, but he also seemed… interested?

You shrugged. “It’s a big room, I wouldn’t mind.” He gave you the half smile you were pretty sure was already your favorite in response.

“Well, maybe I’ll see you later, gorgeous.” He said that last part lowly in deference to the presence of students passing you — you saw some of your students glance at the two of you as they went into the classroom. He reached out to squeeze your upper arm once before saying goodbye and turning to continue down the corridor, and you smiled.

…

Joel wasn’t prepared to see you teach.

He thought he was — thought he’d started getting more accustomed to your brilliance, to the way you could blow him away with a casual observation about music or by quoting a freaking poem to him over lunch. He knew you were smart. He knew you could charm people (you’d charmed him, after all, without even saying anything), he knew that students liked you and so did your colleagues (Trevor notwithstanding, and no one liked him, anyway). He could imagine you, up in front of a room, holding everyone’s attention.

But watching you actually teach was something else entirely.

You had a poem up on the projector screen, but it was clearly just for reference. You’d written some ideas up on the board, but at the moment he slipped in the door you were listening intently to a student’s comments. He tucked himself into the last row.

Right as he sat down, you started to reply to the student, and Joel wasn’t sure he breathed for the next 15 minutes. Wasn’t sure of much of anything, in fact, except for the way you commanded the room. You were on fire — clearly passionate about the subject, clearly wanting the students to find some way to connect with it, too. Almost dancing around the room as you moved from the board to the podium to standing among the students. Something about the way you read lines of poetry as examples made him feel like he was floating through a poem himself.

It was like listening to music, watching you teach the class. He was fucking mesmerized.

…

It was only as you dismissed everyone that you looked up and found Joel hiding in the back row. You caught his eye and immediately felt your cheeks warm — he was staring you down and the look on his face was intent. There was warmth in his gaze and something that made you squirm in place.

As the final student left the room, Joel stood, and slowly made his way up to the front to stand next to you. Close.

“Well, um, what did you think?” You were nervous — he hadn’t said anything yet, and you knew 20th Century American poetry wasn’t everyone’s thing. Finally, his expression changed.

“Darlin’, you were breathtaking.” Joel’s eyes widened as he reached out to lightly brush his fingertips down your arm, nudging his hand against your own before finally hooking your index fingers together. He stepped closer. “You’re an amazing teacher.”

You felt like you were going to vibrate right out of your shoes, or maybe melt into a puddle on the floor. Maybe both at the same time. “Well, you only saw a few minutes—”

He interrupted you, scoffing. “I saw enough. You’re as brilliant at this as you are at everything else.”

You tightened your finger around his without meaning to. “I— um. Thank you.” You looked up at him, eyes wide and out of breath.

You don’t know what might have happened next — you were standing close, so close to him — because the students started to enter for the next class, slamming the door open as they arrived. You startled and jumped away from Joel, accidentally letting go of his hand in the process.

“Um. Walk me back to my office?” He nodded. As you left the building you realized you were breathing like you’d run a marathon, and couldn’t stop stealing glances at him as you walked.

“Hey, darlin’, before I forget, let me give you my number.” You grinned, glad one of you finally remembered, and handed him your phone. “I realized this morning I didn’t actually have it.”

When you arrived at your building, he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. He lingered before pulling away, and the look in his eye as he said goodbye stole your breath away. Again.

…

you (5:07 PM): he snuck into my class (5:08 PM): he said I’m BREATHTAKING

bestie (5:10 PM): jesus (5:11 PM): I mean, he’s right and he should say it, but when are you letting this guy get in your pants (5:11 PM): put you out of your misery already

you (5:12 PM): 🙄 (5:12 PM): our date is postponed until next week

bestie (5:13 PM): noooo

you (5:14 PM): it’s a scheduling thing with his daughter so it’s fine, but ugh

bestie (5:16 PM): at this rate you’re going to jump him in the car before you can even go anywhere

you (5:17 PM): I can control myself

bestie (5:18 PM): sure (5:18 PM): I’ll believe it when I see it

...

Friday, October 18 Eighth week of the semester

On Friday, the original day of your date, you hoped you would run into Joel even though you hadn’t made any official plans with him. You were in a good mood; it was hard not to be, these days. You’d been so wrong about Joel, and thinking back through all of your interactions, it was easy to see he was flirting. Especially since you’d gotten to know him better.

You were heading back to your office from your morning class when you did see Joel, after all — across the quad, standing next to a woman you didn’t recognize. You started to turn to head towards him when she lifted up on the balls of her feet and seemed to press a kiss to his cheek before whispering in his ear. He laughed, hugged her, and then started to walk away.

You were frozen for a minute before a passing student jostled your arm and then you erupted into motion, turning and almost jogging to your office.

Who was that? Did she actually kiss him? They were pretty far away, though.

You didn’t think Joel would ask you out if he was seeing someone else… but you didn’t know him that well. Or did you?

Shit. Who was that?

At that moment you realized Joel had turned down one of the paths heading in your direction and had caught sight of you. But you were passing the head of the path and suddenly you knew you couldn’t see him right then. You needed to think. You started walking even faster and pretended you didn’t notice him coming towards you.

…

By the time you reached the door of your building, Joel had reached the end of the path, and stopped to watch you go. He didn’t know why, but something felt off. He shook his head and decided to text you later.

He did, but you didn’t respond.

…

Some part of you knew, in the moment, that you were maybe overreacting. You texted Beth before you could spiral too far, hoping for a gut check.

bestie (11:17 AM): wait, so she kissed him?

you (11:18 AM): no, just on the cheek. I mean that’s what it looked like anyway

(11:18 AM): I was pretty far away (11:19 AM): it seemed friendly. they hugged

bestie (11:20 AM): but not on the lips

you (11:22 AM): no

bestie (11:24 AM): I mean, friends do that, babe

you (11:25 AM): I know. I know (11:26 AM): I know that (11:26 AM): it’s just (11:27 AM): ugh

bestie (11:29 AM): it’s just Matt

you (11:30 AM): UGH

bestie (11:31 AM): I know you know this, but I’m going to say it anyway (11:32 AM): every guy isn’t like Matt

you(11:33 AM): I know

bestie (11:35 AM): and from what you’ve told me, Joel isn’t anything like Matt at all

you (11:36 AM): no he isn’t

bestie (11:38 AM): he’s already shown you more of his interest and feelings for you than Matt did in 2 years

you (11:38 AM): I know

bestie (11:38 AM): and he’s made it obvious how much he likes you, babe (11:39 AM): I can’t say for sure but it doesn’t seem like he’s the kind of guy who’d flirt with you and ask you out if he had a girlfriend (11:39 AM): and he did introduce you to his daughter. who I assume would know about a girlfriend

(11:40 AM): it doesn’t really go with what we know of him so far

you (11:40 AM): I know that in my mind (11:40 AM): but I don’t feel it

bestie (11:41 AM): well I’ll keep saying it if it helps (11:41 AM): but you should probably talk to Joel

you (11:42 AM): ugh (11:42 AM): I’m afraid if I talk to him now I’m going to react like I’m talking to Matt (11:43 AM): not him

bestie (11:43 AM): well that’s fair. take some time then

you (11:44 AM): yeah (11:52 AM): I’m just going to go home

bestie (11:55 AM): do NOT wallow (11:55 AM): I’ll come after you

you (11:57 AM): I’ll see you in the morning for brunch

bestie (11:59 AM): no wallowing (11:59 AM): or else (11:59 AM): 🔪

you (12:03 PM): you’ve been talking to Ellie too much

…

Joel (1:37 PM): Everything alright darlin? I saw you walking in a real hurry this morning, you looked upset. (1:37 PM): I’m sorry again about our date.

(5:42 PM): Hope you’re having a good start to your weekend.

(6:21 PM): I don’t want to overstep, darlin, but let me know you’re alright.

…

Saturday, October 19 Eighth week of the semester

You spent Friday night distracting yourself — it was difficult, since it was the original night of your date, and you kept wondering who that woman was. You didn’t want to ask, no matter what Beth said, and you didn’t want to seem like a creepy stalker. And what if she was his girlfriend? You knew that was unlikely, but you still didn’t trust yourself to have the conversation with Joel and not the ghost of your ex looming over you. Neither of you deserved that.

On Saturday morning Ellie joined you again for brunch. You were pretty sure Beth told her to come because you were a mess, since last you’d heard she was hanging out with Riley this weekend.

“Wait, let me get this straight,” Ellie held her hand out in front of your face like a stop sign and you sighed. Beth was nodding along with her.

“You saw him with some woman across the quad. It was far away, but you think she kissed his cheek and hugged him. And right after that he saw you and his face lit up like an excited puppy like it always does, but you ran away from him like a weirdo. Is that correct?” You buried your face in your hands.

“Look, I don’t like boys, but even I know that’s dumb. She could just be his friend. He wasn’t, like, trying to hide it. And you know I’d fucking fight him if he was.” Ellie punctuated her statement with a long draw on her straw from her almost-empty soda. It was loud.

“I know! I know, ok. I should just ask him and not hide from his texts.” You pressed your hands even harder into your face. “I just… I was so afraid the answer would be the bad one. I just ran away.”

Beth hummed. “Look, we know why you might think that way.” There was a pause, and you knew without looking that Ellie and Beth were making eye contact and making a face about your ex at the same time. Predictable. “But based on what we know there’s no reason to think Joel is like that. Like I told you yesterday, he’s basically a huge nerd for you. Like, a cheesy, head over heels nerd. Can’t get enough of you.”

“How can you even tell?” You sounded miserable, and you knew this was a weak effort at arguing against her point.

Ellie scoffed and started ticking off items on her fingers. “He’s going out of his way to see you. He told you you’re gorgeous. He told his brother about you.” She paused and delivered her next point like it was proof all on its own. “He introduced you to his daughter. Like, you haven’t even introduced him to me. It’s the same thing. It’s a big deal. You wouldn’t introduce some random person to me, and it sounds like he’s not that kind of asshole.” You finally looked up, and Beth was nodding while Ellie gave you the most unimpressed look she’d ever mustered in your presence. It was really something. You both knew she was familiar with “that kind of asshole,” as she put it, so you sighed and nodded.

Her comparison of herself with Sarah, but for you, tugged at your heart and made you want to smother her in a hug. You knew that wouldn’t be welcome in public so you poked her with your spoon instead. She rolled her eyes and tried to hide a smile.

“He said you were breathtaking,” Beth added, and Ellie snorted into her food. “Babe, unless we’re missing something huge, the man is embarrassingly into you, and he wasn’t trying to hide you. You need to talk to him. It’s the only way to be sure.”

“Ok! Ok.” You reached out for your mimosa and took a long swig. “But I think I want to do it in person.”

“Well, if you don’t answer his text I bet you’ll see him first thing Monday morning because he won’t be able to help himself. He’ll probably be camped outside your office door with coffee and a sad face.” Beth gestured at your phone. You sighed. Joel’s last unanswered text was waiting for you.

Joel (6:21 PM): I don’t want to overstep, darlin, but let me know you’re alright.

He’d sent it Friday evening, after his first texts about your almost run-in on the quad. You hadn’t been able to respond to any of them.

“What do I say that won’t open the whole can of worms over text?” You shrugged.

Beth sighed. “Just tell him you had a long day and you want to see him on Monday. Or leave him hanging, but like, you actually like this guy, right?” You nodded.

Ellie nudged you, interjecting, “then yeah, text him back.”

You picked up your phone and clicked on your messaging app. Frowning at the screen, you slowly typed out a response and sent it before you could think about it too hard.

you (11:17 AM): Sorry, I didn’t see this yesterday. I’m fine! I’ll see you Monday

It felt short, off from your normal conversations, but maybe that was ok. You felt off kilter, and weren’t sure how to hide it without lying. And you really didn’t want to explain your whole overreaction and the reason for it over text.

You put your phone down and tried to put it out of your mind. “Let’s talk about something else. I promise to talk to him on Monday, ok? Now I just have to get to Monday without going insane.” Beth nodded and helpfully changed the subject to an update on Tuna Melt Mark, her coworker in the library that consistently brought the worst possible lunch to heat in a microwave and still did it, even when everyone got mad at him, every single time. Ellie was already laughing before she’d even gotten halfway through the story and you finally smiled.

…

a/n: don’t hate me! if you’re like me and the idea of sitting with even a little bit of angst is a lot, feel free to message me about it to ask what happens. happy to hint. but also remember the tags for the whole story are on the main post. :) prev | next

taglist: @jupiter-soups @ilovepedro @auteurdelabre @anoverwhelmingdin @myloveistoolittle @iknowisoundcrazy @beezusvreeland @screechingphantommaker @bigboiseason123 @joelalorian

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #tlou fic #x reader #joel miller fic #maintenance request fic #JHCGBDM

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justmeinadaze · 10 months

Text

Ghost In The Machine (Eddie X You)

A/N: I wrote this a few days ago because I need it more than anything rn.

Title is based off of SZA's song "Ghost In The Machine".

"I give a fuck, I just wanna fuck, eat, sleep, love, happy Can you make me happy? Can you keep me happy?

Can you distract me from all the disaster? Can you touch on me and not call me after? Can you hate on me and mask it with laughter? Can you lead me to the ark? What's the password?

I need humanity You're like humanity"

They do text near the end. Eddie's texts will be in red.

Warnings: Daddy Dom Eddie X Stripper Sub (slight bratty) Fem Reader, SMUT, dirty talk, dry humping, phone smut, slight degrading if you squint, choking), Eddie is kinda mean at first, traumas are alluded to but not expanded on (Child abuse; bad past relationships), light FLUFF with my usual dash of the ANGST.

Word Count: 4060

Being asked to perform at parties like this wasn’t new for you and the other girls. Having the manager of a famous band reach out to your company for some “entertainment” wasn’t odd either. What was odd was that you were told Corroded Coffin had four band members and right now you were looking at three. They seemed content with the girls they had grinding and kissing on their lap so you decided to take a look around the mansion style home you guys had been called to.

It was extremely beautiful with a bunch of rooms displaying different things. Your fingers grazed the wall at the bottom of the bands framed platinum and gold albums. Turning into what you assumed was a game room, you found a billiards table and a PlayStation with a mini bar in the corner. Around the area, shelfs prominently showed off the band’s awards and accolades with MANY pictures of them in different places.

As you walked further down the hall, you passed an open-door smelling smoke and hearing light strumming of a guitar. Pausing, you took a couple of steps back to peer into the room, finding that missing fourth member.

He had headphones on over his long, wavy hair as a half-finished cigarette dangled from his lips. His eyes were closed as his fingers ran across the instruments strings as it leaned against his bare chest. His jeaned leg and barefoot tapped to a beat as he listened to his music.

“Jesus Christ!”, he exclaimed as his eyes shot open feeling a change in the atmosphere. “What the fuck are you doing over here?! You girls are supposed to stay in the goddamn living room.”

“Hey there’s no reason to be rude! Your friends were preoccupied with the other ladies so I thought I’d look around.”

“Uh huh. To steal shit?”

“No! To look. I got bored, ok?!”

“Hm. A hooker who’s bored. That’s something I haven’t heard before.” His tone is dripping with mocking as he rises to his feet.

“That’s no reason for you to be a fucking asshole!”

“You watch your mouth when you talk to me, little girl. I can make sure you and your ‘company’ never get another job again.”

“Oh, Mr. Tough Rockstar is oh no scary. Fuck you. I’ve handled way worse clients than the number 5 band on the billboard charts.”

The man’s held tilted to the side as he finally drank you in. You were visually different than what he expected when his friends had suggested reaching out to an agency to have some women come over to celebrate with since they were nominated for another Grammy. Eddie didn’t care about that kind of thing; he just wanted to play music. When he heard the car pull up, he immediately disappeared to his room to practice and write some new songs. Not that he wasn’t interested in “entertaining a woman”. This metalhead liked a challenge and he enjoyed even more a strong woman that wouldn’t just cater to his every whim. He didn’t want a woman who would get down on her knees no questions asked. Eddie wanted one who would tell him to fuck off but then after a few consensual activities would be dripping and begging for his cock.

Women were offered to him and his friends constantly. He wanted something he had to earn so that way when she finally submitted, it was all the more sweet.

“What’s your name?”, he asked in a much softer tone.

“Y/N. You?”

“Are you asking to be polite or do you genuinely not know who the guitarist of the band who is number five on the billboard charts?”

“Do you always make things this complicated?”

“Yes.” When he grins at you, you can’t help but smile back.

“Some of the other ladies find catering to a man’s ego really gets them going. I find it’s better to ask them questions, Mr. Munson, especially since most of our clients think we don’t care about them.”

“Do you? Care I mean.”

“Sometimes.”, you shrug.

“You’re honest. I like that.”

“I don’t really see the point in lying if I’m probably never going to see you again.”

“Do you WANT to see me again?”

This time it was your turn to tilt your head. He said that with a lot of the sass he had been giving you since he saw you but something else was behind his eyes when he spoke, something lonely. Your palm reached out confidently, landing on the bulge in his jeans. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t notice his size. The part of him that was against your hand wasn’t even all of him and you gulped as you tried to regain your confident composure.

“Do you want me to help you feel better now, Mr. Munson?”

“You didn’t answer my question.”, the guitarist mused as he stepped forward, placing his own palm against the wall behind you and trapping you against it. “I hate when my questions go unanswered.”

“You-you must be used to disappointment then.”

His nose grazed yours, grinning a big tooth filled smile before his eyes flicked down to your hand on his cock.

“You must be to, Y/N.” Slowly, his fingers trace down your arm and take hold of your wrist as he holds it still. “Be honest. Have you ever felt a dick as big as mine?”

You licked your lips as his hips began grinding against your palm, trying to push down the moan that wanted to escape.

“Ooo someone’s confident.”, you jest. Something in his look changes as the hand on the wall behind you slides down to your throat. In most situations with your other clients this would be a time to panic but he wasn’t gripping you violently. When his fingers firmly pressed into your skin, your brain felt fuzzy as your pussy clenched around nothing.

“I’d say I’ve earned the right to be confident. Now, Y/N, this your one warning. Answer the questions I ask you. Do I make myself clear?”

“Y-yes Mr. Munson. I understand. N-no. I’ve never felt a dick like yours.”

He smirked as he pressed your palm harder against him. “Good girl.” Your let out a sigh when he released his hold on your neck to push some of your hair behind your ear. “You really are beautiful, Y/N. Fuck and your hand feels so good. I can only imagine how the rest of you feels.”

“You don’t have to imagine. You can have me if you want me.”

Eddie’s smirk grows as he bites his bottom lip. “Honestly, sweetheart, I’ve never wanted anything more but…that’s not how I play. I don’t want you to fuck me because you’re paid to.” He leans in till his lips are right by your ear. “I want you to fuck me because you want to…need me to.” You hear his breathing stutter as he moves his hips faster, his grip on your wrist tightening. “Beg me to.”

“Oh fuck…”, you whimpered at his words. His movements become choppy and grunts before you feel dampness on his jeans.

He leans back placing his forehead on yours as he licks his lips and softly smiles. “See, what would usually happen now is I’d make you cum to. I bet that pussy is just aching to be touched but see…you’re getting to paid to make us feel good…not the other way around.”

You’re honestly too stunned to say anything or fight back with your typical brand of sass. Right now, all you can think of his him and how bad you need something from him; anything.

“Can…can I kiss you?”

When he nods, you waste no time connecting your lips to his. You immediately taste the nicotine but that undertone of him has you dizzy. All too quickly, it’s over as he pulls away. He doesn’t just move his head but his whole body as he backs towards his bed, yanking off his now stained jeans and boxers.

“How long are you ladies here for?”, he asks nonchalantly as he sits on the bed and picks up his guitar again.

“Huh? Oh, um, 2 AM I think.”

He glances at his phone before handing it to you. “Time’s almost up. Put your number in there for me.”

Eddie said it like a command and your instinct was to say something snarky but as you looked down at him strumming his instrument without looking at you, you realized there was more to this man than meets the eye. Most men who begged for your number always watched you intently to make sure you actually did it, you assumed. Of course, you gave them a fake number or the number to the agency you worked for but with this man here his head remained lowered. It was almost like he was afraid you wouldn’t…like he really hoped you would and would be hurt if he watched you decline, giving the phone back.

There was something about Eddie that you wanted to know more about. He wasn’t like everyone else you had been around. For some reason, you felt like you could trust him.

After inputting your real number, you placed his device back on his nightstand and sat beside him. “We still have 45 minutes. Can I ask what you’re working on?”

His eyes shoot over to you as he cautiously scans your soft smiling face. “We’re working on this new album and Jeff has this song he wrote but I can’t find the right sound. I was just messing around and recording them to see if it sparked something.”

“May I hear what you have so far?”

“Um, yeah, sure.”

He reached over, grabbing an extra set of headphones and placed them over you head. You grinned as different guitar riffs and melodies began to play.

“This is all you?” Eddie nods. “Wow. Mr. Munson, you are definitely talented.”

When he pauses the recording and you slide the headphones around your neck. “You can call me Eddie if you’d like.”

“Okay, Eddie.” After putting the headphones over your ears again, he pressed play and you both leaned back in his bed.

He couldn’t help but be a little shocked that you didn’t try to touch him again. Anywhere he or his band went, people tried to touch his body whether it was meet and greets, walking through the street, or even on stage when overzealous fans would jump on and run at them. Any girl that was lucky enough to be in his bed would insist on touching him until she left as if she knew this would be the last time she saw him. That’s another reason he struggled to maintain any kind of relationship. Besides the crazy rockstar life, he never was keen on being constantly touched.

He got enough of that with his career and when he was growing up when his dad would knock him around. With his last relationship, they fought constantly because there were times he would come home from a long day and just wanted a moment to decompress alone. He knew she meant well but even after nicely asking her to give him a moment she would still try and wrap her arms around him or try and kiss parts of his body.

What he didn’t know yet was that you understood that feeling all too well. Being in your line of work, men seemed to believe you didn’t even have a line they shouldn’t cross, always touching some part of your body until their time was up. When you were just a stripper at the company you worked for, men were the same but at least you had a bouncer to quickly pulled them back. When times got hard and you told your boss you were willing to sign up for the “side hustle”, it was just you and the girls.

No one had ever gotten too physical like that but after your client came you just wanted them to roll over and crash or just leave you there till the timer was up. Personally, you chose to stay away from relationships knowing most men wouldn’t like your line of business. Men constantly offered to “save you” but you knew it was all talk. They didn’t really care about you.

When you moved to the city, you promised you were only going to look out for yourself. You took care of you and had for a long time. The last time you relinquished control like that, you got burned and ran all the way to a new state.

A small hand tapped your knee and you jumped before realizing it was one of the other girls letting you know time was up.

“Ok, I’ll be right there.” You turn to Eddie and hand him his headphones. “I really like what you have so far. That last one was beautiful.”

“Thank you. Here, um, let me grab my sweatpants and I can walk you out.”

“Oh, Eddie, no. You don’t have to do that. It’s super late and in your gated front yard I don’t think anyone is going to jump us.”, you giggle.

“Ok…I’m going to put on pants anyway though because I want to hug you if that’s alright.” Without waiting for an answer, he finds a pair on the floor and pulls them up just below his hips.

“Do arms not work without sweats?”

“They do but I don’t want to be disrespectful by rubbing my dick on you and making you uncomfortable.”

“Didn’t I just…”

“You made that move, sweetheart. You put your hand on me.”, he grins as he places his body in front of yours. “May I hug you?”

When you nod, he wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest as your own limbs cling to his upper torso. This was a new feeling for you. It had been so long since you felt safe in someone’s arms. His hand petted your hair as he kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll talk to you later to make sure you’re alright.”

***

You sighed as you entered your front door, putting away your things, and throwing yourself on your bed as you closed your eyes. A sudden ding on your phone made your eyebrows scrunch as you blindly searched for it on your bed. Swiping it open, you noticed it was from an unknown number but as you read the message, a smile slowly formed on your face.

“Hey, sweetheart. Just checking in to make sure you got home alright.”

“Are you stalking me, Mr. Munson? Lol. I literally just walked in the door.”

Tossing your phone back on the bed, you figure it will most likely take him awhile to respond but as you go to your closet to change you hear that familiar ding.

“Yup. You caught me. I followed you home.”

“Shit. I just realized that’s probably not a joke I should be making in your line of work.”

“I was just thinking about you and wanted to make sure you were okay.”

“Lol Eddie! If I thought you were like that I wouldn’t have given you my number : ) “

“I’m alright though. Thank you for checking up on me.”

“Of course. I’ll leave you alone now so you can sleep.”

“I actually wasn’t going to go to sleep just yet.”

You paused for a moment debating on if you should tell him what you were going to do before bed. You were hoping if you did maybe he would talk to you like he did in his bedroom. Hearing him murmur his words and what he said got you wetter than anything else. You could still feel your slick sticking to your legs after you changed your clothes. Hell, it couldn’t hurt, right?

“I just got back from spending some time with this long haired rockstar with a huge cock who got me all hot and bothered so I was going to relieve some of this pressure here.”

You watched the dots on his end appear and disappear. The longer it took him the more nervous you got. Had you crossed a line?

“Don’t talk like that. Be upfront and honest. Talk to me like a big girl. What were you going to do before bed, Y/N?”

You could almost feel his stern eyes through the screen as you rubbed your thighs together.

“I was going to touch myself and think of you.”

His name suddenly popped up on your phone and you didn’t hesitate to answer the call.

“Hey Eddie.”

“Are you still wearing what you had on here?”

“No. I’m naked now.”

“Liar.”

“Eddie, I’m not—”

“Call me back when you’re ready to be a good girl.”

Your jaw dropped as he hung up and you huffed as you called him backed. “How dare you—”

“I don’t play games like that, little girl, and I hate liars. I figured since I got you all riled up and you are no longer on the clock maybe I could help you out. I also thought it would be fucking sexy to hear what you sound like when you cum. But if you want to cop an attitude with me, I can treat you how bratty little girls deserve to be treated. Now…what are you wearing?”

“I’m wearing an oversized t-shirt with my panties from earlier.”

He could hear your pout through the phone and it was making him hard all over again.

“Good. Good girl. Why didn’t you just tell me that in the first place?”

“I don’t know. I just… I always have to be SEXY; you know? God forbid I show any humanity.”

“Not with me, princess. I imagine you look just as sexy now as you did looking up at me with those big, beautiful eyes against my bedroom wall."

“Thank you, Mr. Munson.”

“Of course. Now tell me, baby. You said you were going to touch yourself and think of me. What about me?”

“I was thinking about the way your lips tasted when you kissed me…so good.”

“The cigarette taste didn’t bother you?”, he chuckled making you smile as one of your hands roamed up your shirt to touch your breast.

“No. Not at all.”, you giggle back, biting your bottom lip.

“That’s good. I’ve had some complaints.” You can hear him smile and your fingers run along your nipple as your exhale heavily. “What are you doing over there, honey?”

“I’m playing with my tits.”

“Mmm. You did have some perfect tits. Well, from what I saw under that tight ass tank top.”

That makes you genuinely laugh and his smile grows at the sound. “What else were you going to think about?”

Your hand slides under the waistband of your panties as your finger slides through your dripping folds.

“I was going to think about your thick cock against my palm and the way you rubbed against it.”

“Yeah? You’re going to imagine me doing that right now between those gorgeous legs? Grinding my dick against your pretty little pussy.”

“F-fuck, Eddie.” Your eyes rolled back as two of your fingers breached your entrance. “Please…keep talking to me…like that.”

“You like the way I talk to you? Was that something else you were going to think about? Picturing me whispering in your ear like I did when you were here?”

You didn’t know but he was leading you somewhere. There was one thing he wanted, needed to hear you say on your own. As soon as he heard it, he was yours and he would do anything to make you his.

“Yes, I liked hearing you say the things you said.”

Eddie could hear you touching yourself and your little moans were driving him crazy as he quickly pulled down his pants.

“Princess, is it ok if I touch myself to?”

“Yeah, baby. Of course. A-are you—mmm—still a bit sensitive?” The sound of him spitting in his hand had you clench tightly as you whimpered.

“Ah, no, baby girl. But with those sexy fucking whimpers and groans I’m not going to last long.”, he chuckled. “How many fingers are you using?” You barely heard him as you thumb began messaging your clit. “I asked you something, sweetheart. What did I say when you were here?”

“If-if—mmm—you ask…me…something I-I answer.”

“Good girl. Tell me how many fingers you’re using.”

“Fuck…two. Two, Daddy.”

Eddie practically growled with pleasure at the word that he had been praying would fall from your lips.

“Jesus, yes. Good fucking girl. I want you to use three. You…you have to prepare that pretty pussy for… Daddy’s big cock.”

As soon as you did as he asked, the English language completely escaped your mind.

“I…your…oh my…” He grunted in your ear reminding you of when he was pressed against you sending you toppling over the edge as you came hard. The sound was almost too much for him as he pictured your cunt spasming around him as you moaned his name just as you had. For the second time that night you made him cum as his spend shot out and hit his stomach.

“Are you ok?”, you mumbled, drunk off your orgasm.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’m alright. Are you?”

“I’ve never called anyone Daddy before.” You had no idea why you were being so honest with him. That wasn’t necessarily something he needed to know but for some reason you thought maybe the knowledge of that would make him feel special. You wanted him to feel good.

“What made you say it now?”

You scoot your body further into your bed as you curl up into your sheets.

“I feel safe with you. I know that sounds so weird. We barely even know each other but I do…”

You listened to the soothing sound of his breath into the phone as he absorbed what you were saying.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you earlier. I can be a bit of an asshole sometimes.”

“I can handle the asshole.” You smile when you hear him softly laugh.

“On Friday, we’re going to be spending some time at the recording studio. Do you want come by and listen to us play?”

“I would love to but I have to work Friday night.”

“How about you come by in the afternoon and then go to work? Are you…um…”

“No, side business Friday. I’ll just be dancing.”

“Ok, cool. Maybe when we’re done, I can meet up with you after.”

“Eddie…I like you a lot but are you sure you want to do this? I strip and I have sex for money. I’m not proud of it but I’m not ashamed of it either. I’m doing what I have to do right now.”

He was silent for a moment as he thought about what you were saying.

“Y/N, I’m not perfect. I’ve been arrested, gotten into fights with paparazzi, and like I said I can be a bit of an asshole. I like you a lot to but I understand that this is all new. You and I lead interesting lives. I’m not…going to harp on you and I’m not going to, I don’t know, offer to fucking save you or whatever other douchebags say.” You laugh making him smile. “But I would like to take care of you…physically, mentally, emotionally…financially.”

“I don’t know how to give up control like that.”

The way you say that makes him want to scoop you up in his arms and cradle you into his chest.

“Do you work tomorrow?”

“No, not tomorrow.”

“Can I come over so we can talk? We’re doing this stupid photoshoot thing but I can come over after and bring some food. Of course, only if you’re comfortable. That’s all that really matters to me, baby girl. I want you to be comfortable.”

You don’t know why but you believed him when he said it. What was it about this man that had you breaking all your normal rules? Not just rules with the business but in your life. You had been on your own for so long that you didn’t need nor want to become involved with someone. However, it would be nice to have someone take care of you for once…

“Okay, Daddy”

411 notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 7 months

Text

reach out, touch faith

In The Woods Somewhere | Chapter Three

Chapter Summary | Trusting Joel to take you to the place he calls home is difficult, but it's your only real choice now. It brings back memories of the last time you trusted someone enough to follow them, and look how that turned out?

Chapter Warnings | Canon-typical violence, mentions & allusions to child death, mentions of PTSD, descriptions of & allusions to cult activities, soft!Joel, protective!Joel, pining, strained parental relationships, no use of y/n, italics indicate a flashback scene.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader

Word Count | 3.3K

Authors Note | Thank you for being so patience in waiting for this next part. I've rekindled my love for this little series and I'm excited to show you more of what's coming with this little band of travellers. If you enjoyed then please consider leaving comments, reblogging or popping into my ask box with your thoughts! And if you enjoyed, please consider supporting me with a tip through my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that I no longer use taglists - please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on post notifications to know when I post new writing.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Joel doesn’t really know what to do. He’s never been the best at consoling people, especially people he doesn’t really know. What’s he supposed to do? The way you’ve flinched at him every time he’s tried to touch you suggests that trying to hug you is probably going to make things worse. He’s still reeling from the information you’ve just thrown at him, and it somehow makes the situation worse. He was yours. How the hell is he meant to make this better now? Sure, anyone’s child dying is the worst thing that can happen, pure innocence snuffed out and for what reason? But the fact that Edward was yours, your flesh and blood, it's so much worse. He can yet again feel his own panic rising as your sobs continue, tears streaming down your face, hands shaking. He simply doesn’t know what to do.

“Hey,” He says softly, shaking your knees with his hands, “Hey, just look at me for a second, okay?”

You don’t, you just stare blankly into the fire behind his shoulder as you cry, so he moves his head into your eyeline, searching your eyes with his own, “Hey, can I touch you?” He asks, realizing as soon as the words have left his mouth how bad that must sound, “Just let me hug you, okay?”

When you don’t move away from him or tell him otherwise, he moves forward a little, moving tentatively so as not to spook you. He gently moves one hand to rest at your head, pulling your wet, puffy face to the crook of his neck, his other arm moving around your back. He stays like that for as long as you need, palm running over your hair, the other still on your back to try and ground you. Soon, the racking sobs have stopped, you’re silent now. And then he feels your arms wrap around him. He’s too broad for your hands to meet around his back, but your hands rest behind him as you soothe yourself.

“I’m tired,” You mumble into the skin of his neck, breath ghosting against him, “I’m so fucking tired Joel.”

He thinks that you perhaps might not just mean tonight – thinks you might be tired of it all, and he understands, because for so long he was tired too. He chooses to work with the immediate though. He ignores the screaming of his knees and his back as he scoops you up, walking slowly to the room you’d claimed as your own, careful not to knock your head on the door frame as he walks in. When he sets you down gently onto the bed, you’re already mostly asleep. It’s cold in here, he thinks, so he peels back the covers and drapes them over your body, and then takes his jacket off for good measure and places it on top of the sheets.

He wants to turn and leave, leave you in peace, give your privacy, but if his experience is anything to go by, these nights will be the darkest. You’ll dream about it, over and over again, replay everything that went wrong, every other possible way this could have ended. You’ll wake up in a cold sweat, screaming, then struggle to get back to sleep. He doesn’t know what brought you here, but he sure as hell knows it isn’t good, thinks you’ve probably been living with fighting on your own for too long. So, he stays. He takes his boots off, props the pillows up against the headboard, and lies there, listening to the way you breathe in your sleep, keeping a lookout for any signs of distress. He sighs to himself, resigned to another night of no sleep.

Joel gives you two more days until he issues his ultimatum. Two days of trying to make it through the day without breaking in front of the children, and evenings where you do nothing but cry, sometimes into Joel’s shoulder, sometimes into your pillow. The children are outside playing in a moment without rain when he comes to stand next to you.

“I have to go back,” He speaks softly, because it’s true, you think, his community will be looking for him, “You don’t have to come, I don’t expect you to trust me enough to follow me yet, but I think it would be for the best.”

“How far is it?” You ask without looking at him.

“With them?” He nods his head to the children, “Three weeks.”

“And they’ll accept us?”

“Long as you do as I say when we get there, yes.”

“And you promise, if I catch a single whiff of something being off, I can leave?” You bite at the skin on the inside of your mouth until it bleeds, weighing up what following Joel actually means.

He holds his palms up in surrender, “You can go anytime.”

You take in a deep breath, worst comes to worst, you can always shoot him if he doesn’t stay true to his word. So you nod. You agree.

“We can leave tomorrow morning.”

You know, as soon as you step into the community behind this bastard of a man, that it’s been a trap all along. It’s nothing big, a few dilapidated lodges in a clearing – there isn’t even a wall, but as he leads you down the middle of the street, something feels off and it has everything to do with the people staring at you. It doesn’t matter how many pairs of eyes you have on you as you grip your gun by your side, they’re all women. Some older than others, but from what you can see, you’re the youngest by far, apart from the children.

They aren’t playing, they don’t seem like children as you remember them. Even in the QZ they’d still been able to run around, find moments of joy in the darkness. There are five that you can see, stood next to women who you think must be their mother’s. Silently staring at you, following you with their eyes as John leads you and your mother into the lodge at the end of the street.

He opens the door, waving you both inside, and you’re furious at the way your mother does as she’s told. You take too long for his liking to step over the threshold, so he takes hold of your shoulder and shoves you through the door, shutting it behind him and standing in front of it, your one exit blocked.

“Your possessions, if you please,” He speaks, sickly sweet, gesturing his hand for you and your mother to put your bags and weapons on the table in the middle of the room, “You’ll get them back soon enough, but we must make sure you don’t have anything dangerous.”

You feel like a deer caught in headlights as your mother does exactly as she’s told. Places her backpack on the table and takes the knife she has from her pocket and sets it next to the bag. John smiles at her, a horrible, toothy grin, which quickly fades when he looks to you.

“And you, little dove,” He croons, it makes you shiver, “You’re not going to cause trouble already, are you?”

You already know there isn’t a chance in hell of you getting your things back, but you do as he says anyway, setting your pack and your gun on the table, but keeping your hunting knife concealed in the waistband of your jeans under the flannel shirt you’re wearing. He seems satisfied - stupid man - you think, as he walks further into the room, opening a large chest.

When he stands, he’s holding white material in his hands, he offers one to your mother, who unravels it to reveal a white dress. He hands you a similar bundle of material, when unraveled it’s another white dress, slightly different in style and size to the one your mother is holding up against her body. What the fuck kind of place have you walked into?

“It will help you fit in,” He explains, “The rest of the folk here dress like this, so it’ll help show them you’re one of us now.”

Something inside you thinks that whatever the women here do, it’s not through choice of their own but you decide not to talk back, following closely behind your mother as John opens the door and leads you back outside and into another lodge down the street, if you could even call it a street.

He opens the door, inside is a woman who you think must be your mother’s age, a baby cradled in her arms which she is rocking back and forth. It’s making tiny, gurgling sounds as if it’s just been fed.

“This is Alice,” John introduces, “You’ll stay here with her, and she can help you get acquainted with the way we do things here,” Alice turns and nods her head at him, much like you imagined people would do when they met royalty, “Dinner will be at sundown.”

With the baby clutched to her, Alice silently motions for you both to follow her. She leads you up the stairs and opens one of the doors. Inside, it’s simple, two single beds, one chest of drawers but nothing much else.

“You sleep here,” She speaks, her voice quiet and meek, “And please change,” She motions to your dresses, “It’ll make things easier.”

She closes the door behind her, and you can hear her footsteps retreating down the stairs. Your mother is already stripping out of her normal clothes and draping the white dress over her body. It doesn’t fit her properly, it’s too big. The hemline ghosts at the ground, long sleeves taper in at her wrists. She looks fucking ridiculous, you think.

“You heard her,” She chastises, “Get changed.”

Oh, so now you want to pretend you’re in charge. You suck your teeth in frustration, but take off your shirt anyway, letting the white material slip over you. You keep your jeans on, more as a place to keep your knife concealed than anything else. You can’t help the smug feeling that fills you when you realise your dress fits you perfectly. You don’t look nearly as stupid as your mother does in hers. Yours is a different style. Still long enough to ghost the ground by your boots, but the neckline is cut differently, dipping down to show off the swell of your breasts, and your arms are shorter, cut off just below your shoulders. You don’t think you’d ever worn something like this in your life. If it weren’t for the situation, you find yourself in, you’d start to think you actually looked nice.

Your mother opts to head back downstairs – maybe thinking she can entice Alice into a conversation, but she’s silent. She just sits on the couch and rocks her baby, vacant expression in her eyes, ignores your mother when she asks questions. The only time she really moves is when there’s a faint sound of a ringing bell. She stands, places the baby in a crib set in the living room and just motions for you to follow her.

It's when you sit down that you realise quite how fucked you are. John sits at the head of the table, because of course he does, but just as you’d suspected, the only other people sat at the table are women, apart from some of the small children who are boys. All dressed in similar white dresses to you. All wearing a similar vacant expression as Alice was. There’s a door behind John that opens, and two women, both clearly pregnant, but one further along than the other, bring out pots full of what looks like stew when it’s spooned into the bowl in front of you.

You go to pick up the spoon and start eating, but the sound of someone clearing their throat pulls your attention to the end of the table. It’s John, and when you look down, every single one of the women is holding hands with those sat next to them. An old woman sat next to you, graying hair and wrinkled face, has her palm up, waiting for you to slip your hand in her own. You set the spoon down and give her your hand, then John speaks.

“To our most gracious Lord, we extend our thanks to you for keeping us safe in these troubled times and for providing us with a meal to sustain us, amen.”

There is a small murmur of ‘amens’ around the table and then everyone picks up their spoons and begins to eat, although you’ve truly lost your appetite. All you can think is how the fuck you’re going to get out of here.

The next morning, when you set off from the safety of the cabin, you realise just how slow you are as a group. When you’d first arrived at your cabin, just you and the children, it hadn’t felt like it had taken that long to find your place of safety, but maybe that’s because you’d still had that adrenaline running through you. Now, as you walk behind Joel, who always seems to be fast enough to be feet away from you, you realise just how long this trek through the woods is going to take.

The eldest two children walk by your side – you walk slowly enough that they can keep up with you, but after a few hours, you realise Isabel is who is going to slow you down the most, so you opt to pick her up and carry her on your hip. She’s almost too big for this, her weight making your arms ache, but for the sake of making this quicker, you suffer on, shifting her around every now and then as you follow Joel, eyes always trained on the back of his head.

You stop that night in a clearing. The air is cool and it’s the first time in a long time that the children have had nothing but the solid ground to sleep on, but they don’t seem to mind, settling underneath the jacket that Joel had shrugged off, using yours as a scrunched-up pillow. You’re sitting with your back against the trunk of a tree, knees pulled up to your chest, Joel is sitting in a similar manner across from you.

“I can help carry her.” He speaks softly across the clearing.

You shake your head with a resolute and stern “No.” Thrown in his direction.

He holds his hands up in surrender, “You gonna carry her the whole way?” He challenges, and the ache that’s settled in your arms tells you he’s right, you aren't, “I don’t know what you’re scared of but I’m not going to do anythin’ to her.”

It’s a question you don’t really know how to answer, because you think deep down that you know he won’t hurt her. He’s done nothing but protect you since he crashed into your life – he’s fed you, protected you, carried your dead son and buried him, he slept next to you, as far away as he could get, didn’t try and touch you without permission. Everything he’s done so far has proved he’s a good man. It could still be some kind of sick joke though, that he’s leading you somewhere bad, that he could pick Isabel up and run off with her, or hurt her.

“I get it,” He murmurs now, “I’m a random guy that’s turned up and caused a lot’a trouble, and I’m takin’ you somewhere new and that’s scary,” He exhales a big sigh, “But I promise I ain’t gonna hurt ya, I know somethin’ bad’s happened to you before,” He signal to his own neck where that horrible scar sits on you, “I know whatever happened to you, to these kids,” He nods to where they’re sleeping, “Must'a been bad, and I don’t know how anyone could hurt you.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I’m tryin’ to,” He defends, “I’m tryin’ to help you as well.”

“I’m not-” You shake your head, “Just been alone a long time, I’m not used to having to trust people.”

“It’s gonna take time,” He admits, his own mind flashing back to how long it took him to trust anyone in this new world, “And I’m not askin’ for it all at once, just let me help a little, alright?”

You’re silent, because you don’t really want to admit you need help. You’ve been fine on your own, with the children, for so long, and he’s wandered into your life and set off a chain of events you aren’t sure you’re actually going to recover from. You don’t need him, not really, is what you think as you focus your attention to the ground where the children are sleeping.

Joel takes the silence as conversation over. He won’t push you, he knows it’ll probably end in tears if he does, but the next morning, when you pack all your things away and get ready to move on, instead of hiking Isabel into your own arms, you gently push at her shoulders to get her to walk towards Joel.

“How about you hitch a ride with him this morning?” You ask softly, bent to her height.

Joel kneels too, trying to make himself look less intimidating to her, although he doesn’t think it really works from the way she tries to scurry back into your arms. He thinks about how Sarah was at her age, so unsure of the big people around her, scared of anyone that wasn’t him.

He stretches out one of his big hands to her, “Come on,” He coaxes gently, “You ever ridden first class on a pair of shoulders before?”

Isabel sucks on her thumb a little, but shakes her head to tell him no, “It’s the best thing,” Joel adds, “You’ll see everything from up here.”

That seems to do it, because with another nudge from you she’s walking over and putting her impossibly small hand into Joel’s. He doesn’t remember the last time he’d touched someone this small, apart from Tommy’s baby. He hauls her up with ease, settling her on his shoulders, just like he promised. He’s got hold of her legs to keep her steady as he starts walking, trying to dampen the lump in his throat and the tears that are springing to his eyes. It’s so familiar, the way the weight of her sat there feels. If he closes his eyes, he’s back in Austin, walking through the park with Sarah sat up there, pointing out birds and butterflies and trying to keep her steady when she squeals with excitement.

He's sure that this might be his undoing, he thinks as he walks slowly, accounting for the other children that are following behind, each one clasping one of your hands tightly. How has he allowed himself to care this quickly for you and the children that follow you? How has he managed to go so fucking soft already? He can’t explain it, the way your sweetness has sunk under his skin. He knows there’s something more to you, he’s going to try and coax it out of you if he possibly can, but he’s sure that whatever you might have to say to him, whatever it is you’re going to tell him that happened to you, is only going to make him more likely to protect you, to lay down everything to keep you safe, and it scares him. Where is the Joel he knows? The closed off, grumpy man who won’t let anyone in? Where is that man he knows like the back of his hand, and is too late to go and find him? He thinks it probably is when he hears the slight chuckle from the girl sat on his shoulders, who’s pointing her hand at the butterfly that floats past them in mid-air. He’s fucked, he thinks, and for once, he thinks he might just be okay with that.

251 notes · View notes

discordsmuse · 7 months

Text

Discordsmuse Masterlist

❀•°❀°•❀

Hello friends! Finally putting together a masterlist to make it easier for you guys to find all my fanfics here since I only post to AO3!

These will be organized by fandom and character.

❀•°❀°•❀

Baldur's Gate 3

Halsin

dance me to the end of love, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Halsin admit to their feelings post-Moonrise and fuck on a balcony.

Silence, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav and Halsin fuck in a closet

Do Unto Others, NSFW/18+ : Fem!Tav wants to give Halsin some attention and convinces him to let her be the giver for once.

Enver Gortash

body more than just a flesh, you can sell it for success, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is invited to dinner with the Archduke and things get a little heated.

i will give you all that you need, NSFW/18+: Sequel to the above, Fem!Tav and Gortash bathe together before Enver gets a little handsy.

gracious men are those who suffer, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Enver w/ a free use kink.

legacy with no memory, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Enver Gortash w/a pregnancy kink

I wanna know my god, At least enough to fear Her, NSFW/18+: Fem!Durge and Gortash have a lil bit of hate sex

Gale Dekarios

be my nightfire, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav catches Gale mid-alone time. Feelings and sex ensue.

Abdirak

sanctify you bedsheets with the sweat along your hips, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav is fascinated by Abdirak and nervously asks him to teach her about Loviatar.

Raphael

delightful little detour, NSFW/18+: Canon rewrite for what happens when Fem!Tav tells Raphael he's bad at sex.

Let the Dream Begin, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael Phantom of the Opera AU, slowburn

Office Hours, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav/Raphael College AU

Rolan

i wanna have a home, i wanna share it, NSFW/18+: Fem!Tav and Rolan get together post-saving the tieflings from moonrise.

❀•°❀°•❀

Pirates of the Caribbean

Hector Barbossa

The Pirate Lord, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader post-Elizabeth being kinged.

All That Glitters, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite pre-CotBP

Liar's Bet, NSFW/18+: Longform Barbossa/Reader canon rewrite during CotBP and DMC

feel the edges start to burn, NSFW/18+: Barbossa/Reader where reader is friends w/Carina

❀•°❀°•❀

Harry Potter

Severus Snape

isn't it lovely (all alone), NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader closet sex

no death in rebirth, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader longform amnesia oneshot

Brought to Life, NSFW/18+: Snape/Reader marauder's era classmates to lovers lol

❀•°❀°•❀

Dead by Daylight

Canon/Canon

Contention, NSFW/18+: Ace/Meg against a tree hatesex

Breaking Point, NSFW/18+: Megmillan first time

It's Alright, Teen/16+: The survivors and killers recover post-entity

Anna/The Huntress

Not so much taming as growing accustomed, Mature/16+, Huntress/Reader friendship to lovers

Herman Carter/The Doctor

Untethered, NSFW/18+, The Doctor/Reader where reader annoying him but in the fun, bratty way

❀•°❀°•❀

Resident Evil Village

Karl Heisenberg

Business Partners with Benefits, NSFW/18+: Heisenberg/Reader where reader is Moreau's niece

❀•°❀°•❀

Spider Man

Dr. Otto Octavius/Doc Ock

Working Overtime, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is his lab assistant

Bedside Manner, NSFW/18+: Otto/Reader where reader is Doc Ock's lover

❀•°❀°•❀

Labyrinth

Jareth the Goblin King

Midsummer, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader at the midsummer fae ball

don't leave me lonely, NSFW/18+: Jareth/Reader sequel to Midsummer

❀•°❀°•❀

The band Ghost

Papa Emeritus IV/Cardinal Copia

Better Than, NSFW/18+: Copia/Reader where he's a little insecure about Terzo being better than him

❀•°❀°•❀

Dracula

Dracula (lol)

Nice Costume, NSFW/18+: Dracula/Reader in a modern setting at a party

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Our Flag Means Death

Israel Hands

we do get desperate, now and again, Mature/16+: Fem!Reader/Izzy hurt/comfort unrequited love.

i wanna be yours, Mature/18+: Fem!Reader/Izzy first time together

❀•°❀°•❀

The Quarry (2022)

Travis Hackett/Laura Kearney

• fell in love with the fever, Explicit/18+: Travis and Laura are forced to spend some time together 6 months after the incident.

❀•°❀°•❀

This list will grow/change as I write more :D Thanks for reading!

225 notes · View notes

imagine-that-100 · 7 months

Text

Will We Talk? | Part 3 |

Description of Part 1: Alex Turner x Reader | Being Katie Cook’s best friend means you see a lot of a certain band, so it’s too bad that the lead singer can’t seem to stand being in your presence. You’re all too aware that you get chatty when you’re anxious, and despite being around each other for a decade, Alex still makes your heart race (and not in a good way). But then he asks a question you never expected to hear, and it changes everything: “Do I make you nervous?”

Word Count: 17.4k

Warnings: Smut

A/N: Well... It's been a minute. I can only apologise for how long this part has taken me to write but believe me this will be worth the wait because holy shit. Again a big thank you to @alovesreading and @kennedy-brooke for helping and listening to me complain about me having to write this chapter as I was getting more and more stuck (prepare yourself for me being the exact same with part 4&5 tho). Also a big thank you to @lottiecrabie for beta reading this and lottifying it for me, you're a genius. Thank you to everyone who has waited for this one, I wont keep you any longer, go enjoy it. Thanks a million for reading x

| My Masterlist |

| Part 1 | Part 2 |

Waking up beside Alex brought everything back to you and it hits you in the same way your hangover does your stomach. Sickeningly.

Repercussions of what it all could mean give you a worse headache than you already have. Your body aches more than it has in a very long while. It’s easy for you to tell that it's not just the lingering alcohol making your muscles seize, it’s all the cardio Alex was putting the both of you through a matter of hours ago.

So after lying in complete discomfort for 10 minutes, only focusing on the way your stomach is flipping and the steady breathing of the man on the other side of the bed, you get up. You head to the bathroom and you immediately go for a drink of water from the tap, followed quickly by using some toothpaste and some mouthwash to try and freshen yourself up.

After using his toilet, you don’t even feel any remorse about turning on his shower. Once it’s a decent temperature, you walk in. You can’t even deny that this might be the nicest shower of your life. You fully let the hot water relax your muscles and you don’t think twice about using Alex’s stuff.

You’re surprised the man actually has both shampoo and conditioner instead of a 2 in 1. After all, his hair is only just growing back and it’s still shorter than what it was back when they first got famous. You’re grateful regardless because it's good quality and it smells amazing, hints of eucalyptus with a smokey wood scent.

Taking your time washing your sore body down with his shower gel, you gently start to hum along to a tune that’s managed to stick in your head, and you’re glad the shower seems to rid you of your hangover symptoms.

You end up in your own little world, reminiscing about last night's activities as you wash your body. Every brush of your fingers, you can feel Alex’s touch. If you close your eyes you can picture it all over again and the ghost of the feelings he stirred up in you.

It’s like tingles are running through your bones. Just the memory alone throws you back into the moment, like you can feel him on you, inside you, his skin against yours, his lips on y-

“How are you feeling?” Alex’s voice startles you.

He walked in a few minutes ago after waking up needing to go to the toilet and he couldn’t hold it despite hearing the stream of the shower. He didn’t want to invade your privacy, but he knew the frosted glass that split the room would shield your body from him if you didn’t want him to see it. It would be silly after last night anyway. The image of you is seared into his retinas.

So after using the toilet and brushing his teeth, he turned to see that you still hadn’t noticed his presence. He can only glimpse at a blur of a figure behind the steamed glass, the temperature in the room getting increasingly hotter as the moments pass. He can’t help but want to see you again, which is why he decides to open his mouth.

You quickly whip yourself around and see him standing just near the end of the glass pane that divides the shower from the rest of the room. Alex’s gaze is on your face, staying respectful and not lingering down, even though he’d seen you a matter of hours ago.

Him startling you when you least expected has your heart racing, not to mention his actual presence. The fact he is still very naked in front of you makes your blood pound in your chest faster. Flashes of last night come back to you and it’s like you can feel him touching you again. Feel him kiss your skin again. Feel him insid-

Not the time Y/N. He asked you a question. Oh shit yeah.

“A little better after a shower, thanks.” You say once the shock of his presence dwindles a little. Unsurprisingly, you start to panic ramble, “Sorry for not asking, I should have- but I- I just didn’t want to wake you up.”

“It’s fine Y/N/N,” Alex brushes your apology off, and after a beat he asks, “Mind if I jump in?”

Trying not to let the anxiety show on your face as it creeps up your spine, you just nod and shrug, “Your shower.”

You were just about done anyway.

You enjoy the hot water for a second more before you mentally prepare to leave the warmth. Once you say a silent goodbye to the glorious shower, you turn and see Alex has just stepped in, heading for the water. You go to move past him, and trail off, “I’ll just let you…”

“You don’t have to leave.” Alex says as he catches your wrist, his thumb caressing your skin.

Your eyes go wide and you can feel yourself about to stutter as you start, “But I-”

Alex interrupts, “Stay.” He doesn’t want to give you time to overthink but he also won’t push you. Though he appears pleased when you gently nod. You let him guide you back to the water.

Although you’ve agreed, he can see there's still hesitance there and a hint of awkwardness that he wants gone quickly. In the best way he can, he addresses it directly and with a soft smile on his lips. “You know we fucked last night, right?” He holds his grin when he sees your eyes go wide, clearly not expecting him to say that.

But going through your head is, No shit! What a stupid fucking question! How the fuck could anyone forget a night like that?! Forget someone fucking you like that… What a fucking idiot to even ask.

As it turns out, your thoughts are a little hasty, because Alex’s gentle tone continues as he lathers himself up in shower gel, saying, “You don’t need to feel awkward. I’ve already seen you.”

Before you even know it your worries spill from your lips, “When we were drunk and we lost all inhibitions and I don’t know if you were blackout drunk or not, I don’t know if-”

“I still remember.” Alex interrupts you, looking into your eyes and he takes your hand again and moves you back under the shower with him.

While that in itself makes you feel a little easier, the fact that you don’t know where to look makes your mind spin. It feels uncouth to look down, especially considering you haven’t seen him look down either. But like he just said, you saw each other last night and it shouldn’t be awkward.

Christ, you weren’t built for the stresses of one night stands. Or friends (if you can even call him that) with benefits, or whatever the fuck this is.

“You’re still gorgeous,” Alex assures you, “Please don’t overthink, just stay.”

You gently nod again, trying to just not think about the fact that you're standing naked beside a man you barely know. Instead you close your eyes and enjoy the water again, blocking out the man washing his body beside you and you let your body relax as you tilt your head up towards the huge shower head and let it rain over you.

Having a shower was always relaxing for you, a brief escape from the hectic days you tend to have and if shit goes wrong, a shower can most of the time fix the mood the day has put you in. It’s your safe space to decompress: you just let yourself calm down again, and enjoy the way the hot water makes you relax.

Alex doesn’t notice what you’re doing straight away, not until he turns to start washing his hair and he sees you standing beside him looking all stoic. Suddenly, he can’t take his eyes off you.

You look so at peace, as if all your worries and overthinking had been washed away by the water you’re both standing under. You look gorgeous with the way the various lights in the room are hitting your skin, almost making you glow in the warm lighting.

It’s almost like he's watching in slow motion, how he watches the water trickle down your pretty features. Bouncing from your eyelashes and running down your cheeks until it reaches your lips that still look plump from your activities last night. Alex feels the urge to kiss you again, but he manages to resist. He’s only just got you calm, the last thing he wants it to unnerve you.

Little does Alex know that he already sort of is. Not through any fault of his own as you can’t expect to be in the shower with someone and for them to pay no attention to you, but you can feel his eyes on you. Not in a creepy way in the slightest, but you can feel his gaze and the awkwardness is threatening to bubble back up your spine.

Trying your best to suppress it, you take another few deep breaths and roll your head and your shoulders a few times to encourage your muscles to loosen up again. You really hate not knowing where you stand with him, but suddenly your mouth that likes to nervously chat away can’t even open. The last thing you want to do now is annoy him and for him to tell you to leave and it makes things messier than they are already bound to be with Katie and Jamie.

Oh lord, how the fuck am I meant to tell Katie? She’s going to disown me. Jamie will never be able to look at me again. I’ll never be Forrest’s favourite auntie again when I inevitably can’t see him anymore. I- No, stop over thinking. Stop. It.

Alex can practically see you cogs spinning in your head again so he gently encourages you to get out of your head and hopes you start chatting to him again. He’s never been in your presence and you’ve been so silent. The last thing he wants is for you to overthink something as simple as a shower.

“Are you still feeling okay?” The singer can’t help but ask as softly as he can so he doesn’t make you jump by interrupting your quiet moment.

“I-” You clear your throat, “Yeah, I’m okay thank you.”

“Sure?” Alex questions, wanting to keep your brain as clear as possible,

You nod, smiling a little at the endearing way he double checked. Who is this man and what has he done with the Alex Turner you’ve been used to for the past decade?

“How are you feeling?” You ask, wanting to reciprocate the manners he’s showing you.

“Good thanks,” He nods and smiles at you, “Little headache but we both drank a lot so it makes sense.” You try not to watch the way the water runs down his neck and his chest as he talks to you, “Was good in that club though. I enjoyed it.”

“Yeah it was good.” You agree, trying to keep your eyes on his but failing every now and again, “No one bothered you either so I guess that was a little better for you too. Makes a night easier I suppose... Did you have a fun night with Jamie?”

“I had more fun with you.” Alex smirks a little, not missing the way your eyes have begun to wonder slightly. He’s still sincere when he asks, “Did you have fun?”

You know that he’s not talking about your night out anymore, he’s talking about your night with him and you’d be a liar if you didn’t answer, “Yeah.” You flush, asking him shyly, “Did you?”

“Most definitely.” Alex hums. His focus is solely on you now. He takes a step closer to you, as even he can feel the tension from last night stir back up between you. He watches your reactions closely and when he sees his proximity doesn’t alarm you, he lowers his voice a little to ask one more question, his finger coming to trace your jaw as he does, “Do you regret it?”

You shake your head, keeping your eyes on his. You’re not letting your nerves get the better of you. “No.”

“Good.” Alex smiles and his hand moves from tracing your jaw to your neck where he cups it again. Before you can really comprehend it, his lips dip down and take yours in a kiss.

It’s not a simple kiss. There’s heavy meaning behind it, spinning in the back of your dizzy head, seeping through your panting breaths, gripping his rough hand as it caresses your cheek, flexed and clenched like he’s holding back doing more.

It’s a losing battle. As soon as a moan spills from your hot mouth, Alex grips your waist and pulls you flush against him. Your chests rise and fall in sync, and there’s something even more meaningful knocking at the back of your head. It feels dangerous, like another border you’re crossing without even looking back. At least you know now it wasn’t just the amarettos on rocks making his kisses feel like your stomach might flip.

You reach up, one hand finding his nape, the other digging into his wet hair. There’s a sense of you trapping him, wrapping him in a deadly trap he, thankfully Alex, doesn’t seem to want to even try escaping. Instead, he moves the both of you back under the stream of water so you don’t get cold, as though that was possible with your temperature rising with every artful swipe of his tongue. His hand practically burns at your waist, strong and present and callused, and soon you’ll need an ice bath just to recover from him.

Alex steals every breath from your mouth and you give them to him without a second thought. It’s pathetically quickly that you can feel yourself getting wet, and not just from the stream of water pouring on you. It’s everything. His mouth, his tongue, his hands; from the way he’s touching you now to the way you can still remember him fucking you yesterday, like a permanent branding iron on your body that burns, burns, burns. Your heart races in your chest. You’ve never felt more alive.

Alex snakes a hand around your back, firmly holding you against him like you’re his prized possession, like he fears losing you down the showerdrain if he doesn’t trap you in his arms. He gets needy whimpers out of you, muffled by his eager tongue. You pull away when his hand falls to your arse and squeezes tightly, moaning into the hot, heavy air, into his open mouth that’s fucking smirking.

Cocky, he runs his gentle hand down your cheek, butterfly kisses across your jaw, to settle on your neck. His dark eyes dig into yours as he squeezes, ready to catch every microreaction. You release a pretty soft sound for him, whining. His hand’s heavy and meaningful around your throat, hanging from it like he owns you.

It only makes you more desperate for him. Needing to get your claws into something, you pull harshly on his wet hair. He groans, mouth hanging open in pleasure, and you use that to your full advantage to catch his mouth again.

Alex is hard against you; the knowledge that it’s you causing this reaction in him boosts your confidence tenfold. Enough to make you want to drop to your knees for him here and now. You’re pretty certain the singer wouldn’t mind.

The idea transforms into a need, soaking your thighs further. Eager, you let your hand run down his wet chest, sweet and worshipping, making him shiver against you. You drop it to his cock, just two light fingers touching his length, teasing him. He pulls away from your lips, moaning. His face looks down to the beginning show in wonder. You smirk. No, he wouldn’t mind at all. Slowly, you wrap around him. “Fuck,” he mutters.

The noises you pull from him have you pressing your thighs together. Noises that you wish you could record and play on loop when he’s not there to help you; pretty, pornographic moans that vibrate against your cheek. You fall into his neck to kiss and nip and lick at, letting his sounds bloom into your ear. His hips jump into your fist, making you that more determined to continue stroking him, wanting and needing him to unravel, to be entirely at your mercy.

But you know your mouth is ten times better than your hand, so you climb back up to his lips, leaving a quick, hot kiss, then biting his lower one. You tug and release, smirking at his hitched breath. There's a moment then where you both look at each other, lust the only thing in either of your eyes, and it’s as though the steaming water runs cold compared to the heat between your greedy bodies.

There's a fraction of a second where everything changes. Time slows for it to happen. Still, your brain can’t keep up. Just as your eyes fall and you back away to allow your knees to sink and hit the tiles below, Alex grabs you by your hair with both hands, bringing you back up and pulling you into another kiss.

It’s hard and hungry, and it takes you enough by surprise that you stumble back, unsteady on your feet. Alex follows, greedily allowing himself an extra second of the torrid kiss before he spins you around and pushes you up against the glass. The bitter coldness of the glass against your scorching skin makes you gasp, a rush of pleasure spreading down your spine. You can feel Alex’s smirk as he presses himself against your back.

His arm snakes around your waist as his lips find home where your shoulder meets the base of your neck. Your thin necklace does nothing to stop his mouth attacking the skin there, biting, then soothing it away with his tongue. His fingers trail down between your thighs. With a moan, your head falls to the glass, cool against your skin. You throb for him.

His fingers brush your clit, making you gasp and whine for him before he dips his fingers down further to feel just how wet he’s made you. He can’t help but smirk against your ear, as if he’s not already almost completely hard against your arse. Gathering a pool of your arousal, he finds your bundle of nerves again, gently rubbing it.

Slow teases on your clit make your head fall back on his shoulder and you can’t help but moan. You clutch his wrist with one hand in a silent beg not to stop. Sweet whines of pleasure escape your lips, filling the hot room with more than just the stream from the shower.

Without fully realising, Alex finds himself rocking his aching cock against you, causing your body to shift. Dragging your nipples across the cold glass heightens your senses more than ever. You’ve never dealt with such different intensities of temperature before, never known such staggering opposites could make your body melt and drip with euphoria.

“This what you want, sweet?” You can feel Alex’s hot breath against your ear, “Want me to make you feel good again?”

Your moans are answer enough for him, but it delights him how he has you begging, “Please.”

“Good girl.” He smirks, nipping the skin just behind your ear before he adds more pressure to your clit.

Your hand blindly reaches to grasp something, but the cool glass beneath your palms doesn’t help at all. It slides off the glass, entirely unable to catch any resistance with the way the scolding water is still raining down on the both of you.

Alex could get used to this. The way you’re filling up his bathroom with those pretty sounds that keep falling from your lips, making it very obvious that you’re enjoying everything he’s doing to you. He fucking loves how vocal you are, he loves the fact that you can’t keep those swollen lips of yours shut for him, and he revels in the fact he’s the one bringing you so much pleasure.

“Alex,” You whine out after a minute of him concentrating on your swollen clit, circling and circling until your legs shake under you.

He kisses his way up your neck as he huskily asks, “Yeah?” He focuses back on the makings of a bruise he left there in the early hours of the morning, proud and possessive at the sight of it.

“More.” You just about get out.

You can’t really think of what else other than more. You need more.

The way you can feel just how hard he is against your arse and how his hips keep grinding into your own is making you clench around nothing, begging and pleading to be filled. It feels criminal to be this empty at this point. You’re aching to be fucked by him again.

“You’re greedy, sweet,” he tsks as he kisses his way down your neck. You push your hips against his, rolling them, hoping for something. He’s unflappable, pressing you back up against the glass as he asks, “Can’t be happy with what I'm giving you? You want more?” You nod furiously, mind too hazy to hear the danger in his tone. “Little pet thinks she knows better than me?”

“Please,” You whine, high-pitched and breathy.

It seems you’ve fallen right into his trap. Alex bites down on your shoulder, pain and pleasure blooming inside of you. The dominance, the power, the possessiveness has you clenching around nothing again. With the way your lower stomach knots and tightens and coils, you know your orgasm is building steadily. You just need more.

You bite your lip raw trying to hold back cries, but he tuts in your ear, dragging it out of your teeth. “None of that, sweet. I want to hear you.” As though to give you motivation, he pinches your clit meanly.

“Oh fuck, Alex!” You gasp. He smiles against your cheek, rewards you with tight circles on your bud again. He has you mindlessly begging now, “Please, please. Alex.”

“What is it you need, then?” Your mouth hangs open, incapable of forming thoughts and sentences when euphoria drowns you like this. Alex helpfully provides, “You need my fingers, is that it?” His hot breath sends goosebumps over your skin. He knows you like the way he teases you in these situations after last night's dalliance. He hums against your ear, “Whining and panting like a brat, I wonder if they’ll shut you up?”

Without another second of torment, the singer drops his hand until he can dip two fingers inside you. With how slick he’s made you, they slip in easily, stretching and filling you up. You cry out a, “Yes!” You’re shaking between his arms, so close and ready you might burst into tears if he doesn’t give you what you need.

When they finally sink fully inside, you have to abandon your useless attempts to hold the glass in front of you. Instead, you reach back and root your fingers into Alex’s hair.

You wish it was longer again so you had more to pull on, but your hold on him is enough to ground you to the moment, to him. Finally, he thrusts in and out of you, quick and deep like you need it. It’s shocking to feel how much he knows you, has memorised that dark night to the very last detail. And here you thought he wouldn’t even remember.

He curls his fingers and electricity zaps through you. He easily finds the sweet spot inside you and hits it with every slide, sopping sounds filling the room as he stretches you open. You’re trembling, gripping his hair so tight you might unroot them. Your brain is too gone to worry about hurting him, drunk on the taste of him and pleasure.

“This what you wanted?” Alex asks, and all he’s met with is incoherent whines from you and a slack, furious nod. There’s an edge to his voice when he breathes,“Well, then. Aren’t you gonna say thank you?”

“Thank you, Alex,” You immediately scream, too scared he’ll pull his fingers away, too addicted to bother arguing. “Thankyouthankyouthankyou.”

“What a good fucking girl, sweet.” You preen under his words. His hand caresses your hair, cooing, “So obedient, so fucking pretty.” He seems to itch to reward you for it when he asks, “Think you can take more?” Of course, you nod, wanting to be good for him and knowing you can handle whatever he has in mind for you.

You don’t think you’ve ever released such a loud moan like the one that falls from your lips when he slips another finger. You’re stretched out, so full with three of his fingers inside of you. He’s fucking you open, determined and ruthless, pumping out all the sweet, fucked-out moans from you. Your cunt throbs around him, pleasure swooping low in your belly. God, you hope he never stops. This is everything you want and more. With every swipe of his digits, you feel yourself grow closer and closer

“Taking it so well, sweet,” He breathes, choked from his own want. You grin at him, proud. “Doing so good for me, letting me fuck you like this. My favourite, little slut.” You clench around him at the name. He smirks, biting your cheek as he promises, “I got you.”

You know he does, can feel it in the way he curls and fucks, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. Your lungs feel aflame, burning up in your chest. Your mind is languid from the ecstasy, melting and swirling in your skull. You can’t remember your own name, only his.

��Are you close?” Alex teases, because he doesn’t need a response to know. “Christ, you’re practically squeezing my fingers to death.” You moan, your head falling on his shoulder, your hand holding him the tightest you ever have.

Though he’s a little shit about it, Alex makes sure he does everything he can to give you your mindblowing orgasm. He cups your cunt, his palm hitting your clit. You have no shame, rutting against it, chasing that fatal end like it was your one true purpose.

“Gonna cum for me like a good girl?” He breathes, looking down at the way your glistening body is reacting to him, chest rising and falling rapidly. He moves a hand to your tits, playing with the peaked nipples. Every sensation sends you a hit of true euphoria until you can’t tell where your body burns.

He pinches your nipple and you whine pathetically. You’re so drunk on pleasure, you feel delirious, barely even able to get your words out. “Please, Al,” is all you seem to know.

“Yeah?” You can feel his smile against your neck. “Good. Cum on my fingers then, sweet. Show me what a whore you really are.” And when he bites your neck again, sheer desire just to make you feel him everywhere, you lose yourself.

“Alex,” You cry out, and all of a sudden the pleasure is blinding, “Oh, fuck!”

Your orgasm scorches your body in an overwhelming wave that buzzes to your bones. The singer works you through it, sickly sweet whispers of praise in your ear that intensify your pleasure tenfold. Alex has to practically stop himself from cumming as he feels you clenching around his fingers, along with the sharp tug on his hair as you clutch him tighter.

“That's it,” he whispers as you come back down from your staggering high. Before he slips his fingers out of you, he praises, “Good girl. Did so well for me, sweet. My best girl.”

Finally, he slides three soaked fingers out of you. The sudden feeling of emptiness has you feeling needy, and the haze of your orgasm lingering makes you dazed and unsteady on your feet. Thankfully, Alex has you tight in his grasp and he maintains that as you slowly turn towards him.

You can’t even be angry at the shit eating grin on his face, you feel too cockdrunk to even care. He can let it feed his ego all he likes, in this moment you would do absolutely anything for him.

So much so that you pull him in for a messy kiss, clashing teeth and swiping tongue. You’re still trembling slightly, from the orgasm and the intensity and the fact that it’s him. You press your body against his, feeling his hard cock against your belly. You moan. You need to rectify that right now. You pull away with the intent to drop to your knees again, but Alex’s hands holding your jaw clench, keeping you in place again, knowing exactly what you were planning.

Instead he shakes his head, “No.”

You don’t understand why he won’t let you, especially when you want to make him feel good. So you demand the only other thing that you can think of. “Take me to bed.”

But, again, Alex shakes his head. “We don't have to.”

He searches your eyes for some give, not wanting to make you do anything. He doesn’t care about his own release; he’s going to cum fast anyway with the show you just put on for him. He doesn’t need you to do anything for him, he just wanted to watch you unwind at his touch again.

“I don't believe I was asking,” You persist, looking at him sternly enough that you hope he doesn’t turn you down again.

You want to make him feel good. You want him to cum as hard as you just have and you want to be the reason for it, the cause of his pleasure. You want it to be your doing.

Thankfully whatever was stopping Alex from letting you sink to your knees for him, he seems to get over. “You want me buried deep inside you, sweet?” He coos, holding you impossibly close, looking at you like he can peer into your soul and pull out the most sinful parts of you, “Wanna cum again? Around my cock this time?”

It’s like there’s nothing else processing in your head other than the promise of him being inside you again. And, Christ, you do wanna cum around his cock, practically a need. Still, you whine, admitting, “Wanna make you feel good, too.”

Alex believes you. You’re holding him so tightly and looking at him with those big eyes that are practically begging to let you do something for him. He smiles, rubbing the stress behind your jaw. “Okay, sweet. Whatever you want.”

Alex turns the stream of water off and pulls you from the shower by grabbing your hand to keep you close. Before you leave the bathroom, he plucks you from the ground and into his arms. You squeak, but he mutes that with a kiss.

When he gets the both of you back into his bedroom, the cool air is a striking contrast to the heat that radiates from both of your bodies thanks to the steaming shower. Somehow, it adds to everything, heightens every sense and every touch Alex stimulates you with.

Before you get used to Alex’s kisses or being in his arms, you’re thrown down on his bed, bouncing on the mattress. It should be embarrassing how much that turns you on, the sheer strength he threw you with, but you can’t bring yourself to care when you open your eyes to see him standing at the foot of the bed, looking at you like he wants to devour you.

You lay across the bed for him, wet and pretty and ready, and his mouth waters. He knocks your knees apart to catch another glimpse of your glistening cunt. The cool air hitting you makes you gasp, but it’s music to Alex’s ears. All he wants is to lick and suck your swollen clit again, to dip his tongue back inside you, and have you mewling beneath him as he fucks you with it.

But, of course, he likes to make a show of it. He can’t give you everything you desire at the drop of a hat. He likes to edge the both of you in that way. Instead, Alex takes his time to crawl up the bed between your thighs, getting acquainted and bruising the soft skin at the top of your legs.

He can’t get enough of hearing you whining and moaning and the way you keep lifting your hips in search of relief faster. He just grasps them tightly and forces them back down on his mattress. Alex, not being strong enough to abstain from another taste of you, licks a bold stripe up from your entrance to your clit, eliciting a guttural moan from you as your hand flies to his wet hair. You tug on it, putty in his hands, as he starts devouring your already sensitive cunt.

He’s licking and fucking into you, chin wet with your juices, you get a grip of his hair and tug him off you, desperately crying, “Too much.” You’re far too over sensitive after what happened in the shower. Another minute of him doing that and you would be cumming on his tongue again.

“Yeah?” He pouts at you, though you doubt there’s any real empathy in him. He’s far too pleased. “Can’t handle me eating you? Already too fucking fucked-out to survive it?” You nod, like you can’t hear the condescending tone in his voice. “What if I want a taste? You wouldn’t deny me that, would you?”

Your lungs are burning. You might melt into his sheets if he doesn’t do something now. “Please, Alex.”

“What is it, sweet? Use your words.” He pinches your thigh, making you look down at him.

The visual of him between your thighs all wet from the shower and now with your slick on his lips and chin has you clenching around nothing. You beg him, “Need you.” and that makes the singer smirk as he starts crawling up your body, but not before leaving one last kiss on your clit.

Those sinful lips of his trail kisses up your stomach and he makes sure to pay close attention to your breasts as he asks you, “Need me to fuck you dumb?”

You swear you almost choke on your own tongue when he kisses up from your tits to your neck and you hear him say, “Have the only thing you can think about is how I fill you up? How good I fuck you? Make sure you can’t remember anything but my name?”

Murmurs of pleases come from you then, but for all you know you could be entirely incoherent as you just revel in the way Alex’s body presses against yours. Still, you must make somewhat sense, because he lines himself up and finally, finally, fills you with his cock again.

“Fucking hell, sweet,” Alex can’t help but groan as he bottoms out, “Oh, shit.”

It takes everything in him not to cum there and then. But he won’t, he can’t, he has to make you cum first. With the way you look so cockdrunk beneath him, he doesn’t think that your release is too far away either.

Alex fucks you slow and hard first, making you feel every thrust of his cock as it buries inside of you over and over. Every drag of your nipples across his chest as he fucks into you. Every suck and nip and kiss on your neck, which he’s already abused more in the last 12 hours than your ex-husband ever did. Every single sensation is a perfect cocktail for a brain-wiping orgasm. You feel pleasure threatening the edges of you already.

He grunts each time he fucks into you, but it’s nothing compared to how loud you’re being for him. You’ve given up on holding back all the moans and screams, letting them fall down your chin and into his ears. He drinks them greedily, revelling in every way his name can come out of your mouth.

His head flips to the other side, hand wrapping around your neck to tilt it and give him better access. While he kisses and licks at your collarbone, his fingers press into your throat. You gasp, a rush of pleasure striking through your body. Your body tingles, mouth hanging open.

“You’re so fucking dirty for me,” he whipsers in your neck, then releases it. Oxygen rushes through you and adrenaline runs through your veins, doubling the ecstasy swimming through you. Your head feels hazy.

Your skin is on fire. Both of your bodies are damp with a mix of the water from the shower and the new shine of sweat, but the contrast with the cool air and the way your chests are pressed together makes everything more intense.

Your legs lock around his waist and your heels press into his lower back, needing him as close as possible. The feeling of him so deep inside you is everything you needed. You feel so full, so satisfied. You just need the split, the snap, the break.

“Alex!” He can’t help but fuck you faster, hitting your spot with every thrust. You can’t get used to the furious pace, digging your nails into his shoulders and scratching out your boiling pleasure.

When you moan his name again, he can’t stop himself from teasing you, “So loud, sweet. Think I need to gag you, can’t stop that mouth of yours running.” You clench around him and he looks up at you gleefully. “Oh, you’d like that? Like being gagged and bound for me? Can’t move or talk as I get you off over, and over, and over, until you’re too dumb to even think?” Your cunt throbs and he laughs, so fucking pleased. “What a perfect, little slut.”

With the way you scratch at his back, and pull his hair that your fingers are routed into, he assumes you enjoy his foul talking. “Just for me, right?” He fucks you harder and faster, punctuating his words and gripping your throat tighter as he grunts, “So loud, and All. For. Me.”

Just like that, he has you cumming around him again.

It's almost difficult for Alex to continue ploughing his hips into your own with how tight your cunt is gripping him, throbbing and clenching in waves that you don’t even notice because a white heat has taken over your body.

You feel like you’re vibrating with the way the knot in your lower stomach snapped and you feel the wave of bliss tingle through your blood. It’s ecstasy at its finest, lighting you up and making you feel all gooey and dizzy and happy.

Alex wishes he could continue fucking you, wanting desperately to fill you up with his cum, you haven’t discussed anything like that yet, and he didn’t put a condom on. It’s with massive reluctance that he pulls out of you and gets to his knees. He fucks his fist, arm flexed and strong, ready to cum on your stomach.

But again, you surprise the singer. Despite still being dazed, you push yourself up and before he can make himself finish, you stop him, grabbing his wrist to get his attention. When his eyes lock with yours, you tell him, teasing and filthy, “In my mouth.”

With a grunt, he scoops up to your chest, kneeling above you, hard cock over your head. You raise your head up to wrap your lips around him, smirking. Your mouth is warm and wet, enough to make him see stars. He knows there's no chance he will last. You suckle on his tip, before clutching the back of his thighs harder, pulling him closer and further into your mouth.

You hollow your cheeks and make it messy for him, all spit and tongue and just focusing on him. But it lasts no more than twenty seconds because as soon as you take him down your throat maybe a grand total of five times, Alex shoots hot cum into your mouth and groans above you as he clenches a fistful of your hair.

You swallow around him, making Alex choke out a gasp which has you smirking. Pulling off him, you make a show of it, head falling back into the sheets as you let him see what’s left of him in your mouth, before you swallow again.

Alex's fingers are still rooted in your wet hair, and you look so pretty gazing up at him through your eyelashes, still all drunk on everything he’s given you. Christ, he would give you everything he has and more if he could have you like this all the time.

“You’re filthy,” Alex grins down, entirely dazed and intoxicated with pleasure. “Where the fuck have you been, sweet?”

~*~*~*~ One Day Later ~*~*~*~

“I’ll call you later today.”

Famous last words.

Because he has in fact not called you.

Something which has made you question everything ever since he dropped you off about an hour after he came in your mouth on Sunday morning. The rest of Sunday was spent recovering, and today at work you’d been stressed, getting in your head about all the love bites that you had to hide, worrying over the fact you’ve yet to tell your best friend you’ve fucked one of her friends.

Frankly, the consequences of your decision to go home with Alex were making you feel sick, worsened by the fact he has yet to call you. That’s why as soon as you finished work, you texted Katie asking if she was down for a wine night. Thankfully, she replied agreeing with a smiley face and wine emojis.

That is how you’ve found yourself sitting in Katie’s lounge, chatting away to her, slowly putting off the inevitable.

You’ve already been here two hours. It’s 8pm and you’ve had more than enough wine to make your lips a little loose. You decide now is the time.

You take a deep breath before you commit to telling her. “Katie.” She hums in response as she takes a sip of her wine, focused on the label of the red bottle.

Here goes nothing.

“You’re going to hate me.” You let it sit in the air for a second. It falls heavily from your chest.

“I certainly doubt that.” She chuckles, but discards the bottle still, looking at you. She raises her eyebrows, prompting you to continue. “What’s up?”

Taking a deep breath, you ask, “You know the other night we went out?”

“Yeah?” She nods, smiling at the memory of the fun night the both of you had.

“I…” You elongate the word slightly before finally saying it out loud, “Had sex...”

“Oh yeah?” Katie smirks, before leaning over to clink her glass of wine with yours, “So did I, check us out.” Clearly she remembers nothing about how you got home because she asks, “Who was your lucky fella?”

“Alex.” You drop the bomb before pressing your lips together.

“Stop.” Katie’s eyes go wide, letting her glass clink and swoosh on the table as she sits up. She leans closer to you and looks into your eyes, asking, “Are you fucking messing with me?”

Shaking your head, you moan, “I wish I was.” You feel your cheeks go hot when you pull down on your hoodie to reveal one of the huge bruises the singer left on you, “This cheap mark would not be here right now if I was messing about.”

Katie’s jaw drops at the sight. The mark on your neck is so much darker than the rest of your skin tone, and if you didn’t have your hoodie on there was no way anyone would miss it. It’s fucking huge.

You think you’ve fucked your friendship as soon as the gasp leaves Katie’s mouth. When she starts laughing, you should be reassured that she’s okay with everything, but it unsettles you more, the sound entirely manic. A laugh that screams that she believes you’re playing the biggest practical joke on her of all time.

In all honesty, it just shocked Katie to her soul. She can’t actually believe that you, the chatterbox that is her best friend, has shagged the grumpy rockstar singer that has never once uttered a word to her or Jamie about liking you in that way. She can see it though, she can imagine it was hot, but she is still so very shocked it’s difficult to stop the out of control laughter reaction.

All you can do is rub your eyes for a second in an attempt to hide your face. After a few seconds, you rest your hands on your burning cheeks and gently drag them down as you ask in a pained voice, “Katie, have I made a huge mistake?”

“You’ve shagged Alex.” Your best friend's tone sounds entirely shocked with too much excitement still there to even answer your question. She has to say it out loud again, this time even louder, to even process it, “I can’t believe you shagged Alex!” But before you can even shush her, she turns and looks towards the stairs, yelling, “Jamie!”

“Katie! What the fuck, stop!” Your eyes go wide and you pray that Jamie’s selective hearing has come into play because you don’t want him here right now. You beg her, your hand even going out to hold her arm, “Please, I'm being serious. I'm freaking out.”

“What are you freaking out about?” She still looks gagged, but now the excitement creeps in and she giggles, “This is brilliant.”

“How is this brilliant?” You ask, feeling your head whirring with every thought under the sun. You state the obvious, “It’s Alex.”

He’s one of her husband’s best friends. One of her close friends. You’re sure that this must cross some sort of unspoken friendship boundary.

“Right?” She looks at you as if you’ve grown another head, clearly not understanding at all as to why you think this is an issue. “You’re surely not worried about me and Jamie having an issue with this, right?”

You think she’s losing it because of course that is a reason you’re freaking out. “Well, that is a part of my worry, yes.”

“Well, don't, because I'm buzzing for you.” Katie assures you, and she can practically see the way you let yourself take a breath.

She wants to scorn you for being so worried about her reaction. It didn’t really matter if they were okay with it. As long as you and Alex were consenting adults and you were both happy with what was happening, then they wouldn’t stand in your way. But she can see your nervousness is deeper than just her blessing.

So your best friend asks, “What else are you worried about?”

“A lot of things.” You tell her as you press your lips against the rim of your wine glass.

“Like what?” She asks, entirely calm again until her eyes go wide when she realises she needs to know more information, “Wait, how serious is this? Or is this a one time thing?”

If only you got a phone call, maybe you’d know. But alas.

So you just start from the beginning, “When he came to my house, he asked me if I was nervous around him because I wanted to fuck him. And when I stumbled on an answer he kept talking about it and we kissed. And t-”

“Wait,” Katie’s jaw drops again and she almost shouts, “You kissed before we even got out?!”

“Yeah,” You nod, trying not to think about the singer's lips on your own as you continue to ramble on, “And then I blurted out that I don’t do one night stands and he said he never said he wanted one. And then I said I’ve never done a friends with benefits thing. And then he kept flirting and teasing me all night and then the next thing I know, he’s going down on me on the stupid fucking orange settee in his lounge.”

Hearing that, your best friend desperately tries and ultimately fails to keep herself together. She wants to scream from the rooftops, but she can see your hand is over your mouth like you’re afraid to open it again. She's never seen you internally cringe so much since the first person you slept with after your divorce years ago.

She’s trying to be the best friend she can to you, but ultimately she needs all the facts before she can give you her verdict, so she doesn’t really hesitate to ask, “How many times did he make you-”

“Five. I came five times.” You say through your fingers, as if you can’t believe it yourself.

“Fuck off!” Katie gasps and slaps your arm. You’re in the middle of saying ‘ow’ as she shouts, “Five times! You’re joking?!”

“No.” You shake your head, rubbing the spot she hit.

“Christ,” Your best friend looks at you a little jaw dropped again before she seems to regain some clarity when she tells you, “Hun, you are winning.”

“Yeah, well,” You mumble, shaking your head and taking a long sip of your wine, “That remains to be seen.”

“What do you mean?!” She hits you again then, and you frown at her as she groans, “I fucking wish-“

“Don’t,” you interrupt, holding your finger up, “You and Jamie have it very good! Don’t say-“

“Hun.” She deadpans, “We have a three year old child, do you think we have time for a session like that?”

“It wasn’t- He didn-“ You stumble on your words, feeling your cheeks get hot again and your heart start thudding embarrassingly fast as you explain in a whisper, “Some of it was the morning after.”

You can’t look at your best friend when you say that. Instead, you swirl your wine around your glass like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. It’s lucky you do though, because your best friend just about manages to pick up her jaw from the ground.

She starts grinning. “I can't wait to ask you every question under the sun about him now. I’ve not had the courage to fully ask the others. You’re my open book.” She chuckles, leaning forward to grab the bottle of wine from the coffee table before going to tip more into your glass, “Here, have some more wine.”

“Katie no, no.” You push the wine away from you, putting it down, your anxiety peeking at her finding this so funny when you’re about to have a meltdown. “This really isn't funny. Not today.” Only when you hide your face into your hands again does she realise you’re really on the verge of having a meltdown. You mumble, “I’m going to spiral and die.”

Katie decides to be serious for a second and comfort you. This has clearly been plaguing you and she can tell that you need her to forget that she knows him for a minute to help you work out what to do.

“Okay, then tell me, what are you so scared of?” Your best friend asks, looking at you sincerely when she says, “This could be so good for you, Y/N/N.”

It would be easier to ask what I’m not scared of, you think.

But you tell her the thoughts running through your mind, “I’m scared I'll be wasting my time. I’m scared he’s going to get bored of me. And I'm scared that I've not felt that good or that comfortable with anyone that quickly in a long time… Christ, we had barely had a full conversation before the other day and now look at me.” You gesture to your neck as you carry on, “Massive fucking lovebite on my neck that I can’t cover up for shit and-”

“Breathe, oh my god, take a minute.” Katie stops you before you can continue any further. Christ, you’ve really wound yourself up this time, so she promises you, “You’re okay. It's okay.”

“Is it though?” You inquire, “Because he said he was going to call and he hasn’t and I’m not sure I want him to because I feel like, I dont know, what the fuck- “

“Hun, listen to me, calm down.” Your best friend stops you from falling down the rabbit hole by grabbing your hand and giving it a firm squeeze as she again promises you, “You’re fine, this is fine. You’ve just tried before you buyed and that can’t hurt. Like if he was shit you could bin him off, but now you know you’re at least going to have exciting sex.”

“But is that enough?” You can’t help but wonder out loud, “I don’t even know if we’ve got anything in common, Kate.”

You’re not stupid. You know this thing doesn’t mean you’re in a relationship, but you can’t see yourself sleeping with someone for a long time if the only thing you have in common is liking to make each other climax. Christ, it’s too stressful, you’re really not cut out for this.

“You have lots in common,” She assures you, and she smiles a little as she admits, “I’m surprised that this hasn’t happened sooner if I’m honest.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You have to ask for your own peace of mind, “What if I make it awkward with Jamie and then you-”

“Y/N. Stop.” Your best friend interrupts, not letting you continue, “No spiralling allowed. Just let yourself enjoy it. God knows you deserve it.”

That, you can’t really disagree with. You’ve not been with anyone for a long while. You certainly deserve to have some fun, and considering she doesn’t seem to be fussed that the person you're having fun with is Alex, you guess that you’re willing to continue whatever this is if he wants to.

“But he didn’t call,” you say, and your voice breaks at the end.

Katie gives you a look. You don’t like that there’s a hint of pity in it. “I’m sure there’s a reason,” she assures you, then she thinks to ask the obvious question, “Did you give him your number?”

You blink at her. “Well, no,” You admit. You flush, looking away in embarrassment. “He said he’d call me like he already had my number. I just thought you or Jamie might have given it to him way before now. My number’s been the same for years.”

Katie can’t contain her small chuckle hearing that, “You’re stressed about this and you didn't even give him your number, Y/N.”

You smile hearing how it sounds, but stress, “He said it like he had it already, Kate.”

“I just think that you’re best not to stress out until you know for a fact he has your number. I haven’t given it to him before, I don’t know if Jamie has.” Your best friend smiles at you before picking up your wine again to give it to you. “Can ask Jamie if he has though. Jamie!”

Your stomach drops again at the thought of Alex possibly already having told Jamie and still no phone call from you. It worsens when you hear Jamie start coming down the stairs and Katie turns to you quickly and asks, “Please can I tell him?”

You start to bargain, “You can see if he knows but don't just outrig-“

“Okay deal,” Katie interrupts excitedly before shouting, “Jamie, come here.”

You both see him walk leisurely down the stairs and when he makes it to the hall, Katie waves him over, “J.” When he turns around and walks in, you see he’s on the phone.

“Yes if you still really want to. Kid is in bed so do not ring the doorbell. Right, bye.” The guitarist says before putting the phone down and back into his pocket as he gives Katie wide eyes and asks, “What darling, I’m trying to put your child to bed.”

Ignoring the ‘your’, Katie asks, “Jamie, did you know that Alex and Y/N shagged the other night?”

“Katie!” You shout, not believing she just told him like that.

“You’re joking!” Jamie’s eyes go wide in shock and he immediately looks from Katie to you asking, “Did you actually?!”

Katie teases and answers for you, “Yes, she did.” You want to curl up in a ball of embarrassment and die.

“Stop,” You close your eyes for a second, so you can ignore the smug look both the Cooks are giving you. “I’m fucking mortified.”

Regaining his ability to function properly after a shock like that, Jamie shakes his head and thinks out loud, “That makes so much sense now.”

You’re thankful Katie asks, “What does?”

“He’s been asking after you all weekend.” Jamie grins looking at you. “I was wondering why he was asking for your number.”

“Did you give it him?” Your best friend asks expectantly, needing to know to answer your earlier question.

And all is revealed when the guitarist admits, “Well, no.”

You breathe a little easier at the same time Katie scolds and slaps her husbands arm, yelling, “What the fuck Jamie, why?!”

“How was I meant to know they’d already fucked, Katie. Christ, that hurt.” He rubs his arm and backs away from the settee. “I didn’t think you’d want Alex trying to shag your best mate.”

The blonde shakes her head, “She’s been panicking all weekend because he’s not called her.”

“Wait, is this like a friends with b-” Jamie starts to question but his wife interrupts.

Thankfully she answers for you, a lot harsher than you would have probably gone, but at least you don’t have to comment after she tells him, “She would know what they were if you gave him her phone number, you moron.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t know.” The guitarist apologises sincerely.

You assure him, “It’s okay, J,” before finishing what's left in your wine glass.

It wasn’t like he was meant to know. And you’re very grateful that Alex hadn’t already told him. But your best friend isn’t so forgiving.

“No it’s not.” Katie frowns at her husband, “You should have given it to him straight away. You know they’d be good together, we’ve talked about it before!”

“Three fucking years ago, Kate.” He reminds her, before once again apologising to you, “Sorry, Y/N.”

But after hearing that, it’s your turn to be jaw dropped, “What?”

Katie sighs, clearly hoping to never have to tell you this but she admits, “I was going to set you up with him before he got with Taylor, but then he went back to LA and next thing we knew he had a girlfriend.”

The mention of Taylor and the memory of what happened there cracks open a whole other can of worries in your head, but thankfully you don’t have to deal with that today. You keep that buried as you hear the Cook’s front door open and a familiar voice rings out into their house, “Hello.”

Your eyes go wide as you ask, “Is that?”

“Alex, yes.” Your nightmare is confirmed by Jamie as tells you and his wife, “He’s calling round for his guitar that he left the other day.”

You try and hide yourself back into the settee, mumbling, “Fuck my life.”

“Sounds like he did.” Katie smirks, which makes Jamie laugh. You want to die.

But unfortunately, you can’t call her out on it because Alex walks into the room. Of course, he looks fucking drool worthy and he’s not even trying, jeans, white top, and a mustard cardigan. His hair still at that awkward unruly length where he couldn’t yet style it so he just let it be and god you hate him for looking so good.

He’s smiling when he comes into the room clearly pleased to see his friends but when his eyes drop to you, there’s a certain look in his eye that has your skin erupting in goosebumps. A knowing look that for a brief moment, everything that happened over the weekend floods back to the forefront of both of your minds.

As you’re silently seething at him for looking like a wet dream come to life, your best friend gets up with a big grin on her face and she hugs the singer quickly.

“Hey, youuu.” She draws out in a way that is so telling, you want the earth to swallow you whole.

Never in your life did you think Katie Cook would be so fucking shit at being subtle. But apparently when it's best friends involved, subtlety doesn’t exist.

“Katie.” Alex smiles at her, clearly realising why she was being so over the top. Regardless, he hugs her back before releasing her, and then his eyes land on you and he nods a silent hello and smiles, “Y/N.”

Your smile back at him, and it's clear for everyone to see that you’re a little embarrassed, but that's no surprise when gossip is in the air. If ever they thought you would be a little more reserved, it was certainly in a situation like this.

“I’ll get you another glass of wine, Y/N.” Katie comes back towards you, which is a little ridiculous considering your glass is quite full from the hearty pour she gave you earlier. Still, she grabs it, then nods at Alex. “I’m assuming you’re driving, Al, so I’ll make you a brew.”

He nods and smiles, “Thanks love.” Katie grins back, before turning towards her husband.

“Jamie,” she demands, “Kitchen now.”

The guitarist isn’t one to go against his wife, so he stands up without a word and follows her into the kitchen. As soon as the door is closed, Alex looks down at you and states, “So… You told Katie then.”

Please God let the earth swallow me whole right this very second. Please… Please… Please… Fucking dick.

“Couldn’t really keep it from her,” You shrug, defending yourself. After all, it’s entirely your decision who you tell or not. You can feel yourself get all hot and bothered at the subtle mention of it, “She’s my best friend and you work with her husband so I-”

“Don’t look so panicked,” Alex says as he takes the seat next to yours. He tells you, “It’s okay. It’s not a secret.”

As he passes by, you get hit with the now familiar scent of eucalyptus and it throws you right back to being in the shower, him pressing you up against the glass with his fingers inside of you. It hits you all at once making it difficult to think but ultimately you know you have to carry on and not give into what you can only describe as war flashbacks.

You’re about to carry on, “I-” But Alex cuts you off;

“I’m sorry I didn’t call you,” He tells you sincerely. He looks into your eyes as he softly admits, “I’ve been trying to get your number off Jamie for the last two days and he was being a stubborn piece of shit.”

“It’s okay…” You find yourself relaxing as you tell him, “I think he’s about to be ripped a new arsehole for that, so no need for you to go in on him.”

Alex snorts at that, expecting nothing less from Mrs Cook’s wrath. As his laughter subsides though, he takes his phone from his pocket and holds it out to you, “Can I get your number then, please?”

You’re almost shocked for a second, but instead of letting that show, you nod, “Yeah.” You take it from him.

He lets you navigate your way around the phone until you’re typing the numbers into a new contact. It takes you less than 30 seconds to create your contact, save it and hand it back to him, but he surprises you when he then taps a button and puts the phone to his ear.

Clearly, you know it’s your phone that’s about to ring, so you raise your eyebrows and ask, “Did you think I’d give you a fake one?”

It’s no surprise at all that your phone starts buzzing away on the coffee table where you put it down earlier. You don’t even make an attempt to get it, you just watch as Alex smiles almost victoriously and tells you, “Just making sure.”

Both of you share a smile then, but unfortunately, it only lasts a minute because the married couple comes back in with your drinks. Katie is still grinning like she's just won the lottery when she sees the two of you beside each other, “Took my seat, did you, Al?”

“Sorry,” He apologises and goes to stand up, “I can-”

“No, no,” Katie stops him, instead she heading to sit on the other side of the settee, “Stay sat next to your l-

“Do not finish that sentence,” you interrupt, but it’s too late.

She trails off singing, “Loverrr.”

Never before have you wished you could die but it looks like now's the time. Fucks sake.

Alex presses his lips together, finding this a little too funny even though he shouldn’t. He doesn’t mind her taking the piss a little. It wasn’t like he ever told her he was interested in her best friend before, so he guesses this is to be expected. It’s something he needs to take on the chin. Your reaction however, he finds hilarious.

“I hate you,” You frown, rightfully demanding, “Give me my wine.” Your hand reaches out expectantly.

And thank Christ she’s poured you a large glass, because you definitely need it. As soon as it’s in your hand, you take a long sip of it, needing it as a coping mechanism at this point.

You don’t care if they are all looking at you, you just need the wine. Who would have ever thought this would be a Monday night? You’re certainly going to regret this tomorrow, but you can’t bring yourself to care at this moment.

“So…” Katie trails off, still grinning. She's now sitting beside Jamie on the other side of the corner settee, so you can’t even kick her.

Alex repeats, “So…”

But you're still looking at your best friend and you hate the way she’s smiling like the Cheshire Cat. You warn her, “Stop grinning, you’re making me so uncomfortable.”

“But there’s much to smile about.” She teases, looking at you and Alex and getting even more excited.

“Stop it.” You tell her, reaching across and managing to slightly kick her shin. She fakes a gasp as the lads laugh.

“Who knew you were so feisty.”

Jamie smirks, adding to the jokes because he can’t help himself, “Alex might have some insight on that now.” Alex takes a sip of his brew that his mate previously handed him so he doesn’t give away any reaction to that.

You don’t have quite the same reaction. Instead, you threaten him, “Imma ram your guitar up your arse if you don’t close your mouth.”

Katie sees her opportunity to joke and takes it without a second thought, “Ooo, kinky.”

It makes Jamie laugh and Alex can’t hold his chuckle. You just end up closing your eyes, wishing they would just give you a break. This time, you choose not to respond to it, instead taking another long sip of your wine.

The next five minutes are filled with subtle hints that you don't rise to, and thankfully a normal conversation ends up seeping back in. You don’t nearly speak up as often as you usually would. Although that could be down to the wine, you know it’s because you’re biting your tongue so you don’t accidentally get more jokes thrown your way.

You’re happy slowly drinking your wine and people watching how the three of them play into their dynamic. It's clear they have been friends for so long, and it’s really endearing to see how comfortable they are together. It makes you all the more glad to have Katie in your life, someone who makes you feel so at ease and gently pushes your boundaries from time to time, but it ultimately makes you closer.

You're so lost in your thoughts that you don’t really pay much attention to the conversation at all. In fact, you couldn’t tell any of them what it was about, but you didn’t exactly mind until Katie realises you’ve been mostly silent for a while now and she can’t help but tease you again.

“Nothing to add, Y/N/N?” Your best friend asks you, and when you tune back in and realise you’ve got no clue what they are on about, you just press your lips together and gently shake your head. You would hope it’d get you off the hook for not listening, but you’re not so lucky.

Instead it makes Katie’s smile grow, and she has the opportunity to lightheartedly tease again, “Cat got your tongue? Or is your throat sore?”

It takes everything in you not to spontaneously combust, because you’re sure you could with how hot your cheeks immediately go. You make sure you avoid all eye contact with Alex so you can get your response out, “Ride on that, slut.” You accompany it with your middle finger.

“Come on, lighten up.” She laughs, “Jesus, who knew you could be this quiet with enough wine?” Your best friend jokes, and your lips tug up into a smile when she continues, “Is this a miracle?”

Jamie knows his wife is just trying to include you in the conversation again, so he chips in on the joke and adds, “Should I check if pigs are flying outside?”

“Nice to finally get a word in.” Alex chuckles in jest, looking from you with a smile and back to Katie and Jamie who are already giggling too.

His comment feels like a bullet to the chest though and the smile instantly falls from your face. It makes you remember him telling you to be quiet in bed with him, and again now. It makes you want to curl up into a ball and disappear. It's not your fault you’re a chatty person or if you nervously ramble, it makes you feel so insecure and that’s not how you want to feel on top of everything tonight.

You release a short sigh and mumble under your breath, “Like you ever talked to me before you wanted to fuck me.” You take a sip of your wine and focus on the happy couple across from you.

In your peripherals, you see the singer's head snap back to look at you, but you pay him no attention after that comment. You still just want to disappear into the settee though, especially after that comment.

Thankfully the Cook’s have continued on with their little jokes and have paid you no attention. Jamie turns back from looking out of the window and tells you like it’s breaking news, “No flying pigs, must mean you’re okay?”

“Mmm,” You hum, taking another sip of your wine like you believe that’s the only reason you’re well. Playing up to it, you ask, “What was the topic of conversation?”

Now, when Katie sees an opportunity, she rarely doesn’t take it. So you’ve pretty much lined it up for her when she lies and says, “We were discussing if mirror sex, choking, or dirty talk is most advantageous to encourage a woman to climax? Care to share your view?”

And with that, you’re gone.

“Right.” You down your wine then, feeling your cheeks go uncharted hot in embarrassment, and you stand up in protest, announcing, “I’m walking home.”

Looking at the clock you see it’s almost 10 anyway and you have to be up early for work, so it’s best you head out of this mad house sooner rather than later. And it will give you a break from having fun poked at you.

Katie starts manically laughing at that, and Jamie chuckles. Alex does too, but he can’t help but offer, “I’ll drive you.”

“It’s fine,” you brush him off, not needing the extra awkwardness that a journey home with him would entail. That, and you don’t want to be a burden to him. “I can walk.”

“I literally drive past your house.” Alex turns to you. He insists, “I’ll drive you.”

“Okay,” you give in, knowing you’ll feel safer and it’s fucking freezing out. “Thank you.”

He smiles at you then and you just about smile back, before you turn and go to get your coat

“Ever the gentleman, Alexander.” Katie smiles and just as you're about to leave the room, she stops you and stands up, “Y/N, a word please.”

You suppress your sigh, abandoning your mission to get your coat and get out to head into the kitchen with your best friend. As soon as the door is closed, you wish you never bothered though.

“What are you wearing under here?” Katie grins, spinning you around so she can get her hands on the bottom of your hoodie. She tries to lift it up as she asks, “Do you need to change into something sexy real quick?”

“I’m not shagging him tonight, Katie.” You say seriously, but you can’t stop laughing as you pull your hoodie back down, “Stop.”

“Come onnnnn.” She whines, but giggles again when she starts trying to get at you again.

“Katie,” You warn her again, pushing her off you and you can’t help but laugh and yell, “Jamie! Get your wife off me!”

Thankfully, your hero Jamie Cook comes to your rescue and when he’s in the room she lets you go. As you make your way out, you briefly brush past Alex who’s heading into the kitchen with the empty mugs he and Jamie had.

You look at the ground, not daring to look at him after the shite your best friend has just been spouting. You head towards the front door with Jamie in tow behind you. Once the mugs are in the sink, Alex is about to head back towards the lounge to grab his jacket, but Katie gets his attention instead.

“Al, despite what you’ve just seen me do, don’t tease her.” Katie tells him quietly, being serious for a second when she says, “She doesn’t like to be teased.”

He raises his eyebrows and tells your best friend, “I beg to differ.” You definitely like to be teased, both verbally and physically.

Katie has to mute the laugh that she wants to let out, because she needs to be serious when she tells him, “In this setting, dipshit. Don’t tease her. Don’t make her overthink it.”

“She’s overthinking what?” He frowns a little, not understanding what you could be worried about when everything was out in the open and it wasn’t a secret.

“Nothing yet.” Katie doesn’t spill all your secrets. She thinks it's best to let you settle for a while now after knowing it wasn’t on purpose that he didn’t call. But she needs Alex to know, “But if you tease her, she will. Be gentle.”

Alex has to press his lips together for a second to try not to smile, because he knows all too well you don’t like it gentle either. He tells your best friend, “You’re making it difficult not to make jokes.”

“Just give her an easy time of it. I can get away with stuff, but she still doesn’t know you or your humour very well.” She raises her eyebrows when she says, “And you certainly don’t know hers.”

Alex begs to differ though, “I think we’re quite similar, are we not?”

“That’s something you should be finding out for yourself.” She pats his cheek a few times, and she grins when she says, “You picked a gooden, darling, you just got to not fuck whatever it is up.” But all of that means nothing without the threat of, “Or you’ll have me to answer to.”

And Christ if that isn’t warning enough, Alex doesn’t know what is.

~*~*~*~

“You’re being weird.” Alex finally says.

You’ve been alone in the car with him for two long awkwardly silent minutes. Looking out of the passenger window like the roads were the most interesting thing in the world in effort to not have to communicate with the singer.

This time you’re singing a Sam Fender song in your head to bypass the time, trying and failing not to feel disgustingly awkward around him. But you can feel the tension in the air. You can feel the way his eyes keep lingering on you, the way he wants to initiate a conversation but is waiting for you to. Good luck to him. After that comment earlier, you certainly won’t be doing that.

Clearly he feels the atmosphere between you as well. The ‘you’re being weird’ was entirely unprompted considering you’re just sitting in his car, rubbing your hands slightly in your lap because of the cold.

“No, I’m not.” You glance at him a little shocked he even said anything.

“You are,” Alex tells you, glancing at you and when his eyes find yours, you can see they are knowing ones. After you look away from him, he asks, “Do you regret it?”

“No, I-” You pause before deciding to be entirely honest, but it makes your cheeks hot when you admit, “I really don’t.”

It makes Alex very happy hearing that, but it doesn’t explain your behaviour, so he presses on, “Then why are you being quiet?”

“Because I don’t want to annoy you.” You say quietly, still not really wanting to look at him again.

“You don’t annoy me, Y/N.” Alex assures you as he looks over at you again before turning the corner at the junction.

You frown at that, your head snapping back to look at him when you begin to argue, “But you said-”

“I was joking, sweet,” Alex interrupts, not wanting you to feel uncomfortable around him at all. He manages to look at you as he says with a cheeky smile, “It’s endearing when you run your mouth, even more so when you can't keep quiet in bed.”

The mention of it has your body flashing with heat. You have to stop yourself from shuddering at the thought. You warn him, looking away embarrassed, “Not helping.”

Alex laughs a little at that, but he wants you to open up with him, so he asks again in a chirpy tone, “What’s up? Come on, tell me.”

“I just- I’m in my head about it a bit.” Trying to explain as best you can, you continue, “Thought I’d really fucked things between me and Katie when you didn’t call… And I know it’s not your fault, I should have just given you my number, but the way you said it made it sound like you already had it. I was panicking thinking I can never be in same room as you and t-” You catch yourself, hearing how you must sound so you stop and sigh, “I'm rambling again.”

“It’s cute.” Alex smiles almost wishing he wasn’t driving so he could study your reactions.

“It’s not cute,” You shake your head, smiling a little when you admit, “I was ready to bin your albums.”

Alex’s jaw drops hearing that, and he sees you already looking at him when he asks, “You were going to bin my music?”

You nod, confirming it’s the truth, “Puppets albums, too. Maybe even Miles’ from the association.”

“Terrible.” He chuckles, unable to stop smiling as he turns the corner onto your road.

Thankfully after that, the last 30 seconds of the journey to yours is a silent but comfortable one. You’re a little surprised he remembers your house number as he pulls up exactly outside it, but as you’re taking your seatbelt off and Alex pulls the handbrake up, there’s an expectant air between you where you both clearly want to say what’s whirring around your minds.

You’re silently talking yourself up. Just do it, Y/N. Ask him. Ask what he wants. Ask if he wants you again. Tell him your conditions. Come on, do it. Don’t be a pussy and do it.

Do. It.

Before you scare yourself out of saying it, you blurt out, “Do you want to fuck me again?” But at the same time Alex asks, “Can I take you out?”

Alex answers you before you can even really process what he asked, “Yes.”

“Well you’re not going to until you get to know me better.” You give your ultimatum, “I need to feel comfortable around you so if you want this,” You gesture between the two of you, “To continue for a while, we need to get to know each other.”

You don’t want it to seem like you’re asking for a relationship out of him, because you’re really not. All you want is to not act so awkwardly around him all the time. You don’t want to be the nervous rambling girl he fucked once upon a time, you want to be entirely yourself. You want him to know you properly. Experience you at your very best.

“So I’ll ask again,” Alex smiles, not having an issue with your proposal at all, “Can I take you out?”

You grin back, trying to ignore the way he’s looking at you makes you want to melt. You agree, “Yeah, when and where?”

“Tomorrow night?” Alex suggests, “Could just come to mine and we can talk? Start off small and go from there?”

“I think we’d both just fuck again if we did that.” You say honestly, “Need to go out somewhere to start with.”

You just know you’d cave if he started teasing you again. You feel all gooey at the thought of it now, and it’s not like you don’t want him to touch you again, but you need to set that boundary for yourself. And you’re thankful Alex seems to be willing to work with you. But not without making your squirm somehow.

“Is it the worst thing if we fucked again?” Alex grins, and it’s a cheeky one. A smile that makes your heart race.

“No,” You admit, “But I’d like to feel comfortable enough around you to not be nervous all the time.”

Alex nods understanding entirely. He didn’t really expect you to be okay with just fucking him and then leaving it until the next time. He knew some work would have to be done in between and getting to know you really isn’t a hardship for him. That would be trying to let himself open up to you.

“Okay well, what about the cinema?” Alex thinks out loud.

“I’m not one to not watch a film so if you’re suggesting that so we can just get off with each other in the back like teenagers in American films, that won’t work for you either.” You prewarn him.

“Believe it or not, Y/N,” the singer starts, incapable of not grinning. Of course you would think he’d try to start something in a cinema. He assures you, “I really like watching films, so I’d be sharing popcorn with you and that’s about it.”

You smile, liking the sound of that, but curiosity gets the better of you, “Sweet or salted?”

“Salted.” Alex tells you.

And that makes you gasp. No one else you know likes salted popcorn. You’re always forced to eat sweet all the time when you’re out with your friends or family.

“Thank god someone else likes salted popcorn!” You say rather excitedly, already practically tasting it on your tongue. It makes you all the more excited for tomorrow now.

It makes Alex all the more enamoured by you. And he can’t help but think it's rather funny that you seem very excited by the thought of salted popcorn when he now associates you with sweet.

“When do you want to go?” Alex inquires.

You think about it for a second before you realise it doesn’t matter too much, “I finish work at half four, so anytime after five.”

Alex nods, knowing that works for him completely fine. It’s not that he has any work to do considering he’s not due back out on tour until way into the new year. He can work around you entirely, and he hopes that you can make the most of each other's company until then.

But then he realises he doesn’t know maybe one of the most obvious things he should know about you. He asks curiously, “Where do you work?”

“At the high school that’s like ten minutes away.” You tell him and you can see the surprise fill his features.

“You’re a teacher?” Alex asks with clearly shocked eyes, and when you nod, he looks even more shocked, following up with, “What do you teach?”

You shake your head, finding this a little too funny. He knows how to make you cum but he doesn’t know what you teach. This is so backwards it’s difficult not to laugh, “This is why I need you to get to know me.”

“You’re letting me take you out on a school night,” Alex realises, sarcastically adding, “Scandalous.”

“Shut up.” You playfully roll your eyes, before you tell him off in true teacher fashion, “And I’m not impressed with you anyway.”

The singer smiles, “Why, sweet?”

Trying not to get all flushed at the nickname, you scorn him, “You gave me a massive fucking love bite on my neck, and now I’ve got to wear a fucking scarf whilst I’m teaching.”

Alex chuckles, but he stops himself to say a quick, “Sorry.”

“No, you’re not.” You narrow your eyes.

“You’re right,” He lets his smile shine straight through now, admitting, “I’m not.”

You tut at that, still trying to be serious when you truthfully tell him, “I had to go out and buy turtlenecks earlier.”

“It’s the weather for it at least.” Alex smiles, not finding a bone in his body that makes him regret ever leaving a mark on you. He would make them all again given the chance. “I’m sure no one would notice”

“In what world.” You ask, moving the collar of your hoodie so he can see the mark he gave you.

And Alex’s lips tingle and his dick twitches at the sight of it. It’s so prominent on your skin, easy for anyone to see that someone had claimed you as their own in the heat of the moment. He doesn’t blame you for covering it, but Christ he wants to make more of them.

Despite him seeing how bad his mark is, he plays it off like you could have gotten away with it, “I’m sure the kids wouldn’t have noticed.”

“I teach sixth formers.” You tell him, “They definitely would have and they’d have called me out on it, too.”

“Oh dear.” Alex chuckles, and he promises you with a playful smirk, “Scouts honour I’ll leave one you can hide next time.”

“One track mind.” You chuckle and shake your head before opening the door and getting out of the car, “Good night, Alex.”

“Wait a second.” Alex laughs, winding his window down so he can catch your attention again.

“What?” You ask as you step onto the pavement and lean down so you can continue to speak to him.

“You never told me what you teach.” Alex says as you lower yourself to his height again.

You smile at the fact he even wanted to know. But you don’t hesitate to tell him, “I teach economics.”

“That’s interesting.” Alex hums, his gaze subtly falling to your lips with you being back in such close proximity to him.

You hum in agreement, “It is.” knowing what he’s doing but choosing not to pursue that right now.

When his brown eyes look back up and meet your pretty ones, Alex smiles when you say, “Thanks for the lift.”

“Anytime.” The singer grins, “Night, Y/N/N.”

You smile and maybe it’s liquid courage that makes you lean in to kiss his cheek, but you don’t regret it for a second, “Night, tax evader. See you tomorrow.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Over the past fortnight, you and Alex saw each other a handful of times. Two of which you were out with your friends and three times it was just you and him. The first was the cinema like you agreed on which went very well.

The two of you stopped at a nearby restaurant to get some food before the showing where you found out a fair amount about each other. Thankfully, nothing put you off him in the slightest and with the way you were both quietly giggling and chatting at the comedic moments the film had and still after it finished when he drove you home, you like to think that he had a good time with you as well.

Nothing happened that night, nor did it on Friday night when he took you out again. This time it was a stand up open mic night he took you to and it was a lot of fun. Again, you felt a lot more comfortable with him, so many less awkward moments than there were when he first picked you up earlier in the week.

Alex couldn’t help but find your nervous rambling endearing though, but with them you always had something interesting to say which sparked up more conversation between you. The singer kept making mental notes of your likes and dislikes and you found that you got on incredibly well and you had a lot in common, just like he previously guessed you would.

Saturday night followed and per tradition, you and Katie had your wine night at hers, this time joined by Kelly and Kirsten. Yes, you were teased quite a bit by them when they found out, but thankfully when the boys came back from their night at the pub slightly earlier than expected, you weren’t teased when they joined you.

Instead, the alcohol had loosened your lips and you were very engaged in the conversations going on. There were brief moments when you lost yourself though and they were down to Alex.

You would catch him looking at you, and the looks were nowhere near friendly like he would glance at the other girls. There was something behind them and he made that clear with the way his eyes would fall to your tits or to your lips. Subtle clearly wasn’t his forte when he was horny and tipsy.

All of that just increased the sexual tension between you though, which you guess couldn’t hurt if you were to eventually use each other again. Something that as the days went on, you silently prayed for.

Wednesday ended up being a random night out for you all. It was Kelly’s night with the kids and she invited the Cooks out to go bowling after school, something which you and Alex ended up being invited to so you could fill up the extra spots they were paying for.

It turned out to be a good game, the kids enjoying themselves which was the most important thing, but it was also fun because you and Alex had a little competition going. When Alex guttered his second ball and he caught you snorting at his mistake, you ended up playing to try and beat no one else but him.

It was fun, the way you could feel his eyes on you as you threw the ball. And when you’d turn back after each shot, whether it was a good one or not, he would always be looking at you with a smirk. You think he liked that you gave him pretty much all of your attention, but you didn’t even try to hide how happy it makes you in the moment.

Unfortunately, you ended up losing your little rivalry by a measly 5 points. Alex acted like it’s a 50 points defeat, rubbing it in. You poked his side which made him jump to try and teach him a lesson, but it just made him chuckle. He threw his arm over your shoulder as all of you walked out of the bowling alley.

Friday night rolled around again and the big group of you went out to a bar together. The way you and Alex were around each other that night made it difficult to keep to your ultimatum.

Despite knowing him a lot better, you still hadn’t touched each other since your first night together. Yes there were lingering touches, the brush of his fingers on your skin that lit a fire inside you, but nothing more. That night, however, was more than just lust-filled longing glances at each other.

As soon as there was a hint of alcohol in both of your systems, Alex barely left your side. You always had his hand either lingering around your back in an effort to keep you close or resting his palm over your jeans-covered thigh. Sometimes, he would squeeze you to keep you on your toes. He certainly had your heart racing.

It was difficult to keep your mind from wandering, but you’re only human. You allowed yourself to ever so slightly lean into his touch on occasion, let him press you against his body and subtly flirt back with him both physically and verbally. But even when you bid each other goodbye that night, you didn’t even get a kiss, which left you needy and wanting him after he’d been such a tease all evening.

Wine night was again the following day, this time it was just you and Katie. You couldn’t get the feelings from the previous night out of your head still. He felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch as you weren’t really aware of the protocol between you, especially since Alex had been the one to arrange your previous encounters.

Thankfully, tonight Alex had messaged you on the off chance you were free. Since you were doing nothing but spinning your LPs, you agreed to let him whisk you away to an impromptu dinner. It was nice, nothing out of the ordinary now, just the both of you sharing more stories about your lives over a few drinks before you suggested finishing the bottle of wine that you bought for the table back at your house.

The energy between you tonight was nothing short of electric. Every longing glance between you felt like a bullet striking you. God, was he good at looking at you like he wanted to devour you. He was able to flick the switch between friendly to flirty in such a natural and smooth way that he always took you by surprise. Forever giving you goosebumps, making you press your thighs together, and heating your cheeks.

You’d been back at yours for about half an hour when Alex got up to search for another record to put on. He settled for an old French album he hadn’t long since discovered which he was surprised to find stacked on your shelf. Again, he complimented your taste and collection.

His praise still made you feel all gooey inside which mixed with the alcohol was stirring up more sinful desires in you. It only got worse when he spotted tarot cards on your shelf beside a few of your ornaments. It made Alex tease you a little more before he fully realised that you found that sort of stuff quite interesting.

The singer came and sat beside you, even closer than before, as you explained it to him. And despite you knowing he wasn’t retaining any information, the smile he had on that pretty face of his kept you talking at him. He couldn’t help but grin a little more when you mentioned that you can read palms too.

“You can read palms?” He asks, all wide-eyed and disbelieved.

“Yeah, it’s really easy.” You grab his hand that’s closest to you to show him what you mean. “See, you have five main lines on your palm: Life, Head, Heart, Fate, and Sun.” You trace each one as you go.

“The life line, despite what you may already think, doesn't mean how long you’re gonna live. It can mean a bunch of different things like big changes in your life or good genes. People also think that if it’s a bit straighter on some people's hands it can mean you’re more cautious when it comes to relationships.” You say as you let your finger trail up the line that starts from the base of his palm up and around the ball of his thumb.

“The head line is about your knowledge and creativity, so if it's straighter on some people it means they tend to think more realistically. A curved line can mean you're more artsy and creative too.” You smile, seeing that his head line is a little curved, matching what he’s like in life. After that you move on to the line that runs just under the bottom of his fingers, “The heart line is to do with romance and emotional stability, so like yours is short and curved so that tends to mean someone is more private about relationships and stuff which makes sense considering you’re a private person.”

Alex can’t help but mostly watch you as he listens to you tell him about your little hobby. He finds it funny that you know all of this stuff, but he finds himself entranced as he can’t stop looking at your lips as you’re sitting so close to him. He wants them on his own again, the kisses on the cheek when you were saying goodbye to each other the last few times he’d seen you weren’t enough. He’s so enamoured he almost forgets to look at the lines you’re showing him.

“Fate line is how likely you are to follow certain paths in your life. And the sun line means different things for everyone, depending on how prominent it is.” You explain, glancing at him still smiling away as you continue, “Yours is deep and that means you’re successful and it's theorised that you can get famous from it which I guess is right in your case. Mine is quite clear and that means I have good taste in literature and art.”

Alex can’t help but quietly tease, “And you’ve only got good taste in that because it’s written on your palm then, not because you actually have a fully functioning brain and can appreciate masterpieces for what they are?”

“It’s all just a bit of fun, Al. It’s interesting!” You laugh but you have to defend yourself.

“Very interesting how you know all about it.” Alex grins, loving the way he has all of your attention when he jokes, “Is there a delusional line that I should look out for?”

“Okay,” You fake a pout, but then you remember what you found in his car on the way home from the cinema, “I don’t tease you because you still have Match Attack cards from when you were a teenager.”

“Hey,” He gasps, ready to defend himself in an instant, “My Mum gave me them back, it's not something I still do.”

And you know this. When you saw the files of them on the backseat of his car, you questioned him on them and he told you his Mum found them and gave them back to him. But that’s currently your only leverage so you use it against him.

“Regardless,” You raise your eyebrows, a smile playing on your lips, “Still just as nerdy.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay.” Alex rolls his eyes and holds his hand out to you, “Let me see your palm then. Let me try and read you.”

You try and fail not to let your smile show as big as you want as you hold your palm out to him. The singer shuffles even closer to you, so your thighs and shoulders are pressed together and you're cosy beside each other.

He lets a finger trail down your palm as he asks, “Remind me where the delusional line is?”

You scoff, pulling your hand from his and flipping two fingers up at him, “It's here.”

The singer laughs loudly at that then before gently grabbing your hand and opening it back up to focus on your palm. He traces the lines there gently and it sets your skin ablaze, tingles running though your skin.

He looks at your hand so intently for about 10 seconds before gently humming, “Hmmm, interesting.”

“Why?” You ask, a smile growing on your lips as you ask, “What are you thinking?”

He tells you, “I’m seeing quite a lot.”

“Oh, you’re seeing it?” You grin, playing along.

“Of course,” The singer looks at you, his eyes full of playfulness, “I’m a professional.”

You nod, trying not to laugh, “Of course.”

Eyes back on your palm, you try not to think about the way his touch makes you almost shiver. But then you start focusing on his hands.

Those hands that made you come undone so easily. Those fingers that had been inside you and made you feel things you hadn’t felt from anyone other than yourself for the longest time. The thought makes your breath shallow and your thighs press that little bit closer together.

“Wow,” Alex continues, “I can see this really clear.”

You ask, your cheeks starting to hurt from grinning for so long, “Really?

“What?” Alex looks at you again, he makes you feel hot under his gaze when he asks, “You don't believe me?”

“No, I do,” You lie without hesitation, loving how playful this feels, “I’m just curious about your professional opinion.”

“Well,” Alex smirks and then glances at you out of the corner of his eye, “You're in luck because I can see it all right now.”

“Right.” You nod, a little giggle falling from your lips too.

Alex loves hearing it and knowing he’s the cause of it. Even the way you bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing so you can carry on playing along, he finds it adorable. But he doesn’t stop; he carries on, loving the way you react to him.

“Wow, oh wow.” Alex drops his jaw, pretending to be completely enthralled in reading your palm. Now he nods, “Yeah, that's really clear.”

You smile, full of curiosity, “What is?”

“I’m seeing,” Alex looks up from your palm with a smile playing on his lips, and tells you confidently, “That you’re going to fuck a rockstar.”

It takes everything in you not to laugh. All you can do is tilt your head and ask him with your lips twitching up, “Is that so?”

“Yeah…” Alex nods, intertwining your fingers with his now and he gives you a little tug to encourage you closer, “I’m happy to oblige, if you’d like that?”

You don’t hesitate to move where he wants you, even closer when you move so you’re straddling his lap and Alex’s free hand finds your hip and he pulls you that bit closer before letting his thumb run over your skin that's showing from the way your top has ridden up.

You’re smirking at each other, knowing exactly where this is headed now. The tension of the night building has hit its peak and this is it.

“You seem very confident about this reading.” You grin.

Alex’s smirk only grows at that, but this time he leans in so he can whisper as his lips brush up your neck towards your ear, “It’s written on your palm, I’m just offering you my body here.”

You hum at that, letting your free hand move to the back of his neck and up so your fingers could root through his hair. What you don’t expect is that when you give it a small tug so you could see him as you spoke to him, it causes the man that's under you to grip your hip tighter and buck up into you. You gasp at the friction.

Alex moves back from your neck after leaving a gentle kiss there, and he’s smirking when you say breathlessly, “I’m getting the sense that you only wanted me to read your palm so you could tell me that really shit pick up line.”

“Can’t be that shit if you’re in my lap, sweet.” Alex raises his eyebrows cockily at you, a devilish grin playing on his lips.

And God, you want to kiss it off. So much so that you narrow your eyes and say, “Oh, shut up,” before your lips hungrily find his.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A/N: Really hope you enjoyed this one! I know I did!!! How do we fancy a lil jealousy from both of them thrown into the next one. Let me know what you want to see and I'll see if i can make it happen! Thanks so much for reading and again while you wait for me, please go and read my other Alex fic @nriacc or @alovesreadings fic Constant Repeat. Enjoyyyyy x

Taglist: @alovesreading @kennedy-brooke @red---moon @ladydraculasthings @mrsschw4rtz @quicksilvers3000 @indierockgirrl @heartachenurse @bellaturner @am-monkey @alexturnersmommy @anxiousbeech @cassettecarter @malina-33 @yourorganiccigarette @clownrrai @harleyql @jeonxjinxed @andrews-lovr @justacaliforniandreamer @missbabyjay @hdebay @mirrorbvii @olliemybeloved777 @kaybee87 @simpfortoomanymen @inmyownfantasywrld @ohladymoon @findmeincorneliastreet @faveficz @parkerizzy @thereisaplaceintheheart @hazskillerqueen @bai-wuxiangs-mask @froileinuhrwerk @turnerxtuned @inmyownfantasywrld @missbabyjay @regenerationlottery @heartachenurse @cassettecarter @cylodja @aghsed @harleyql @littlemissthunderstorms

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ohbo-ohno · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 1 - Leather & Latex

Ghost x Soap - 4k (on ao3)

summary: Simon goes to a kink club looking for a masochist to beat. (Ghost POV)

cw: dom!ghost, sub!soap, sadist!ghost, masochist!soap, heavy painplay, undernegotiated bdsm because i didn't want to write it all out sorry lol but everything is 1000% safe sane and consensual

note: this is really not one of my faves of the month and i hate to start out on a not so strong note but oh well 🫠 hope you guys enjoy!

Simon leans against the bar, scanning the crowd for a potential play partner and swirling his glass of water lazily.

There are a few displays, but they rarely match Simon’s severity. He can hear Valeria whipping someone on a public stage, but her subs can never handle more than one session a night. Valeria’s as mean as he is - she puts on a good show, but always manages to get to the real painsluts before Simon can.

He needs someone who can take a few hits. Tonight his fingers twitch with the need to beat a pretty thing black and blue, he craves the pained cries and tears of a sub suffering so beautifully for him. None of his usual play partners are free tonight, all either coupled off already or busy, which means he’ll have to test drive someone new.

Always risky. In his experience, subs have a tendency to overestimate their pain tolerance when it comes to him. He tries to make his expectations as clear as possible going in, but it’s a coin toss on whether or not the sub will actually understand.

He’s contemplating moving to another club, listening as Valeria’s sub goes from shouting to screaming, when someone sidles up beside him.

The man is big, standing taller than almost everyone around him but barely eye level with Simon’s chin. He’s muscular too, defined abs and pecs displayed by his lack of a shirt. He’s got a chest harness on, one that wraps just under his tits and between them, a leather strap crossing across his collar bones and over his shoulders. There’s a little d-ring in the center - Simon imagines it’s for a leash to be hooked onto, considering his collar-less neck. He’s got something covering his groin at least, just a tiny and tight pair of leather shorts that Simon would bet money let his ass cheeks hang out.

He’s wearing an orange band on his right wrist - submissive, everything goes. Simon’s black band burns on his left - dominant, S&M

He raises his eyes back up the man once he’s done with his perusal, lets them linger appreciatively on his body. Simon’s always liked bigger subs, the ones who look like they can take a few blows and come right back for more.

The mohawked man smirks at him when they make eye contact, leans into Simon’s personal space with an elbow on the counter. “You’re not so bad yourself, handsome.”

Simon only cocks an eyebrow at that. He’s wearing his own leather pants and a tight latex top with a surgical mask over his nose and mouth, meaning there’s very little skin left uncovered for this sub to see. “Cocky, are we?”

The sub hums a little more, moves even further into Simon’s space. Surprisingly, he finds he doesn’t quite mind the intrusion. “Aye, I know I look damn good tonight. You lookin’ for someone to beat?”

Ah, right to business. Simon finds he likes this sub more and more every minute.

“Yes,” he replies, turning his body fully towards his potential partner and straightening up. “Need someone who can take whatever I decide to give. You gonna give out in the first twenty lashes?”

That gets him a snort, the smaller man moving so close they’re nearly bumping chests. “I hope that’s your warmup. Takes a lot to hurt me, I’m a right painslut. You up to the challenge?”

Simon gives the man another long look, assessing him a bit more, trying to gauge how much of his tone is bravado and how much is genuine. “What’s your name?”

“Johnny. Yours?”

“Simon. But you’ll call me Sir. Are you good with the traffic light system?”

Johnny perks up, like he hadn’t expected such an easy agreement. “Aye. You want to do this in private or on a stage?”

Simon shrugs, already abandoning his water and stepping away from the bar. “Up to you.”

“Showroom, then.”

Simon smirks at the decision, somehow unsurprised that this little sub is a bit of an exhibitionist. He strides off to the showrooms, doesn’t bother to glance over his shoulder to make sure Johnny’s following along.

There are already several people sitting in the audience for the impact-play room, watching another Dom carry their sub out through the one-way mirror. Simon holds the door open for Johnny once they’ve both cleared their intent with the dungeon monitor, confirming that they’re using the traffic light system as safe-words and that they’re going inside with no intention of having sex, just of beating and being beaten. Johnny’s antsy through the whole discussion, nearly bouncing on his toes in anticipation. It makes Simon’s lips curl beneath the mask, makes him want to grab the boy and force him still.

He pulls the mask off once they’re alone in the room, uncaring about their small audience seeing his face.

“Och, you really are handsome,” Johnny flirts, sliding up to Simon’s side and eyeing him like he’s his next meal.

Simon wraps a hand around his throat, has him pinned against the wall before Johnny even realizes he’s been moved. “That’s not how you refer to me, Johnny.”

The smaller man smirks, licks his lips and leans forward so Simon’s nearly choking him. “You really are handsome, Sir.”

That earns him a backhand to the face, gets Simon a sharp exhale and wide eyes in return. “Watch the attitude. You’re already getting the beating you want so badly, bratting won’t get you anywhere with me.”

This time, Johnny’s “Yes, Sir,” sounds far more sincere.

He pulls him away from the wall with a hand on his shoulder, sends him stumbling towards a Saint Andrew’s Cross in the middle of the room with a smack to the ass. “Stand there, back to me.”

Johnny swings his ass as he walks, sends a sultry look over his shoulder. Simon is careful not to give him anything, just crosses his arms and stands tall.

He moves forward once Johnny’s leaned on the cross, straps his ankles and wrists into the attached cuffs and double checks he’s not cutting off any circulation. He stands in front of Johnny for a moment, cups his chin and stares deep into the sub’s eyes to try and get a feel for his headspace. His eyes are clear, sparking with anticipation.

Johnny smirks up at him. “You’re gonna beat me black and blue, aren’t you?”

Simon can’t help the twitch of his lips. “Oh, I’ll break you, boy.”

“You’ll try.”

That gets Johnny his second slap of the night, an open-palmed crack against his cheek.

“Watch it. You okay with being naked, or you wanna keep those little shorts on?”

Johnny snorts a laugh. “Take ‘em off, they’re hardly covering much anyway. Get the harness off, too?”

Simon scowls at the expectant tone when he steps around Johnny, yanks his zipper down and leaves the shorts hanging loose around one ankle. He gives Johnny a few harsh blows to his ass, goes until his own palm buzzes pleasurably at the sting. If they were doing anything more than a little painplay, Simon would take the time to work on Johnny’s attitude.

“You just naturally a brat, is that it? You’ll speak to me with respect if you want your beating.”

That gets a moan, has Johnny shifting in his bindings. “Sorry, Sir.”

Simon gives his cheek a smart tap, then a squeeze. He’s got quite the ass, this Scotsman. Simon can’t wait to paint it red. He steps back after a moment of feeling him up, scans his options for the night where they hang against the wall.

He starts off with a flogger. It’s a lightweight thing, with thin leather tresses that’ll make for a nice but decently intense warmup to see if Johnny’s as much of a painslut as he claims. It’s light in his palm, and he swings it in the air a few times to stretch out his wrist and build up a bit of anticipation.

He starts laying strikes when Johnny starts wiggling again, paints them across the boy’s shoulder blades and a bit lower to turn him a light pink. His skin is tanned, so it takes a bit of work on his part. Johnny’s silent at first, still squirming around like he can hardly feel anything, so Simon increases the force of his swings at just a bit of a faster pace than he would’ve with another sub.

Johnny lets out a little sigh, like he’s relaxing into something pleasant, but he stays stiff and upright on the cross. No flinching, no cringing, no whimpering or whining.

Simon smiles to himself. First test, passed.

He continues his warm up, lays harder and harder strikes along Johnny’s shoulder blades and mid-back until he’s painted a nice rosy color, watches him settle a bit as the sting starts to sink in a bit more. By the end of the warm up, Simon loosened his dominant arm and wrist nicely, and set the tone well enough for Johnny to stay quiet and still.

At least, that’s what Simon thinks. Until he steps away to set down the flogger and pick his next tool, when Johnny looks over his shoulder with a confused look.

“That’s it?”

Simon raises an eyebrow. “That’s your warm-up.”

Johnny almost looks disappointed, resting his chin on his bicep. “Oh.”

Simon doesn’t speak, let’s Johnny stew in his own silence until he decides he’d like to finish his thought. It doesn’t take long.

“Are your twenty lashes gonna be like that?”

He fights down a smirk. “It’s a warm-up, Johnny. And you’ll be taking far more than twenty lashes, don’t start getting greedy.”

He doesn’t look fully mollified, but Johnny’s lips tilt up in the corner and he turns his head back to the wall. Simon rolls his eyes at Johnny’s back - God save him from bossy subs. If they were any more committed to each other, Simon would lock Johnny’s little prick up for an attitude like that. He’ll have to settle for humbling him with a few whips. Not the least fair trade-off in Simon’s mind.

He picks up a cat-o-nine with particularly thin leather tails, the type that should leave Johnny hissing if Simon uses it right.

He repeats his process, swings the tool through the air a few times to let Johnny hear it move, let him try and guess what’s coming. Again, he only makes contact once Johnny starts his squirming again.

He whips across the already pinked skin. Johnny sucks in a sharp breath at the first hit, releases it loudly and seems to steel himself for what’s coming. Simon can’t help his smirk now, laying lashes noticeably harder than he might with another sub.

There are clear markings across Johnny’s back where the tails hit, little raised red lines making a nice addition to the base color he’s already got going. It takes Johnny a bit longer to go still this time, takes a bit to settle into the pain but taking the whipping nicely once he does.

The color looks good on him. Johnny’s an incredibly muscular man, and the way he stiffens in anticipation of Simon’s next swing - the way his back muscles spasm a bit against his own will when he hits a particularly sensitive spot - has Simon chubbing up in his pants.

He lets out occasional little sighs at the sting, noises that seem entirely involuntarily as he starts to truly lean into the pain.

Simon adjusts his cock and gives Johnny a break after nearly 30 lashes, doesn’t say anything as he waits for whatever smart-ass remark he’ll get. He shifts back to the wall of tools as he waits, picks his next instrument.

Johnny doesn’t disappoint. He doesn’t glance over his shoulder this time, stays nice and still, loose, like the pain is starting to get to him.

“They got anythin’ more intense back there? No offense, Sir, but it’s lookin’ like your bark is bigger than your bite from this end of the leather-”

Crack!

That gets a loud cry from Johnny, his head thrown back and his spine arching away from the pain. The bullwhip feels good, familiar, in Simon’s palm, and he turns it a bit as he watches Johnny blink wide-eyed, watches him sink back into the correct position with a stiffer posture.

“Still think you can take your twenty lashes?”

Johnny huffs, hangs his head and shakes out his shoulders as best he can in his bindings. Simon watches as he slowly unlocks each of his muscles, smirks at the sign of an experienced painslut. Johnny knows damn well that the tenser he is the more he’ll hurt, and as much of a whore as he might be for his whippings, twenty lashes with a bullwhip are hard to take even loose-limbed.

Simon lets the whip drag on the floor, then cracks it through the air next to Johnny’s side. He laughs when the boy nearly jerks himself off of his cross, let’s his voice echo menacingly in the room to work Johnny up a bit more.

“Gonna have to be still if you don’t want to hurt yourself, Johnny. Be good now.”

Johnny drops his head a bit, groans as he clearly talks himself into going still. He does so a moment later, body nearly deadweight against the cross.

“Attaboy,” Simon rumbles. He snaps the whip, watches the sharp stripe of red form on Johnny’s back and nearly smiles when he cries out again. “Start counting.

Crack!

“Ugh, fuck, th-three.”

“Nope, you didn’t count the first two. Start over.”

“You’re fucking kidd-?!”

Crack!

“Fine- shit, one!”

Crack!

“T-two, Christ…”

“I don’t think I like your tone, Johnny. Start over. With respect this time.”

He really does smile at the agonized sound Johnny lets out. Poor little maso, doesn’t even know what he’s got himself into by baiting Simon all night.

“We’ll do twenty-five, just to make sure all that nasty attitude is properly beaten out of you. Remember to watch your tone.”

Crack!

“One, Sir!”

“There you go, Johnny, good boy.”

Crack!

“Two, Sir!”

The lashes look very nice along Johnny’s back. Simon almost wants to step forward and trace them with his tongue, watch Johnny cry out at the sting soothed by the soft muscle, whip him across that same spot and watch him wail…

Crack!

“Five… five, Sir!”

Simon’s careful not to let the whip wrap around at any points, lands his lashes in firm safe-zones to avoid any serious injury. It’s got the extra perk of layering his lashes on top of each other, making Johnny scream when he gets one after the other in nearly the same spot.

Crack!

“Seven, Sir… fuck…”

He doesn’t allow himself to fully sink down as he whips Johnny, he knows he needs to stay alert in case his sub’s tone shifts to anything that indicates real danger, but he lets himself float into Domspace just a bit. He feels powerful as he whips Johnny.

“Ten, Sir!”

Johnny’s shoulders quivers, and Simon adjusts himself in his pants again. There’s something so satisfying about bringing such a large, strong, masculine man to his knees (metaphorically, of course, seeing as Johnny couldn’t fall to his knees if he wanted to, tied up as he is). Johnny had walked through that club like he owned the place, head thrown back and showing off every piece of his body he could get away with.

“T-Twelve, Sir!”

It feels good to put him in his place. To metaphorically grind his heel firmly onto Johnny’s back, have him literally writhing and shouting while tied to a cross, taking his lashes like a good boy. The sight of such sharp red lines over all those hills and valleys of muscles…

“Sev… seventeen!”

“Seventeen what?”

“Sir! Sir, sir, seventeen, sir!”

Crack!

“Ei-Eighteen, Sir! I’m sorry, so sorry, Sir…”

“That’s alright, you’re still doing good, Johnny. Check in with me - you alright to keep going?”

The look Johnny shoots over his shoulder is almost offended, and surprisingly put-together considering his previous cries. “Course, Sir. Am still green. Will let you know if am not.”

Simon almost snorts. “Back around. You’re not done taking your lashes.”

There’s a smile on his lips when Johnny obeys his command. “Yes, Sir.”

“Hm. Keep counting.”

Crack!

“Nineteen, Sir!”

Simon’s surprised Johnny’s as coherent as he is at this point. He’s never pushed quite so far with a play partner on the first night, but Johnny’s eyes had been nearly clear when he’d glanced over his shoulder, only a few light traces of tears down his cheeks.

Crack!

“Twenty-two! S-Sir!”

His last three lashes are the hardest, even though Johnny’s already taken so much. He wants the boy broken down to pieces, wants him sobbing and unable to control it, wants him trembling and gasping for air in Simon’s arms.

Johnny nearly screams the final numbers, each of them laid one over the other.

“Twenty-five! Twenty-five, S-Sir!”

“Hmm, good boy, Johnny. Took your lashes well for me.”

Simon lays the cruel whip back in its place, steps around in front of Johnny and cups his chin to raise his face and make eye-contact.

Those last few lashes did their job, Johnny already looks far more fucked out than he had only minutes earlier. The stream of tears down his face is constant now, but his brow is smooth and his lips quirk up into a little smile, giving Simon all of his weight and trusting him to hold him up.

Simon strokes his leather-clad thumb over Johnny’s chin. “Color?”

Johnny doesn’t answer right away, clearly focuses on cataloguing himself and the pain now that it’s not coming so consistently. Simon’s glad to see him take the time to answer truthfully, continues to stroke across his chin for a bit of comfort. Eventually, Johnny blinks back up at Simon and says, “Green, Sir.”

He can’t help but smile a little. “Want to go a little longer, then?”

That gets him a smirk. “If your arms aren’t tired yet.”

Simon backhands him, lets his chin go so he jerks into his own arm and muffles his groan into his bicep.

“Never met a brat who’s quite as much of a painslut as you. It’ll be fun to watch you beg.”

Johnny’s canines peek out behind his lips when he grins. “Do your worst, Sir.”

Simon gives him a sharp little tap to the cheek, another to his ass when he walks away. “I’ll make you regret that, Johnny. You’ll be sceamin’ yourself hoarse by the time I’m done with you.”

The gloves Simon slips on after taking his off are heavy, a little warmer than he’d usually like for daily use, but the sharp spikes down each of the fingers are what really matters. He tests one with a fingertip as he talks to Johnny, smirks at the sting.

“You wish. Haven’t had a Dom make me cry like that in years, you think you’ll be the one to break my streak?”

Simon smirks as he hovers just at Johnny’s side, feels the heat emanating from the sub’s body and watches sweat drip down his back.

“Oh, I know I will.”

He lands a sharp smack against Johnny’s bared ass, makes sure to curve his fingers just so to make sure Johnny feels each and every barb.

He yelps, jerks away from the sting and squirms a little in his binds. Simon bites his tongue to keep from laughing as he watches Johnny’s face go from teasing and a little dazed to shocked, wide-eyed and mouth gaping.

He doesn’t wait for another response, only begins to rain down smacks on Jonny’s ass. He’s careful not to slam the spikes too deeply - doesn’t know how Johnny is with blood, doesn’t want the dungeon monitor to make it his business when Simon is so close to bringing Johnny down - but that doesn’t blunt the impact any. With the spacing of the spikes and his own fingers, it’s nearly impossible for him to not layer the hits over one another.

Simon angles himself just a little further forward, to get a better look at Johnny’s face as he starts to writhe, starts to try and run from the pain. His face is scrunched up beautifully, tears dripping down his chin and to the floor. He grits his teeth against moans.

They go like that for a bit. Simon moves himself fully behind Johnny to land slaps with both hands at once, spends some time with just Johnny’s upper thighs for a bit so they don’t feel neglected. His whole back is red, from shoulders to thighs, and the sight gives Simon that rush he’s been itching for all day.

When Johnny goes from moans to whimpers Simon moves to the front of the cross, places his gloved-hands lightly over Johnny’s chest to get his attention.

“Look at me, Johnny.” Simon waits, gives the sub as soft a smile he can when Johnny’s teary eyes meet his. “Color?”

It takes a moment, but Johnny stutters out, “G-green,” with a breathless pant, his body loose against the cross.

Simon hums as he wraps his arms around Johnny, presses his elbows tight to the boy’s ribs and places his hands firmly on Johnny’s shoulders. “Good boy.”

He drags down over the lashings, watches with rapt attention as Johnny screams.

His face goes red with it, veins popping in his neck, spit dribbling down his chin, body fighting to get away from the pain even tied as firmly to the cross as he is. Simon smiles, strokes his hands up and down in uneven patterns without easing the pressure.

“F-fuck, fuck, oh my God, sir- sir, I- fuck!”

“That’s it,” Simon chuckles, gives a few harder presses into place he knows Johnny’s more sensitive and relishes in the sound of his scream cracking. “Scream for me, boy, c’mon.”

He follows commands beautifully, Johnny. Simon’s not sure he’s ever been so satisfied watching a sub break down, watching them lose all control and go into the pain completely.

He lets himself indulge in Johnny’s pain-filled expression for as long as his boy can bear, drags his hands up and across his most sensitive spots, squeezes his ass a few times to reignite that sting.

Eventually Johnny manages to blink hazy eyes up at Simon, murmurs, “Yellow, Sir,” softly, tears still dripping down his cheeks and his breath hitching.

Simon can’t hold back his smile as he takes the gloves off, unchains Johnny and eases his limbs down. The Scot is all dead weight in his arms, but Simon’s more than strong enough to carry one subbie out of a showroom.

He’s careful with the way he carries Johnny so he doesn’t aggravate any painful spots - he hefts him over his shoulder, keeps a hand behind both of his knees to hold him steady and resists the urge to stroke his glowing ass, to feel how the heat emanates from it. There’s a little drunk giggle from over his back when he flips Johnny up.

The previous Dom and sub have cleared out the aftercare room just outside of the showroom, meaning Simon’s got free reign to coax his sub for the night down to planet Earth.

He lays him out, stomach down, on a long leather couch. The furniture’s upkeep cost must be insane considering how many sweaty bodies have laid across it, but it’s in pristine condition as Simon sits.

He tucks Johnny’s head into his lap, turns his face to the side and gives him long, slow pets down his mohawk. Johnny hums a bit at the contact, burrows his face deep into Simon’s stomach and reaches his free hand down to wrap around Simon’s ankle.

He’s endearing when he’s blissed out, his little face peaceful and his limbs loose, his back covered in Simon’s marks and his sub seemingly all the happier for it. He’ll have to get some soothing cream in a few minutes, have to properly take care of Johnny’s body when he’s not conscious enough to do it for himself.

But that can wait. For now, Simon leans his head against the back of the couch, continues his soothing motions through Johnny’s hair, and thinks about how he’ll coax the sub into another session sooner rather than later.

#this one is so much longer than it was supposed to be im so sorry lol #ghoap #ghostsoap #ghost x soap #soap x ghost #bo writes #john soap mactavish x simon ghost riley #john mactavish x simon riley #soap mactavish x ghost riley #kinktober 2023 #kinktober day 1 #ghoap smut #ghostsoap smut #cod fanfic #call of duty fanfic #hey google how do i get people to see my fic without putting it in the tags for people looking at like gifs and stuff #kinktober

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