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mypoisonedvine · 10 months

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𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐂𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐧 | dad's best friend!cillian murphy x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | based on the following request: what would dilf/dad's best friend cillian do if he found your dildo?

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 5k (this was literally supposed to be a drabble...)

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | smut (18+ only), significant age gap (reader is college-aged, cillian is in his late forties), voyeurism/exhibitionism, semi-public sex, use of toys, praise kink, unprotected sex, very brief/semi sarcastic 'sir' kink, shockingly fluffy??

Not that your parents' anniversary cocktail party wasn't horribly riveting (cue dramatic eyeroll) but you were upstairs, on your bed, on your phone; you'd had enough of 'so how's college going?' and 'what's your major again?' and 'got any boyfriends yet? you must be a heartbreaker' for one evening— or a lifetime, preferably.

It wasn’t even that comfortable to be on the bed in your party dress—a cute, short sparkly one that you’d picked out for tonight—but it was better than standing around and trying to balance in those sky-high heels; those you had kicked off into the corner of the room the second you were alone.

When you heard a small rap on the door, you hummed a quick "Come in!" and didn't even look up from your phone, figuring it was your mom or dad come to find you after you disappeared.

Instead, you heard Mr. Murphy's voice as he leaned in the doorframe; "Sorry to bug you," he said, startling you slightly as you closed Instagram and set your phone down. "Just needed a Tide pen— your mom said you might have one in here?"

"O-oh, yeah," you said, sitting up, "sure— what happened?"

"Salsa fiasco," he joked softly as he shut the door behind him, showing you the dark red stain on his shirt— though the shirt itself was red, so it wasn't too egregious, but still noticeable.

"That's too bad," you chuckled, "I warned them about that salsa— if you serve salsa, there's gonna be a fiasco, that's what I said."

He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. "They should listen to you more," he agreed.

"I've got a couple stain remover pens in that top drawer," you suggested as you pointed to your dresser.

"Great," he smiled, starting to unbutton the shirt; you got nervous for a second until you realized he had on a black undershirt beneath. It's hard to say why you were nervous about that, since you'd seen him shirtless plenty of times in the years you'd known him...

"Nobody's worried about me going missing, right?" you wondered as he continued working on the buttons, and he shook his head while shrugging slightly.

"Not yet," he replied, "but they're going to want to find you soon, you're sort of the star of the night."

You rolled your eyes, frowning. "It's my parents' anniversary party, I think they should be the focus."

"Maybe they should, but you're the much more interesting one," he informed you.

You pulled your legs up a bit, leaning to the side as you sat on your bed; as much as all this attention from your parents' friends was usually annoying to you, something about being interesting to Mr. Murphy didn't bother you so much. "Is it weird for you?" you asked, lowering your voice a bit; he tilted his head quickly as if to ask what you meant. "Going to an anniversary party after, you know—"

The words hung in the air, seeming to gather around his conspicuously naked ring finger: after the divorce. "Oh, no," he scoffed, taking off his cufflinks. "It's fine; but I'm sick of the questions about it."

You winced. "Sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"Don't worry," he laughed finally shirking off the shirt; he looked a little too good in just the short-sleeved undershirt. "You can make it even by letting me ask you how college is going."

"Oh god," you groaned, rolling your eyes, and he laughed.

"If I didn't know from your parents that you were acing it, I'd worry that your aversion to talking about it meant you were struggling somehow."

"It's not that," you assured, "it's the people."

"The people?" he pressed. "Or the guys?"

You laughed nervously, looking down at your lap. "Geez, you learn to mindread while I was gone or something?"

He stepped around your bed to get to the dresser, laying his shirt down over it. "No, I just remember that time— somehow. And I remember how much of a headache I and every other young guy was."

"I guess not much has changed then," you smiled.

"What, I'm still a headache?" he grinned as he looked over his shoulder at you.

"No, I meant—"

"I know what you meant, I'm just teasing," he chuckled. "Top drawer you said?"

"Yeah," you nodded, and he opened the top drawer of the dresser; of course, only right then did you remember that you should have specifically said top left. Because the top right was—

Oh shit.

You swallowed thickly as Cillian stared down into the open drawer, and your heart pounded as you somehow hoped and prayed that what was in there had turned invisible or something; but if the look on his face was anything to go by, it was just as visible as ever.

“I—fuck, sorry, I forgot that’s—” you choked out, face burning impossibly hot. “I never meant for you to see—I’m—could you shut the fucking drawer, please, you pervert?!”

“I’m the pervert?” he laughed thinly, looking at you again finally. “You’re the one with a massive fucking dildo in here.”

“Well—you weren’t supposed to see that—”

“Yeah, but—fuck,” he choked, “I was just looking for your stain remover and I see your— you have a— are you sure that isn’t technically considered a weapon or something? How’s a guy supposed to compete with that?”

“That’s the great thing about it: he doesn’t have to compete,” you explained, “that’s sort of the whole idea.”

He looked back at it for a second and you yelped, reaching your leg off the bed to kick him in the hip. “Would you please shut the drawer?!”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed a bit, “but I mean, how am I supposed to react to that?

“Well, you’re not supposed to just stare at it!” you insisted.

He shut the drawer, giving you a look you couldn’t possibly decipher.

“What were you thinking?!” you said, somewhat rhetorically.

“I—well,” he hummed, looking away from you for a second, “I was thinking that I can’t imagine how you can possibly fit something like that.”

You blinked quickly, not sure what to say in response to that. “Well—I mean, it’s a little big, but… it gets the job done. Keeps me from calling the guys I shouldn’t be calling.”

He nodded. “Well, that’s good… none of those college boys could possibly deserve you…”

His eyes were running all over you, and even though you’d picked out this dress just for this party because you loved how you looked in it, you felt a little exposed by his stare.

“I just can’t believe a girl like you—”

“Come on, I’ve never been a saint,” you scoffed, glancing away.

“No, I just mean… the size of that thing…” he trailed off.

“You really can’t get over that part,” you noticed, “is this some kind of… intimidation, Freudian situation?”

You glanced quickly at his pants, and he started to deny it instantly. “No—come on, it’s not—I just can’t believe you take all that. For fun. It looks like it would break you.”

You hadn’t even had any drinks at this anniversary party, and yet you found yourself with this foggy head like you were tipsy; you blurted something out as if you were tipsy. “What, you want me to prove it?”

His chest sunk a bit, and you were about to take it back when he spoke before you. “I’d like to see you try.”

Biting your lip, you sat up on the bed, reaching around him and into the drawer. He didn’t step back or out of the way, just let you grab the toy and lean back on the bed in front of him.

You reached up under your dress, sliding your panties out of the way, finding yourself suddenly plenty wet to fit this toy.

His eyes never left you, though they certainly travelled all over your body as you pressed the toy up to your entrance; it was thick, he wasn’t wrong, and you had to slowly warm yourself up to it whenever you used it on yourself.

After pushing with enough pressure, the tip finally slipped inside and you let out a small sigh. He watched carefully, and your lips fell open into a moan as you pushed the toy deeper into yourself. When the stretch became a bit too sharp, you winced and slowed down, trying to take your time even with your heart racing and hands shaking.

You heard his own breathing picking up, watching you take the toy deeper; you found your gaze wandering over him, even lingering on his groin to see if you could catch a bulge growing there, but nothing was obvious yet. You stared for a moment at his hands, too, suddenly wishing to have them all over you—well, maybe not that suddenly, you’d sort of thought about this before. It wasn’t until somewhat recently that you noticed how sexy he was. Maybe when you were younger, you understood that he was better looking than all the other adults you knew, but only once you left for college did you start thinking about him out of nowhere, imagining what he was really like when he wasn’t just being friendly with you—you even asked your mom once on a phone call if he was dating anyone. Thankfully, she didn’t seem to get suspicious when you asked that; but she’d be more than fucking suspicious if she walked in now, saw you doing this to yourself under his watchful eye.

Oddly enough, the knowledge that someone could walk in and see this just made you even more desperate, and you gasped as you pushed the toy in deeper.

It still wasn’t all the way in, and you already felt so full… truth be told, he had a point about it maybe being too big for you—when you usually used it on yourself, you only put it in a little over halfway, since that was all you really needed. You hadn’t put the whole thing inside since you first got it—and yes, you’d ordered it online, because if you’d seen it in person you probably would’ve been as intimidated by its girth as he was.

Your decision not to wear a bra with this dress became very apparent when his gaze settled on your chest; your nipples were hard, and clearly visible under the fabric now. It was just because it was strapless that you went without, but you were thankful for it when you saw him quickly lick his lips at the sight. You dared to moan just a little louder as you pulled the toy in and out, picking up your pace carefully.

“How’s it feel?” he asked lowly, his eyes drifting back to where the toy slid into you.

“Good,” you mumbled, “really fucking good.”

“Can you really take it all?” he pressed, making your walls clench on the silicone.

Instead of answering aloud, you simply pushed it all the way in until your eyes rolled back—it was so deep, pressing heavy and fat against your deepest points until it felt like you might burst.

“Fuck,” he praised—it was just a swear, but the way he whispered it made it sound like a praise.

You sped up slightly, trying to do this the way you normally would without someone staring at you. But you were even more sensitive with him watching, your walls clenching more and more around the toy until it was almost hard to keep thrusting it in and out. Sighing, you shut your eyes and laid back on the bed to try to help yourself relax. The change in angle just seemed to make the toy go deeper, rubbing harder against the spot inside you that made your back arch.

“You’re so wet,” he breathed; you whimpered, nodding in agreement, and kept moving the dildo as deep as you could get it with every thrust.

Your free arm went back over your head to hold onto the comforter under you, your hand gripping tight for some relief for the pressure inside you. “Fuck yes,” you whispered, knitting your brows together and fucking yourself faster. “Feels so fucking good…”

He hummed a little, but you kept your eyes shut, afraid you’d lose your nerve if you looked at him again. It had been months since you used anything but this, and you had no regrets—the toy performed way better than any of the guys you’d met at college. But, truthfully, you didn’t like having to do this to yourself. It felt like you could never move it fast or hard enough, and you needed to constantly have perfect control over the toy to get yourself to come—and when you come, the last thing you want is to take control, you want to lay back and lose control. Still, it was better than the college fuckboys who smelled like beer and didn’t last more than two minutes.

Thinking about them wasn’t going to help you now, though; it was much better to think about Cillian, about those icy blue eyes running all over your body, about how his hands would hold you down while he claimed you, about how his lips would feel on your neck before he whispered in your ear that you were his…

You let out a sharp and sudden moan as the toy hit harder on that spot; your legs started to shake. “Good girl,” he mumbled, making you moan even louder because god, those words just sounded right in his accent, with that rough voice—and they sounded right being said to you.

“Fuck,” you choked, “Mr. Murphy, I—”

He laughed a little. “So polite,” he cooed. “Open your eyes and look at me.”

Though it made your heart beat even faster, you did as you were told. His stare was all-encompassing, making you feel completely trapped in a way you enjoyed more than you could’ve imagined.

“Call me Cillian,” he insisted.

You weren’t sure if he meant to literally call him that right in that moment, but it sort of came out anyway: “Cillian,” you moaned, and the grip he’d taken on the dresser behind him tightened.

“Can you come for me?” he asked lowly. “Right now? Can you come on that fake cock?”

You bit your lip and nodded, moving the toy faster and faster— more desperate to come than ever. “I—fuck, yeah, I’m close…”

“Good,” he praised again. “Let me see you come, honey.”

Your back arched harder, deeper—your hands were shaking but you kept going, holding on tight to the dildo and forcing it back and forth as your legs began to quiver.

Moans poured from your mouth faster than you could try to quiet them—everyone was downstairs, you just had to hope the music and conversation was enough to drown out your desperate, pleading noises. “Fuckin’ beautiful,” he mumbled, right as you hit the peak and melted into the mattress, a wave of ecstasy pouring over you.

You felt hot everywhere, but especially between your legs—you could swear you felt yourself leaking out around the toy, soaking it, giving away how needy you’d become and not even having the mental energy to feel any shame for it.

Cillian certainly didn’t look like he was trying to shame you for it; when you opened your eyes again, he had a stunned expression—in the best way. “You normally come that fast for a toy?”

You laughed a little, but you still couldn’t quite catch your breath. “No,” you admitted, “it normally takes… a bit longer than that…”

“What was different about tonight?” he mused, and you scoffed and rolled your eyes again.

“Shut up,” you sighed. “Now I have to figure out how to take this thing out—I’m always sore after…”

“If you can handle putting it in, taking it out shouldn’t be much trouble,” he noticed.

Which, yes, that would make sense, but after coming you always got all tight and sensitive and it could be a little intense.

“How about I help you?” he offered, and your chest tightened. He waited for you to nod before carefully wrapping his hand around your own, watching your face as he gently guided you to pull the toy out.

Your lips were slack and your eyes were probably glassy and dazed as he looked at you like that, completely enveloping you in his stare as he studied every detail of your expression. Aside from some heavy breathing you didn’t react much to him sliding the toy out of you, until the ridge of the head reached your entrance and you winced.

“Shh,” he soothed gently, “it’s okay…”

A long sigh of relief emptied your chest when the toy tapered off and you felt the last of it slip out of you; you really noticed then how soaked you were, as a draft in the room seemed to cling to the patch of wetness that had coated all between your legs somehow.

“Lemme see, baby,” he cooed under his breath as he set the toy aside, kneeling down and resting a hand on the inside of your thigh to keep your legs open.

You could barely catch your breath with him doing that; you’d never had someone… look at it like that. You felt incredibly vulnerable but impossibly sexy as you heard him sigh at the sight. “Is it all stretched out now?” you wondered.

“No,” he said, “you look… just as tight as before. Fuck. That’s incredible.”

You bit your lip, sitting up enough to try to get a look at his face past the puffiness of your dress’ skirt, and he smirked up at you with the loveliest sparkle in his eye. “Really?” you breathed, and he nodded.

Even though your hands were still shaking you suddenly felt brave; maybe it was just the afterglow, but you grabbed him by the shirt and sat up to kiss him, colliding your lips with his. He reciprocated instantly, putting his hands on your upper back that the strapless dress left bare.

The kiss was perfect—needy but not too fast, sweet but not too chaste, teasing but not too slow. The guys in college couldn’t even kiss like this… you were wondering why you ever even tried with them—or, you would’ve been if that kiss left you capable of thinking about anything but him. “Need you,” you whispered as you pulled him closer, wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders.

“Fuck,” he mumbled against your lips, a hand holding your waist while he started to kiss your neck and jaw. “Not here—your parents—”

“Don’t care,” you whimpered, “I’m so—fuck, Cillian, please—”

“You already came,” he noticed with a small laugh, “didn’t that take the edge off?”

“Not enough,” you whined, getting impatient and running a hand down over his shirt and down to his pants—and you smiled proudly as you felt the hardening bulge beneath. He choked a little when you touched him there, holding you tighter. “You want me too,” you noticed.

“Of course I do, but—” he breathed, then stopped himself as he tossed you back on the bed; you giggled as he crawled up over you, pinning you down. “But we can’t… your parents would have my head on a platter—once they’re done serving crawfish etouffee off of it downstairs.”

“Well, I wasn’t planning on telling my parents,” you smirked. “Were you?”

“No,” he agreed, kissing your neck again as you hummed happily. “But if they found out—”

“So? They wouldn’t like if they found out about what just happened, either—and they won’t.”

“But this is different,” he insisted.

“How?”

“Because this…”

He trailed off, kissing down your neck and over your shoulder, until a hand reached up to pull your dress down and expose your chest.

“Shit,” he sighed at the sight of it, and you smiled up at him.

“You were saying?” you teased.

“Right, erm,” he swallowed, “this is different because—because if we do this, you’re gonna be my girl. Not just a misguided one-time fuck because you were turned on after screwing yourself with your dildo while I watched.”

You felt a little out of breath but nodded up at him. “Okay,” you agreed.

“Okay?” he repeated, looking a little shocked. “I tell you that you have to be mine and you just say okay?”

“What was I supposed to say, yes sir?” you joked.

“I just mean—shit, if I knew it would be this easy, I would’ve said something sooner,” he chuckled. “But I’m, er, not complaining about the yes sir thing either…”

He sat up and started to unbutton his pants, making you wiggle a bit on the bed impatiently. Even though you’d just gotten filled by your big toy, you felt needier than ever for something inside you—something real.

Your throat caught when he took it out— it was pale and veiny just like the rest of him; long, uncut, a bead of precum starting to leak from the slit… it was beautiful, honestly. The artificial fleshy hue of the silicone could never compete.

“Big enough for you?” he asked with a smirk, but you had to swallow before you answered because your mouth was watering.

“Yeah,” you panted, “plenty.”

He kissed you again, laying more of his weight on top of you; your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close as he pressed you down into your bed.

One hand found your wrist and held it back above your head, while the other kept a tight wrap around his cock so he could guide it to your waiting entrance. When he pushed inside, you both sighed with relief like you’d been longing for this for ages—perhaps because both of you had, in your own ways. “Fuck,” you breathed, “Cillian…”

He whispered your name back to you, heavy and desperate and right by your ear, and you absolutely knew you were his, just like he said. He only stilled for a moment when he was all the way inside, already starting to rock back and forth—but he was sort of tender about it, watching you move under him as he fucked you. “So pretty,” he praised quietly, kissing you again, even harder than before. You both moaned into the kiss, and a warm, rough hand settled on your thigh under your dress.

Soon, the pleasure was too much to even focus on kissing, and your mouth just fell wide open in front of his as needy moans passed through it. He stayed close, though, watching your face go slack with ecstasy. The previous orgasm had left you sticky and sensitive inside, still totally dripping for him, everything in you begging for more. “Oh my god,” you sighed, eyes rolling back, your composure completely slipping already. He made you feel so good so easily—and fuck, the way he was looking at you, it was just too much to bear.

“Mm,” he hummed proudly, latching his lips onto your neck again until your fingers tangled in his hair. He moved down and caught a nipple in his mouth, making you whimper as he suckled at it gently.

“Fuck,” you whined, nearly pulling him along by the hair when he moved to the other one; you couldn’t stop clenching inside, squeezing him until he groaned against your skin.

“Won’t last if you keep doing that,” he warned you softly.

“What if I don’t want you to?” you teased, and he growled a little between his teeth, sitting up to look down at you. He fucked you harder, but put a hand on top of your head and pet your hair for a moment, looking at you like you hung the moon; how could he be so dirty then so adorable within the same split-second?!

“I’ll do whatever you want me to,” he decided, speaking softly, “how about that? What do you want me to do?”

That was a little too much power to give you, at least in your opinion, but you grinned as you considered it. “Then I want you to come way too quick,” you decided, “like all those annoying college boys—because you just can’t help yourself.”

He laughed a little, though he stopped to bite his lip as he fucked you even harder—and faster, too. “Okay,” he breathed, “don’t know why you want that, but—fuck— it won’t be very difficult after that little show you gave me. You look so pretty when you come…”

“Just keep going and you can see it again,” you promised, holding onto him tighter as he pressed into you and really let you have it—not really rough or anything, you couldn’t risk making any more noise than you were, but still aggressive and passionate and desperate.

He kissed your neck again, burying his face in your shoulder and finding the spot that made you gasp out his name suddenly; your fingers clutched at fistfuls of his undershirt, and your legs began to shake where they were hooked around his hips and half-pushed-down pants.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, the pleasure hitting you again—but it was better than with the toy, it was stronger, and it just kept going because he kept going. When your head fell back onto the mattress with a sigh, he realized that he’d made you come.

“Wait, fuck, I wasn’t looking,” he rushed as he popped his head up from the crook of your neck, “do it again.”

You laughed breathlessly and pushed against his shoulder a bit; “Shut up, I can’t do it on command.”

“You did it the last two times I told you to,” he reminded you, and that just made you feel even more deliciously dizzy.

Yes, you were definitely his girl now—totally addicted to him. You’d never felt like this with somebody—not just physically, but the trust and the laughter and the comfort of it all. This wasn’t a too-empty dorm room that still smelled like fresh paint, it wasn’t a mattress with no sheets in an apartment with 5 roommates nearby, it wasn’t a guy you vaguely knew from a two-hundred-student class or someone you saw on a dating app and talked with for an afternoon before meeting for ‘coffee’ (it was never just coffee). This was Mr. Murphy—and that should’ve made it weirder, but somehow, it just made it make more sense.

“So, if I tell you to come again,” he spoke lowly by your ear, a new authority to his tone, “you should come.”

You couldn’t think of anything else to say: “Yes, sir,” you breathed, hugging him close to you and pressing your face against his shoulder.

Of course, it wasn’t quite instantaneous, but just another minute of him giving you those deep, controlled thrusts right into your favorite spot sent you over the edge easily—and this time, he gently guided your face out of its hiding spot and looked at you, watched your pleasure overtake you, tenderly rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “Good girl,” he praised softly, kissing you again just as the last of it drained from you; you were so numb that you barely heard him whisper something to you—it took you a few seconds to process it.

“I’m gonna come,” he’d whispered to you, “fuck, you’re so fucking warm…”

“Come inside,” you instructed, and for all the concern he tried to perform for you after you said that, his moan was undeniable, as was the way he started to move faster.

“Fuck, really?” he nearly whined. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, panting.

“You’re on—”

“Yes, please, just come inside me,” you begged, and he finally stopped protesting and pressed himself as deep into you as he could—you could feel the way his cock flexed, and it made your exhausted walls dig up just enough energy to flex back.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, holding onto you tightly.

You hummed a little at the feeling, turning your face towards his, hoping to see what he looked like in this moment—but he pulled you into another kiss before you could get a good look. Even this kiss was different from the others—a little slower, a little more tired in a wonderful, dreamy way. He was breathing heavy against you, and eventually he found the energy to push himself up with his arms on either side of your head, and you smiled up at him. He looked really fucking good like this: his face a bit flushed, which seemed to show his freckles and fine lines even more (which you adored); his hair falling down, a little wavier from the slight sweat he’d worked up; his lips swollen and slick from the kisses; and those eyes, they looked as beautiful as always, but they made you feel beautiful, too.

“Is taking this one out gonna hurt, too?” he asked you with a smirk.

“Probably a little,” you shrugged.

“For both of us,” he agreed, “I’m so fucking sensitive now… you really do have me acting like a desperate college boy—but you know, it’s been a while, so…”

“Right, sure—good excuse,” you joked, but you didn’t mind any of it either way.

He did it a little quicker, pulling back as he took a sharp breath in, and you giggled softly.

“Fuck, I can feel it, like… leaking out,” you admitted, biting your lip at the sick satisfaction of the warm gush.

“I think I need to see that,” he said, sitting up and picking your legs up from under the knee to look at you. This was apparently a habit of his—and you were starting to get used to it already.

“How’s it look?” you asked, wondering if he’d finally stretched you out after that.

He just stared at it for a moment longer, running his tongue over his teeth, before finally looking back at you and saying with a smile: “Looks like you need the Tide pen more than I do.”

#cillian murphy x reader #cillian murphy smut #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy rpf

7K notes · View notes

zyafics · 12 days

Note

omg hi!! hope ur doing well i love ur writing btw, (play fake is one of my fav fics ive EVER read!!)

could u do a fic where rafe and reader are like best friends, and they’ve always both kinda liked each other but they dont really act upon it, until rafe gets a buzzcut and reader starts acting like real shy and clumsy around him bcs she’s shocked abt how he could get even MORE attractive, and then he gets linda confused so he asks her why she’s acting so different and then she tells him? make it as smutty and fluffy as u want! 🫶🫶

first off, ily 🥹 and omg, YES!! i've been thinking about this ever since i got your req in my inbox, so here's my very earnest attempt at doing it justice 🩷

masterlist

pairing rafe cameron x bsf!female reader

content (5.3k words) 18+, fluff, smut, soft!rafe to reader only, protected p in v, f receiving oral, lots of banter!, nicknames used: baby and wildflower. — reader type kook, spontaneous, loves adventure, hates silence, loves noises, doesn't exactly like her reality, and friends with topper and kelce, but is only close to rafe!

dedication to @mintforadollar for helping me with the nickname and for @erwinsvow for her lovely fic, which i drew inspiration from and i've been obsessing over for the past two weeks <3

lıllılı Wildflower by 5 Seconds of Summer

"I want to run away."

It takes a moment for Rafe to register your confession and his response is a drowsy laugh. "Buy a guy dinner first."

You let out a groan, slumping against your wrinkled sheets and abundant pillows spread across your bed. "I'm being serious, Rafe. I'm tired of this house. It's too empty and quiet. I can't stand it. At night, I think I can hear my skin buzzing."

Rafe is accustomed to your sporadic calls regarding whatever issues you had with the world. Last week, it was about the insufficient amount of family portraits that frame the halls of your mansion.

"Maybe you just need to change your sheets."

"Stop!" You chastise. Rafe chokes up with another beat of laughter, low and rich with the deep timbre of his voice. The sound temporarily draws you away from your rant, igniting a small ember in your stomach. You brush away those tingly thoughts. "You're not listening to me."

"I think I'm listening to you perfectly fine, wildflower." He reassures, the solemnity of his tone takes you off the edge. Rafe shuffles on the other line, moving to a sitting position against his headboard. "What do you want? Do you want me to come pick you up?"

You cower from his offer, tucking one of your pillows under your chin. "You don't have to..."

"Don't get all shy with me now. You can't act this way when you're waking me up in the dead of night to report about your getaway plans."

"I feel bad."

Rafe sighs, getting off his bed. He knows the outcome of this conversation and rather prepares himself for the short drive. "I'm heading over."

"I could walk."

"It's freezing outside."

"Your house is down the block. I can survive."

"I'm already out the door. Just stay put." Rafe announces and before he's about to disconnect the call, he adds. "I'm serious."

He arrives in record time. Honking his truck with no regards for the nearby neighbors and you pad downstairs with a bag, descending down the driveway to the passenger side of his truck. A little shiver travels down your spine at the cool North Carolina weather.

"God, what did I tell you?" He scolds, noticing your lack of outwear, and reaches for the blanket in the backseats he keeps just for you. He throws it at your face, suffocating your air with a fluffy white fleece. You roll your eyes, covering your shoulders with it as Rafe reverses. "Where do you want to go?"

"Thought I'm supposed to buy you a meal first."

He doesn't bother entertaining your retort with a glance and flicks the side of your head with his fingers. You giggle. "We're not running away."

"Who said you're included in this adventure? I remember it being a one-person job."

Rafe scoffs. "You can't run away. You'd miss me too much."

"No, you'd miss me too much." You tease back, watching his lips pull to an upward curve at your words. It makes your heart flutters, knowing you always manage to get this side of Rafe. To the rest of Outer Banks, Rafe is seen as a precarious, self-absorbed playboy, but to you, he's your best friend.

And a little more.

The truck parks on the roadside of Tannyhill, the silhouettes of the estate surrounded by shadowy oak trees and a deep reflection of the moon on their waterfront view. Rafe doesn't make a move to leave, nor turn off the engine, before he turns to you.

"You okay?" He asks gravely, all humor stripped off his handsome features. You feel the air of your lungs stolen, at the amount of attention he's paying you, and the atmospheric change turns you to a bashful version of yourself.

"Fine." You answer, looking to your lap. "You know..."

Despite your house being a near-identical model to Rafe's, you hate yours. It's nothing about the architecture but rather the emptiness of the hallways. The cold floors sweep with minimalist decors. The echoes in the chambers where you can hear every little whirl in the air conditioner and creaks in the pipes. You'd rather be at Tannyhill.

Rafe doesn't say anything for the next few moments, observing you, before conceding a sigh. "Tell you what. I'll take you out on the Druthers tomorrow. We'll go bright and early, sail out for a couple of hours, watch the sunrise and it'll be something."

You lift your head, eyes lit up. "Is this our escape?"

"We gotta come back, though."

You frown but the offer remains enticing. It's better than nothing.

"Okay, deal." You nod, holding out your pinkie finger. Rafe scoffs at your gesture, but nonetheless, returns it. "Don't look so glum. You get to hang out with me."

"You do realize we have about three hours of sleep?"

You glance at the clock on his dashboard. He's right. But, you don't want to hold it off till another day. "I can go by myself. Just give me the keys for tomorrow."

He rolls his eyes, as if he would even consider that suggestion, and shakes his head. "I'm coming with you."

"Aren't you afraid you won't get your beauty sleep?"

"Shut up and get in the house."

You laugh and hop out of his truck. When you enter through his bedroom, you throw your bag to a random corner and stroll over to his closet in search for one of Rafe's tees to sleep in.

When you settle on something, you strip out of your clothes—in the middle of his bedroom, just as Rafe enters—and exchange it for his shirt. He had little regard for your act, having grown accustomed to you changing in front of him and vice versa.

All Rafe does is pull off his own shirt, because he likes to sleep naked, and turns back to you. Unlike him, you're never going to get used to seeing him naked—the defined muscles of his chest, the toned planes of his abs, all those hours spent at the gym are clearly not wasted.

You flush, realizing you're ogling him longer than appropriate, and lift your gaze to find a smirk curving his lips. "Oh, shut it," you push his shoulders, causing him to laugh. He takes the opportunity to capture your hand, pulling the both of you onto his mattress, and you yelp.

Rafe changes your position so you're facing him, an arm sprawls over your waist, and there's about a couple of inches of space between the two of you. Here, in the low streams of the moonlight glistening through the veiled curtains and the faint aroma of his cologne on his pillows, you can hear your own heartbeat in your ears.

You say nothing. He says nothing, You stare into his cerulean eyes, knowing all this little emotions you're feeling all over—the light pricks on your skin where he touches you, the lapse in your breathing from how attentive he is, and the sharp incline of your heart rate pulsing through your veins—is because of him.

His voice is low when he says, "you know you're my best friend, right?"

You couldn't find it in you to answer. You just nod.

Rafe swallows hard, not having the ability to string together the next sentence. Instead, all he does is nod along, leaning forward to place a light kiss on your forehead, before falling asleep.

The next morning, just an hour before the sunrise, Rafe and you head to the ports to board the Druthers. Despite the lack of adequate sleep, you were giddily and strumming with high energy. He holds out his hand to guide you up the stairs, afraid your enthusiasm would cause you to miss a step.

When the Druthers is far enough from shore, it pulls to a halt, gently bobbing on the ocean waves of the tame morning. You settle on the deck and Rafe slides into the spot next to you. Here, you have the perfect view of the sun slowly rising from the horizon, painting the sky in a palette of red, orange and yellow.

You're grinning. You're feeling much better, especially after your melodramatic episode. Your head rests on Rafe's chest, observing the skyline until the sun reaches its acme, while he watches you. Something about you, happy, content, and with him brings a warmth no one can replicate.

"We have to go swimming." You announce suddenly, twisting your head to look at him with excitement bubbling on your features, doe eyes pleading with a want.

His expression is flat, trying to contain his emotions. "It's seven in the morning."

"So? When has that stopped me before?"

"It's freezing cold."

"That's your excuse for everything." You scoff, before tilting your head in a challenge. "Are you scared of a little water, Rafe Cameron?"

There's a twinkle in your eyes, something about the way you talk to him, he would never allow from anyone else. It's just you. He had to look away, pretending to shake his head from the idea but knowing, at the end, he lost.

With a long dip into the ocean, you swim around the Druthers with light splashes thrown in his face, causing Rafe to chase after you for your little stunt. When the pair of you returned to the boat, dripping wet on the floor deck, laughter exchanging at the break of dawn.

"You cheated!" You accuse, grinning.

"I did not. You're just slow."

When you change out of your bikini and Rafe changes out of his swim trunks, you return to the cockpit where Rafe dons a new attire: khaki pants, a polo shirt, and his backward baseball cap. The air shifts, a more solemn expression on his face.

"You had enough now, wildflower?" He tips his head to your direction, as you approach him. "Ready to return back to the real world?"

You groan. "What's so special about that place?"

"Nothing that matters to you," he declares, "but I have a couple of errands I have to run today. I have to get back, but I won't leave until you're feeling better."

"Hm." You consider your satisfaction. Standing before Rafe, you watch as his lips curl in amusement at the way you're mauling through the finer details. The itinerary of your day and whether it was enough. When your eyes lock with his, you offer him a sweet smile, albeit a little reluctant.

"What?"

You don't answer him, reaching for his hat and taking it off his head, before plopping it over your own as a keepsake souvenir. "Now, I am."

—

After spending your afternoon with Topper and Kelce at the Country Club, distracting them from their tee time with your commentary about their swings, Rafe finally arrives to join you.

But it's different.

When Rafe said he had a couple of errands to run, you didn't ask for their specifics. He just said he'll join you later and you were content with that assumption.

You should've prepared yourself.

Rafe got a new haircut; a buzz that took away his dirty blond locks and a clean fade on the sides. For some reason, it makes your heart accelerate. Your breath shortens. Rafe has always been attractive before but now, you couldn't even look at him.

When he tries to approach you in greeting, you dip out of the way and return to Topper and Kelce. However, in the middle of your path, you nearly tripped over some hazardously-abandoned golf club one of the boys threw out, but Rafe caught you. A hand on your elbow, his brows drawn together in concern.

"You good?" He asks. You can't help but let your eyes stray up to his hairline, finding it voided of the curtain bangs it previously occupies and the strands you like to mess with. Your gaze instantly drops to the ground.

"I'm–I'm fine." You stutter, heat rising to your cheeks from the embarrassing fact that you couldn't even make a clean getaway. Rafe helps you find your balance and you slip out of his grasp as you excuse yourself back to the other Kooks.

That's how the rest of the evening went. Through another round of golf and a dinner at the restaurant inside the Country Club, you try to ignore Rafe to the best of your abilities. It was a difficult task but a necessary one. Your emotions were fuzzy and harder to control. You couldn't even look at your best friend without flushing or revealing everything on your face.

You thought you could wait it out till you get home.

"Come on, wildflower." Rafe grabs your wrist, just as you're about to join Topper in his car, and you turn to face his contempt expression. Annoyance written over his features. "I'm driving you home."

"No, it's fine. Top said he can give me a ride—"

"We live nearby each other. There's no point for Top to do all that. Right?" Rafe cuts a hard look to the blond in the driver seat, to whom easily backs off with two hands raised in surrender. Coward. Rafe turns back to you. "Let's go."

You end up in the passenger seat of his truck. On the long drive back to Figure Eight, you were uncharacteristically quiet. Often, you would fidget with the stereo, messing with Rafe's presets on country and rap stations, to which he always has to swat your hands away. Today, you sat obediently in your seat, hands tucked between your thighs, looking anywhere but Rafe.

"You're not going to listen to music?" He asks, trying to cut the silence. You shake your head.

"I'm not feeling it."

You try to count the seconds. You try to distract yourself by looking out the window and listening to the chirps of crickets coming out, but all you can focus on is the sound of yours and Rafe's breathing. The acute awareness of something in the air. The amount of space between the two of you. The way something deep in you changed about him.

It isn't his fault. Whatsoever. It's all yours. All those times spent at Tannyhill, stealing his shirts to wear to sleep, cuddling up in his bed after sneaking out of your estate, running around with Rafe doing god-knows-what. You developed something for him. A crush. An inkling.

You always told yourself you could control it. It's natural for best friends to like each other at one point. It'll fade away eventually.

But, unfortunately for you, that isn't the case. it got worse. It grew more desperate. With each inching territory into something else means a larger consequence it can have on your friendship.

You can't lose him.

"Hey." Rafe calls out, his voice softens considerably from the aggression he used with Topper a while back. You don't turn to face him, despite that being his sole objective, and you respond back with a light hum. "Am I driving you home or Tannyhill?"

To you, those are the same things. Home is where Tannyhill is, where Rafe is. But, you knew what he was referring to.

"Tannyhill." You answer in a chipped tone. "I forgot my bag."

"Of course, you did." He teases, trying to break the tension with some lightheartedness. It doesn't work. You don't answer, too lost in resisting the urge to look at him.

Rafe sighs when you refuse to acknowledge him and turns back to the road. That's when you spare a glance from the corner of your peripheral; just a small peek.

And there he is: Rafe with the fresh shave that is such a strange yet welcomed sight. It brings out a clearer definition of his handsome features, the planes of his sharp profile, the cut of his jawline and the wrinkles around his eyes you always adore. It's too much for you.

You can't let him know that.

He's your best friend.

When he reaches Tannyhill, you leap out of the moving vehicle and race up the porch. You take the hidden key from under the mat and turn the lock, slipping into the familiar foyer and up the large stairwell.

Racing against an internal clock, once you enter the bedroom, you search for your bag, but you can't seem to pinpoint its location. When you manage to miraculously find it underneath the covers, you throw it over your shoulders and sprint to the exit.

Only for Rafe to block it.

"Why are you in such a rush?" He asks, his brows furrowed together as he examines you. You quickly drop your gaze to the ground, pretending to be interested in the patterns on the marble.

"I just..." You stammer for an excuse. "I just got to get home."

"Why? You hate your house."

"I don't hate it." You lie. The conversation tips into an awkward tension—the exact thing you were trying to avoid. You think you need to spend a day, or two, or a whole week, to collect yourself and force yourself back to normal. Back to when you can look at him without revealing everything on your face.

"God, what is it? You don't like it?" Rafe laughs with an ounce of nervousness and the sound takes you back. You look up, finding him running a hand over his buzzcut. "It's my hair, isn't it?"

He didn't know why he decided to buzz it off. He just did. He didn't care if his father didn't approve or if Wheezie would make fun of him for the sudden change in appearance. That didn't matter to him.

But your opinions did.

"What?" Your lips part. Were you that obvious? "I never said that."

"You didn't need to. This entire evening, you've barely looked at me."

He's right.

"I was busy."

"Playing golf with Top? You hate that shit." He retorts, dropping his hand to his side, clenching them into whiten knuckles. "And when we were at the restaurant. You were sitting with Kelce. Why the fuck were you sitting with him instead of me?"

You swallow hard. Your throat is tightening with all the words you can't reveal.

"Maybe I just want to change it up. I am friends with them too—"

"But you're my friend first."

You scoff. "Possessive much?"

"Very." He answers nonchalantly. Your heart skips a beat. He can't say that; it's not fair. "And knowing you for so long, I know what you're telling me is complete and total bullshit."

His hand slides under your jaw, lifting your gaze to meet his, and you can't help but feel your walls crumbling. You're afraid. You're so afraid.

"Come on, wildflower." He murmurs softly, swiping his thumb across your cheek. "Tell me the truth."

You have always been able to do that. In ways. When Rafe asks something of you, you're always able to tell him straight. It's one of the qualities he likes about you. Now is the first time you're going against your nature. Because it's too close, too real, that it can change everything.

Your throat grows dry and you lick your bottom lip, causing Rafe to glance down.

"I..." You begin, trying to string together a coherent sentence that won't damage everything. He raises a brow, waiting. "Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you."

You close your eyes after the confession. Your heart is in his hands.

All the air in the room stills, as if the air conditioner turns off and you're all left with a tense, palpable silence. You can't bear it. At least, at your house, you can blast your speakers on full-volume to create some level of noise and block it out. Here, all you can hear is the thumping of your heart in your ears.

"Say something." You urge.

"Sometimes it's hard for me to look at you too."

Your heart drops. You think he doesn't understand. He thinks you can't stand him physically, especially after his haircut, and this is a similar sentiment shared by him about you.

He doesn't feel the same way.

"Oh."

You open your eyes, trying hard not to cry. You can feel them swelling with hot tears but you blink fast, trying to not let Rafe see.

He immediately recognizes the look, drawing back his hand. That’s not what he meant. "Don't cry."

You're not doing a good job at hiding anything today. "No, it's okay," you say with a crack voice, "you don't have to—"

"No, fuck," he swears, "what I mean is that, sometimes, when you look at me, I just—" He couldn't explain himself, not in time, not in the way he wants, that he covers your eyes, flooding your vision with darkness and heightening every other sense.

Rafe releases a deep exhale, collecting himself. "Those eyes..." He mumbles, the resonance of his voice so close, it's as if he's right beside you. You feel his breathing fanning against the curve of your neck, raising goosebumps. "They drive me fucking insane."

Then, he kisses your neck.

The act jolts you by surprise.

"Everything about you drives me insane." He confesses against your heated skin, the vibration of his words sending straight tingles through your body. "I can't go a day without thinking about you. About wanting you."

Not just as a best friend, but as a whole. Everything about you he needs. In his life; forever. Sometimes, he can't believe you exist.

You're overwhelmed with all these new emotions. Your heart is swelling. "Rafe..."

"You're my best friend, right?" He muses, delivering kisses up the column of your throat to the underside of your jaw, and making his way closer to your lips. "But you're also the only one for me."

Before he gets to your mouth, you grab his wrist, the one holding you blindfolded. He stops in place—afraid this is your time to reject him.

"Rafe." You breathe out. "Can I see you?"

He slowly removes his hand, allowing your vision to flood back with his presence. This time, the sight of Rafe doesn't push you into overdrive. There's a new sense of clarity and calm, an elated comfort you don't share with anyone else.

You take your time drinking him in. From his face, to his lips, to the fresh haircut you're feeling entirely too grateful for. You do it all without fear.

"What?" He demands, his insecurities skyrocketing through the roof. "Don't like it?"

"I love you."

His heart lunges in his chest. He couldn't believe the words coming from your lips. When it completely registers that this is not some sweet, wet dream he's going to wake up from, his hands reach forward to cup either side of your face and he finally kisses you.

His force pushes you back against his bed and you land on the mattress with a soft thump. You laugh into his mouth and Rafe grins against your lips.

"Eager, much?"

"I wanted to hear you say that for so long." He admits, his hand travels down your waist to grab your hips and pull you closer. Rafe deepens the kiss, swallowing the little sounds you're making, until you have to pull away to catch your breath.

You can't believe this is happening.

"I didn't know you were such a good kisser."

"Yeah? You wanna know what else I'm good at?"

Your eyes drop to his pants, seeing the subtle outline of his erection straining against his zipper, and he chuckles lowly. "You want it tonight?"

You nod timidly. Your eyes dropping to your lap again, but this time, Rafe doesn't allow you to do such things.

He grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to his. "Don't do that, baby. You know how I feel about you getting shy from asking what you want. Use your words."

The new nickname is making you lightheaded. You can't believe this is real. "I want you, Rafe."

Sweetest goddamn words he ever heard.

He tips his head to your clothes. "Take it off."

"You first."

He laughs at your competitiveness, always trying to challenge him, but he doesn't resist. He pushes himself off the mattress, pulling off his shirt and removing his pants. All that is left is his boxer-briefs, which reveals the outline of his bulge. "Your turn."

You take off your shirt and your shorts and decide, last minute, to go the extra mile and unclasp your bra too. It falls over your shoulders and you throw it out onto the floor.

Rafe takes his time, staring at your tits. He has seen you naked before, the consequence of your intimate relationship that pushes the boundaries into blurred lines and the inevitable collision of morning showers in his ensuite and drunken exchanges after parties.

But this time, it's different. This time, it's a sight that's intentional—just for him.

"Do you know how long I've waited for this?"

You gawk at him, the words send a thrill down your spine. "Do you know how long I waited for this?" You gesture back to him, at his naked frame, and he smirks.

"You got an eyeful last night."

"Oh, shut up," you use your leg to kick him, but Rafe catches your ankle in the process. Your eyes widen as he uses the opportunity to spread your legs apart, sinking between your thighs. His gaze finds your soaked panties.

His thumb traces across your panties, drawing out your wetness against the fabric and collecting your arousal. You whimper, aching into his touch.

"Rafe, please." You beg. His eyes lifts to find yours in a self-satisfied grin. He loves knowing you're this desperate for him, only him, that his fingers hook under the band of your panties.

"Lift your hips for me." He commands and you obey. He pulls off your panties and hauls you to the ledge of his bed. With that, his fingers caress your wet slit, drawing out a low moan from you. "Fuck."

He has imagined that sound a thousand times over, but it's incomparable to the real thing. To know you're feeling this way because of him. He feels himself growing harder, straining against the thin fabric and begging to be inside of you.

But he wants to pleasure you first.

Rafe lowers himself and covers your clit with his mouth. He proceeds to suck, his fingers grazing your entrance before plunging a thick digit inside.

You tip your head against the mattress, reveling in the feel of his tongue against your swollen nub, the way he thrusts into you with a steady pace and the additive finger. Your legs drape over his shoulders, closing him in.

"Fuck, baby, you taste so sweet," Rafe mumbles against you, the vibration of his words stirring something inside of you. "I can't believe I haven't been tasting you every single fucking night."

You draw out with a breathy moan, feeling yourself clench at his words. "We have all the time now."

"I bet I can make you come on my face fast, though."

You don't get a chance to entertain the response before Rafe sucks harder, pumping inside of you with a determined speed that causes you to arch off the mattress and claw at his sheets.

"Shit," you whimper, squeezing your thighs together at the intense pleasure, forcing Rafe to use his free hand to push your legs apart. You feel your climax rapidly approaching. "Oh, god, oh, god."

You come on his face, as promised, and you slump back against the bed, catching your breath. Rafe removes his hand from your cunt, the emptiness causes a little whine.

"What?" He looks at you.

"Nothing," you mumble, "I just want you inside me."

He laughs. "God, you're needy," he teases, causing heat to rise to your cheeks. "Don't worry, baby, you'll get it soon."

He goes to his nightstand and pulls out a condom. Just as he's about to tear it open, he glances down at you, extending the small square. "Want to do it?"

You nod, pushing yourself upright and taking it from his hands. You rip it open, as Rafe removes his boxers, and his cock springs free, red and swollen with a bit of precum. You smile, glancing up at him with your doe eyes. "Is that because of me?"

"Shut up."

You giggle, rolling the latex over his length, taking your time to admire his size. He's big and perfect, the tip of his cock dripping with his precum that you almost wish you could take him inside your mouth instead. However, despite the recent orgasm, your body wants him inside.

"Lay back." He commands thickly. "Spread your legs."

You do as he says, throbbing from the control he has in the room. Rafe sinks his knees into his mattress, approaching you as he pushes your thighs apart and lines his tip against your entrance, causing your breath to shorten.

"Come on, wildflower, breathe with me."

You nod shakily, closing your eyes for a moment to inhale a calming breath before he plunges deep inside you, filling you to the hilt. A gasp escapes you, his girth stretching you out, but it soon fades into a pleasure unlike any others.

"God, you feel good," he mumbles, lowering himself to your mouth and capturing your lips into a hot kiss. Your hand drapes over his shoulders as he begins to thrust inside of you. "Too fucking good."

You feel perfect. All of this is too perfect. The way you press against him, your fingernails scraping his back, the way your pussy grips him with the ideal amount of pressure, and the way your lips sync with his as if you were made for him.

The air fills with your whimpers and mewls, increasing in volume with each thrusts that enters and leaves you, while Rafe is heaving in breathy grunts and moans. He pushes your legs back, forcing the new position to grant him deeper access into your sweet cunt.

He's hitting new spots you didn't know were possible. It's making your eyes roll to the back of your head, your cries coming out with desperate pleas, that he had to cover your mouth with his to swallow all the noises.

When you feel yourself reaching a familiar high, the buzz tingling between your legs, you grip his shoulders tight. Rafe feels your walls fluttering around him, and he quickened his pace, sweat breaking across his forehead.

Your breath is heavy, your heart is racing, and as you ascend into your peak, you moan out Rafe's name with such euphoric satisfaction, he comes with you, emptying into the condom.

When he finishes, he falls into the space next to you. His breathing is rough, trying to catch his own breath, that you can't help but turn your gaze to his, examining him under this new light.

Rafe catches you staring, the way your eyes lift to his hairline, and he reassures with a soft brush against your jaw. "It'll grow back, I promise."

"it's not that." You declare, dropping your gaze down to his face. You still can't believe the embarrassment you still feel by how attractive he is. "I like it."

"You do?"

"Why else would I hide from you?"

Rafe scoffs, shaking his head with a ghost of a smile on his lips. His hand drops to your waist, pulling you closer to him until you're skin-to-skin, your breasts pressing against his chest.

"You couldn't tell me the whole time?" He mumbles, kissing your nose. You giggle.

"If I did, we wouldn't be here having sex."

He takes a moment to consider your words, before finding some merit in them. "Fair." He declares, just as his eyes find yours again. This time, he can look at you, knowing you're his. "I guess next time I get a new haircut, I can propose, huh?"

Your heart drops. Your smile fades from surprise. "What?"

He laughs at your expression. "You think I'm letting you go after this? It's either us or nothing."

Maybe reality isn’t too bad.

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themidnightcrimson · 2 months

Text

skirt ࿏ wm

summary: in which wanda gets a little too handsy during a small party.

words: 4.5k

warnings: top!wanda, fingering (r receiving), semi-public sex, severely gay ogling, reader being a fuckin simp

this fic is for 18+ only. minors dni.

masterlist.

Steve had unfortunately complained to Tony that the parties he always held in his huge, modern, techno mansion were not intimate enough. Tony, always ready to take complaints from Steve with a cheeky attitude, passed the message along to Pepper who decided to truly make something cozier for everyone.

Tony’s parties were pretty much bi-weekly at this point, every other Friday night. The team almost always showed up in entirety, and the regularity of it was becoming sentimental to some of you. Even Tony was starting to plan them: “You guys gotta try this whiskey. I’ll bring it next Friday” or “I swear, Cap, I’m gonna put you in a suit on Friday and shoot you up to Mars.” It was cute.

Tonight, instead of drinking and playing poker around Tony’s in-house bar room, Pepper had set up something beautiful outside. You’d arrived at the party with Nat, stepping through the back patio of Tony’ mansion and seeing something set up in his backyard. Tied between two trees was a large white screen, and several yards in front of it was a projector mounted onto the roof of the patio, pointed right towards the screen.

In front of the screen, on the lush, freshly-trimmed grass yard, was a whole bunch of pillowy chairs with blankets cast over them, set up like little cots. To the side of the arena was a little hot dog stand that also had a big red and golden popcorn machine currently popping popcorn attached to its hip, as well as a large futuristic-looking cooler full of ice and bottled drinks. There was even an attachment on the front of the hot dog stand with an array of candy bars.

Strung above the entire arena were strings of fairy lights going in every direction, tied between trees and the railing of the patio porch. The sun hadn’t quite set yet, but they were already turned on, providing cute little lights above the cozy scene. It was the homiest thing you’d ever seen at Tony’s home.

“My god,” Nat remarked as she looked around, looking as shocked as you. “It looks like Tony’s planning on proposing to all of us at the same time tonight.”

“I would say yes,” Banner said, coming up beside you and gawking up at the lights. He ran down the steps of the patio and towards one of the fluffy chairs made of pillow, throwing himself down on it and squishing it to the ground. You could hear his sigh of comfort from the patio.

“Do you guys like it?” Pepper asked, coming out of the house. “There’s more food and snacks inside if you guys want anything that’s not out there.”

“I feel like I’m experiencing my first American sleepover,” Nat said, turning to Pepper. “It’s great, really!”

It was cute seeing Nat get so excited like that. Steve showed up behind Pepper and had the same reaction as everyone else, even tearing up a little bit. When Tony reluctantly entered the patio, Steve gave him a slap on the shoulder. “This is really great, Tony. Really great.”

Tony tightly smiled and quickly went back into the house to avoid any more sentiment.

Since the few of you were the first to arrive, you all stayed on the porch and made conversation while waiting for everyone else to show up. It was a chilly spring night, the wind picking up and every once in a while catching the black skirt you were wearing. It was that annoying time of year, of course, where you would have been sweating during the day but now you were shivering at night. You wished you had worn pants instead of a skirt. You didn’t know you’d be thanking yourself later for the opposite.

You had been discreetly waiting for someone the entire time. As more people lingered through the back door into the backyard, you nervously glanced at each figure and hoped it’d be the one you wanted it to be, but it never was.

And then you knew. You didn’t see her, or hear her name, or any other evidence that she was there other than the fact that the pit in your stomach grew and there was a tingling sensation across your nerve endings. The witch always had that affect on you. You didn’t know if it was a spell or something, or maybe you were just acting like a crush-stricken schoolgirl, but you had a habit of always knowing when Wanda entered a room.

Surely enough, through the tinted windows lining the back porch, you could see a flash of red hair making its way towards the back door, that smile you had memorized greeting people as she stepped between them. A shiver crawled its way up your lower spine as the door opened and that face stepped through, the one you’ve been dreaming about, the one that haunts you, the one that twists your stomach into knots when you see it because it makes you think of all the times you’ve touched yourself with that face in mind.

Wanda stepped onto the porch, her hair in wavy locks down her shoulders. She was wearing a soft, light pink sweater that probably looked like off-white to everyone else in the dusk light, but you paid enough attention to know it was pink. It matched the gentle pink in her cheeks, and in her lips…

You and Wanda’s…”situation” was only just blossoming. After months and months of tense friendship and subtle flirting, you’d finally broken the ice when you’d shared a drunken makeout session at one of the parties. You found Wanda to be much bolder than you’d expected her to be, but it invigorated you so. She knew how to keep you on the edge but give you enough to keep you satisfied. She hadn’t fucked you yet, though she’s gotten close. You’ve felt her mouth, and her thigh, but she hadn’t touched you with her hands yet. Her hands.

It was embarrassing when Nat had to snap you out of it. You’d been staring at Wanda since she’d entered the backyard space and got caught up in a conversation with someone else on her way to greet you. You weren’t even sure if she’d seen you yet, but with how sly the witch was, you were sure she was fully aware of everything.

“Hey, you’ve got a little drool there,” Nat said, motioning to her own chin while looking at yours. You blushed and rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath and turning your back on Wanda. Even though she still hadn’t looked at you, you swore you could feel her eyes burning into your back.

“Shut up,” you whispered, crossing your arms and shivering slightly in the cold.

Like clockwork, you suddenly felt a warm arm wrap itself around your shoulders. God, you even recognized her touch now.

Looking up, you saw Wanda appear beside you, her arm slung over your shoulder and pulling you into her gently. You felt the softness of her sweater and her hair against your arm as you were overcome with her cologne. It was sweet but deep, and it made you melt every time you smelled it because it reminded you of all your moments with her.

Wanda smiled down at you, and you half-expected her to lean down for a kiss, but she didn’t. You weren’t public yet, though Nat knew the extent of it, and everyone else had just assumed. They all thought that if you weren’t fucking, it was at least obvious that Wanda wanted to, and no one would dare get in the way of that. This was all without your knowledge, of course, because you were innocent and naïve and thought that no one had any clue about it except for Nat. That was one thing that Wanda liked about you.

“Hey there,” Wanda smoothly said in almost a whisper. Every time you get close to her for the first time, you feel like you’re seeing her for the first time all over again. Her sparkling green eyes, soft lips turned in a self-assured smile, structured cheekbones, her cute little nose. It all made you swoon like a schoolgirl.

“Hi,” you squeaked, feeling your face get hot all over.

Wanda gave a breathy chuckle, obviously picking up on your little squeak. She gave a little space between you for a moment to let her eyes rake down over your figure. They landed at your hips, and her smile faded, turning almost crooked for a moment before she licked her lips and pursed them. “Hmmmm,” she hummed, pulling you into her again, a little tighter now. “You look so fucking good,” she hissed, leaning down towards your ear. You felt her breath fan against your ear, and then her lips grazed it, before she turned away, stiffening as if trying to hold something in. You watched her jaw flex, the muscles straining in her swan neck as she inhaled deeply.

You weren’t sure what exactly was going through the witch’s mind, but your body was burning all over. It almost pained you how you always had such a physical reaction to Wanda.

Wanda did not let go of you. Even as she lingered around the patio, even as people came up and made conversation, she kept you under her arm like her own pet bunny. You felt safe like that, tucked into Wanda, letting her lead the conversations while you just leaned against her soft sweater and inhaled her sweet perfume. The duality of Wanda’s gentle physique but domineering nature made your head dizzy.

Wanda was like a bee to honey to you for the entire time that you and everyone else waited for the party’s population to be dense enough to start a movie on the large projector screen. Finally, once the sun had set and only left an orange streak at the bottom of the sky, Tony came back out onto the patio and, fully equipped in his suit, stuck his hands out to the side and levitated up towards the projector. Halting mid-air, the face of the suit flipped away to reveal Tony’s face.

“Greetings and welcome to the lamest party Tony Stark has ever thrown,” Tony announced, earning several laughs throughout the small crowd of people before flipping the projector on and flying away.

Light illuminated onto the screen, and an old black-and-white Hollywood movie began playing on the screen. People made their way over to the little cots set out on the lawn, while some stayed on the patio pretending to be the adult part of the crowd.

“Want some snacks?” Wanda whispered in your ear, to which you gave a dumb nod, too focused on the way her hand slid down to your waist and gripped it.

Wanda led you over the little hot dog stand that shone like a beacon in the darkening lawn, apart from the light from the movie. You were about to tell Wanda that you wanted popcorn and Skittles, but she somehow beat you to it. “A bag of popcorn and some Skittles,” she told the guy behind the stand. Nodding, he began to load up a bag of buttery popcorn as you looked up at Wanda in confusion to how she knew what you wanted.

Mind-reading can be useful in many ways, kitten.

You thought Wanda had spoken, since you had heard her voice, but her lips didn’t even move and her voice sounded like it was behind you. Your eyes widened in realization that Wanda was using mind-reading on you for the first time—though it actually was about the hundredth time that she’d pried in on your cerebral. It was the telepathic communication that was happening for the first time, but she thought your confusion on the terms was cute.

“Thanks,” Wanda told the guy as he handed you the warm bag of popcorn. She took a bag of Skittles and two bottles of soda and placed her hand on your lower back, her warm palm ushering you towards a cot in front of the screen.

She decided to choose one a little off to the side, spaced out more from any others. It was a double, basically a large pillow in the shape of a chair that could hold two people.

“This is so fun!” you exclaimed, hopping down on the cot and sighing at how soft it was, understanding now why Banner was so relaxed when he had jumped onto one. There was even a little basket beside the chair that held a large, fluffy blanket folded up. Pepper had truly gone all out.

Wanda plopped down beside you, her warm body instantly melting into yours as her weight into the pillowy chair dipped you down closer to her. The redistribution of weight had moved you in a way that your skirt hiked up your legs.

Wanda’s eyes flickered to your skirt, her pupils swarming. You blushed and pulled your skirt down to cover yourself, discreetly watching Wanda blink and force herself to look away. She leaned back in the chair, snaking her arm behind you and curling it around your waist, which only deepened the blush on your cheeks.

Reaching towards your lap, Wanda took a piece of popcorn from the bag you held between your legs and popped it into her mouth. You took a piece and moved it towards your mouth, but suddenly her hand stopped you.

“Nuh uh,” she said quietly, taking the popcorn from between your fingers. “Let me do it.”

You froze, staring at her face that was so close. It was illuminated by the projection on the screen, her green eyes darker than usual.

“Open your mouth,” she whispered, her eyes flickering down to your lips. There was a hunger in her eyes as she watched you hesitate before slowly opening your lips, your heart beating twice faster in your chest. Wanda brought the popcorn to your mouth, letting your tongue take it. You were surprised when, as you felt the texture of the popcorn on your tongue and the butter flooded your taste buds, the tips of Wanda’s fingers lingered in your mouth. As you attempted to close your lips, they only closed around her fingers, tasting the extra salt left behind on them. Your face grew red and hot as you watched Wanda smirk, pushing her fingers in just a miniscule bit further, her own lips parting in infatuation as she watched your lips suction around her fingers.

“Good girl,” she whispered, slowly dragging her fingers out of your mouth.

As if nothing happened, as if you weren’t sitting there blushing and sweating and feeling the space between your legs get warm, she went back to simply eating the popcorn and staring up at the screen.

Clearing your throat, you forced yourself to stop staring at this blasted woman who just teased you so easily and tried to focus on the movie.

Wanda’s handsy-ness wasn’t too extreme during the first half of the movie. It was only her arm around your waist, her hand rubbing your back sensually, her fingers softly combing through your hair and pulling on it hard once or twice just to get a squeak out of you, to which she pressed a discreet kiss to your neck. It was like she was just playing with you. It was like she was just playing with her food.

It wasn’t until halfway through the movie, when there was no sight of any sunlight in the dark night sky, that Wanda strengthened her moves on you.

Under the pretty fairy lights, as everyone else started to calm down and really settle into the movie, a chilly night breeze sewed itself through the air. It flittered over your exposed legs, causing you to shiver. Wanda, who’d been trying not to ogle your thighs all night, couldn’t help but see the goosebumps on your tender skin.

“You cold?” she asked in a soft, sweet tone. When you nodded, she reached over to the basket and brought out the large, thick blanket, draping it over the both of your laps. The warm, soft blanket was such a relief to your cold legs, and with Wanda’s body also available to you as a heater, you felt so cozy and safe.

Then Wanda’s hand reached under the blanket and rested on your thigh, her palm curving around it. The action made you stiffen, your skin growing exponentially warmer where her hand touched. The intimacy of the action sent shimmers through you, and you tried to beat back the little smile on your face.

Wanda, on the other hand, was trying not to smirk. She was more purposeful than you gave her credit for, but again, your naivety was what fueled her to see just how much she could get away with.

You were trying your hardest to ignore her hand on your thigh until it suddenly shifted upwards, pushing your skirt up with it. You gasped quietly. Her hand was all the way up your thigh now, gripping your flesh firmly. Her fingers were wrapped into the inner most tender part of your thigh, pressing into the soft skin there.

The heat between your legs amplified with how close Wanda was to it. You couldn’t help but nervously glance around, afraid that somehow someone had seen her hand grab your thigh under the thick blankets. Luckily, no one was looking. The closest person to you was Nat, but she was watching the film with her head tilted and arms crossed, obviously trying to analyze it like she did with most films.

“Wanda,” you whispered, glancing up at her to see that she was already staring at you darkly.

“What, princess?” she asked innocently.

The name struck you like a bullet of white hot fire in the pit of your stomach. She watched you seriously, a smirk twitching the corners of her lips, as she tightened her grip on your thigh. It stung a little, her fingertips digging so hard into that sensitive inner flesh of your thigh, that you almost squeaked.

“If you want to make noises for me, then do it, babygirl,” she lilted, and you almost gasped when her hand slipped fully under your skirt. You squirmed a little, but she looked at you threateningly. “Don’t move.”

Your breathing grew heavy as you looked around again, feeling that for sure someone was looking this time. No one was.

No one will see, detka.

Wanda’s voice was in your head again. You sharply turned to look at her, but she was staring at the screen now.

Suddenly, you felt something under the covers spreading your thighs open. You hadn’t even realized you’d been squeezing them together, but as you looked down at the blanket, you saw a hint of red glaring through it as your legs spread themselves wide open. She was using magic to open you up for her. Out of impulse, you tried to slam them shut, but her magic held you there, the red glare dissipating so as to not draw attention to what was happening beneath the blanket.

Be still.

You bit your lip as you felt Wanda’s hand cup you under your skirt, her palm pressing into your fabric-covered core. Your breath quivered out of both nervousness and pleasure when she found your clit through your panties and slowly rubbed it.

I can feel how wet you are through your panties, princess. Her voice was even husky in your head.

You tried to keep still as Wanda rubbed your sensitive nub, looking around again to see that still no one was looking at you. But the fact that anyone could look over at the wrong moment, see part of Wanda’s arm stretched towards your lap under the blanket, seeing shapes inappropriately moving under the fabric, instilled a sense of fear into you that seemed to propel your desire.

Good girl, just keep being still for me. I know how bad you’ve been wanting this. You’ve dreamed so much of my fingers.

God, how did she know? Had she been spying on you?

Her fingers dipped down your fabric-covered slit, tickling there for a moment and feeling the wet spot forming on your panties. You were soaking by now, you could feel it, and it only got worse when Wanda started to push your panties to the side.

You started to open your mouth to tell her no, that she shouldn’t do that in front of everyone at a party, that anyone could look over and see and that it’d be so embarrassing, but her voice was quick to reprimand you.

So what if someone sees? I’ll let anyone know that you’re all mine.

With that, her fingers successfully slipped under the thin, stretchy fabric of your panties and met your soaking cunt. You heard Wanda let out a tense breath as she seeped her fingers through your sopping folds, her jaw flexing again.

You’re so fucking wet, babygirl. Her voice growled within your head, dizzying you.

You glanced around nervously, almost thinking someone was looking at you, but finding that no one was still. You felt so nervous about it, so paranoid, but your feverishness was mostly just from Wanda’s fingers rubbing your bare clit now, moving your wetness all around.

I’ve been wanting to feel your pretty cunt for so long. You just had to wear this slutty little skirt tonight, hmm?

Heat burned throughout you as Wanda’s fingers moved towards your entrance, circling it. You stiffened a little, not knowing exactly what to expect from her. You had to force yourself to not gyrate against her hand, to not turn to her and beg for her to just do it, to not moan out loud. It was especially hard not to do the last thing when Wanda’s fingers thrusted inside you.

“Oh—” you started, until Wanda’s magic snapped your mouth shut. Wanda went completely still, freezing completely. You took a blushing, nervous glance around and nearly died when your eyes made contact with Nat’s eyes.

You froze like a deer in headlights. Nat was staring at you while Wanda’s fingers were inside you for the first time. You were looking her in the eye while your walls clenched around Wanda. You wanted to set yourself on fire.

Fortunately, Nat only gave a casual little head nod and a smile and then turned back to the movie. You knew Nat well enough to know that she wasn’t just pretending that she didn’t see anything. Luckily for you, she really had not noticed anything unusual other than your usual awkwardness around Wanda.

Close call, princess. You almost got found out for being a slut for me.

Taking a shaky breath, your hand crawled around until it found Wanda’s knee under the blanket and gripped it for dear life as she started thrusting her fingers inside you. You tried not to whine at the stretch—it’d been a while for you.

You’re so fucking tight, baby. Wanda’s voice was breathy in your head.

You threw your head back a little as Wanda’s fingers pumped in and out of you, and you could even hear the faint wet sounds coming from under the blanket. It made you feel so dirty, getting fingered like that in front of everyone, and being so wet for it, too.

I knew you were such a slut for me. What if I rip the blanket off right now, hmm? Expose you for spreading your legs for me even in public like a whore?

Gritting your teeth together, you felt Wanda’s two fingers hitting a sweet spot inside you. It was so hard to not buck your hips, to not squirm or moan or do anything but etch claw marks into Wanda’s knee.

And then you felt a more noticeable stretch. Squeezing your eyes shut, you felt Wanda force a third finger into you. This time you couldn’t help it. You threw your head to the side and buried it in Wanda’s chest, letting out a mix between a quiet moan and a sigh that luckily was muffled by Wanda’s sweater. Keeping as still as possible, you inhaled Wanda’s perfume and scratched the fuck out of her knee as she pumped three fingers inside your cunt at an agonizingly slow speed. You knew she would’ve fucked you a lot harder if it weren’t for the sake of being discreet.

“Wanda,” you murmured into her chest, feeling the valley of her breasts from beneath her sweater cushioning your face. “Wanda, I’m close.”

Her fingers were hitting so deep inside you. They were so long, and she was curling them, and she was hitting your sweet spot deep inside, and you could feel your juices dripping down yourself.

Hold it. She commanded.

You didn’t even realize it, but you clamped your teeth around a chunk of her sweater, biting down hard on the thick cable-knit fabric as the woman’s fingers plundered you at a steady pace. You didn’t even know if anyone was looking at you now, and you didn’t even care because your body was starting to tremble as you struggled to not cum all over her fingers.

Finally, when you begged again, she acquiesced with Cum for me, princess.

It took all of your power to not moan out loud as you orgasmed with Wanda’s fingers lodged deep inside you, your walls spasming around them and your hips trembling. She nuzzled her nose against the top of your head and hissed when you bit down on her sweater again and accidentally bit into her breast. She held you still with her spare arm, her fingers deep in you, as you came down from the blinding high.

“That’s it,” she whispered into your hair. “Good girl, just breathe.” You were breathing very hard to make up for not being able to moan. “You were such a good, quiet girl for me, angel.” The praise landed over you like soft kisses until you realized she was also pressing soft kisses to the top of your head.

It didn’t help that, when you had finally calmed down and Wanda pulled her shiny fingers out of you, she popped them into her mouth and sucked off all of your cum. You blushed and dug your face into her chest again, this time purposefully biting her breast which made her hiss again and then giggle evilly.

Luckily, no one had seen you get fingered by Wanda, at least not to your knowledge. Nothing had ever come out of it, at least, except that Tony spread a rumor that you had peed yourself during the party because when you stood up from the chair at the end of the night, there was a wet spot right under where you had been sitting.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #lesbian #marvel #lgbt #wanda maximoff x f!reader

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forsworned · 3 months

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˗ˏˋcrazy cat lady ft. poly!tf141ˎˊ˗

꒰ঌa/n໒꒱ something about simon and cats is just really pullin at my heart strings tn, for @chamomiletealeaf bc she wanted more :)

꒰warning(s)suggested polyship, fluff꒱

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀˗ˏˋrequests are openˎˊ˗

"God, not again."

Simon groaned, as he caught her feeding the alley cats. That piqued Johnny's interest as he walked into the living room area where Simon was standing. He peeked over his shoulder and saw her open a can of tuna-salmon wet food and tipped it into the bowls that she "sneakily" set outside. The alley cats all surprisingly patient as they sat with tails tucked around their forms.

"Well 'll be damned, she's got 'em trained." Kyle's voice interjected, making Johnny jump a little but his grin grew as he folded his arms. Simon only shook his head.

"Ahh, how sweet." Price popped his head in and his gaze was tender as he laid his eyes on her. His once furrowed brows relaxed at the sight of her petting one of the cats heads' as it headbutted her palm and let her glide over its spine to the tip of its tail. Another rubbing itself against her thigh and a third prancing around her as it lightly brushed its black, bushy tail around her waist.

"Jus' admit it, L.t., 's cute." Johnny nudged Simon with a good natured grin. Simon leered at him for a moment before returning his attention to witness her gawking up at them doe-eyed and caught redhanded. Her lips curled into a charming, girlish grin that was enough to make any mans heart stop. She raised her hand to wave at them and they all chuckled, peering down at her with endearing expressions, well, minus Simon.

He felt his temple twitch as he attempted to glare at her, but even he wasn't impervious to her invisible shackles that she placed around his wrists years ago. His jaw ticked as he walked away from the window, leaving the guys behind to adore her coquettish behaviorisms, mumbling something about her being a 'crazy cat lady'.

"C'mere, y'lil cunt."

He growled, at the skittish calico kitten that refused to come out from behind the rubbish bin. He was growing more impatient by the moment, cursing himself for not having more of a natural disney princess touch the way [name] did with animals, specifically felines. A sharp exhale leaves his nose as he palmed his face. It had been fifteen freakin' minutes since he had decided to walk out in the chilly February night air with a can of cat food to lure out one of the kitties that he had saw her feeding earlier. Frustrating was simply an understatement.

A girlish giggle was heard behind him and his body went rigid.

Bloody fuckin' hell.

"Feedin' that damn cat again, weren't ya?" She mimicked his deep, gravelly Manchester accent. As atrocious as it was, he couldn't help but chuckle at her impersonation of him.

"Startin' to sound like a cunt, aren't I?" He retorted. It was a pleasant, lighthearted banter. She chuckled as she crouched beside his towering figure, and made a kissing noise while rubbing his fingers together at the calico and the kitty meowed in delight as she* trotted over to her and welcomed her pets.

*calicos are almost always female

"You gotta make yourself less menacing, Si. Crouch." It was a gentle command as she continued to lovingly stroke the cat. He sighed as he mimicked her position and glanced over at her to wait for her next instruction. "Go on."

She urged him to repeat her exact gestures. He surveyed the way the calico rubbed against her in envy. She could feel his green little monster eyes on her and it made her lips twitch into a smug smile. "Don't got all night, Si."

He narrowed his eyes at her before--reluctantly--repeating her kissing noises and rubbing motion with his fingers at the calico and she meows at him and quickly rushes over to his hand. Simon's eyes immediately softened at the contact. Warm, pure and loving. There was nothing like the little gesture of a kitten welcoming little pets on the forehead as they rubbed their fluffy cheeks against his fingers, down their spine to the tip of their tail. A relieved sigh emitted from his lips and [name] giggled.

He peered up at her for a moment before looking back down to see a black kitten had joined their little party around the opposite side of his leg, rubbing its pink nose against his thigh. Although it was remarkably menial, Simon's mask had arched upwards, indicating that he was indeed smiling. Another chuckle escaped from her as she relished in the rare sight. Simon petting alley cats he was always complaining about to the guys that [name] would bring around due to her sweet-natured behavior that wouldn't allow her heart to just let these animals to just be restive pests that ransacked their waste bins? Unheard of.

"They're just like you." She mused, as she continued to pet the calico. She laughed knowing that he was raising a curious brow at her, waiting for her to continue before she spoke up again. "Skittish as hell."

A short silence.

"Thinkin' they were more like you." He spoke up, still petting the black kitten. She turned to him waiting for a irascible remark, but he peered up at her with a tender gaze as he lifted his free hand to gently pinch her cheek. "Cute as hell."

Her eyes reamed at his words and his adoring touch. Her heart soared in her chest and she couldn't help the way her lips simpered and the way her cheeks warmed pleasantly. A syrupy sweet moment that she was already etching into her brain, and Kyle was capturing forever in his phone as Price and Johnny snickered, beholding the saccharine and cushy side of Simon that came out more and more around her.

"Send this to me." Johnny crowed, with a wolfish grin.

"Ditto." Price bit back his low chuckle but it slipped when he saw the way [name] leaned her head against Simon's shoulder and he didn't even take a beat before he carded his fingers though her hair.

"Fuckin' hell." Kyle's shoulder's were shaking as he muffled the pure joy running through his system. It was indeed a sight for sore eyes.

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pacifierbby · 20 days

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LUCKY CHARM ✧ ; - LN4

Taglist 𐙚 masterlist

* ੈ✩‧₊ lando always said that you were his lucky charm as you always kissed the top of landos helmet on every race

: ̗̀➛ LN4 x reader

: ̗̀➛ fluffy, kissing

: ̗̀➛ Word count 549

From the beginning of your and Landos's relationship, he always told you you were his good luck charm in every race that you could possibly attend. You just thought that your being there in the stands was the luck he actually needed but he always patted you on the side giving you the go-ahead to kiss the top of his helmet before jumping into his car and giving you the thumbs up with a quiet "thank you my lucky charm". You just always laughed it off. I never believed him. You knew deep down that it was all Lando.

Stopping in front of the McLaren garage you and Lando hand in hand "You okay my love" stepping in front of you so you guys are face to face nodding lightly his hand pushing a small piece of hair away from your face "Just nervous as always" you laughed lightly. Lando always knew about the consequences when joining f1 racing, and so did you when you guys first got together. Every time he invited you to one of his races, the nerves always seemed to bubble up inside of you.

"I'll be okay, you know," looking directly at you through his mirror, "I know Lan, but I always will forever have that feeling inside my gut" getting up from the sofa slowly walking towards where lando was stood placing his arm around your waist pulling you in " I know my love I understand but let's not thing about that ay" rubbing your waist gently. Giving you a kiss on the side of your head, "I should be comforting you , not you comforting me," you laughed, making him smile slightly at you.

Lando was happy that he found someone who cared about him and who just understood that sometimes his work schedule is hard to find the right time to spend with one another, but she always made sure that Lando knew that the facetimes and the spontinatious days or nights out meant something for her and that's what makes lando fall in love with her more and more.

He took his helmet from the shelf, placed it on his head, and tapped the top, signalling to kiss it. She rolled her eyes a little as Lando bent down to her height and pressed a kiss on his helmet. "Thank you, my lucky charm," he said, grabbing her hand and leading her to the McLaren garages.

Watching Lando getting in the McLaren car the technicians and everyone surrounding him. Lando giving you a little wave and slight kiss which you catched and blowing him a kiss back.

You knew one day that you would marry this man and doesn't matter how many times you had to kiss the top of his helmet giving him the luck that he truly needed just to see him on that podium first or third will forever make you proud of him being on the stands celebrating with him and watching him spray the champagne is something you will forever enjoy watching. But when he comes down and celebrates with you for the five minutes he has time before interviews will forever make your heart dance the love that you have for this man is powerful.

Just like Lando told you you are his lucky charm.

#*ੈ✩‧₊˚pacifierbbyworks #formula one #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris smau #lando norris x you #lando norris fanfic #lando norris imagine #mclaren #f1 smau #ln4 fluff #ln4 #ln4 imagine #ln4 x y/n #ln4 x you #lando norris imagines

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yanderenightmare · 4 months

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TW: some nsfw

fem reader

Thinking about what a dumb party girl you are and the poor loser who's stuck tutoring you in all the classes you skip.

You were one of those people who believed everyone to be her friend. The type that went shopping a lot and hung at the mall more days than you bothered showing up to class – a bit of an airhead.

He’d call you a bimbo, but you’re not really known to sleep around – something about finding the right guy.

You opened the door with a smile, “Hi, welcome! Come in~” and pulled him inside by his arm. “I just got out of the shower, so I haven't really gotten dressed – hope you don’t mind!”

You’re in pink from head to toe – a bit excessively, like you’d gone shopping in the little girl’s section, only… you don’t have a little girl’s body… and that top and those shorts are a little too tight on your curves.

“Doesn’t really matter what you wear as long as you got your books.” He answers nonchalantly – as though he isn’t trying hard not to make out the outline of your cunt where it’s cupped so tight in unfairly thin cotton.

“Okay then~” You giggle, interlocking your fingers with his before turning around and leading him in.

His eyes go to the crease of your asscheeks as soon as you turn around, looking at where they peek out from under your bootie shorts – plump squeezable fat jiggling on every peppy step you took in your fluffy bunny slippers as you pull him into the private comfort of your room.

“My parents are out of town, but they left money for pizza – or whatever else you might want~”

You were all alone?

He doesn't know if he likes that or not. Blind trust. Don’t you realize how much bigger he is than you? Doesn’t it cross your mind at all how you’d have to call the police if he decided he didn’t want to leave at the end of the night?

“Pizza’s good.”

You smile, plopping down on your bed. “Okay then, mister Tutor~” Everything in your room is pink as well. “What do you have in store for me?”

You shouldn’t say stuff like that. Gives the wrong impression. You’re lucky he isn’t a bad guy.

“Where’s your books?”

You look a little puzzled for a moment – as though it was an unprompted question. “Right! Uhm…”

You kneel down in front of your bed and drag a dusty stack of textbooks from underneath.

“Here.”

He raises a brow at you.

“Have you ever even opened them?”

You giggle again. “I’ve written my name on the inside like a good girl~”

He struggles hard not to swallow the tightness in his throat – feeling a twitch in his pants at the sight of you sitting on the floor like that.

“Well, it’s a pretty name.”

You look a little disappointed – or maybe it’s just in his head.

In any case, you rise from the floor and sit down in one of the chairs by the desk, which he’d guess had never held any book other than a magazine.

He picks up the textbooks and sits down in the other chair. And it’s odd, staring at himself in the mirror in front of you – but he has to, to see if he looks suspicious – if he’s showing any tells of how badly he wants to touch you.

He opens up the book on the top of the stack, hopes he doesn’t smell like sweat – and you put your hand on the tent in his pants.

The book flaps close, and he jumps out of his chair – and you innocently peer up at him with your long lashes.

Then you say, “What?” as though his reaction surprised you.

He stays silent – blinking once, then twice – mouth dry and out of words.

You slant your head to the side. “Don’t tell me you had your heart set on teaching me math.”

You have a look on your face that makes him feel like begging.

Standing up, you stalk him until the backs of his knees hit the bed, and he falls down on it with a heavy thud – still stunned and stupid, looking at you with wide eyes as you mount him – rubbing that cute tightly-hugged mound upon his bulging crotch – making him groan with cinched brows, watching your pretty manicured fingers as they fiddle with his belt buckle.

“You really want this?” He asks breathlessly, and you stop to eye him – eyes wondering over that cute look of shock riddled all over his face.

You gave him a small catlike smile, bit your lip, and batted your coy doe-eyes down at him – running your hands up his chest until you reached his throat. “I wouldn’t exactly invite a big boy like you over, much less into my bedroom, if I didn’t want it.”

BNHA – Shigaraki, Shinso, Bakugou

JJK – Megumi, Nanami, Choso, Yuuta, Geto, Gojo

HQ – Tsukishima, Kuro

CSM – Aki

DS – Zenitzu, Tanjiro

HxH – Feitan, Leorio

#yandere x reader #yandere #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere smut #yancore #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen #yandere jujutsu kaisen #yandere jjk #jjk smut #bnha smut #yandere bnha #mha smut #my hero smut #yandere csm #yandere aot

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like-a-diamondinthesky · 5 months

Text

five minutes | l.m.h

pairing... bf!minho x gn!reader tags... established relationship, disgustingly fluffy, excessive references to soondoongdori, minho is a cat personified, soft mimo!

operation put your boyfriend to sleep in five minutes is a go.

wc... 1.4k words a/n... ah, yet another domestic fluff fic featuring softy minho. a star specialty! sorry guys this is kinda my fav thing to write ever r u sick of me 😁 anywayz this was inspired by this soft thought and this tiktok like i saw it and immediately thought : lee minho.

ALSO ALSO! HUGE THANK YOU FOR 1K FOLLOWERS! i never would've thought i'd reach this milestone and words couldnt express how incredibly grateful i am for each and every one of you who read and enjoy my works <3 i love you guys thank you so much!

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

Minho turned the doorknob and pushed the front door open, greeting Soonie who stood by the entrance with a tilted head. Shutting the door, he hung his bag on the coat rack and bent down to pet his beloved cat’s chin.

“Hi, baby,” the cat nuzzled his head into Minho’s palm and circled around his arm, “where are your brothers, hm?”

Meow… Soonie walked off to the living room as if to answer Minho’s question. A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he followed his cat toward the faint nose of your favorite series playing on the TV.

When he entered the room, Minho saw your figure strewn lazily across the couch. Dori was cuddled up against your chest and Soonie hopped up to join Doongie by your feet. His heart warmed at the sight of his loves all huddled together.

“Honey, I’m home,” Minho grabbed your attention with his gentle, sing-song tone, a cheeky smile plastered on his face.

You switched your attention from the screen in front of you to the man standing in the doorway, returning his smile and giving a small wave. “Hi, my love. How was your day?”

Minho padded over to you, scooped Dori up against his chest, and settled himself where the cat had previously taken solace in your arms.

“It was alright,” he said, scooching backward to press his back firm against your front. “Tiring, as usual, but it's fine.”

Though he couldn't see it, you nodded in acknowledgment and pressed a soft kiss to his head. You brought one hand up behind his ear to scratch at his scalp, something you had found he enjoyed.

“Do you want to go to bed already? It is pretty late.” From its place above the TV, the clock read 10:37 PM. “Maybe we should move our little cuddle session to the bedroom.”

Minho sighed and shook his head. “But, I'm already so comfy here. Plus, you wouldn't dare disturb the cats, would you?”

“Please, remember the last time we slept on the couch the whole night? I don’t think we want that happening again.”

“Y/n,” Minho called your name, dragging out the last syllable. “My back hurts so much! Remind me why we stayed on the couch again.”

“I told you we should have moved to the bed! But you wouldn’t listen to me,” you snickered at your boyfriend from the kitchen while you continued to whisk a couple of eggs for your breakfast.

You set the bowl down on the counter and walked over to Minho who was still lying on the couch. When you came into his sight, he made a show of stretching his arms and legs, akin to a cat, accompanied by a few exaggerated groans.

“I don’t think I can get up at all today. I should just call in sick,” Minho draped an arm over his face, letting the other fall limp over the edge of the cushion.

“Don’t you have an important meeting today? I doubt your boss would appreciate you missing that on account of an 'ouchy' back.”

“Well, maybe if you gave me more cuddles, I’d feel a bit better.” Minho peeked at you from under his arm, proposing this cute, yet slightly impractical, solution. “Unless you want me to miss work and stay at home with you today.”

“Alright, you big baby.” Rolling your eyes, you moved to straddle Minho’s lap, leaning forward to place a gentle kiss on his forehead. Now chest to chest, you wrapped an arm around his shoulders, letting the other one snake up his neck to play with the hairs at his nape.

The time you spent wrapped in each other’s warmth turned from seconds to minutes, the comfortable silence lulling you back to sleep. Minutes turned to hours, leaving Minho’s meeting unattended and the scrambled eggs forgotten on the kitchen counter.

“Ugh, at least give me five more minutes,” Minho offered as he continued to stroke Dori’s back, drawing a vibrating purr from the cat. “I don’t wanna get up yet.”

“Oh, come on, you have to brush your teeth anyways. Now get your lazy bum off the couch so we can cuddle on the bed.” You grabbed the throw pillow from behind your back and swung it at Minho’s side, accidentally startling Dori in the process. The cat jumped out of the man’s arms, causing him to throw a frown over his shoulder.

“Now look what you did! You’re scaring our babies.” Finally, Minho stood up, offering you his hand to pull you up as well. You met his hand with your own and anchored yourself up, giving him a sheepish smile.

“Oops.” You shrugged and skipped off to the bedroom, leaving your boyfriend with your three cats in the living room.

“Unbelievable.” Minho took a few steps towards the bathroom, paused, and turned back to look at his cats. “Well, are you coming with me or not?”

While your boyfriend finished his night routine, you lay on your shared bed and grinned to yourself. Operation Put Your Boyfriend to Sleep in Five Minutes was a go. You knew Minho was tired, and you wanted to send him off into a good night’s sleep in the most loving way you could.

The hallway light switched off as Minho opened the door to your bedroom, sporting a playful frown. It was time for Step One: Put him in a blanket.

“Come here, baby,” you peeled the duvet back and patted the space on the bed right next to you, beckoning your pouty boyfriend over to you. “Let’s get you to sleep, yeah?”

Trudging over to his side of the bed, Minho slid onto the mattress and pulled the heavy duvet over his body. Freshly washed, the warm, lavender-scented blanket immediately soothed his senses.

“You could’ve at least stayed with me while I brushed my teeth,” Minho continued to pout as he turned on his side to face you, “and, I don’t know, given me a back hug or something.”

Though his tone was playful, you recognized the look in Minho’s gaze. He yearned for your comfort, but he didn’t know how to ask for it. Reaching over, you cupped his face, gently caressing his cheek with your thumb. You peppered a few pecks on the corners of his mouth, kissing his pout away. Perfect timing for Step Two: Give reassuring pets.

“I’m here now, it’s okay.” His hair was soft in between your fingers as you threaded them through the fluffy locks. They smelled faintly of his coconut shampoo.

Tired, Minho let out a yawn, nose scrunched and eyelids shut. He leaned into your touch, humming contently.

Faintly, the door creaked open and you could hear light thuds on the carpeted floor, followed by a slightly louder thud on the bed as Doongie entered the bedroom and jumped up to join you. He stepped all over Minho’s body—drawing out a quiet yelp from the man beside you. You giggled as Doongie finally plopped down on Minho’s pillow, snuggling against the top of his head. This brought you to Step Three: Tuck him in.

With your boyfriend lying under the covers, you hooked one leg over him, moving your hand on his head to tuck it into your neck, cradling his body with no intent to stop any time soon.

For a second, the universe felt still. It was as though the ever-rotating hands on the clock had stopped moving, pausing to witness this intimate moment between you and Minho; as if even the angels in the skies above didn’t want this sweet gesture to end.

That was until Minho decided to take matters into his own hands and execute Step Four: Put one arm out for temperature regulation.

“It's too warm!” Minho whined into your neck, breaking the silence, and removed one arm from under the blanket, exposing it to the cold air. “Ah, that's better.”

He turned on his side and wrapped his now free arm around the small of your back, pulling you closer to him, if that were even physically possible.

Seeing your bodies pressed flush against each other, Soonie—who was previously lounging at the foot of the bed—crawled up the sheets and nuzzled into the barely-there gap between you and Minho, with Dori following suit.

Within five minutes of lying down, the night ended with your small family cuddled together on the warm, cozy bed, basking in each other’s comfort.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

taglist: @kflixnet @jinnixxn @elllisaaa @captainchrisstan @laylasbunbunny @starsandrqindrops @kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy @forlix @mires-empire @quesweebs

comments, reblogs, and feedback are appreciated! © like-a-diamondinthesky 2023

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onlyhuis · 8 days

Text

do not disturb

member — junhui x f reader genre — smut, a little humor, college au word count — 2.6k synopsis — everybody on campus knows that jun and his innocent little girlfriend are too shy for pda... or are they? warnings — description of female anatomy, semi-public sex (private room in a library), oral (m receiving), messy blowjob, throat fucking, cum in mouth, kinda mean hard dom!jun, degradation, name calling (slut, bitch), reader wears a skirt, brief cameo from hoshi & chan as their group project partners hehe notes — requested by @jaemlonfz — this was very fun to write lmao! thanks to my lovely @onlymingyus for reading over for me. this was a bit crazier than what i normally write but i always write fluffy sex so it was fun to return to the wild stuff for once. if you enjoyed this please let me know in a reblog or an ask! :)

“so, just finish your guys’ section of the slides and text the group chat when you’re done, ‘kay?”

jun smiles at chan and you nod, hunched over the table writing notes in your planner.

“great… i think we're done here, then.” soonyoung grins, leaning back in his chair to stretch. “you guys got any fun plans for the weekend?”

jun looks at his watch, then glances at you. “yeah… not really. we actually gotta head out,” he says with a sigh. “reserved one of the rooms upstairs to study for our calc final on monday.”

you hum, giving the other two a pained look, as if you wish you could stay longer.

“man, that sucks.”

chan nods in agreement with him. “yeah. well, good luck. see you guys tuesday?”

you nod and turn to leave with jun trailing behind you, waving over your shoulder as you both head towards the elevator.

“y’know, i thought this would be a lot worse,” soonyoung says after the doors shut and you and jun disappear inside, shoving a folder full of loose papers into his bag. “i thought they’d be, like, more into pda.”

chan shakes his head as he closes his laptop. “nah, they’re too shy. everybody knows they’ve been dating forever, but i don’t think i’ve ever seen them do more than hold hands. they’d probably explode if they even thought about anything else.”

“yeah, you’re right.” soonyoung shrugs and slings his backpack over his shoulder.

chan stands up, swiping his hand across the table to brush away the eraser shavings from their study session with a sigh. “i’m just glad the semester’s almost over and we don’t have to worry about this anymore.”

“ugh, i know. we could’ve gotten stuck with jihoon the perfectionist,” soonyoung grumbles.

“or jeonghan… i don’t think i’ve seen him come to class once after the first day.”

“she said attendance was optional though, i don’t blame him.”

chan pushes his chair in. “anyway… hey, speaking of jeonghan, are you going to sig pi’s party tonight? heard he was gonna bring the keg.”

“hell yeah.” he gestures to his backpack as they walk out the library entrance. “it’s friday, i’m gonna ignore this all weekend and do it all the night before."

chan laughs. “same. but i'm sure the other two will have theirs done by the end of the day.”

“mm, harder, jun— fuck!”

you whine as jun slams his hips into you, your back pressed against the whiteboard on the wall and your leg wrapped around his waist. he groans and buries his head in your chest, scraping his teeth over your skin where your breasts spill out of your tank top.

“dirty little slut,” he rasps, voice low and rough as his hands tighten around your hips for leverage. “so needy, you can’t go ten fucking minutes without having my cock inside you, hm? wanted me to fuck you right there on the table, in front of everybody in the library? in front of chan and soonyoung?”

you whimper and squeeze his bicep, remembering from just minutes ago when he'd buried his fingers in your aching pussy as soon as the elevator doors clicked shut, pressing your lips messily against his in a pathetic clash of tongues and teeth.

you already knew today wasn't going to be a very productive day as soon as you felt his hand on your thigh under the table. to anyone else you just looked studious and focused on the group project. you weren't known for being especially outgoing, so no one batted an eye when you barely spoke more than a few words the entire meeting.

but only jun knew how unceremoniously quiet you were being today, keeping your mouth firmly shut and struggling not to let out a whiny moan as his fingers smoothed over your soft skin, inching higher up beneath your skirt. only jun could feel the burning warmth radiating between your legs, tracing his fingers gently, teasingly, over your pussy.

it took mere minutes before your panties were soaked through completely, and you finally had to kick jun's leg under the table and get him to make some excuse to get you both out of there. it wasn't technically a lie; he really did have a study room reserved and you really did have calculus homework to review before your final, but it wasn't as urgent as he had made it seem to your group partners.

what was urgent, on the other hand, was your throbbing pussy and how desperately you needed him. but luckily for you he was equally as desperate and immediately gave you what you needed as soon as you'd locked yourselves in the reserved room.

with every snap of his hips his glasses slip further and further down his nose, little beads of sweat trickling down his temple from the force.

his hands slide down your sides and settle below your ass, and before you know it suddenly your back isn't against the wall anymore and he's lifting you up, dropping you on the rectangular wooden table behind you. you yelp and wrap your arms around his neck for balance, but he doesn't seem to notice or care as he grips the backs of your thighs, his cock still nestled inside you as he turns around and sets you down in one fluid motion.

he not-so-gently lays your back against the table, his hands on your hips keeping you flush against him and wrapping your legs around his waist. once he's satisfied with the change he leans over you and cups your cheek with one hand, pulling you into him to meet your lips in a sloppy, heated kiss.

he starts to pick up the pace again, slowly pulling his hips back before pushing into you, building up each thrust harder, deeper, rougher. your back slides against the smooth surface of the table but his hand on your jaw keeps your head from moving too much, making sure your gaze is fixed on him and only him.

“you wanna cum, angel?” he breathes against your mouth, his lips hot and slick with saliva as your walls squeeze tighter around him. “have you earned it?”

you whimper and try to lean your head back but his grip is firm, not letting you move.

he lets out a low noise like a growl that seems almost disappointed, but you know he's enjoying this just as much as you are. “eyes on me, sweetheart. don't make me ask again.”

“p-please,” you gasp, and he rewards your answer with a pointed thrust. “please, jun, so c-close—”

he grins and swoops down to cut you off with a kiss, clearly pleased.

“cum all over this fucking table like the needy little bitch you are.”

you gasp and clench around him with another moan, nails digging into his back as you feel yourself beginning to crest over the edge.

your eyelids flutter and your head lolls back but jun doesn't comment on it, never faltering his pace and letting you ride out the waves. he's all bark and no bite, and as soon as you give the indication that you're cumming it's like a switch is flipped in his brain and all he can think about is how to make it better, stronger, more intense and pleasurable for you.

his hand shifts to the back of your head, his fingers gently digging into your scalp to support your neck as he keeps you propped up against the table. he revels in the way your body trembles for him, because of him, your lips gone slack against his mouth and unable to even return his kisses as he continues to slam his cock into you.

his thrusts start to grow shallower as you tighten around him until he's forced to bring himself to a stop. you let out a whimper as he lays you gently down flat against the table, giving you a second to rest though his cock stays buried inside you, still hard and throbbing.

the reprieve doesn't last long though, because as soon as you've recovered enough to lift yourself back up onto your elbows he pulls you closer with a barely audible groan of your name. he kisses you greedily, swallowing your moans and replacing them with some of his own, his hand on the back of your neck keeping you pressed against him as he hovers over you.

he breaks away for air, his breathing labored and his lips swollen from kissing you so hard. he finally pulls out of you and you let out a low whine at the loss, your thighs trembling as he steps backwards.

with a gentle but firm hand he pulls you onto the floor, dropping you onto your knees. he pulls out one of the chairs from the table and sinks down into it, leaning back against the back of the chair and spreading his legs wide.

before he even has to ask you crawl across the floor over to him, kneeling between his legs with a whimper. he lets out a breathy laugh, sighing as he pats his thigh for you to come closer.

“you got yours, sweetheart, now return the favor.” he glances down at you and the look in his eyes sends a shiver down your spine, the corner of his mouth turned up in an expectant smirk. “you want me to cum in your mouth or in your pussy?”

you hum but don't even bother with a reply, both of you already knowing what you'll pick. you settle on the floor, placing your hands on his thighs and sliding up his legs. with a sigh he weaves his fingers into your hair encouragingly.

you wrap your lips around his tip and immediately moan at the familiar feeling of the weight on your tongue. you slowly take him deeper until you gag, tears already beginning to form in your eyes before you pull off of him teasingly. you open your mouth wider and run your tongue along the veins on the underside of his cock, taking your time to let your saliva coat his length. you can still taste yourself on him, the salty bitterness of your juices from when you came around him earlier.

you guide him back into your mouth and start to bob your head, letting out a whine the deeper you take him. spit leaks from the corners of your mouth, dripping down his shaft and pooling at the base of his cock.

you can barely fit half his length down your throat, but still you move your head up and down so enthusiastically, your hands twisting and jerking the area where your lips can't reach.

if jun wasn't so distracted at how good your mouth feels he might have laughed. his sweet, innocent girlfriend sucking him off in the library, with the most adorable look on your face as you struggle to take his cock, your nose all scrunched up in concentration. your skirt lays fanned out across your lap, stopping short just above your knees as you sit on the floor.

you swirl your tongue around his tip and lift your eyes to meet his, warmth flooding your chest when you see how truly fucked-out his expression is. you move your hands, trailing your fingers down to cup his balls as you press your other hand flat against his stomach for leverage.

the noises coming out of your mouth are almost enough to convince him that you're getting off on this more than he is, if he couldn't feel it getting harder and harder to hold off his own orgasm. he slows down for just a second to wipe away a tear with his thumb before he grabs your hands and places them on his thighs.

“you know what to do, angel,” jun groans softly and you look up at him and nod, tapping your fingers against his leg.

once you've given the signal he works his fingers into your hair and pulls you down hard, grabbing the back of your head and fucking your throat without mercy.

you let out a muffled gasp in surprise but quickly become accustomed to his rough thrusts. you struggle to relax your jaw, moaning and drooling around his cock but your whimpering only spurs him on more as he bucks his hips into your mouth.

he groans out continuous praises, his voice suddenly growing hushed as if he's afraid someone might hear, though your combined moans when he was fucking you earlier were by far louder than he is now.

despite jun's incredible stamina you can feel the tension building in his muscles, his thighs strained as he snaps up into your mouth, and you moan around his length to try and get him closer to the edge. tears continue to stream down your face as you hollow your cheeks, even now still trying to take him deeper.

“fuck, baby— so fucking good… just—” he grunts, falling silent for a moment before he releases into your mouth with a long, low whine.

you squeeze jun's thighs to ground yourself as he floods your mouth with cum, feeling his cock jump and twitch against your lips with each rope he pumps onto your tongue.

your jaw aches and your legs are wobbly as jun carefully pulls you to your feet, setting you on his lap with a soft groan. he rubs his palm soothingly over your thigh, slipping just under the hem of your skirt.

he glances at the table, where your panties lie discarded on the floor next to your backpacks. jun wraps one arm around your waist to keep you secure on his lap and leans down to pick them up.

“you need these back, or can i keep them?” he asks as he holds them up in front of you, a hint of mischievousness in his tone but his voice softer now.

you grin and shake your head, and he leans forward to kiss your cheek as he balls them up and shoves them into his cardigan pocket before pulling your tank top back up over your breasts.

“good. now, wanna go home?”

the elevator ride back down to the lobby is decidedly calmer. you let out a whine when jun squeezes a handful of your ass, letting his hand linger on your cheek for just a second too long before the bell dings and the shiny silver doors slide open. you tug your skirt down as far as it'll go as you walk towards the exit, and even though jun's standing behind you and you can't see his face, you know he's wearing the subtlest of smirks.

you breathe a little sigh of relief once you finally get outside of the building and into the spring sunshine, standing in the parking lot waiting next to the passenger side door of jun's car for him to unlock it.

the relief doesn't last long, of course, when jun puts his hand back on your thigh as he pulls the car into reverse and backs out of the lot.

and by the time you get back to his tiny apartment, it doesn't take long for the rest of your clothes to end up on his floor and you bouncing on his lap. the biggest relief isn't your orgasms, or even his: it's the privacy. because now you know you won't be disturbed.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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aothotties · 6 months

Text

Miss Me?

Pairing: BabyDaddy!Connie x Black!Reader

Warnings: unprotected sex, choking, hair pulling, pet names, Connie speaks spanish, Connie is a panty thief, multiple orgasms, fingering, mirror sex, mating press, cream pie, super fluffy at the end.

Word count: 4.3k

-----

“Cairo please stay still so mama can change your diaper, your dad will be here any minute.” You plead with your toddler, rushing to put on his diaper.

“Damn it Connie” You mumble at the sound of your doorbell ringing, of course he shows up early when your hands are full.

“Mama, papa’s at the door.” Your oldest, Cj, says as he eats his snack at the kitchen table.

“Have you tried opening the door from papa?” You ask him, trying and failing to hide your sarcasm.

Your son sighs out dramatically and pauses his Ipad. He drags his feet to the front door and opens it.

“Cj! Que paso papa?” You hear your son’s voice perk up as he and his father start speaking Spanish.

“Your Spanish is magnificent papa, I see your mama is teaching you well?” He looks over at you and stifles a laugh while you wrestle with Cairo.

“I’m trying to. There! Go ahead and be free.” You huff and lean back on your arms, tilting your head to the side with a smile on your face as he toddles over to his father.

“Ven aqui hijo!” He exclaims, immediately scooping the small boy up into his arms as he kisses all over his face.

You stand up from your spot on the floor and grab your phone to check the time. You have a date tonight and who better to watch your boys than their father.

“Mama you didn’t give papa a hug yet” Your son points out, hiding a sneaky smile behind his hand as he giggles.

“He’s right mami, you’re the only one who hasn’t given me a hug.” He sets your younger son down and walks over to you slowly with his arms open wide.

“You guys think you’re so sneaky don’t you?” You look between the both of them and playfully roll your eyes.

You walk over to Connie and wrap your arms around his waist, you let out a gasp when he tightens the hug and rubs his hands up and down your back. You can't exactly explain it, but the way he’s hugging you kind of made you miss him being around.

“Make sure your little boyfriend has you back at a decent time.” He pulls away from you and gives you a smile.

“Okay one, Tyler is not my boyfriend he’s my work friend. And two I will let you know how the night goes when I come back.” You give him a quick kiss on the cheek then head to your room to get ready.

After about 45 minutes you finally finish getting yourself together. You make your way to the living room and swing your purse onto your shoulder.

--- “Alright boys, I’ll be back by 11. If you need anything ask your father, and Connie if you need anything you know who to dial.” You dig through your bag for your keys and look up to see your sons and their father staring at you.

“What’s the problem?” You ask, rolling your eyes and resting a hand on your hip.

“Mommy it’s cold out you should wear a sweater” Cj says, walking over to the coat rack.

“Yeah mami, you should really put on a sweater. We wouldn’t want you to catch a cold now, would we?” He asks, eyeing you from head to toe as you apply your lip gloss.

“It’s 78 degrees, you guys are doing too much” You check yourself over again and grab your keys.

“Have fun!” Connie and the boys say in unison which brings a smile to his face.

“Alright, who wants to watch scary movies and eat ice cream?!”

~~~

Connie quietly backs out of the boys room and pulls the door shut as carefully as he can.

“Finally, those boys can play all night long.” Connie mumbles to himself and turns to walk down the steps.

He stops in front of your door and stares at the shiny knob in front of him. He rubs his hand over his face and steps inside what used to be your shared bedroom and looks around.

He chuckles to himself as the memories of you two in this room take over his mind, so many nights full of laughter, tears, moans and whimpers. Nights he wishes you two can hopefully have again.

A red fabric catches his eyes and he raises an eyebrow as he squats down to retrieve the piece of cloth. He unfolds the fabric and is surprised at the sight of your skimpy panties in his hand.

He stuffs the panties into his back pocket and can’t help but fantasize about the things he’s going to do to and with the pretty underwear. He decides to leave the room now before you come home and catch him snooping.

Although that wouldn’t be such a terrible thing, he always points out how sexy you look when you’re pissed off.

He jogs down the steps and out to your back patio, he makes himself comfortable and pulls out a bag of weed and a pack of wraps.

“Now for my favorite part of the night” He says out loud, talking to nobody but himself.

He opens up the wrap and dumps the contents out into your little trash bin next to the coffee table. Connie starts focusing so hard that he doesn’t notice you stepping inside the house.

You kick your shoes off and throw your bag onto the sofa nearby, you look around the house and shake your head at the sight of him outside. You can’t help but smile at the sight, pushing down the memories trying to come back up.

“Are you going to stand there and be pretty or come and join me?” He asks, not needing to turn around to know you’re watching him.

“I’ve always hated when you do that.” You cross your arms and sit next to him on the sofa.

“Yeah you hate a lot of the things I do, how was your little date?” He says, lighting up the blunt.

“I see where Cj gets his listening problems from, it was not a date. But we had drinks, he bought me dinner and we just talked.” You shrug your shoulders and take the blunt from his hands.

“You two just talked? You’re all dressed up all pretty and you just talked.” He makes a face and nods his head as if he’s trying to understand.

You cough up some smoke when he says the word pretty and pass the blunt back to him.

“Connie, you think I’m pretty?” you ask teasingly, moving closer to where he’s seated.

“I didn’t say all that, I said you dressed up all pretty.” He pokes your nose and takes a long drag, holding the smoke in his mouth as he leans his head back.

Your eyes trail up and down his figure and you can’t up but bite your lip at the sight of his tattoos. Your body moves before you can think and you trace your finger over your favorite piece on the side of his throat.

Your name, you both were so young when he got the tattoo. He asked you for a suggestion and you jokingly said your name, but to him he wanted nothing more than to do it.

He would do absolutely anything to make you happy, in all honesty all he wants to do now is make you happy.

“If you didn’t think I was attractive you wouldn’t have gotten my name tattooed on your neck.” You say to him as you trace your finger over the red ink.

He laces his fingers with yours and rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

“You know I think you’re the sexiest woman alive, you gave me two boys. To me you can’t get any more gorgeous than you already are, yet somehow you always do.” He kisses your knuckles and sets your hand down.

You feel your face warm up as he speaks and his compliment has you at a loss for words.

“It’s getting late so I should head back to the apartment. Ony is gonna get into my stash if I’m not quick enough” You nod your head and stand up behind him.

“I’ll lock the door behind you” you give him a small smile and he walks back inside. You follow behind him and walk towards the front door.

“Thank you for watching the boys tonight, tell Sasha I said hey” To your surprise he just chuckles dryly and rolls his eyes.

“Yeah that ended two months ago, I guess I forgot to tell you” he throws his hood on and puts his hands in his pocket and shrugs.

“Connie what the hell happened!” You slap him on the arm and wait for him to explain. He lets out a sigh in annoyance and rubs his hands down his face.

“It just didn’t work out. We fought way too much, and she kept saying crazy shit that just didn’t make sense.” He keeps his answer short to avoid diving too much into detail about the situation.

Crazy shit like what?” You cross your arms and stare at him in anticipation.

“She thinks I’m still in love with you, I told her I wasn’t anymore. She called me a fucking liar, I got mad and yelled then that was the end of it”

You’re taken aback by his statement and look around the room awkwardly. You couldn’t help but wonder if what she said was somewhat true. He gets ready to head out the front door but stops when you speak.

“Connie, are you still in love with me?” You quietly ask, walking up to him.

He freezes in his tracks and refuses to make eye contact with you. He lets the door knob go and turns to face you, leaning on the door as he looks at you.

“Why does it matter if I do or not? What’s gonna change between us if I say yes?” He pushes off the door and walks over to where you’re standing. Your stomach twirls at how close he gets to you and you twiddle with your thumbs.

“Connie…” You step as close as you can and pull him towards you by his jacket.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish mami, that’s why we got Cairo now.” He wraps an arm around your waist and stares deeply into your eyes.

You close the gap between you both and press your lips against his eagerly. He drops his bag to the floor and wraps both of his arms around your waist, pulling you in as much as he could. You push the hood off of his head and run your fingers over his hair, basking at how much it’s grown these past months.

“U-upstairs, take me to the bedroom.” You say against his lips, shrieking when he picks you up by your legs. You cover your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh as he quickly makes his way to the bedroom, almost tripping up the steps.

“Be careful or both of us are sleeping alone tonight.” You threaten playfully and he pinches your ass in return.

“Yeah, in your wildest dreams cariña. You already got me in here and it’s gonna be hard to get me to go away this time.” He pushes you up against the door and connects your lips again. He grabs your cheeks to deepen the kiss and slides his tongue inside your mouth eagerly. His hands travel down your body slowly, and he pulls the tie open on your shirt.

You let out a sigh as your breast fall from the shirt, moaning into his mouth as his large, warm hands massage your nipples. You bite down on his bottom lip as he tugs on your nipples, he rubs over the buds to soothe the sting.

“Oh baby you’re just as gorgeous as I remember.” He pulls you off the door and lays you on your bed, looking down at you with a glint in his eyes.

“Connie don’t just stare at me, you know I get self conscious.” You whine and pull him down on top of you by his shirt.

He chuckles at your desperation and pulls his shirt off to reveal his tattoos and muscular figure, your fingers absent-mindedly gravitate towards his abdomen.

“You want to touch them baby?” He asks teasingly, taking your wrist in his hand to place on his body. You trail your hand down his body and lick over your lips.

“You know what I was thinking, mi amor?” He pushes you back on the bed completely and starts to pull your jeans off your legs.

“Now that the tattoo parlor is up and running, I think you should finally let me put some ink on you baby.” Your panties come down with your jeans and he bites his lip.

“Yeah papi? I think I’ll let you put your name on me this time.” You say, enjoying the idea of his name on your body.

His head drops down between your thighs and he nips at the skin, wrapping an arm around your thigh.

“I think imma put it here, right next to these pretty stretch marks over here.” He rubs his hands up and down your thighs ever so gently, sucking on the skin until a mark forms.

“N-no, you know I hate-” You're cut off by a tattooed hand wrapping around your throat.

“I see you’re still as hard headed as ever, huh?” He asks, picking you up and moving over to the middle of your bed.

“W-what are you doing?” You ask, looking back up at him in confusion.

“Since you still don’t listen, I’m going to have to show you how beautiful you are. Remember baby, that’s the whole reason I even put the mirror up.” He kisses your cheek and spreads your thighs apart.

“Que bonita, no?” He asks, taking two of his slender fingers to open your lips up to him.

A low groan leaves his lips at the sight of your sweet hole clenching around nothing. You let out a whine and nod at his question, he smiles and presses a kiss to your cheek.

“Good job baby.” He praises, his lips leaving soft kisses down your neck.

He rewards you by sliding two of his fingers into your needy cunt slowly. You arch your back and let out a low moan. Connie takes his free hand and slaps it over your mouth.

“You wanna wake the boys up mami?” He asks, smirking at the way you clench around his fingers.

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut as his fingers meet with your g-spot. You feel your orgasm creeping its way up your body as you get closer.

“I remember what that face means, you gonna come on my fingers mi amor?”” He asks, speeding up the pace of his fingers, curling them upwards to draw you closer to your release.

The coil in your belly snaps and you come on his fingers quickly, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. Connie takes your cheeks in his hand and pulls you in for a deep kiss while you spasm around his fingers, he rubs your clit with his thumb and you whimper in his mouth.

“T-too much, I want to feel you inside of me. Please papi, I need it so bad.” You beg, he looks down at you and bites his lip at how whiny you sound.

“You want me to fuck you princesa? Want me to fuck you until you can’t speak, you want me to breed that sweet little pussy?” You moan at the thought of him filling you up with his cum and nod your head.

He chuckles and bends you forward so you can see the mirror, you bite your lip when his sweatpants and underwear get pulled down his legs. His cock is standing upright, the tip is red and already leaking precum.

“Watch me in the mirror, okay?” He rubs a hand down your back and you nod in return. He gives himself a few strokes before he guides himself inside your pussy.

You let out a gasp as he continues pushing himself inside, he makes sure to be slow and careful as he eases himself in.

“Holy shit baby, you’re so fucking tight. Relax for me baby, I know you remember having me in there. It’s only been a few months.” He leans down and kisses the side of your forehead.

“A-ah it’s been six months!” You let out a loud moan into the sheets below you as he bottoms out inside of you. He throws his head back in pleasure and grabs your hips, he grits his teeth as he resist the urge to immediately start pounding into you.

“Well then we have lots of catching up to do. L-let me know when you want me to move, I don’t want to hurt you.” He tells you, gently trailing his fingers up your back, needing some sort of distraction to prevent himself from fucking you like a wild animal.

“It’s okay” You lift your head up from the sheets and make eye contact with him in the mirror. He flashes you his bright smile and leans down to press a kiss to your lips. His hands make their way to your hips as his own start to form a steady rhythm. You grip the sheets as his tip kisses your cervix each time he fucks into you.

“Connie!” You gasp, your chest pressing down further into the mattress. Gripping the end of the bed like your entire life depends on it.

“Fuckkkk, missed this tight pussy so much baby girl.” He digs his nails into your skin and forces your ass back onto him. Your moans turn into whimpers as you feel your second orgasm creep up.

“‘m gonna cum papi, I'm coming.” You warn him, he picks up his thrust and rolls his hips as you come around him for the second time tonight. Your head falls down in exhaustion and you feel his hand wrap around your chin, forcing you to face the mirror.

“Is it too much baby? You know our safe word never changed?” He teases, his hips begin to pick up their pace, you cry out in pleasure the deeper he fucks into your cunt.

“N-no! I-I can ngh…I can take it.” You look at him in the mirror and he can’t help but bite his lip and tangle his hand in your hair. He’s got you flushed against his chest as he fucks you like it’s the last time he ever will.

“Yeah? You sure you can take all of me baby?” He pulls your head back more and smiles down at your fucked out expression, smashing his lips against yours passionately.

“We’ll see about that won’t we?” He pulls out of you and you whine in protest. You’re about to complain, but he quickly flips you onto your back and places each one of his arms next to your head so he’s looking down at you. You feel your face warm up at how intensely his brown eyes stare back into yours.

“I missed you.” You confess, rubbing your fingers up and down his tattooed arms.

He presses a gentle kiss to your lips and lifts one of your legs up, taking advantage of the new position and immediately pushing into you again. You instinctively wrap your legs around his waist and he finds himself fucking into you again.

“I missed you so much, sweet girl, so. fucking. much.” He groans between each thrust and you arch your back in pleasure, his tip immediately finds your g-spot and you feel a warm sensation build up in your lower belly.

Connie took your legs from around his waist and pushes your thighs up to your chest. You go to let out a loud moan, but are interrupted by Connie wrapping his ringed fingers around your throat.

“I know it feels good baby, but you’re gonna wake the boys up.” He gives you an evil smirk and picks up the speed of his hips. He parts your lips with his thumb and slides it between your lips.

You wrap your lips around his thumb and look up at him with teary eyes, holding back a scream as he continues his assault on your pussy.

The sound of heavy breathing and wet skin slapping against each other fills the room. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and your jaw goes slack as Connie continuously pounds into your cunt.

“Look at you, my sweet girl. No one else can ever see you like this, entiendes?” He asks, you try and respond but are too fucked out to even form a proper sentence.

Connie's fingers tighten around your throat and his thumb finds its way to your overstimulated clit, he rubs quick circles on your nub and your eyes go cross.

“I asked you a question sweetie.” He leans your face down and forces you to look at him.

“Y-yo entiendo papi, o-only belong to you. Fuck fuck! papi I’m gonna come! P-promise I’m only yours! Ah fuck” You say urgently, your pussy clenches around his dick and you feel your climax approaching. This one definitely feels stronger and more intense than the other two.

Connie lets out a loud groan as your pussy clenches around his shaft, his hips start to lose their rhythm as he gets closer to his orgasm.

“Fuck yes that’s it cariña, I wanna feel you come all over me. Give me one more baby.” He bends down and presses a hard kiss to your lips, his hips buck into yours rapidly and he can’t hold on any longer.

“Fuck Y/N, voy a venir bebe! Want me to fill that sweet pussy up and put another baby in you? Think we should try for a girl this time, don’t you think?” You nod your head desperately, and he rubs your clit with his thumb again

You bite down on his bottom lip as your final orgasm runs throughout your body. Your eyes squeeze shut and all you can see is pure white, your entire body starts convulsing. Your essence shoots out and splashes against his abs, down both of your legs, and onto the bed sheets below.

You come so hard your pussy sucks Connie in deeper and he squeezes the skin of your thighs as he comes deep inside of you. He moans against your lips and you let out a sigh as you feel his come fills you up.

“You okay? You looked like you almost passed out.” He presses his forehead against your and smiles at you while you regain consciousness.

“Y-yeah I’m okay. Also, i feel like now is a good time to tell you that Tyler is a happily married man with no interest in me at all.” You inform him and he rolls his eyes.

“Happily married men can still want to fuck you if the oppurtunity allows.” He retorts and you hold back a laugh.

“Even gay men Connie?” You raise an eyebrow and the look on his face is absolutely priceless.

“Y’know there are in fact exceptions to the rule.” He mumbles into the crook of your neck.

“I really am sorry about you and Sasha.” You run your fingers over his hair and rub his cheek with your thumb.

“Don’t sweat it, she was right in the end and I just didn’t want to admit it. I’ve loved you since we were 16, just cause we break up doesnt mean I can just give up everything.” He leans on one hand and you sit up to kiss him in response

“I love you Connie, I want you to come back home with us. No more fighting okay?” He nods and pulls you into his chest, rubbing his hands over your back.

“No more fighting baby, I promise. From now on we’ll only argue about dinner, what movie to watch, and what outfits we’ll put the boys in.” He says jokingly, you laugh at his antics and nod in return.

“If it’s okay with you, I’m gonna pull out before you get me all excited again.” He warns, you whimper at the feeling of emptiness once he pulls out of you. Your eyes widen when his fingers take the place of his dick, you look at him in shock and he feigns innocence.

“Well we wanna make sure you get pregnant, right?”

…..

“Okay Mrs. Springer, when you feel the next contraction I want you to push as hard as you can.” The doctor says and you nod your and begin to push through the pain and pressure.

“There we go baby you got it! Keep going Y/N!” Connie encourages you, holding one of your hands in both of his.

A small cry breaks out into the air and the doctor guides your baby out safely, she holds the baby up and you fall onto your back.

“It’s a girl!” Connie exclaims and instantly bursts into tears, you can’t help but also shed tears as she’s laid on your chest.

Connie places multiple kisses all over your face and looks at the new baby in front of you.

“She’s gorgeous Connie, she’s so perfect.” You sniffle and giggle when you make eye contact with the small baby.

“She sure is, she looks just like her mama. My sweet little Cecelia.” You give him a large smile and nod in agreement.

“Cecelia is perfect, my little Cece.” You giggle at the nickname and rock the small girl in your arms as she whines.

“I love you Connie.” You say, rubbing your thumb over his cheek.

“I love you more, mi vida.”

Ari

#aot smut #aot #aot x black reader #aot scenarios #aot x reader #aot imagines #aot x female reader #connie x reader smut #connie springer

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gentaro-kinniecom · 4 months

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Love and deepspace hcs!☆

Characters: Rafayel, Xavier and Zayne

C/w: none! Fluffy head canons for the main love interests in game!

A/n: hi guys! It’s been quite a long time :) i hope everyone has been doing well! Recently I’ve been obsessed with this game, the graphics and art is so good..hope you all enjoy!

Rafayel;

Apart from being sassy, deep down Rafayel loves your company. You’re the only one who stands him, despite his “bratty humor”, and more so how he wants to be your center of attention 100% of the time

Rafayel adores aquarium dates, or ones that involve his art, like an art exhibit that he meticulously prepared with his entire being. He thinks you’re cute whenever you point at one of his paintings; the same one that he dedicated for you

The only thing he expects from you the most is your time and dedication like said before, although, he loves it when you buy him things like fruits or ocean-themed plushies (even if he doesn’t admit to having 5 plushies on his bed)

Rafayel will definitely tease you by saying he didn’t get you anything when he’s not even trying to hide the jewelry box behind his back. Which in fact, is filled with family heirlooms and things like jellyfish inspired earrings or a whale bracelet..he intends in marrying you one day so it means a lot to him how you accept it!

Has the most exclusive nicknames for you, like his flower, the shine of his eyes, his ocean pearl..they’re mostly related sea terms but nothing out of the ordinary.

Xavier;

Always has a spare set of pijamas whenever you come over to stay during the night. Sometimes, he’ll match with you while in others, Xavier wears little clothing if it’s a hot summer night

His favorite type of dates is going to the observatory during a cold night, especially if he gets to share a blanket under the stars with you

Xavier is more of a simple guy, he doesn’t like over the top expensive gifts and would prefer things like flowers, a new bedsheet set, plushies…

However, when it comes to gift you things, Xavier would do anything (even if it was impossible to do so) like bringing down a star from the night sky for you. He opts in giving you a star/sun necklace that matched with his moon one

Xavier isn’t used to calling you his, although it’s cute whenever he gets shy, holding your hand while walking under the stars whenever he gets the chance to do so. But his favorite nickname is “his star”

Zayne;

Even with his busy schedule, Zayne makes time for you, or invites you to spend lunch with him. After all, he was pleased to see you smile while interacting with the restaurant’s cat.

He loves outdoor dates since he’s cooped up in an office most of his time, although Zayne wouldn’t mind inviting you to a restaurant or going to an arcade during the afternoon

Zayne loves to give you jewelry, simple things like charms for your bracelet or rings that end up matching with his and he will never ask for anything back. He actually dislikes seeing you spend money for him, after all, he wouldn’t hesitate to spoil his beloved

Even if he hates it when you spend money on him, Zayne is fond of flowers and keeps some in his home. You also buy him a phone case with a small cat design because his phone is in need of one.

Loves calling you his beloved, even more behind closed doors. Nicknames like my love, dearest, darling are his favorites for you

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fluff #love and deepspace xavier #love and deepspace zayne #love and deepspace rafayel #zayne x reader #zayne #xavier x reader #xavier #rafayel x reader #rafayel

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leclerc-hs · 7 months

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lucifer - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: you purposely try to make Charles jealous at a party which ultimately leads to some dirty consequences Warnings: SMUT, bad writing, curse words, 18+, choking, slapping, spitting Word Count: 1,657 Author's Note: this was a request from an anon 'Charles jealous and possessive please' that I wanted to make halloween related. Feel free to send more requests!!! Also I apologize for how dirty this might be. I was in a moooood.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

"You are so in for it tonight," your best friend spoke into your ear with a small laugh. "You look hot. Charles' palm will be twitching once he see's you."

It was funny. How irrational the both of you became when the mixture of alcohol and other people were involved.

You and Charles were not a couple, and the mere thought of dating him was utterly inconceivable at most times. He exuded an air of insufferable arrogance that grated on your every nerve. His incessant self-assuredness and overconfidence were more than enough to drive you to the brink of frustration.

But, the sex. Oh boy, the sex. It was as if pushing each other’s buttons was your own secret form of foreplay.

Your outfit was minimal to say the least. An angel. The innocence of your appearance was almost complete, aside from the subtle hint of revealed skin that added a touch of allure. A tiny white dress graced your form, its delicate lace fabric clinging to your figure. Attached were a pair of feathered wings that extended from your back, imparting an air of ethereal elegance. Completing the ensemble, a fluffy white halo, nestled on your head by a dainty headband, bestowed an angelic aura to your attire.

It was an outfit that sent looks your way for sure. Looks that you didn’t care about. There was only one pair of eyes you truly wanted to capture. But you wouldn’t let it be known. There’s no fun in that, right?

Though the night was still relatively young, your friend’s apartment was already deemed a mess. Plastic red cups and glass bottles scattered across most surfaces. The ever-shifting multicolored lights transitioning from crimson to rich purples cast a unique and enchanting ambiance throughout the room.

You felt your thighs press together as the mere memory of the rough fuck from a few weeks ago slips into your mind. It was a pestering memory that reminded you just how much his jealousy ate at him. You wanted it. You needed it.

You could feel him before you saw him. The burning gaze of his eyes lingering on you as you leaned against a wall talking to another guy. A guy, whose name you don’t quite remember, was cute. His humor had you in stitches, keeping you fully engrossed in his presence. The music reverberating against the walls made it hard to hear, resulting in the need to stand closer to one another. From an outsider, his proximity appeared intimate. Almost too intimate for Charles to bare the sight of.

You weren’t flirting at first. At least you weren’t until that memory popped into your head a few minutes ago. You were merely testing the waters, curious to gauge how long it would take for him to crack.

“Do you want another drink?” The guy, who might’ve been named Daniel, leaned in closer so you could hear him over the music. His lips nearly brushing against your ear as he raised his voice.

That seemingly was the last straw. Because before you could even answer, you felt a presence slightly to the left behind you. There was no need to even turn your head; the identity was unmistakable. The firm grip of his hands on your waist, pulling your back to his front, left no doubt on who it was.

“I got it from here,” He was short with his words, so assertive. Leaving little to no room for Daniel, you think that’s his name, to argue. There was no space for Daniel, or whatever his name might be, to push back. You couldn’t see the expression Charles wore, but it must have been far from pleasant, judging by Daniel’s hasty retreat.

You still hadn’t gotten the chance to look at him. Or his costume. He was already guiding you down the apartment hallway, weaving through the crowds of people, and pushed you into the nearest bathroom. You heard a quick sound of the lock on the door. Much like the rest of the apartment, the bathroom was decked out for the occasion. Instead of its typical white-yellow lighting, crimson hues filled the space, casting an eerie sensuous glow.

“It seems I still have to remind you who you belong to,” his voice was a low sultry murmur as his lips grazed your ear, sending shivers down your spine. In front of the mirror by the sink, his towering figure dwarfed yours. Finally, your eyes locked with his in the reflection, the intensity of the moment palpable.

The irony of his outfit threatened to draw an unintended moan from your lips. A devil – the symbolism was anything but planned, completely coincidental. It was as if some silent alarm was blaring, one that everyone else seemed to hear, except for the two of you who were right in the thick of it. The connection between you was undeniable, transcending mere physical attraction, and it was clear as day to all the observers.

His hands were relentless, firmly gripping your ass and thighs until you were panting. His touch was so tantalizing that even the lightest brush of his fingers left you dripping and needy for more.

“I didn’t know you were here,” you lied through your teeth. Charles elicited a mockery of laughter, his lips brushing your skin, as he pressed you firmly against the cool granite countertop. Goosebumps arose on your skin from the contrasting temperatures. Your skin burned with an intense heat, in stark contrast of the cold granite countertops.

“You were too busy acting like a fucking slut to notice.” He sneered as he lifted the ends of your dress above your waist, revealing that you had been bare underneath all along.

You smirked back at him through the mirror, “couldn’t have panty lines now, could I?” A sharp slap echoed off the walls of the tiny bathroom as his hand collided with the skin of your ass. You were soaked already. Full of anticipation. You both were so full of need; Charles couldn’t even wait to pull his pants all the way off.

“Such a fucking tease,” were the last words he said before slamming his cock into your entrance. A yelp of surprise escaped your lips as a powerful and sudden thrust rocked through you, causing you to place your trembling hands on the countertop to steady yourself.

“Oh my fucking god.”

“Fucking hell. You’re so fucking tight poupée,” Doll. He sounded like he was in pain. “Squeezing my cock like the whore you are.” His hands gripped your hair as his hips snapped at a rapid pace into you.

“Who’s got you so hot and bothered tonight? Hm?” He starts. It seems as if you just can’t shut the fuck up tonight though.

“Daniel.” You mutter the words with a smirk on your lips. Testing his patience, pushing the boundaries to see just how far you could go, a playful and daring challenge in the heat of the moment.

He offered no words back. Just another hard slap to your skin. You shrieked from the burn of the slap, no doubt leaving your skin red.

You gazed into the mirror, determined to etch this exact moment into your memory. One hand fisted your hair tightly as he pulled it back, the other groping your breast harshly. He continued to roll your nipples between his thumb and middle finger, pinching them just how you liked. The shadows of your feathered wings were visibly shaking with each thrust. It was so fucking hot to see.

“God, do you ever just shut the fuck up?” He muttered between each thrust. If it wasn’t for the loud music in the background, the whole apartment would’ve heard you. The room smelt of sweat as he worked into you harder. You could see his skin start to glisten under the red hues in the mirror. It was so erotic; you almost came right then and there.

"We all know its only my cock you want."

Charles was on the brink of insanity from the way you squeezed around him. Just relentlessly pounding into you that your hips will no doubt have bruises on them from the bathroom countertop.

With an intense, forceful pull on your hair, he tugged you upright, your back arching as your head tilted back, allowing you to gaze up at him, your eyes locking almost instantly.

“Please,” you begged. You were so close. Your pussy was growing sensitive with each thrust.

“Open,” He was so assertive. You surrendered. He spat directly into your mouth, and you swallowed without hesitation. His arm moved around, and his hand settled on the front of your neck, much like a piece of intimate jewelry. He applied just the right amount of pressure, sending you over the edge.

“Look at you, hm?” Charles edged you on through your orgasm. “Such a fucking slut for my spit.”

“Yes.” You couldn’t even deny it. You literally were. He pressed your face back down into the sink as he moved in quick pulses. It was as if each pump of his cock was claiming you.

Mine. Mine. Mine.

You swore you blacked out. You barely acknowledged the feeling of him pulling out and spilling himself all over your backside, rubbing the tip of himself around your skin. His strength held you in place, leaving you panting against the cool of the granite.

He quickly cleaned you up, pressing a light kiss to your ass before pulling your dress back down. He gave two small pats to your butt as you stood up and faced him.

His thumbs slowly pressed under your eyes, wiping the dried tears and smudged mascara from under them away.

“Beautiful,” he whispered lightly as you leaned the full weight of your head in the palms of his hands.

You felt a tug on your heart as your stomach did somersaults. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. It was supposed to be no strings.

You were completely wiped out. Almost limp in his arms from being freshly fucked.

“Wanna get out of here?” He zipped his pants back up while you tried to manage your hair back to a semi-decent look.

“Yes.”

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soooo what do you guys think? please feel free to leave requests!!! I love new ideas xoxo

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc #f1 imagines #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #formula #f1 #f1 one shot #charles leclerc one shot #cl16 x reader #cl16 imagine

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chrisevansonly · 8 months

Text

𝐁𝐚𝐛𝐲’𝐬 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

ʚ charles leclerc x female reader

ʚ nothing is more special than watching your baby boy take his first steps…and of course watching your husband get emotional that his little one is growing up…

ʚ no warnings, very soft and fluffy

ʚ i really wanted to write a dad!charles so here we are even if i still feel iffy about my writing lol, i hope you guys enjoy it! requests are still open for little blurb ideas, fics, smau’s etc<3

For parents there was never a greater joy than watching their child grow, learn and get more and more curious as they became older. For little Théo Leclerc who had just turned 9 months, he was proficient at crawling and getting into anything and everything, you blamed his father’s drive and determination on that. He was as curious as babies come, intrigued in anything his mother and father were doing, he loved playing with coloured blocks, reading bedtime stories with his parents at night, he was the definition of a blessing to both you and Charles.

“good morning chérie, smells delicious down here”

You smiled turning to press a gentle kiss to Charles’s cheek, a soft smile on your face

“morning my love, thought i’d make some pancakes, Théo has been loving them”

“his mother is an amazing cook can you blame him? where is he anyway, it’s too quiet…”

You laughed pointing over to the little area you had set up on your living room, toys and books spilled across the hardwood floor

“he has been quite busy this morning, haven’t you petit prince?”

Cooing slightly at the mini Charles in the corner he giggled looking at you, upon noticing his father he began to wiggle on the floor, slowly making his way over on his hands and knees

“es-tu impatient de me voir bébé!?”

Théo squealed happily, finally making it to Charles who was quick to pick up the happy baby, who’s hands rested on his father’s face

“Look at that happy face! He’s so cute it makes me want to cry…are you so happy to see papa?”

You laughed seeing the smile on his face as he wiggled around in Charles’s arms, coming over to press kisses across his face only intensifying it

“You are going to squirm right onto the floor if you keep doing that”

Théo only giggled, his hands grabbing at the now cooking pancakes that rested on his plate

“Papa will put you in your chair and you can have some breakfast okay my love?”

“Can’t have you hungry can we little worm”

Snorting out a laugh you turned to him

“Little worm?”

“Have you seen him when he does that wiggle? You should hold him when he does it, he’s like a worm”

Shaking your head you couldn’t help but realize that was probably a good nickname for your son, when he got excited there was no stopping that wiggle.

Théo was quick to finish his breakfast, never leaving anything behind on his plate, so while you cleaned up, you set him down gently on the floor, though he never really stayed in one place, so as your back was turned he had made it over to his dad who was sitting in the living room, cleaning up the mess baby tornado had left behind. Upon reaching the couch, Théo had grabbed onto the couch to stand up, gripping onto the fabric he got to his feet, letting out a squeal, instantly catching the attention of Charles.

“What are you up too bébé, sois prudent…”

On instinct he moved a bit closer before pausing when Théo began to take steps towards him

“Chérie, regarde ça! Théo marche!”

Quickly turning to look towards the living room you grabbed your phone, immediately walking over to film your baby boy, tears in your eyes as you smiled

“Bravo petit prince! Tu vas si bien!”

Théo giggled walking a few more steps before collapsing into his fathers chest

“He-He walked! Char…he-I can’t believe he walked!”

Joining your boys on the floor you couldn’t help but notice the little tears that rested on your husbands cheeks as well, taking your thumb and gently wiping them off his skin

“I can’t believe it…he-he walked right to me, please tell me you got that”

Nodding you showed him the video once again on your phone, getting to experience the moment all over again, Charles hugging Théo closer

“You’re growing up too fast…can’t believe you’re walking”

“Aw baby, he’s still little…don’t worry”

You kissed his cheek gently, a hand rubbing Théo’s back softly

“Tu seras toujours le petit prince de papa, n'est-ce pas?”

He giggled wiggling around a little bit for Charles to put him back down, watching as he began to crawl around once again

“I’m going to miss him as a baby…”

“I know you will, but we still have some time…besides, who said we have to stop at one?”

Hearing your words Charles looked at you, a slight twinkle in his eyes

“Je suppose que nous avons du travail à faire…”

You smiled shaking your head before pressing a firm kiss to his lips, only pulling away when Théo began to walk once again, only this time heading away from you both

“Well here we go…”

Laughter filled the room as you and Charles took after your now very quick baby boy, what you thought was fast at a crawl, seemed to be lightning speed now that he was on his feet.

You wouldn’t change anything for the world, you’re family was perfect, and you couldn’t be happier…even if your little one was growing up too fast…

#rueswrites #ruesanswers #ruesanons<3 #ruesasks #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x girlfriend reader #charles leclerc x wife reader #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc au #charles leclerc ferrari #charles leclerc f1 #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #dad!charles leclerc #dad charles leclerc #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1

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lovebugism · 2 months

Note

Could you pleaseeee do more single dad!Eddie 🥺

✶ ┄ MAYDAY ! [ stand by me ]

summary: after totally embarrassing yourself at eddie's kid's birthday party, the metalhead single dad from the trailer park shows you his (perhaps equally embarrassing) favorite movie. (2.9k)

pairing: dad!eddie munson / f!reader

tags: eddie and maeve universe, strangers to lovers (eventually), slow burn, mutual pining, idiots in love, girl dad eddie munson™, fluff, ugly crying at movies

You never did crack open that bottle.

The one you accidentally brought to Eddie’s kid’s birthday party? Yeah, that one. The glass container sits unopened on the coffee table in front of you, casting amber reflections on the old wood beneath the lamplight. It’s just a silly conversation starter now. You’ve got no real reason to drink it, anyway.

There’s nothing more intoxicating than Eddie Munson’s presence.

Sunrays spill from your mouth when you tip your head back to laugh. You turn to look at the boy on the other end of the couch, and your warm cheek squishes against the cushion. “Stand By Me is not your favorite movie!” you argue, giggling softly with disbelief.

Eddie has no idea how big he’s smiling. He’s too busy staring at you to notice the beam on his face.

He shrugs his shoulders, now free from the confines of his leather jacket. He wears a faded Peanuts shirt now. A hand-me-down, you figure. “I mean… Land Before Time is a really close second,” he answers in a teasing lilt.

“Oh, yeah. Only the saddest movie ever made.”

“Maeve used to love it. And, like, not in a normal way— She used to make me play it for her until the tape spun out,” Eddie tells you, chuckling softly to himself. “It grew on me eventually, but… Then she grew out of it.”

You watch him get all forlorn at the thought. You meet his subtle pout with a scrunched nose. “Well, she’s only four, right? Surely, she hasn’t had time to grow out of much.”

Eddie scoffs and slouches further on the couch until his thighs spread. “You’d be surprised. Every time I think I— you know— start to understand her a little bit or whatever, she just… She changes, you know? Like, overnight.”

He doesn’t mean to get so suddenly sentimental about the whole thing. Especially not in front of a pretty girl he only met eight hours ago. He’ll blame it on the late night and the existential dread that always comes with birthdays. He conceals his brooding behind a dumb joke.

“I mean, just this morning, Maeve’s favorite animal was a Hefflelump… Now it’s a blobfish.”

You try to hold back your laughter. You fail. The sunshine-coated giggle sputters from your mouth despite your attempts to keep it hidden. Eddie only laughs because you are.

“I should’ve said turtle or something,” you humor with a roll of your eyes, tucking your knees to your chest. “Or, like, a badger. Maybe then I wouldn’t have gotten made fun of all day.”

“Those aren’t any less normal,” Eddie chuckles with a lopsided grin, dark chocolate eyes twinkling ‘cause he never really liked normal anyway.

You shrug. “Agree to disagree.”

“You wanna know something?” he blurts after a long beat of silent smiles. “When I tucked her in, she made me promise to take her to the aquarium tomorrow. Said she wanted to see ‘if the blobfish were just as gross in real life.’

You smile so wide your eyes squint at the edges. “Do they have blobfish at the aquarium?” you laugh.

Eddie shrugs. “Probably not. But she’ll get to pet a stingray or somethin’. Then she’ll forget all about it.”

“Sounds fun…” you murmur, picking at pills of cotton on the old couch with a suddenly anxious hand.

“Yeah. Parenting always is,” Eddie hums with a distant smile. “Even when it isn’t.”

“Should I— Should I, like, go?” you stammer.

The boy seems shocked by your question. His fluffy brows pinch as he hums. “Huh?”

You squirm, less than comfortable in your own skin. “Well, I mean, it’s… It’s getting kinda late and everything, and… If you guys are going into the city in the morning, I don’t wanna, like, keep you or whatever—”

Suddenly anxious, Eddie sits up a little straighter. “No! No, it’s okay. I don’t mind,” he responds, then quickly follows with wide eyes. “Unless— Unless you want to leave—”

“I don’t!” you answer, equally flustered.

Eddie forces an awkward chuckle. “I don’t want you to think I’m, like, keeping you hostage here or something—”

“I just don’t wanna overstay my welcome—”

“You couldn’t,” he insists.

You nod, and in a mousy voice, you reply, “Well, you couldn’t keep me hostage, so…”

Eddie grins. “Good.”

“Good,” you echo.

“So… Wanna watch a movie or something?” he offers with a fluttering heart and fidgeting hands.

He feels like a teenage boy all over again — only he never actually got the opportunity to ask a pretty girl out when he was a teenager. People weren’t exactly fighting to spend time with the local freak back then. Or now, really.

Except you.

“Whaddaya got?”

“Well, let’s see…” he says, grunting as he rises from the couch.

Eddie walks the short distance to the box television across the room — which Maeve has carefully decorated with a collection of sparkly stickers. He sorts through the VHS tapes stacked in less-than-organized piles with a ringed hand, realizing must’ve left all the good stuff at Wayne’s.

“Oh, you know… All the Maeve Munson favorites…” he singsongs with a sigh.

“Surprise me,” you call from the couch.

Eddie rises then, with two bulky VHSs clutched within ringed fingers. He holds them on either side of his face and grins between them. “Stand By Me or Land Before Time?”

“Stand By Me,” you answer with a firm nod. “Unless, you know, you wanna see me ugly cry.”

“That’s second date territory,” he quips with a wink, suddenly and very uncharacteristically cool. “Stand By Me it is.”

—————

You’re crying on a stranger’s couch about ninety minutes later.

The credits roll in static colors on the tiny television across from you. The low bass of a nostalgic song floats quietly through the living room — If the sky, that we look upon, should tumble and fall… Or the mountains, should crumble to the sea…

Eddie looks on with a sympathetic beam as you hide your teary face behind your palms. He can’t tell if you’re shaking from sobs or from laughter. Maybe a healthy mixture of both. “I thought you weren’t gonna cry!” he chuckles.

You peek at him through your fingers. Your eyes are glassy with tears and squinting at the edges with a smile. “I forgot how sad it was!” you sniffle, then laugh at yourself.

I won’t cry, I won’t cry… No, I won’t shed a tear…

“You’re crying, too!” you observe as the boy beside you wipes at his eyes with his fingertips. You reach over to shove him with a playful hand. “You big softy!”

Eddie scoffs and swipes his nose with the back of his wrist. “I’m not crying! I’m just… I had something in my eye.”

“Tears?” you tease with a scrunched nose.

He nods, and with a sheepish look in his eyes, he says, “Yeah…”

Your quiet laughter entwines, filling the dim living room with something sparkly and golden. The sound of violins swells in a similar way. Eddie’s eyes flutter shut as he begins singing the lyrics to himself, not really trying but sounding pretty anyway.

“Just as long, as you stand, stand by me…” he croons quietly. You beam and sing softly along with him, audibly less serious about the whole thing. “And darlin’! Darlin’! Stand by me… Oh, stand by me—”

Both of you quieten when a door squeaks about open down the hall. The distant screech is followed by the patter of tiny footsteps. Eddie huffs and sits up a little straighter. “Ah, shit…”

Your face floods with horror. “Was I too loud?” you whisper.

“No. It’s just midnight,” he answers, shaking his wild head. “She always wakes up at midnight. Like my personal little Gremlin.”

Maeve appears in the dark hallway then, drowning in one of her dad’s old t-shirts. Corroded Coffin, the front of it reads, in what seems to be hand-made lettering. The thing fits her like a gown.

Her curls sit in an untamed halo around her head from the intensity of her slumber. She rubs at her swollen eyes with chubby fists. Eddie can’t help but grin at the sight of her.

“Hey, Mayday,” he coos. “What happened? You can’t sleep?”

The girl shuffles to her father like it’s muscle memory to her. Still half-asleep, she grips his shirt with graceless fingers and climbs onto his lap with her eyes still shut. She cuddles into his torso, fitting perfectly there, while you sit frozen on the other side of the couch. Like maybe if you’re real still, she won’t notice you’re there.

“We gonna go see da blobfish now?” she wonders in tiny slurs against his chest.

Eddie’s cheek squishes against her head when he smiles. The expression gets lost in her wild chestnut locks. “Not yet, May. It’s too late— All the fishies are sleeping now. Like you should be.”

She shifts on his lap like she’s trying to get more comfortable there. Her cheek, indented with lines of sleep, rubs against his shirt when she turns to look up at him. “Need you to tuck me in,” she tells him, tiny chin bobbing against his chest.

Eddie juts back to see her better. “Again?” he humors with his brows raised behind his curly bangs.

“Mhmm,” she nods, slow and sleepy.

“Okay,” he hums, scoffing a tired chuckle. “I’ll tuck you in again, bug.”

You don’t mean to laugh. It just crawls up your throat and out of your mouth before you can stop it. You try to hide it behind your palm, but Maeve still notices.

Her fluffy brows scrunch together when she turns to you. She swipes at the hair sticking to her cheek with a fumbling hand to see you better. She doesn’t say anything, though. She just kinda blinks at you, with a brown-eyed, emotionless gaze.

You muster a wavering smile at the girl, lifting your hand in an unsure wave.

“Wanna go see the blobfish with us tomorrow?” Maeve blurts. Though, in her less than awake state, it sounds more like wanna go see da bobfish wiv us tommowow? It’s like you can feel your heart melting.

“The aquarium,” Eddie clarifies.

You squirm in your seat. “Oh, I… I can’t,” you sigh, then follow quickly when she pouts. “I wish I could! It sounds super fun, but I’m… I’m busy…”

You aren’t, really. ‘Cause tomorrow’s Saturday — the only thing you really have to do is try to wake up before noon. You just don’t know how else to turn her down.

“Maybe next time?” Eddie offers hopefully, mostly for Maeve’s sake.

You nod rapidly, just for Maeve. “Yeah. Next time. Definitely.”

“See? It’s okay,” Eddie lilts, squeezing gently at the girl’s sides until she’s smiling again. “We can have fun just you and me, right?”

Maeve pouts in response, a sort of snarled face that’s obviously playful.

Eddie laughs loud and boyishly in return. “Hey! Don’t make that face at me!” he exclaims, feigning offense. Maeve loses her poker face almost instantly as she giggles. “Go get in bed, you weirdo. I’ll tuck you in in a second.”

“And read me another book?” she presses hopefully.

He nods, knowing it’s a fight he’s bound to lose. “And read you another book.”

“Two of them?”

The girl holds her pointer and middle finger in front of her face. Eddie chuckles and guides the latter back down with a gentle hand. “One,” he corrects.

“Two.”

“One.”

“Two!”

A brief stare-off ensues, one in which you’ve got a front-row seat. Maeve’s dark chocolate gaze resembles her father’s — button-eyed and swimming with something honeyed and stubborn. She tilts her chin to her chest and glares unwavering at the man in front of her.

Eddie inevitably caves. He sighs so deeply his chest deflates. “Fine… Two. But only if you run real fast.”

Maeves slides down his denim-clad legs until her bare feet hit the carpet. She scurries down the hall without another word, quiet giggles fading with her footsteps. Eddie slumps against the couch with a small, contented sigh.

You realize you haven’t stopped smiling for several minutes now. “She’s really sweet,” you compliment to fill the silence.

Eddie scoffs a gentle laugh. “Yeah. When she wants to be.”

The quiet returns. You run out of things to say. The notion of the late-late night settles more heavily upon you. You swallow hard and fight for a way out that doesn’t make it sound like Eddie hasn’t just given you one of the best nights of your life.

“I think I’m gonna—”

“Well, I should—”

The boy starts speaking at the same time as you. You cut each other off without trying, then laugh quietly at yourselves.

“You first,” you tell him.

“I should go tuck Maeve in before she goes all Mayday mode and starts screaming at me,” Eddie says, only partly joking.

His sweet little Maeve is only Mayday when she’s throwing a too-passionate tantrum. Or when it’s past midnight, and she’s acting like a total gremlin. He doesn’t particularly want you to witness either. ‘Cause kids tend to be pretty gnarly sometimes — especially when you aren’t the one raising them.

“Yeah, I should probably start heading home, anyway,” you reply. “It’s late.”

Eddie rises with a small huff. You follow behind him towards the front door, both of you moving with slow and heavy strides — neither particularly wanting the other to go.

“Thanks for keeping me company,” he says beneath the sound of the screeching screen door. “And for helping Maeve have a good day and everything… Most people don’t really consider hanging out with a four-year-old and her dad a good time, so…”

“Well, most people are weirdos,” you scoff and slide past him through the doorway. “You and Maeve are, like, the coolest people in Hawkins.”

You stand ahead of him on the front steps of the trailer, glowing beneath the silver moon and the buzzing amber porchlight. Eddie lingers in the entryway and holds the door open with his shoulder, so he can hear Maeve when she inevitably starts shouting for him.

“Yeah, I don’t know about that,” he wavers with a scrunched nose. “Maeve’s pretty cool and all, but… She definitely didn’t get that from me.”

“Your favorite movies are Land Before Time and Stand By Me,” you deadpan with a flat face. A smile inevitably pulls at your lips when you look at him too long, pretty as he is. “You’re cool, Eddie. Whether you wanna be or not.”

“Agree to disagree,” he grins, totally sheepish as he shrugs off the compliment. “Thanks for hangin’ around. Again.”

He feels like he’s said that too many times now, but he’s too full of gratitude to stop. It’s been just him and Maeve for so long. And, yeah, sure, Steve and Robin come around when they can, but they’ve got their own lives outside of this one. It isn’t every day someone appears at his trailer with a bottle of booze and the wherewithal to acclimate to his chaotic life.

Eddie feels like he should never stop thanking you, really.

You shrug. “Thanks for keeping me around. Again.”

“See you soon?” he wonders with a hopeful glint in his dark eyes, made a much lighter amber in the moonlight.

You nod firmly once. “‘Course.”

And even though that’s as good a dismissal as any, you both linger in the doorway still. Like your feet are glued in place.

How are you supposed to walk away from him? The man with wild rockstar curls, rings on each finger, and a beaded bracelet with his daughter’s initial in the very center. The man who loves cartoons more than his toddler and cries with you at sad movies?

You figure you’ll spend forever chasing this foreign feeling he’s so effortlessly given you.

“Daddy!” Maeve shouts. Her high-pitched voice rings through the tiny trailer. It makes you wince a little. You didn’t think something so tiny could be so loud.

“And there’s Mayday…” Eddie lilts quietly, unflinching ‘cause he’s used to this by now.

“I’ll go,” you laugh, walking backward towards your car. “I’ll— I’ll see you around.”

“G’night,” he calls to you as he watches you go.

His chest stings when he realizes he never asked for your number. It feels much too awkward to do it now, and he’s only got a few minutes more before Maeve goes crazy on him. He should’ve asked you ages ago, really. But he didn’t. ‘Cause he’s an idiot.

You notice it, too, but you flash him a sheepish smile over your shoulder anyway. Even if you never hear from him again after you’re gone, you figure there’s always next year.

Maeve will be another year older. Steve will bring you along to her party if you beg. Eddie will be in desperate need of a pick-me-up, and you’ll bring a bottle of booze just to make him smile. The alcohol will go untouched, though, as the two of you get lost in conversation and Stand By Me.

Even if all this was only destined to happen once every year — even if it was only supposed to happen once and never again — you’ll spend the rest of your life grateful that it happened at all.

With a cold hand trembling with longing, you wrench your car door open. Though your heart’s heavy with a distant worry that you may never be back here again, you grin at him through the grief and the small distance between you.

“Good night, Eddie.”

#published by bug #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #stranger things x reader #eddie munson #stranger things #eddie munson imagine #stranger things imagine #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #st drabbles #eddie spaghetti drabble #eddie and maeve

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fbfh · 8 months

Text

makey makeover - rodrick x hyperfeminine reader

wc: 1.5k

pairing: rodrick x gn hyperfeminine!reader

warnings: rodrick isn't used to being taken care of but only briefly mentioned at the end, rodrick does not know what hyaluronic acid is

summary: rodrick can never say no to you, but if it means having you straddle his lap while you use all your skincare products on him and listen to music together, he wouldn't want to say no anyway.

song recs: makey makeover - crazy ex girlfriend cast, jesus of suburbia - green day, perfect day - hoku

a/n: I started writing a kids book yesterday?? like I finished the first chapter and outline in one sitting???? it wasn't at all planned but when the muse strikes yk. Anyway I don't think it will take me as long to write so if you wanna read a chapter book about magic and girlhood and unicorns and other mythical creatures with bella sara vibes that's probs gonna be ready reasonably soon lol

tags: @yesv01 @magcon7280 @dustyinkpages @the-snake-pit @kiara7777 @inthehoneymoonwithconnorrk800 @followingthefanfiction @2220825 @Maggzsworld @xiaos_crustytoenails @ionlymadethisaccountbcihadto @strawberryjen124 @Isaentremundos @hxnbah

Rodrick likes to think he's a pretty tough guy. Between being born and raised on the rebellious messages of pop punk music, and the nonconforming ideologies of emo and other alt subcultures, Rodrick knows in his bones that he'll never let the man break his spirit. He'll never bow down to someone just because they want him to do something. He's had countless opportunities to stand by these beliefs at school and at home, and he has never - not once - come close to doing anything for someone simply because they want him to. Rodrick has been confident in his ability to never give into other people’s orders, no matter how much they demand of him.

Until now.

“Pretty please, Roddy…?” You pout your glossy lips at him, blinking up at him and batting your doll like eyelashes, and that’s all it takes to make him fold.

“...I guess, if you really-” He’s cut off by an excited squeal from you, and he’s glad that you’re too distracted to notice him blush. Rodrick has never felt his willpower give in so fast, but as he watches you rush around your room and smile, delighted that he’d agreed, he realizes that he’d do pretty much anything you tell him too. Ben and Chris would call him a pussywhipped simp, but… no, that’s pretty much it. He chuckles a little at the thought, watching the pile of stuff grow. He recognizes nail polish and tweezers, but that’s about it.

“Thank you thank you thank you!” You say, rambling happily as you settle down on your bed across from him. “I’ve been wanting to do self care stuff but I’ve done so many everything showers and self care nights there’s nothing left for me to do on myself. But you…”

You take his face in your manicured hands, moving him around to inspect more closely.

“You are in serious need of a facial.”

Rodrick doesn’t really process what you’re saying, he just loves when you touch his face like that.

“...Uh, yeah totally.” He mutters absentmindedly, distracted by your sweet smell. After a moment, he processes what you said, and chuckles, leaning back into your silky pink pillows. “Babe, you can do anything to me, anywhere, anytime.”

You giggle, feeling your face flush a little as you get all your stuff organized. Rodrick runs his hands up and down your waist, fidgeting with your soft fluffy pajama shorts and big loded diper shirt you wear all the time. He sees the little burn marks and worn out hems and realizes it’s the one you stole from him. He smiles softly, loving the way you look in it even more now. His attention is pulled back to you when you push something over his face, brushing his hair back. You adjust the fluffy cat ears on the headband, making sure you have access to his whole face. Rodrick giggles a little, knowing he must look a little out of place wearing a pierce the veil shirt and fluffy kitty cat headband.

“I don’t think my forehead has been this exposed since like, 4th grade…” he chuckles.

“That’s good, you’ll have less sun damage that way.” You smile, putting some micellar water on a cotton pad. It’s a little cold to the touch, but after a moment, the feeling of you gently wiping over his face and neck ends up being way more relaxing than he had expected it to. You throw it away, and he hears it land in your trash can with a crinkle.

“I’m gonna mist your face now, okay?” You say, and he nods. You spray rose water on his face, and Rodrick can’t get over how considerate you are to give him a heads up like that. Rodrick smiles a little as he adjusts to the subtle floral smelling facial spray he’s used to smelling on you. He basks in the quietness of your room, opening his eyes as he watches you sitting on his stomach and looking for the next product. You hesitate for a moment. You feel like something’s missing, but you can’t put your finger on it.

“Oh,” you say, reaching for your phone as you remember. You open up Spotify, and put your favorite playlist on shuffle - the one you and Roddy share. It’s full of both your favorite songs, mostly boiling down to early 2000’s pop punk and trashy pop. It’s chaotic but really does suit you both perfectly. Rodrick smiles suddenly as he instantly recognizes the opening notes of Jesus of Suburbia begin to play. You take out your favorite serum, jasmine and blackberry hydrating jelly, and place a few drops around his face.

“What’s that one?” Rodrick asks, picking up another bottle.

“Hyaluronic acid.”

Rodrick looks at the little dropper bottle.

“Does it, like, melt the flesh right off your bones?”

“No…?” You chuckle, massaging his cheekbones and jawline with your fingertips.

“Then why is it called hydroponic acid?” He asks rhetorically, “Acid is supposed to melt shit.”

You laugh again, and he makes a mental note to sample your laughter for a song at some point in the future. He doesn’t know which one yet, but he knows it will be his best one yet.

You rub some cooling aloe vera gel into his skin, then take out your rose quartz gua sha stone. You tap your fingertips against his chest, and he looks at you with an amused smile.

“What does that do?”

He watches you work, eyes locked on you. He can’t remember the last time he felt this relaxed and peaceful.

“I’m prepping your lymphatic drainage system.”

That clarified absolutely nothing for Rodrick, but he trusts you implicitly. You’re so good at so many things, but Christ, you could write a book on all that girly beauty stuff. It’s way more hardcore than people think it is. You know about all these acids and drainage systems and the pink rock thing, and even though he’s impressed, he’s not at all surprised by how good you are at all this stuff.

You begin gently gliding your gua sha over Roddy’s skin, working from his forehead down to his neck and jawline. He stops talking as you work, and it’s like you melt all of the stress out of his body through his face. He could fall asleep with you touching him so gently like this. After a while you rub some more cream into his face, then place something under his eyes that feels like thinly sliced jello.

“What the fuck?” He asks, bringing another laugh out of you. He watches you take two more of the weird jelly things and put them under your own eyes.

“They’re under eye masks.” You answer with a chuckle. “They hydrate your skin, depuff, and get rid of dark circles.”

“Huh…” he hums in response, playing with the patches as they sit on his face.

Once you’ve used half your arsenal of skincare products on him, you peel off his sheet mask and let him sit up. You hand him a mirror, and as he sits up and stretches a little, kind of wishing you had more to do, he feels like he just woke up from the best sleep of his life.

“So? What do you think?” You ask excitedly. He can’t help but crack a smile at how cute you are. Rodrick takes the mirror you offer him. When he sees his reflection, he almost doesn’t recognize himself.

“Oh my god…” he says with a soft smile. He’s glowing. He doesn’t think he’s ever looked this soft and moisturized and… cared for before. He doesn’t even have any crusty eyeliner from yesterday smudged around his eyes. He can never get it off all the way, but one wave of your magic wand, and it’s gone. He laughs again, touching his cheek. He looks up at you in surprise.

“My face is so smooth…” “I know!” You exclaim in delight. “So, do you like facials after all?”

You have a feeling you already know the answer, but Rodrick looks up at you anyway.

“Yeah,” he states, pulling you in for a kiss, his lips soft and exfoliated, topped with your favorite strawberry lip balm. You think Rodrick is right, it does taste better in a kiss. After he pulls away, it takes him a minute for his brain to stop short circuiting.

“So… uh, are we doing this again next weekend?”

You laugh at his hopeful tone of voice, how he raises his eyebrows a little.

“Yeah.” You nod, taking him in for another kiss. You take his hands in yours, looking at the stick and poke tattoo he got of the heart you drew on his hand in chemistry class, his little calluses from drumming. “Next week I can do something about your cuticles.”

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick #rodrick x reader #rodrick x hyperfeminine reader #hyperfeminine reader #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid x reader #doawk #doawk x reader #yeah no idea where the book thing came from #i literally wasn't even a horse/unicorn kid growing up #i was more into faries #like i liked the horse girl aesthetic ig but i never really got into it #but it's fun #i almost accidentally named a character after a member of paramore so im glad i caught that lol #stay tuned

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sugrhigh · 2 months

Text

BOY NEXT DOOR 5 - ( c.s )

part four

summary- you and your roommates live beside a bunch of senior hockey players, one of them being the infamous team captain chris sturniolo. he’s effortlessly flirty and undeniably attractive, but he’s also a pain in your ass. you find that you have to fight between lust and hatred as you finally get to know the boy next door, whether you want to or not.

warnings- cursing, kinda fluffy in the beginning, smutty smut at the end (YEP U READ THAT RIGHT FOLKS)

neighbor/hockey!chris x fem!reader

a/n: HIIII i apologize for the wait!!! part five is here and boy is she something, she’s long asf and i hope you love <3 if i forgot to tag you i am so so sorry, leave me a comment and i’ll absolutely fix it! my inbox is open for u guys always

@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @l9vesick @55sturn @mattinside @sturnioloco @mattybsbitch @mattsmunch @breeloveschris @sturnifyed @julessspoetry @beijhe @gnxosblog @braindead4l @hearts4matty @orangeypepsi @luckistar-posts @angelworldspost @ponyosturniolo @cupidsword @rainydayenthusiast @sturnvvz @wurlibydominicfike @poopydroopt @bernardsleftbootycheek @trilliwarner @hearts4chris @rubyjaneaxx @reallykaz @sturnlvrs @neatcarrot767 @stonermattsgf @kirby0strombolli @bunnysturns @reallykaz @junnniiieee07 @hrt-attack @sturnssmuts

trying to push chris away, especially after the party, might possibly be the hardest task you’ve ever faced. he’s relentless in trying to get your attention, and the bruise he left on your neck is a fading reminder of your prior weakness.

he’s been teasing you endlessly for the past four days; working out in front of his window with the music blaring, making sure he’s always shirtless, texting you at least once a day just to flirt.

and it’s slowly chipping away at your self-defense, as pathetic as it makes you feel. you don’t want to give in to your stupid fucking temptations, but it’s so hard not to.

not to mention cassidy and ramona have been prying about him every few hours, trying to see how this is all going to play out. you wish you knew, but you don't.

you’re straddling the fence of hatred and lust now, still unsure where you stand.

your internal struggle to forget about him has haunted you, and it weighs on your shoulders now as you sit criss-cross in bed, trying to focus on starting your essay.

your phone vibrates, facedown beside you, and you presume that it’s the very person you’re trying to ignore.

you’re correct, of course.

chris

let me take you out

you haven’t been responding to him, but this text catches you by surprise, just enough to type out an actual answer.

y/n

you go to set the device back down when it pings again in your hand. you flip it in your palm, letting the screen light up.

chris

ok then let me eat you out

your stomach flips, and you instinctively glance out your window to your left. chris is grinning at you from ear to ear, freshly showered and (of course) shirtless after practice. he’s also sitting in bed, legs hanging off the side as his gray sweats bunch up around his waist.

y/n

no.

you’re a creep

chris

you love it when i talk to you like that

you look back up from your messages to flip him off. he tilts his head back, and you imagine hearing his loud laughter as if you were right there with him.

y/n

you think walking around without a shirt on is winning me over?

chris

maybe a little?

y/n

think again pretty boy

he pouts just a bit before standing up, waving a hand to indicate you should meet him at the window. you listen, wedging the pane upwards so the chilly january air hits you right in the face.

the sun has set now, so chris is backlit by the light of his room as he stares at you, placing his palms on the windowsill so he can casually lean out into the night.

“what do you want?” you spit, wrapping your arms around yourself to fight the cold.

“i can’t talk to my favorite girl?” he smirks, breath fogging up slightly in front of him.

you don’t know why he won’t put on a fucking shirt, even in the freezing atmosphere. his body certainly isn’t bad to look at, but you’re too stubborn to ever say it, especially when he’s so smug.

“no, you can’t. what do you want?” you twirl your finger, as if to tell him to get on with it.

“i want to hang out.” chris reiterates in a serious tone.

you roll your eyes before you can think twice about it, because it still sounds so stupid coming out of his mouth. “yeah, right.”

“i mean it. no funny business. unless you want that, of course.” he says, still toying with you even when he’s supposedly being genuine.

you shake your head, blowing out a long breath of exasperation. but the curiosity takes over, and you have to admit you’re a little intrigued.

“what could you possibly have in mind?”

thirty minutes later you’re back inside the hockey arena, a pair of skates dangling in one hand as you follow chris down the walkway toward the player bench.

it’s quiet, since it’s the beginning of the week and nobody is allowed on the college team’s ice aside from players. he had even chatted up one of the employees, which just helped secure you your time to goof off alone.

you had no idea that this was where he was taking you, because he insisted on it being a surprise and made you keep your eyes closed for the entire drive, but the revelation ended up being far more pleasant than you expected.

you actually used to love going ice skating as a kid, probably because you adored watching hockey and figuring skating so much. it’s been a while, and you know you’ll look terrible next to chris, but you don’t really mind.

he leads the way and sits down, jamming his feet into his hockey skates. then he uses his newly freed hand to wave you over, which makes you realize that you’ve been standing around like an NPC.

“come on, don’t be shy. i’ll lace you up.”

it’s not really an offer, because the second you plop down beside him he’s on one knee, taking the skates out of your hands gently. he doesn’t even give you time to yell at him for the dumb nickname.

“i can do it myself, you know.” you protest as he slides one of your sneakers off, replacing it and guiding your foot into one of the skates.

“that wouldn’t be very gentlemanly now would it?” he looks up at you through his fluffy brown hair, a silly grin playing on his lips.

“oh, i wasn’t aware i was in the presence of a gentleman.” you tease, looking around like you’re searching for whoever he’s talking about.

chris just repeats his actions with your other foot, careful to move you softly as he slips the other skate on. “i wouldn’t talk shit before we get on the ice, you know.”

“please, i’ll skate circles around you.”

it’s an empty threat and he knows it, because he chuckles as he ties his own laces fluidly before using your knees to push himself off the ground.

“then how about you get out there and show me?” chris challenges, extending his hand to you.

“let’s do it.” you take it without thinking, and you hate that it was just a natural reaction.

you hate wanting to hold it, and the fact that you don’t feel disgusted.

chris pulls you up and waits until you’re fully steady before he starts tugging you along in excitement.

he lets go once he opens the small door to the ice, skating out to the middle and doing a little spin around the BU emblem just to show off. but it’s actually endearing to see him so in his element, so passionate about something.

“care to join?” he invites, and you suck in a breath before stepping out onto the ice.

you’re a little wobbly at first, awkwardly skating along and trying to make sure your knees don’t buckle before you even get to him. you’re also approaching with a bit too much momentum, and you fumble against his hard chest.

but chris just wraps his arms around you without comment, ensuring that you don’t fall flat on your ass.

he likes having you this close to him, even in a non-sexual way. sure, he’s insanely attracted to you, but he’s also found that he just likes your company, as sappy and scary as that is to him.

“oops.” you mumble into his sweatshirt, which has the familiar smell of his cologne on it, before you unravel yourself from his arms.

“you look like a baby deer trying to walk.” chris jokes with a wide smile, letting his fingers slip from your body so you can actually move around.

“shut up.” you sock his chest lightly with your fist.

he chuckles, holding a hand to the spot you hit as if you really hurt him. “hey, i’m just calling it like is it.”

“and i’m just warming up.” you argue, using one foot to propel yourself toward one end of the rink.

the more you skate around, the more confidence you gain in your ability, and the more comfortable you feel on your feet. chris follows you closely, moving with such rhythm that it almost looks like he’s floating.

“sure you are.” he drags out the ‘e’ for emphasis, doing a few little laps around you as you continue getting used to it.

“well you’re certainly not helping, you ass.” you grumble, staring down at your feet in focus.

and then you feel yourself trip up slightly, and your arms immediately fly out as you attempt to steady yourself. but you’re flailing, and chris can see the panic cross your face.

but before you tumble, he skates up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist so you can lean your weight back. his body stops you from toppling, and your heart slams hard and fast in your chest from the fright.

“careful, baby.” he says into your hair.

it sends little chills running up and down your spine, and you’re too nervous to tilt your head to look at him. you know how close his face would be if you did.

chris isn’t even sure himself why he said that, how he let the entirely new pet name slip, because he doesn’t use it with anyone. not with his brief past “girlfriends” or flings, not even with you. but now he is, and it rolled off of his tongue so easily that he feels sick.

“that’s a new one.” you practically pant, short of breath from both the near-fall and his words.

a volcano of butterflies is erupting in your stomach, and you know that’s not from the previous scare. it’s fully because of him.

fuck.

“wanna try a spin?” he deflects masterfully, and this spurs you out of your slight stupor enough to straighten up and glide away from him.

“fine, but you’re not allowed to make fun of me.”

“no promises.”

for the rest of the time spent at the rink, chris tries to keep his usual unserious demeanor going, but something has shifted, despite how minuscule the comment was. you’re both unknowingly still thinking about it on the car ride home, each wondering how the other feels.

even the goodbye is strange. he pulls you in for a quick side hug before darting back to his house, leaving you standing all alone in his driveway wondering what changed.

you sigh and turn to head back up your own front steps, slipping inside as quietly as possible even though you know cass and mona are busy in their rooms studying for upcoming exams.

it’s just you and your thoughts as you climb the stairs to your room, gnawing on your bottom lip.

you wouldn’t have been so freaked out by the pet name if he hadn’t frozen up himself, but his reaction makes you wonder if he ever meant to use it in the first place.

and even if he didn’t, why did it seem like such a big deal? its not like he hasn’t used stupid nicknames with you before.

questions fill your brain as you shuffle into your bathroom, throwing the shower on and stripping before stepping into the warm water. the pressure feels good on your shoulders, and you try and rub out some of the tension in them.

chris has just been surprise after surprise recently. you’re seeing a different side to him, one that’s seemingly emotionally invested in you, and you don’t want to let yourself believe it.

believing in someone means you can actually get hurt.

you try and relax into the steam as you rinse your hair out and shave, though it only helps a little bit. by the time you turn the faucet off and step out, you’re still just as confused.

you wrap yourself in your plush towel, tucking it so it stays as up you pad back into your room.

a song that’s been stuck in your head all day falls softly from your lips as you pick through your dresser, grabbing a pair of underwear and sliding them on, letting the towel fall the the floor.

your back is to the window as you continue scanning the drawers for one particular shirt, which is apparently elusive tonight. you’re still unsuccessful even after rummaging through every drawer, and you’re just bending down to check your hamper when your phone buzzes against the wooden cabinet.

it makes you flinch, one hand flying to your bare chest as the other reaches for the device.

chris

give me permission to come over.

now.

your eyes dart to the window as you lunge to grab your towel off of the floor. you could have sworn you closed the curtains before getting into the shower, but when you look up you’re staring right at chris.

his eyes are dark as he watches you run over to the glass, towel barely covering you as you yank them closed. your heart is hammering in your chest, and you can feel yourself breaking out into a nervous sweat.

y/n

you were NOT supposed to see that

chris

well i did

let me come over

i’m fucking serious.

y/n

my roommates are home

and that was an accident

you scramble around and throw on the first sweatshirt you can find. you don’t care what you have on anymore, as long as it’s something.

chris

then come here

y/n

no it’s already late

chris

you have no idea what you just fucking did to me

if you don’t come over i’m coming there

it’s your choice.

the string of curses that escapes your mouth are anything but kind. you have no idea what to do or how to get him off this rampage, and you despise the way your stomach is flipping from his texts.

y/n

chris.

chris

pick or i will

y/n

fucking hell

i’m coming over

you quickly pull on a pair of joggers and jam your feet into your slippers, wringing your hair out one more time. you know if you don’t hurry, chris will take it upon himself to come over here, and that’s the last thing you want right now.

your insides twist as you make your way down to the main level, out the front door and across the lawn. the inside of your cheek is irritated from the way you’re biting down on it every other second.

it’s ominously quiet tonight, and even though it’s the middle of winter, your body is on fire as if it’s a hundred degrees.

at this point, you’re not throwing caution to the wind anymore; you’re burying it in a grave.

your knuckles rap against his front door moments later. it only takes seconds for it to open, and chris tugs you inside instantly, slamming it closed behind you afterwards.

it’s not long before he has you backed against the foyer wall, his hands on either of your hips like he’s holding you there. his mouth captures yours roughly without warning, tongue gliding against your bottom lip.

there’s nothing slow or sweet about it; he’s desperate to feel every single inch of you.

chris had been mulling over his slip up in his room since you guys got home from the arena, nearly pulling his hair out just wondering what the hell his problem is.

and then he just happened to look over at your window, like he always does when he’s thinking about you, only to find you moving around in nothing but that tiny black thong.

seeing all of you exposed was like every wet dream he’s every had, and it nearly sent him over the edge right there. he needs you, in every single possible way, and there’s no use denying it anymore.

he’s practically devouring you, and you’re letting him because his lips are just so damn soft. you’re tired too, so tired of fighting your instincts, tired of fighting him.

he moves to your jawline, then to the base of your neck, his teeth grazing your skin lightly as he goes. it’s impossible to contain the light moan that escapes your mouth. chris wants to hear it over and over and over.

“nobody’s home tonight.” he mutters against your throat.

his voice is deep, muffled slightly against your body, and the vibrations combined with the feeling of the scruff of his beard makes you throb. he’s pressed against your thigh, also very clearly straining for more.

“upstairs?”

chris pulls away, a smirk playing on his lips. even in the dim lighting, you can see he’s extremely satisfied by your response.

his hand slips into yours for the second time today, pulling you toward his room impatiently. you know which door it is before he leads you through it, but its still the first time you’re seeing it from a view that’s not your window.

you recognize all of the posters, ranging from hockey stars to movies to rappers, his plush dark comforter, the gym equipment he has pushed in the corner. it’s weird, because you told yourself you’d never end up here.

before you can think more, chris pulls you to him by the waist once again, walking you backwards until your legs hit the bedframe. your knees buckle and a small gasp escapes as you fall back against the mattress.

he leans down to kiss you again swiftly, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and biting just hard enough. your fingers tangle in his soft hair so you can tug his roots.

he groans at the force, disconnecting from your lips slightly, and you see it as your opportunity.

“if we’re going to do this, we’re doing it my way.” you whisper against his mouth, trailing your hand down his body and wrapping it in his shirt so you can pull him into bed next to you.

before he can protest, you roll over to straddle him, thighs on either side of his hips. his eyes are wide in anticipation, clearly surprised by you taking charge.

“whatever you want, princess.” chris gives in, licking his lips as his hands grip the flesh of your legs like his life depends on.

“god, you’ve never sounded sexier.” you tease before you crash your mouth against his once more.

a few seconds later you switch your focus to his neck, deciding that you selfishly want to leave some hickies of your own. you suck on his skin, and a groan escapes his lips.

it spurs you on, so you rock your hips against his, grinding against his obvious hard on. his hands slide to grip your ass, giving one side a light slap as you shift against each other.

you grin against his lips, knowing that he’s becoming more and more desperate, trying to force you to move faster. but you still your hips, grinding at a tantalizingly slow pace.

chris moves one hand so his fingers can nimbly trace the bottom of your sweatshirt, pushing it up your body so he can tear it over your head. he releases a long breath as he stares at your full tits, happy that you didn’t end up finding a bra before coming over.

“fuck, i can’t do this anymore.”

he shifts, bucking his hips slightly so he can toss you off of him and crawl on top of you, trapping you between his arms.

“so impatient.” you joke, staring up at him with those gorgeous eyes he loves so much.

“been waiting way too long for you.” he breathes, hooking his thumbs underneath your pants.

you lift your hips up so he can tug them off your waist, sliding them down your legs and tossing them to his floor. his eyes wander across your body, finally able to completely take you in now that you’re right beneath him.

it makes you feel powerful, seeing the very obvious lust in his eyes as he stares at you.

“you’re fucking perfect, you know that?” chris asks, his fingers dancing across your neck so he can brush your damp hair aside.

the caress is gentle, and yet the weight of his words still makes you involuntarily clench your legs together. but he’s quick to push them back apart with his knee, forcing you to open up for him.

“don’t you dare hide now, i need to see all of you.”

he bows down between your legs so he can leave soft pecks along your collarbone, one hand groping your bare chest. you feel him creeping lower, mouth tracing down the valley of your breasts before pulling one of your nipples into his mouth.

you gasp in pleasure, and your hands tangle in his hair once more as your back arches off of the bed in need.

“oh my god, chris.” you whine, and he loves you gripping his curls.

he twitches against the inside of your thigh as his tongue flicks back and forth, so turned on by all the little noises you’re making. then he drags his wet lips over to your other hardened bud, ensuring he doesn’t neglect any part of you.

you squirm against his sheets, and the pressure of desire is quickly building in the pit of your stomach.

“feel good, baby?” he asks, confidently throwing the pet name out now.

chris doesn’t give a shit. as far as he’s concerned, you’re in his bed, and right now you’re his girl, so he’s going to call you whatever feels best in the moment. your head is so fuzzy with pleasure you don’t even pick up on it.

“so fucking good.” you encourage him desperately as he presses open-mouthed kisses along your stomach.

the further he goes, the more your gut twists itself into knots. it’s been a while since anyone has touched you like this, kissed you like this, and it’s got you needy as all hell.

finally, his mouth meets your hip bone, and another breathy moan passes your lips like a reflex.

he’s on his knees now, using both of his hands to pry your shaky legs apart, making sure he has full access to the place you need him most. his hot breath hits the wetness of your panties, and goosebumps rise on your skin.

“so desperate for me already, huh?” chris goads, applying two fingers to your clothed heat.

the pressure from his little circular motions makes you buck your hips, and he uses his free hand to try and still your movements. he’s spent far too many hours fantasizing about this moment to rush it. hes going to take his time with you.

“no, use your words, angel. tell me what you need or i’ll stop.”

it’s a demand, though he slides the black material to the side before you can even reply, just so there’s no longe a barrier between your heat and his touch. you’re dripping, and he swirls his fingers a bit harder, trying to get you to speak.

“more, chris, please.” you finally manage to beg, even though it drives you nuts being at his disposal.

“good girl, was that so hard?” chris hums, fully entranced by the pleasure that’s so apparent on your face.

one of his fingers teases your core for a few seconds before he fully slips it inside, pumping it in and out slowly. then he adds another and you’re practically writhing, unable to control your reactions any longer.

“shit.” you hiss, hands leaving his hair to grip his comforter, searching for any kind of relief.

chris curls his fingers every time he plunges them back inside of you, enjoying the way you tense every time. that being said, you’re both becoming more and more urgent, too desperate to continue the torment.

“need to feel you wrapped around me.” he grumbles, slowing his movements to a stop so he can yank his shirt over his head by the collar.

you’re pulsing from the loss of contact, already breathing heavy as you watch him slip out of his pants, taking his boxers with them. his dick springs free, and your mouth goes dry at the revelation.

he’s big, thick enough that you know you’re going to have to adjust. chris pumps himself in his hand a few times before running his shaft up and down your core, using your wetness as lube.

the feeling of his length sliding across your clit is almost unbearable, and by the way he’s panting you can tell he likes it just as much.

“no more teasing, i can’t.” you plead.

that’s enough to convince chris that he’s had his fun, so he fumbles with the drawer of his nightstand, pulling out a condom and tearing open the packet with his teeth.

he rolls the silicone over his dick before standing to line himself up at your entrance, taking a second to look down at you. your eyes are wide and your lips are puffy, and you’ve never looked more beautiful to him.

then he pushes himself inside, extra careful to take it slow at first. you both mumble curses under your breath, because the way he’s stretching you out is amazing and the feeling of your tight pussy gripping his sensitive cock is euphoric.

chris lets you adjust to his size for a minute before he begins to rock his hips back and forth, driving himself into you as he builds momentum. you clench around him with every stroke, and it’s driving him fucking insane.

“taking me so well, baby, so fucking well.” he praises gruffly.

you reach up, tugging his chain lightly to indicate that you want him closer. chris leans down so his body is flush against yours as he shifts in and out, your fingers raking his back.

he presses a hard kiss to your mouth, one hand squeezing around your throat lightly. he prays to god he’s scratched up by the end of this, because he needs a physical reminder that this is real, that he’s not dreaming.

“harder, chris.” you whimper against him, wrapping your legs around his waist so you can force him to plunge deeper inside of you.

the switch in angle also means he’s hitting a brand new spot, and you feel your stomach tighten at the sensation. your eyes screw shut as you let out a lewd moan, digging your nails into his shoulder.

chris is using all of his strength to slam into you now, growing closer and closer to his high. he won’t be able to hang on much longer, especially when you’re beneath him with your eyes rolled back into your head, lips parted like you’re begging for more.

“i love the way you look when i'm inside you, holy shit.” he’s practically breathless as he says it, his skin slapping against yours.

his name falls repeatedly from your lips like a prayer, because it’s the only word you can even think of at this point. your foreheads are pressed together, and he slides his hand down so he can brush his fingers against your clit.

it’s so much stimulation that tears begin to prick your eyes, something that’s never happened to you before. nobody’s ever made you feel this good.

“fuck!—m’so close, don’t stop.” you cry out, and your whole body is convulsing now.

you feel chris twitch inside of you, an indication that he’s on the exact same path. he moves his fingers against you faster, though his strokes grow sloppier and more desperate by the second.

“come on, princess. let it all go.”

and for once in your life you listen to him without any push back, releasing all over his dick as he simultaneously finishes into the condom.

chris slows his movements to a stop, overstimulated and fucked out as he buries his face in the crook of your neck. he presses a few wet kisses to your skin as you regain your breath, enjoying the last few seconds of closeness before he pulls out.

he flops down beside you, both of you lying on your backs and staring up at the ceiling, chests heaving as you calm down. everything has changed in just the last four hours, and neither of you are quite sure what to say.

so you don’t say anything at all. he just discards the rubber and wraps you up in his sheets with a loopy smile, pulling you so your back is against his chest.

you can feel him breathing, feel the heat radiating from his body, and you decide that logical thinking will have to wait until tomorrow. tonight, you’ll stay in his arms.

#chris sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #chris sturniolo #hockey!chris #hockey!au #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo triplets smut #fanfic #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #series

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