#temperature and temptation
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Temperature and Temptation
With summer, the school holidays arrived. To me, that meant idle time and temptation, in other words freedom. I particularly liked skulking along the Logan River’s banks checking the wild mango trees for fruit. I loved mangoes! Their sticky juice permanently stained my chin for the season. Whilst I adhered to Mother’s warnings about snakes, I didn’t abide by hers to stay away from all watercourses. Those mangoes were way too big a temptation. Mother feared I’d drown in any pool of water larger than a puddle. I thought she worried needlessly; though, her fear was reasonable in hindsight. Back then, most people couldn’t swim and nearly nobody could breathe under water. As there wasn’t any community swimming bath built in the area; I and the other local children had no opportunity to learn. Consequently, people drowned.
Alas, Mother’s threat, that she’d kill me instantly if she caught me near water, didn’t deter me. I wasn’t sure which death would be quicker, easier or the least painful; drowning or the punishment I’d receive for sticking my toe in water. Despite shying away from bath water, I stuck my feet in every pool of water I saw; unless it smelt of course. I waded in a nearby creek’s shallows on a hot day and through flash flood water to go wherever I needed. Mother never checked if my feet were dirty or clean from a dip in a puddle on the way home.
In distance terms, the Bethania Waterford area wasn’t far from the coast. Thus, summer was hot and humid. The surrounding thickets of bush trapped this heat and humidity. Fortunately, I knew where this creek was hidden amongst the dense scrub. It was located conveniently close to Pop’s and Nana’s house and just over one and a half kilometres from my home. It flowed through a string of waterholes. Some of these were large pools and others long, narrow channels. With no roads nor railway houses in the vicinity, the creek became a frequent and secret haunt of mine. I knew Mother would never find me here. Being sweaty with the heat, I often felt tempted to immerse myself in the creek’s cool waters. However, it looked deep and appeared to flow quite fast. I was alone too. My previous injury with the tomahawk near this creek had taught me not to engage in dangerous pursuits by myself.
Soon after this injury, I began hanging around regularly with Reggie. As neither of us were farmers’ children, we had time to goof about. I learned that mischief was far more enjoyable when it was shared. Which of us was the worse influence on the other was uncertain. Reggie was a neighbour’s son and was about six years older than me. As a young boy, I treated him like an older cousin. Sometimes, he doubled me on the handle bar of his bicycle to and from school. By the time I was nine, I had adopted him as my big brother. He didn’t mind. There were no other lads in the surrounding area for him to hang with either. Besides, he loved my bit of hero worship.
His father and uncle were mates with my dad. The three men were an incongruous trio just as Reggie and I were an unlikely pair. Reggie’s dad held an important job high up in the Railway; mine didn’t. Still, their Railway blood was thick. His uncle meanwhile involved himself with illicit pursuits and paid the price accordingly. Due to Dad’s friendship, Mother couldn’t disapprove of my budding bromance with Reggie.
Reggie was good to me. He taught me to be entrepreneurial. Together, we collected soft drink bottles along the railway tracks for their deposit money and halved the rewards. When his father bought him a new bicycle to accommodate his lengthening legs, he sold me his older, smaller one for the money I earnt from the bottles.
He had a talent for making fun too. One day whilst riding along a bush track, we stopped at the creek. We rode down the creek’s bank into the water as deep as we dared to go. Reggie couldn’t swim either. Nevertheless, being the taller of us, he checked the creek’s depth and thought it safe enough for us. We stripped off. Reggie was as wily as I. We didn’t need our mothers to see wet clothing. We launched our bikes off the creek bank and crashed into the water, splashing each other. We laughed loudly. I hadn’t laughed like this before. The spot became one of our favourite summer hangouts.
We became more adventurous and surveyed the creek’s length and its depths. Its central channel looked deeper than Reggie’s standing height but its width wasn’t wide. We had previously spied people swimming in it. So, we thought we’d take a dip too. Being country lads, we had our trusty rope with us. Boys always carried a rope. It could be used to drag wood home or to help climb a tree. We tied the rope to a strong looking gum. This was our lifeline to hold on to while swimming in the creek. Soon, we let it go and discovered how to dog paddle from one side of the creek to the other. We swam there often. I even hid a pair of khaki green shorts permanently in a tree to have a dip on route to Pop’s house. I no longer looked a dirty urchin. Luckily, nobody noticed!
Temptation and its friend, stupidity, beckoned Reggie and me to a larger, deeper waterhole further along the creek. On one sweltering day, this crystal clear pool of water was very enticing. I jumped into it first without a thought about the creek’s fast flowing current. This current caught me in its grasp. I valiantly tried to swim against it but it determinedly dragged me downstream. I flailed frantically, trying to swim to the creek’s bank. Reggie dived into those perilous waters, and being much stronger, pulled me to safety. If I hadn’t panicked, I probably would have floated to the bank where the creek narrowed. I answered my question about death. Drowning would be quicker, easier and less painful than Mother’s punishment.
From that day, Reggie and I respected water and its dangers. In time, we became better swimmers though not fishes like my future children would be. Neither of us would ever muster the courage to swim underwater either. At least, we didn’t fear water like our parents did even if we wouldn’t wet our toes in the Logan River. By the way, they never caught us swimming.
Sometimes, temptation is the best teacher if one survives its lessons and their consequences. Its lessons aren’t easily forgotten. The dangers aside, Reggie brought fun into my life and had my back.
#temperature and temptation#school holidays#Logan River#mangoes#swimming in waterholes#temptation#my mate Reggie
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I just can't live here because there is no day without my mother reminding me we're poor and that it fucking sucks😭😭😭 i much prefer living in a barebones dorm room at least there i am tormented by different things😭
#don't use too much hot water everyday i keep hearing that everyday but the temptation remains i need my hot showers and to forget i exist#as my skin barely withstands the temperature😓
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Swim Lessons
Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: in Jackson, you find a creative way to get Joel to come to the lake to see Ellie swim.
Warnings: unprotected sex, creampie, Joel calls you a slut or whore a few times, fingering, orgams denial, slight belly bulge, teasing, minor breeding kink (honestly I don't count it but maybe sorta), description of female reader body, low key perverted Joel, language, wet Joel is a warning itself.
18+ ONLY, minors DNI
- - - -
You were walking outside, planting flowers outside some of the main walkways when you had overheard the two of them through their kitchen window.
Ellie was begging Joel to teach her how to swim during their first summer at Jackson. There was a lake within the confines of the community that was open for fishing and, during the hot summer months, leisure swimming. What a luxury in the apocalypse.
"No."
"Please??"
"I said no."
"Wuss," Ellie mumbled under her breath.
Joel shot daggers at her, but he was not going to budge.
"Ain't going to no lake and getting my clothes wet just to watch you flail like a kid who can't swim."
"I AM a kid who can't swim, asshole. And you'd have to take your clothes off, duh."
Oh what a sight that would be.
Joel laughed out loud. "Even more reason I won't be there."
Joel turned around and noticed you leaning on the ground, your back turned towards him. He admired your silhouette, the little shorts and tank top covering your backside as you delicately turned over the soil and planted the bulbs. He was unaware that you could hear their conversation, but you were fully aware oh his eyes burning at the back of your skull.
Ellie noticed (she always notices--Joel can't help but make it so obvious when he's staring at you). "She'll be there too."
Joel scoffed, acting like be wasn't checking you out for three silent minutes straight. "Who?" He asks incredulously.
Ellie raised her eyebrows. "Bet she'll wear something cute."
Joel shook his head, acting uninterested. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute eying you up once again and trying NOT to think about the numerous bathing suits he could picture you In, all of which he'd be stripping you out of by the time the sun set.
You hear your name being called from the window by Ellie. You turn around and wave. Joel tries to dodge your eyes, a blush creeping on his face.
"Will you teach me to swim tomorrow at the lake?" Ellie asked.
"Of course!" You responded. "I'll be there at 3."
The next day, right at 3pm, Ellie was right on time. You were stretching along the sandy waterline, watching others kick around the shallow waters and diving into the depths. It was genuinely peaceful.
Ellie wore a full piece that ended in shorts, modestly covering her lower region. You could tell she was incredibly anxious to be standing around in such tight fitting and revealing clothes.
It pissed you that she was alone.
"He didn't come?"
"Said he would think about it. But he was going down for a nap when I left." She mumbled dejected. You watched her twirl her fingers anxiously, watching the dozens of kids and adults freely splashing around the water.
You knew having Joel here would help her confidence, knowing there was someone here who knew her more intimately. The one who taught her to shoot, hunt, and survive. But ultimately, having Joel here would give her someone to bully, and that was a huge confidence booster for the 14 year old.
"He'll come," you said, absolutely sure. "I'll go talk to him in a few minutes. Now let's just standing in the water for a bit, get you used to the temperature."
--
Joel was lying faceup on the couch, his arm propping his neck up against the armrest. He had no plans to go to the lake that day. The less he thought about you, the better off he'd be at resisting your temptations.
A fervent knock on the door startled him. Grumbling, he reluctantly got up from napping position and opened the door.
There were a million things he expected, but you standing there in the most revealing bikini, dripping wet all over his porch, fucking barefoot, was not one of them.
"Hey Joel!" You beamed. You could see his brain stop working as he stood there gawking at you like a fish out of water. "Ellie forgot her goggles so I'm just coming by to pick them up."
"Uhhhhh."
You had to suppress the smirk on your face as you pushed by him to jog upstairs to Ellies room. When you came back, making an obvious show of your breasts and ass bouncing down the stairs, you twirled the googles in your hand. "Got em!"
You made your way to the front door.
Joel still hadn't uttered a word. He was struggling to process what to say. He could be mad that you barged in without permission. Or that you were leaving water footprints all over the floorboards. But no, all that was on his mind was the way the water dripped down your wet hair, running down between the valley of your tits, your belly, cascading along your naval, between your legs. The way the bra did nothing but accentuate your supple breasts, pushing them up and together like they were tempting him. How gorgeous your legs looked with basically string over your hips, and the glistening of droplets against your skin just making you shine in the sun. The entire time he didn't even make eye contact with you, so unaware of the fact that he was staring at every inch of your body. His tongue slowly licked his parched lips. The only thing on his mind was bending you over his knee right now and beating you ass red--
"Ellie's making good progress. Shame you won't be there to see," you said, smile still genuine and sweet on your face as you went to the front door. He finally looks up to your eyes and blushes, quickly looking away.
"Yeah.... shame," he mumbles.
You wave goodbye--making even effort to have your tits sway with the movement, before hopping off towards the lake.
---
It takes all of 10 minutes for Joel to show up at the lake. You know it because Ellie, who was now doggy paddling in the shallow end, stood up and gave a low whistle. You were in the water with her, lying down to submerge your body, when you turned around. God, you wish you had a camera.
Joel stood in the sand awkwardly looking lost and out of place, beach towel in hand, flip-flops and (oh my GOD) actual shorts. You took a closer look, realizing this is the first time you've ever seen his legs (he's always wearing jeans) and notice they weren't swim trunks. They were fucking boxers. To your dismay, he was wear a short sleeves shirt, but none the less, this was most naked Joel had ever been in pubblic. And you could see the same nervous stance Ellie had when she first showed up too.
"Well aren't you pretty, you old fucker," Tommy muttered, whistling at Joel as well. He was sun bathing in his swim trunks, shirtless, with sunglasses.
Ellie bounced out of the water to come oogle Joel, making snide comments. Her attitude had improved immensely, just as you suspected.
"Yeah yeah, shut up." He groaned. "Where are your goggles?"
"What goggles?"
Joel stared at Ellie, then to you. He gave you a knowing, defeated look. You sunk down in to the water so he couldnt see your giggles. He sat down next to Tommy.
You came out, freshly soaking wet in your bikini.
Joel moved his beach towel to his lap, wrapping up towards his lower ribcage to conceal his belly, sitting there with hands by his side, legs bent, trying to hide his obvious boner from the world. Despite how much he eye fucked you earlier, he was doing his best to avoid looking at you now.
"So nice of you to come see Ellie, Joel," you teased. You sat down next to him, softly pressing your tits right against his muscle arm. The tips of his ears were bright red.
"You're supposed to take your shirt off and go swimming," Ellie said.
"M'fine right here. Ain't nobody need to see what's under here."
"Wuss," Ellie mumbled. Before Joel could tut her off, she was leaping back into the water. You and Joel were both extremely proud of the work she had made.
And yes, you could see the difference in her confidence now that Joel was here watching her. You both watched her splash some of the other kids, laughing and enjoying herself.
Without removing his gaze from Ellie, Joel leaned towards you. "You're a fucking tease, you know that?"
He hadn't noticed you had whipped the goggles out. You dropped them on to his lap, causing him to yelp as they grazed the tip of his erect dick under the towel. You snatched his glasses from his eyes and put them over your head, forcing him squint at you.
"I have no idea what you're talking about."
- - - -
About two hours later, most people had gone home to enjoy a summer nap after a day at the lake. The sun was setting beyond the trees. Joel waved Tommy goodbye, leaving just him, you, and Ellie. You had fallen asleep under an umbrella (an umbrella Joel had to put over you so you didn't burn in the sun while you slept.)
He took his shirt off and slipped into the lake, encouraging Ellie to go deeper into the water, promising he'd be right next to her. You had awoken to both of them comfortably in the water together, Ellie splashing Joel and getting his fluffy hair all wet and tampered down. It made your heart swell to watch the two of them exist as they are without anyone else.
You did your job. Time to go home.
You had started rolling up your towel when Joel's wet hand reached out and grabbed you. You turned around and saw him dripping wet, finally shirtless. Fuck he was even more imposing with less clothing. His soft belly did nothing to lessen his broad shoulders and strong built. Your eyes drifted down to his boxers, now clinging to his muscle thighs and hips and the outline of his big fucking c---
Joel smirked to himself, seeing the blush creep on your face. He realized how the reversal of your roles from earlier still garnered the same reaction.
"Thanks again for coming to teach Ellie to swim," you piped, hoping it wasn't obvious the effect his body had on you for a change.
"You were the one teaching her most of it. Just came to watch."
"Me or Ellie?" You smirked.
Joel rolled his eyes. He would never admit that the main reason he came was to watch you strut around in that pathetic excuse of a bikini for hours. Once you had given him a taste at his front door and left, he botled upstairs, dug through his clothes, searching for swim trunks. He didn't want to see too out of the ordinary when he showed up to eye fuck you for the rest of the evening. Not having a single pair of swim shorts wasn't going to stop him from seeing you in your glory.
He glanced back down to your breasts (now realizing you were pushing your arms together to accentuate their plumpness right at him), licking his lips. Seductively bringing his darkened gaze back to you, you felt your pussy throb with need.
He clearbed his throat. "Well, I was wonderin' if you wanted to--"
Before he could finish, Ellie had slapped a hand on Joel's back, barging in the conversation. "I am soooo pruney! Anyway, thanks for teaching me to swim!" She wrapped Joel's towel around his shoulders.
You and Joel both say at the same time "You're welcome."
Ellie took one look at the pair of you before loudly announcing, "Im going to Dina's tonight. Bye!" Before running off.
And then there were two.
You shuffled awkwardly, avoiding his eyes by playing with the sand below your feet. "You were saying? Wondering if I wanted to ... get swim lessons from you too?"
"Ha. No. Sure you're a fantastic swimmer. No. Wonderin' if you wanted to come to my place tonight."
"Oh? What for?" You teased.
He leaned closer, his fingers dragging your chin so you stare up as he pressed his wet body against yours. He rolls his bottom lip between his teeth before answering: "'Cause I'm not fucking you in some nasty lake."
You gulp, never expecting him to he so forward. For once, he had you speechless while he enjoyed your freezed reaction.
You two had barely made it through his front door before he was shoving his lips on yours, moaning into the kiss. Your lips were dry from the hours in the sun and water, but he was so thirsty for a taste of you that he couldn't care in the slightest.
"Teasin me all day with this fuckin bikini," he groaned, pulling the thin string that held your bilinki top together from the back. The top fell right off, his hands immediately replacing them to rub your breasts. "Knew these tits would be gorgeous," he moaned into your mouth, making you shiver. You closed your lips around his again, feeling his hands travel down your back till they reached your ass, giving a firm squeeze. "Can't believe you went out wearing a fucking thong and calling it a bathing suit."
"This IS a bathing suit," you laughed, licking his bottom pouty lip. "Least I didnt wear actual underwear."
He bit your earlobe, pressing you against the wall. "Gave you something to think about, didn't it?" His fingers were pushing your bottoms aside and rubbing along your soaked folds. You keened into his mouth, eyes closing with head thrown back. You could feel his hot breath on your face. "Fuckin knew you'd be soaked. Not just talkin about the water. Drenched cunt just from lookin at me, huh? Filthy slut."
Holy FUCK he had a mouth, and you couldn't help but feel more aroused from his words.
He continued to stroke your clit with his thumb, two fingers seaking your hole and plunging in at once. "Oh, fuck, Joel!"
He propped his knee between your legs, preventing you from closing them. He let you grind your pussy against his palm while he worked both fingers fast, curling, pulling then pushing in fast rythm, hitting your g spot with deadly precision.
"You like this?"
"Ah huh!"
"Say it."
"I like it! Oh J--m' gonna cum!"
Joel immediately withdrew his fingers, making you whine at the emptiness. "What the f--"
"Teachin everybody some lessons today." He kissed each cheek. "You're gonna learn not to tease me like that."
He continued to press his lips all over you you, refusing to put his fingers back on your aching clit. He resorted to grinding his wet bulge against your mound. You gasped at the sheer size of him, desperately needing that thing inside you.
Between kisses, you had gripped his hair which had now started to curl again around the roots. You managed to say, "Shower."
Joel scooped you up bridal style and carried you up the stairs. He placed you down in the bathroom slapping your ass.
"Take that rudiculous thing off," he ordered, nodding to your bikini bottom while he stripped off his own wet clothes off.
Your thighs clenched at the sight of his erect dick bouncing up to his soft tummy, standing tall, dripping a healthy amount of precum. It was flush red, angry at the tip, pulsing towards you. "See what ya do to me?" He wrapped a thick hand around the shaft, pumping it slowly while watching you. "Been like this all day cuz of you."
Your eyes never left it as you stepped backwards into the shower. He followed you in, shutting the curtains behind him.
While you turned on the shower and adjusted the heat, you could feel his lips met the back of your neck, slowly trailing down your shoulders and back up your spine. His stiff cock pressed between your silky thighs, rutting against your ass each time with desperate thrusts. You could feel your cunt aching at his earlier denial of your orgasm. You sigh heavily once the heat sprays you both. "Should get clean first before our mouths get too busy."
Joel nodded. You had lathered each other up, taking extra care to slick up his dick while he rubbed suds all over your ass, tits, and folds. He grunted, smiling when you would twist your wrist at the tip before fisting his cock repeatedly.
"Beautiful," he whispered against your lips.
His hand crept lower to your ass then down one thigh, hosting it up and around his hip as he drove your back against the slick wall. His other hand notched his cock at your entrance, teasing it.
"Gonna be a good girl and take this, yes?"
You bit your lip, avoiding his eyes. Of course you wanted to take that big fucker, ride his dick until morning. But you wanted to see how far he'd go just to "teach you a lesson."
Joel didn't like your lack of response. You felt a bot hand wrap around your throat, straitening you up. He pressed his face so close, his nose pushing against your cheek.
"SAY IT."
"'m gonna be a good girl, take your cock," you pleaded, unable to put up a farsce anymore. You smirked, and God, you were gonna be the death of him.
Joel impaled you on his full length in one thrust. You gasped, head slamming against the tile. "Ow!"
Joel's hand gently cupped the back of your head, rubbing the ache. "You okay?" He asked. He stayed still inside you.
You were so overwhelmed with how full you felt, how he just throbbed against your walls, that the pain in your head subsided quickly with his soft touch. "Just fuck me, pretty boy," you moaned.
He brought his lips to yours before beginning his assault, bringing both legs around his waist as he fucked you against the wall.
You had noticed it earlier when he emerged from the water with Ellie. How he'd run his hands in his wet hair, the wait it plastered smoothly against his head. It made him look both younger and older all at once. Mature and aloof, bold and serious, yet tender and like a playboy. It made you realize just how badly you wanted to be in this position right now, his cock ramming against your cervix, taking you like you were his.
"Little pussy so fucking tight, baby," he growled against your chest. "Fucking made to take my cock, ain't that right?"
You nodded again, whimpers and little shootings being the only sounds that could escape you.
As the water washed away the suds from your body, Joel took the opportunity to suck one breast in his mouth, biting your nipple. You dragged your hands into his hair, clenching tightly, wanting less, wanting more, wanting him.
His lower belly was grinding perfectly against your clit, your climax finding you quickly. "Joel," you warned.
"Go ahead, baby. You earned it. Cum on my cock."
And you were, arms wrapped around his broad shoulders as you cum, cum and cum, pent up from not just today but from the weeks and weeks you had been teasing, trying, testing Joel, just to get you here. You smiled sadistically, still on cloud nine, rubbing your pussy against him.
Joel glances down at the sight of his cock disappearing into your warm heat. "Ooohh f-fuck baby. Look at that."
You looked down with him, watching a slight bulge appear and disappearing against your lower tummy with each puncture of his cock deep inside you. He pressed a palm flat against it, your walls clamping down on his dick even harder. "So big, Joel. Fills me up so good."
"Yeah? Been thinking about this cock filling you forever, haven't you? Doing whatever to get me to fuck you. M gonna give it to you, sweet pea. Every fucking day. Every night. Just keep those legs spread f'me, ya hear?"
"Yes yes yes yes, oh God yes, Joel!" You could already feel a second orgasm building inside you. You leaned back further into the wall, leveraging yourself to help bounce on his cock with each thrust.
"Little whore. Fucking yourself on my cock like that. Gotta ride my dick like this later tonight, okay? Ain't gonna last much now. Been needing you too much." He was grunting into your shoulder now, letting out needy groans as he neared his end. "Where do ya want?"
You shouldnt. Should be smart about this. Especially your first time with him. Especially in the apocalypse. Especially without any protection. But Your body had a mind of its own now, that familiar feeling climbing higher and higher deep inside you. Your ankles hitch around his back, caging him against you, reducing him to shallow, deep thrusts inside.
Joel could feel your tight draw to him. He smiled against your neck, thrusts picking up pace. "Tell me. Need to hear ya say it."
You gripped his hair again, making him moan, yanking him back to look you in the eyes. "Want your cum inside me, Joel Miller."
He drove his hips into yours like a mad man, fucking himself as deep as possible, teeth gritting, never once breaking eye contact, and then suddenly the both of you were seizing up, eyebrows scrunched together, mouths agape but pressed together as your orgasms washed over you. You could feel hot ropes of his cum pump deep inside, one, two, threefourfive--six healthy strings of pulses, emptying his load into your womb.
You both panted loudly, the only other sounds being the steady cascade of water down the drain. Joel peppered your lips in light kisses as you both came down from your highs. You could hardly form your lips to return the kisses, instead now realizing just how light headed you were feeling after the best cum of your life. Joel felt your legs loosen, barely catching yourself, as his cock slipped from your embrace. Strong arms didn't let go of you, watching as your eyes close, blissfully, your skin hot from the water.
He turned off the water and carried you to the bed, gently lying you down. He dried you up with a towel, with extra care against your battered pussy. Copious amounts of his cum was leaking, and he had to restrain himself from putting his hot tongue between your legs to clean you up, enjoy the taste of both of your mixed cum bit more. No, you were half passed out, skin aflamed from the hot shower. You needed tending.
He disappeared from the room for a moment, naked wet ass and all, before reappearing with a bottle.
"Need to start hydrating more if you're gonna be out in the sun all day, lady." He helped tilt your head up so you could take gulps of much needed water. You broke away to breath heavily, some water slipping down your chest. Joel didn't hesitate to drag his tongue up your skin, sucking the water off. You smiled dreamily.
"That's what you're here for."
- - - -
You napped, fucked again, ate, sucked his cock, then he ate you out, fell asleep, and then woke up with his cock buried inside you again.
The next morning, Joel got an angry Maria banging on his door, cussing him out for using too much water for your extra long shower yesterday, causing a shortage of heat and fresh running water for the surrounding 6 homes.
#pedro pascal smut#joel miller fan fiction#joel miller smut#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you
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Would you write a dark and toxic romance fic?
For instance, Carlos Sainz has a girlfriend. F1 has an influencer program and invites a lingerie model to a race. Carlos is highly attracted to her, basically on his knees for her. She doesn't want to get involved and pushes him away. Carlos can't stop thinking about her and wants her more every time he sees her. He starts to try and seduce the model. She secretly enjoys his touch and pet names, dirty talks and etc., but stops him every time. Under some circumstance they finally fuck, Carlos is obsessed with making her feel pleasure. After that she's avoiding him but all Carlos wants is more of her. She even prohibits the driver from braking up with his gf. Carlos obey but in exchange wants the model to be his friend with benefits
**Not dark sorry**
Lady in Red (1) || CS55
Pairing: Carlos Sainz Jr x fem!reader
Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, cheating
WC: 2.7k
One || Two || Three || Four
You tried to resist him, you really did. You could honestly put a hand on your heart and swear you turned down the advances he made but he was persistent.
“You’re riding with me, hermosa.” You jumped at the Spanish driver's voice in your ear, not realising he had managed to get so close to you without noticing.
“I’m meant to be in Charles' car,” you replied as your heart rate crept up, like his cleverly hidden hand on your ribs.
“Plans changed, now I get you all to myself.”
Each day you found it harder to fight the urge to give into him. The nights left you tossing in an empty bed as you imagined all the filthy things he had whispered in your ear each time he passed. This promotion with F1 and Ferrari in particular needed to end soon or, so help you, the temptation would be too much.
A clap of hands drew your attention away from Carlos and the professional photographer waved you forward to the red sports car waiting for you. You were accustomed to being the envy of the men around you, you were literally paid to lure them in with your body and the lingerie you paraded. This promotion was no different, only it seemed to be working a little too well on one man in particular - a man who was in a very public relationship.
“Gorgeous, honey!” Cristiano blew a kiss as he snapped away on his camera, capturing your poses on the hood of the car effortlessly.
It would have been a lie to say you hadn’t noticed Carlos shuffle his way through the lighting staff and makeup artists to get a better view. You noticed, and you played with fire.
Carlos tugged at the collar of his race suit as his body temperature spiked. He had never been so enthralled by a woman before and he couldn’t let you leave without taking a bite of the forbidden fruit. The way you sat on the hood of his car made his blood race and when you leaned back and spread your legs as you looked to the sky, he swore that he had found the altar to worship on his knees for.
Carlos bit his lip and vowed to take you like that before the campaign was over. He was going to have you, he didn’t care what he had to do to make it happen - there was no price he wouldn’t pay, and everyone had a price.
Cristiano spotted Carlos edging forward, his shadow interfering with the light and snapped his fingers at the man. “You, red man, go to her.”
Carlos didn’t need any encouragement as he strode confidently to his car and looked down at your reclined position with a dark smile. “How do you want me?”
Your lips parted with an answer before you realised he was speaking to Cristiano and snapped your mouth closed but Carlos’ smirk grew. “Do you have something to say, hermosa?”
“I thought this was a lingerie shoot.”
“I can strip down for you, I have no problem with that,” he said as he reached for his collar but you caught his hand to stop him.
“I think your girlfriend would have a problem with that.”
“Then don’t think about my girlfriend.”
“Red man, baby, you’re too stiff. Relax and take a seat,” Cristiano called out, curling a finger for you to stand up. Carlos took your place on the hood and an assistant darted across the track with his helmet. “Okay, honey, turn around and do your thing.”
You inwardly cursed as you faced Carlos and saw your reflection in the tint of his visor, the bright red lace you wore matching his suit perfectly.
“Do your thing, hermosa,” he dared from the helmet as he lifted his feet to the front bumper and spread his knees for you to step between.
You told yourself this was just a job, that the chemistry was purely for camera, as you placed your hands on his knees and arched your back before looking over your shoulder. The sound Cristiano made was pure excitement and he snapped a few shots with encouragement to do more.
“Fuck, you are beautiful,” Carlos groaned as your position thrust your breasts into his line of vision and he all but whimpered when you turned around.
You didn’t have to fake the pleasure on your face when you leaned back against Carlos and tipped your head back onto his shoulder, looking up under your lashes as you bit your lip. Without needing direction, his hands found your hips and pulled you flush against his body and your hand reached up, slipping beneath the back of his helmet to tug the strands of hair you caught.
“How wet are you, hermosa?” he whispered in your ear. “I bet you are absolutely dripping for me.”
You crossed your legs as naturally as you could in the stiletto heels and felt his chest bounce with a laugh. “Don’t be shy now. We are just getting started.”
His hands burned your skin as they slowly rose up your body and you didn’t dare breathe until they reached the cup of your bra and you pushed away from the car. You were at risk of doing something very stupid if you stayed there a moment longer. “What’s next?” you asked the director, silently begging it to be something solo so you could recover from being so close to Carlos.
But your wish was ignored.
“Some hot laps, you’re with Carlos.”
You looked longingly at Stacy who was making her way to Charles’ car but your view was interrupted by Carlos and the arm he threw over your shoulders, turning you to the passenger door. “Ready, cariña?”
“Carlos…” your words died out as he opened the door and gave you a look that dared you to moan his name again so you silently took your seat.
“Open your legs.”
“No!” you gasped before looking at your lap and seeing the seatbelt was nothing like ones you had worn in the past. This one had a buckle between your thighs. “Oh.”
“Don’t act like you didn’t think about it,” he chuckled as he reached for the metal clasp, a hiss of air escaping your clenched teeth when his knuckles brushed over your panties. “It is humid here, isn’t it? Very moist.”
“Oh my god,” you groaned.
“What? I am talking about the weather. Unless you know of something else that is moist?”
“Please stop saying that word.”
“How about wet? Do you like that? You can tell me what you like, I am a very good listener.”
“I would like you to please focus on driving.”
“Relax, I am good at multitasking.”
“Like having a girlfriend and still trying to get my attention?”
Carlos scoffed before closing the door and walking around to his side. “Cariña, I’m not ‘trying’ anything, I had you the moment you walked in my garage.”
“It’s not going to happen.”
The engine started with a purr and your heart skipped a beat as Carlos smirked to himself. “We’ll see about that.”
Your entire body was trembling by the time the car came to a screeching halt at the start of the track. Adrenaline flooded your body and after the thrilling speeds that Carlos had driven at the world seemed to spin too slow. You wanted that heady feeling again, it was addictive.
Carlos had barely paid attention to the track as the sounds that you made drained his brain of his blood and sent it straight to his dick. He took the turns faster so your shoulders brushed with his and he hit the chicanes harder to see your perfect tits bounce in the barely-there bra.
“Dinner, tonight,” Carlos stated as he turned the car off and reached over to the buckle and pushed it in. The plastic pressed to the juncture of your thighs and a moan escaped before you could suppress it and he grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”
Carlos knocked at your hotel door right on time and you checked yourself over once more before opening it. After seeing how he had reacted to the red Ferrari & I.D Sarrieri lingerie crossover set at the photoshoot, you found an equally racy dress in the same shade of rouge.
“I thought we were going out?” you asked as you saw a tray balanced in his hand.
The look he gave you was truly devilish as he dragged his eyes down your body and back up to your face. “I prefer to eat in.”
He slipped past you and hooked his shoe on the door, kicking it closed. You stared at his back as he walked deeper into your hotel room before he turned and curled a finger, beckoning you to join him in the dining room.
“Shit,” you murmured to yourself as you took a step towards him without meaning to and thought, I’m in trouble.
Carlos placed the covered tray on the table and pulled out a chair before holding his hand out for you. Against your better judgement, you placed your hand in his and let him pull you closer. His arms curled around your back as your hands settled on his shoulders as he smiled triumphantly.
“I finally have you all to myself, hermosa.”
One hand slipped down your back but you couldn’t find the energy to fight his advances as his palm caressed the swell of your ass. You were just trying to figure out how to make your lungs breathe again when his lips stole what little air you had left.
You curled your body against him as his tongue lashed across you lips and they parted on instinct as you wanted more.
“This dress is killing me,” he groaned as his hand travelled further down until he reached the hem and dragged it up over your hips. Cool air kissed your skin that was completely bare beneath the dress. “Looks like you had plans of your own.”
Your head fell back with a moan as his lips sealed over the racing pulse in your neck. “I didn’t want lines showing on the dress,” you lied, because the fantasy of this moment had crossed your mind. You just hadn’t thought about the possibility of letting it go this far in real life.
You felt his teeth graze your skin as he smiled at the lie and his hands gripped your hips before he lifted you onto the table. “What are you…”
Your words faded out as he dropped into the chair and licked his lips at the sight before him. “Eating in.”
You screwed your eyes shut knowing you were going straight to hell with a Ferrari red A pinned to your dress. You screwed your eyes shut as he kissed your left calf and placed your heel on the arm of his chair before doing the same to the right.
“Cariño,” he murmured between the kisses and bites he trailed up your thighs before he lashed his tongue through your folds. “Hmm, you are so wet for me.”
You reached for his thick, dark hair and combed your fingers through it as you gave into the temptation. You tightened your fingers in the strands and pulled him back to where you needed him most. “Hasn’t anyone told you not to talk with a mouthful?”
“Where are my manners,” he chuckled, his breath scorching on your skin. “Let me make it up to you.”
Your head thumped back on the tabletop as he completely devoured you, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue. The chandelier above you was almost as bright as the stars that danced around your vision as the man made a buffet of you. You had never had someone put so much passion into eating your pussy and it showed as your first orgasm quickly built and wracked your body with undulating waves of pleasure that he eagerly lapped at.
“You taste so fucking good, hermosa,” he praised as he lazily traced his fingers along your dripping slit and he rose to his feet. Your mind was in a haze and you smiled dumbly as you looked up at Carlos to see his lips glossy with your come.
“You are a filthy man,” you purred as he swiped his thumb over his bottom lip before licking it clean.
“We’re just getting started,” he teased as he reached over to the tray and lifted the lid. “Strawberry?”
You parted your lips as he dipped the sweet fruit in the tub of chocolate sauce but instead of giving you a taste, he drizzled the chocolate over the swell of your breasts. You didn’t care if it ruined the dress because his lips were on your skin, his fingers pulling the material down to bare your breasts before his tongue swirled around them.
“Fuck, Carlos,” you cried as he sucked your nipple to hard peaks. Your body burned for more, your back arching as your hips rolled in search of friction to ease the ache to be filled. “Fuck me, please.”
He didn’t need to be told twice as he reached into his pocket for a condom before unzipping his trousers. You were impatient, squirming on the table as he tore into the foil and rolled the sheath down his hard length. You sat up at the edge of the table and surprised him as you wrapped your hand around his cock, guiding him to your entrance as he watched on hungrily.
“Take it, cariña, take it,” he grunted deeply as he inched himself into your tight cunt until your bodies were pressed to each other. Your legs wrapped around his hips, your nails dug into his back, your teeth buried in his neck and he cried out your name as he snapped his hips forward.
Guilt ate at you as you dressed the next morning. The evidence of what you did was buried under layers of makeup and you swore it couldn’t happen again. Carlos was in a relationship, that should have been enough to stop you.
But he was persistent.
“Stop, someone might see,” you growled as you put your hand on his chest to stop him getting any closer. He had cornered you in a private room of Ferrari’s hospitality while you reapplied concealer to your neck.
“No ones going to come in here,” he chuckled as he easily brushed your hand aside and pulled you against him. “Don’t you want me to make you feel good again?”
“No,” you lied, your body betraying you as your nipples hardened in the thin bralette you had been scheduled to model. “Go.”
“Your lips say one thing but your hips say another,” he teased. “One touch, cariña, one touch and if you’re not wet for me then I’ll go. One. Touch. Deal?”
“No…”
“Why not?” he asked knowingly.
“Because…”
“Yes?”
You looked away from his darkening eyes and clenched your thighs together. “Because I want you to but you have a girlfriend, Carlos. This is wrong.”
“Then I’ll break up with her,” he offered, like it was the most obvious solution in the world, and pulled his phone from his pocket.
“What! No,” you gasped, grabbing the device. “You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to be the reason, and this was a mistake.”
His hands went back to drawing small circles over your hips and you felt yourself relaxing before you caught yourself and pushed him away. “I’m serious, Carlos, once this promo is finished we aren’t going to see each other again.”
“Then let’s enjoy it while it lasts.” His pout had you sighing in defeat. You had already crossed the line once, did the number of times really matter after that? “I’ll make you another deal, I won’t break up with Rebecca if you have dinner with me again.”
You knew exactly what he meant and exactly what was on the menu but you lied to yourself. “Just dinner,” you clarified as his smirk grew.
“Just dinner.”
Click here for part two.
#carlos sainz imagine#carlos sainz fanfic#carlos sainz smut#carlos sainz x reader#formula 1 fanfic#formula one smut#formula one imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 smut
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Spring Heat (18+) | Loki x Fem!Reader
banner created by the amazing @springdandelixn
A/N: You help your husband through his yearly heat, which is part of the Jotun mating cycle. He's afraid he might hurt you, but you are determined to stay...
I wrote this for @springdandelixn and her Double-Trouble Sleepover! Congratulations, Beanie, my love! I hope you enjoy this little fic that I put together for you 🖤
Genre/Warnings: Jotun mating cycle AU, smut (18+), rough sex, choking, dubcon? (everything is consensual but Loki is not entirely in control of himself), language, light angst, fluff too, filth with feeling, established relationship
Word Count: 3182
The sights and sounds of springtime were all around you as you strolled through the palace grounds —
The busy twittering of birds as they searched for food and fought over tree branches on which to build their nests.
The chattering of squirrels and rabbits and other small animals as they came out of hiding to begin a new season of life.
The rich shade of green returning to the grass in the meadow, speckled with pops of color where wildflowers were beginning to bloom.
Speaking of blooming flowers -- the palace gardens were thriving, and in the next couple of weeks were sure to become a spectacle of color, ranging from delicate pastel hues to bright, vibrant tones. Just in time for the Spring Festival that would be held at the end of the month.
Yes, spring was upon you. Your favorite season. It meant warmer temperatures and sunshine and new life.
But despite all the bright cheerfulness that spring brought with it, for your husband, Loki, it also brought with it a certain darkness.
His heat.
Loki was of Jotun blood; a Frost Giant. And with that heritage came certain Jotun traits, some more easily embraced than others. One such trait that your husband found more loathsome than the rest was the Jotun mating cycle.
Each year since his body matured, around the time of the Spring Equinox, Loki would find himself at the mercy of his primal instincts. Unable to control his animalistic urges to mate, he’d lock himself in his chambers until it would pass.
That is, until you had something to say about it.
When you learned of the agony he endured — both physically and emotionally — locked in his chambers for anywhere from one week to one month until his heat cycle passed, you couldn’t bear it. You had to do something to help, if you could.
You remembered the conversation you’d had with him well. It was shortly after your wedding…
————
“Loki, isn’t there anything that would make it easier to endure? Or at least make it come to an end more quickly? I can’t imagine a week of that, let alone a month.”
“Unfortunately, no, darling. There isn’t really anything that can be safely done to help it. The healers can give me an elixir that will suppress it, but I can’t take it every year, or it would lose its effectiveness. And besides, a heat the year after a suppressed heat is always more intense and agonizing.”
Your eyebrow cocked, looking at him with curiosity. “You sound like you’re speaking from experience…?”
He took a deep breath before answering, “Yes, I’ve taken suppressants occasionally in the past. The temptation of a year of reprieve was too great for me to resist at times. But I always found that the following year’s heat was far worse than what is typical. More desperation, more madness, more… pain.”
Your heart broke for him in that moment.
“Why does it last so long, Loki?”
He gave a mirthless chuckle. “It lasts as long as it takes for one of two things to happen. Either it quite literally burns its way out of my system, like a fever that takes weeks to break. Or…”
His voice trailed off, and he looked off into the distance, as if he was searching for his thought amongst the forests and rolling hills.
“Or…?” You gently encouraged him to continue.
Loki let out an exasperated sigh and quietly admitted, “Or… I mate. Breed. Fuck.”
Something about the way he enunciated the hard ‘k’, his Adam’s apple bobbing sinfully as the sound clicked in his throat, had your core throbbing with need and a wave of hot arousal unfolding over your body.
You blinked a few times as you contemplated what he said. “Well that seems easy enough,” you replied cooly, as if you were discussing the weather.
“What…?” He looked at you, perplexed.
“If having a good fuck will bring your agony to an end, then that seems like an easy solution to me. I can help you with that —”
“NO!” His rich baritone voice boomed as it cut you off, dripping with authority, anger, and — was that fear? “You don’t understand, my love. I am not myself when this happens. I lose myself, I lose control. I no longer am capable of keeping up the Asgardian façade; my Jotun form takes over and I am overcome with the primal desire to mate. I lose all regard for decency, I become… a monster. I am a monster.”
“Loki…” you reached a hand up to caress the side of his stupidly beautiful face, running your thumb soothingly along his sharp cheekbone and slotting your palm against his chiseled jaw, which was tightly clenched. A sign of his distress. “I love you, Loki. Let me help you through this.”
“I love you too, darling. More than my life itself. Which is exactly why I can’t let you do this.” He wrapped his large hand around the back of yours and turned his head to the side to tenderly kiss your palm. “It isn’t safe. I could hurt you. Badly.”
“I trust you, Loki. I trust you with my life, no matter what physical form you assume.” The next words you uttered came to you as easily as breathing, “I want to do this. Please. Use me. Use my body to sate your desires and end your own suffering.”
His emerald eyes widened at your words, most likely shocked at how brazen and self-assured they were. But swirling behind the shock was something else. Reverence. Trepidation. And lust.
He slowly swallowed, gathering himself together and collecting his thoughts after you scrambled them with your salacious plea.
“Alright then, darling.” He cautiously relented, his eyes boring into yours, searching for any sign that you were having second thoughts or hints of doubt. “Come springtime, when my next heat cycle is upon me, I’ll let you help me. I’ll let you be the balm that soothes my burning, searing ache.”
————
And now, spring was upon you. And any day now, it would be time to make good on your promise to him. For better or worse. You suddenly had a renewed appreciation for the words you spoke in your wedding vows to him, just 8 months ago.
Loki has been warning you for the past few days that his heat is imminent, and could take over at any time. He could feel it; all the warning signs were there. The restlessness. The irritability. The discomfort. Crawling under his skin like an itch he can't scratch. Until it makes him snap.
Each and every time, he asked if you were still sure. He reminded you that you could change your mind, that he didn't expect you to do this. That he'd never expect you to do this. It was entirely your choice.
And each and every time, you stood firm in your decision. You wanted to help him. You would do this.
The sun was beginning to set on your evening stroll, so you altered your route so that it would lead you back towards the private chambers that you shared with Loki. As you approached the hallway which led to your shared door, you could feel a distinct, unseasonal chill in the air.
Was this it? Was tonight the night?
Once you reached the ornate wooden door, you noticed a thin blanket of frost coating the edges of it, as if, behind the door, was the force of winter itself, its icy chill seeping through the gaps between the door and the frame.
You reflected for a moment on the irony that all this frost and chill was the result of something called a heat, and you couldn't help but chuckle to yourself.
But then you remembered that not just fire, but ice, too, can burn.
A shiver rolled down your spine, and the cold seeping through the doorframe wasn't entirely to blame.
You took a moment to gather your courage, reminding yourself that this was Loki. Your husband. Your one true love.
You could do this.
You softly knocked, each tap of your knuckles against the cold wood sending a jolt of bravery through you.
"Loki... can I come in?"
"Pet..." The voice that answered you was familiar, but more... ragged. It was deeper, if that was even possible, and assumed a huskiness that made your usually gentle husband sound nothing short of feral.
It sent a surge of hot, wet arousal through you, which pooled between your thighs.
"I'm here, Loki..." you whispered like a prayer. "Let me help you."
"This is your last chance, pet," he warned. "You can still change your mind. But the moment you open the door, I'm afraid there will be no going back."
Good thing you had no plans of going back.
You opened the door and stepped into your chambers; after ensuring the door was closed and locked, you took a deep breath. This was it.
As you turned around, you came face to face with your husband.
Except he wasn't quite the Loki you knew. For one thing, he was taller. Much taller. At least 8 feet tall. You briefly wondered how you'd be able to take him in this form. His usually porcelain skin was replaced with a brilliant cerulean, and across every bit of blue that your hungry eyes could find, were ridges that swept across his skin in bold strokes and delicate lines, forming intricate patterns that you longed to trace with your fingers. As your eyes settled on his face, you found some familiarity there. You recognized the bone structure and the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips; the luscious raven locks that framed his angular face were unchanged. But in place of the emerald orbs that you knew and loved were two glistening rubies, staring at you with an intensity that could only be described as ferocious.
He was beautiful. Flawless. You saw no monster before you. Only your husband. Showing you a side of himself that he has kept hidden from you. Until now.
You broke the silence first, and simply muttered, "I love you, and I am here. Use me."
And that was all the permission he needed.
He closed the distance between you impossibly fast, like a predator stalking its prey, and wrapped an icy hand around your throat, squeezing firmly, the coldness stinging like pins and needles against your skin.
His lips met yours with an urgency that you hadn't experienced before; any hint of gentleness was gone and in its place a brutal clash of tongues and teeth as he claimed your mouth, a throaty growl slipping past his lips as he basked in the taste of you on his tongue.
Fear crept up your spine for the first time since you entered, and you brought your small hands up to claw at his wrist, a desperate attempt to let him know that you needed a break; you needed to breathe.
Something within him seemed to get the message, because he peeled his mouth away from yours and released your throat, repurposing his hand to wrap around your midsection and toss you unceremoniously onto the large bed in the center of the room.
You had to admit that part of you enjoyed the way he was manhandling you.
He wasted no time freeing himself from his garments and strode towards the bed, where he situated himself over you, caging in your small frame like a hungry animal about to enjoy the spoils of its hunt.
You gulped at the sight of his enormous cock, as it bobbed angrily against his stomach, covered in the same ridges that decorated the rest of his body, the tip weeping with the evidence of his primal desire. For you.
"These pretty silks have got to go," he rasped against your ear, his breath somehow both hot and cold.
He roughly grabbed the fine fabric and you winced as you heard him rip it to shreds as easily as if your dress was made of flower petals from the garden.
Within seconds, you were bare before him, and his ravenous gaze lazily roamed over your body, savoring every dip and every curve like the sight of you alone could sate him.
Even though that couldn't be further from the truth.
When he decided that his eyes had had their fill, he brought two fingers up to prod against your lips, his gaze meeting yours, daring you to defy him.
But you didn't dare.
You submissively parted your lips and wrapped your mouth around his fingers, astonished at how much your mouth had to stretch just to accommodate them. A wicked smile tugged at his lips as your tongue danced over his digits, preparing them for exploration of another warm, wet hole.
A gasp escaped your lips as his fingers were abruptly pulled from your mouth and pushed inside your weeping cunt. They pumped and stretched you almost as much as his normal cock would, and you shuddered at the thought of what was to come.
The nerves melted away though, as his thumb found your clit and worked the sensitive nub in sweeping circles, pleasure taking over your senses and lulling you into a state of calm.
"Loki..." you whispered softly between your whimpers and pants.
He growled in response, withdrawing his fingers from your soaked pussy and wrapping his hand around your thigh, forcing your legs open as wide as they would go.
Before you had a chance to adjust to the new position, his huge cock was at your slick entrance and he thrust forward, forcing as much of himself inside you as he could, his girth stretching your walls and the tip pushing against your cervix. The sudden intrusion took your breath away, and the stinging pain you felt caused unshed tears to well in your eyes. The coldness of his skin only heightened the sensations, forcing your mouth open in a silent scream as he claimed you.
You loved him. You wanted this. You silently reminded yourself as a large blue hand found your throat once again and wrapped around tightly.
A feral moan left his lips as he began to rut into you roughly. Pushing himself in as far as your body would allow. Over and over. Chasing his own pleasure without regard for your own.
"So warm... So tight... You take me so well, pet." He grunted between thrusts. "You're mine."
You couldn't help the fresh pool of arousal that gushed between your legs in response to his words. Even as he wrecked your body and used it like a toy, you loved nothing more than being his.
His rhythm became sloppy and you knew he was close.
With a wild growl, he pulled out of you and violently flipped you over onto your stomach. You were thankful you were on the mattress and not on the floor in that moment.
His large hands dug into your hips, pulling them upwards and angling you so that he could sink himself once again into your tight cunt. You turned your head to the side, gasping for air between shameless moans as he pounded into you from behind like an animal.
It didn't take long for him to reach his peak; he let out a primal roar as he came, pumping you full of his seed. You felt it leaking out of you, dripping down your inner thighs as he continued to shallowly thrust into you while he rode out his high.
And that was the last thing you remembered before darkness blurred the edges of your vision and you succumbed to exhaustion, your body limp and spent.
--
Later, when you came to, you wiggled your fingers and toes first and slowly worked your way to moving each limb, assessing the soreness. There was an undeniable ache, but nothing you couldn't manage. You sat up in the bed and looked around the room, searching for Loki. Your eyes settled upon his familiar Asgardian form, huddled on the chair in the corner, as if he was putting as much distance as possible between the two of you without leaving you alone. His eyes were red, but not because of his Jotun blood. Because he had been crying.
"Loki, what's wrong?!" you frantically asked.
When he realized you were awake, he rushed to your side. "What's wrong? Love, look at what I've done to you!" He gestured to your body, to the bruises on your inner thighs, your hips, your wrists, your neck. He pointed to the mess between your thighs, to the bit of blood that was on the sheets between your legs. "I'm a monster. A vile, disgusting creature. I should have never let you do this!"
He looked away from you, ashamed.
You reached for his hand, in an effort to reassure him. "Loki, I wanted this. I wanted to help you. I insisted." Your thumb stroked the back of his hand in soothing circles, willing him to believe that you were okay. "And look! It worked. Your heat lasted only a few hours instead of weeks!"
"But at what cost?" He muttered, without meeting your gaze.
"I am your wife. We are a team, in everything. I vowed to be there for you and to love you no matter what, for better or for worse. A few bruises and some soreness are a small price to pay once a year if it means my husband isn't in agony for weeks at a time."
He sheepishly met your gaze then, peering up at you from under his eyelashes.
"I don't deserve you," he whispered softly.
"Yes you do. Because you are the most amazing person I know," you smiled easily as you said it. "Now, I did say we are a team, so if you're done sulking, I do believe it is your turn to do your part. Don't you have some magic healing powers that could soothe some of my aches, or am I misremembering?"
Now it was his turn to smile at you. He got to work straight away, a blanket of green seidr engulfing your body and buzzing through you, soothing away the worst of your residual pain. Then he spent the day spoiling you, running you a hot bath with your favorite rose scented bath oil, pampering you with a massage, and waiting on you hand and foot.
"Darling?"
"Yes, Loki?"
A wolfish grin crept across his lips. "When you've had a day or two to recover, I intend to make last night up to you, tenfold. To drown you in so much pleasure that the only word you'll remember is my name as it falls from your lips like a mantra."
You met his grin with your own cheeky smile. "And I intend to hold you to that, Laufeyson."
His lips met yours, then, in a passionate kiss; one that conveyed all the love and adoration he held for you. Your lover. Your husband. Your everything.
Spring was definitely your favorite season.
--
--
Tagging some lovely people who might be interested. No worries though if not, of course! @lokisgoodgirl @muddyorbsblr @mochie85 @cheekyscamp @give-me-a-moose @sarahscribbles @gigglingtigger @ladyofthestayingpower @mischief2sarawr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @wheredafandomat @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @loopsreacts @maple-seed @fictive-sl0th @coldnique @thomase1 @peachyjinx @superficialdomina @peaches1958 @evelyn-kingsley @simplyholl @tallseaweed @cake-writes @tripleyeeet @lokiandbuckysdoll @vbecker10 @lovelysizzlingbluebird
#rolling into spring writing challenge#beanie's double trouble sleepover#beanie's sleepover#spring writing challenge#milestone sleepover#loki#loki laufeyson#jotun loki#jotun loki x reader#loki x reader#loki x you#loki smut#loki imagine#loki fic
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A Spot in My Life
T | 953 words
Prompt for @steddielovemonth: Love is keeping a spare sweater or blanket in the car because they always get cold
Steve Harrington is a bitch.
It's something that Eddie knew, all through high school, but he had thought that Steve had somehow became a new person- thanks to the Upside Down and constantly almost seeing the world end.
Steve isn't a bad guy, he can admit. He's still trying to keep an eye on everyone, make sure they're ok, even checking in with Eddie in his own way.
But he's very sly about it, hiding it being playful jabs, eye rolls and cocked hips.
It rubs him the wrong way. And it's only made worse by how much Eddie still likes him. It's as if the bitchiness only draws him in more, even as it makes his chest burn with irritation.
He tries to avoid Steve for as long as he can. He knows that finally befriending him like they both want will only end badly, but he knows he can't resist the temptation.
He enjoys the time before as much as he can, reveling in how often Steve will try to corner him so they can hang out, how much he whines and pleads and pushes. He enjoys the illusion that Steve could feel anything for him like he does for Steve.
And, when they finally do hang out, his fears are confirmed.
Steve is amazing. He's funnier than he comes across as at first too. He pays attention to what Eddie says and tries to get him anything he wants.
He's the type of friend that anyone would fight for, Eddie is sure. It explains how he ended up so popular in high school too.
If Eddie had known what Steve is truly like, he'd have been lining up for a scrap of his attention like everyone else.
"They're assholes," Steve explains, when Eddie finally asks about his old lackeys. "Tommy always took shit a step too far. I didn't need them. Probably shouldn't have befriended them in the first place."
"They were your friends," Eddie reminds him.
Steve sighs, leaning back. "Yeah, I guess. Just wish I'd realised sooner, how they were getting."
He never complains about the kids, not genuinely. In the quiet moments, when Steve is honest with an almost painful degree of vulnerability, he talks about how amazing the kids are. He talks about how honored he is to be friends with Dustin.
It only makes Eddies feelings inch ever closer to 'the L word'.
"You should talk to him," Robin suggests. "He really is amazing."
"I know, but... guys that are ok with lesbians still get weird about gay men, you know?"
"Yeah, but Steve isn't like that. Did he ever tell you the full story of how I came out to him?"
"It was after the Russian torture drugs, right?"
"We were in the bathroom, near the cinema. I thought we might have puked it all up, so we decided to test it, ask each other questions. So, I asked him if he was ever in love..."
"Oh... oh no."
"Oh yes. He liked me, told me so, and that's when I came out to him."
"Holy shit, Robin."
"But that's my point. He was a little surprised, sure, but he started making jokes, like, immediately. Didn't phase him at all. He got with it immediately. We're just friends, and that's not a problem for him."
Eddie groans, throwing his head back so it thumps into the wall behind him. "But that just makes him more hot!"
The story plagues his mind, to the point that it's the only thing he can think about when he picks Steve up for their next hang out.
In the dead of winter, Steve feels the cold worse than anyone else that Eddie knows. He runs hot, and the sudden temperature drops brings out the worse in him.
He's shivering when he climbs into Eddie's car.
"Fuck, why isn't your heating on?" He whines.
"It's broke," Eddie reminds him. "It's fine, don't worry."
"Don't worry? I'm gonna get hypothermia, Eddie! I don't want to turn into an ice sc- what is that?"
He takes the blanket that Eddie had reached back to grab, staring at it.
"It's a blanket."
"No shit, I mean... it's yellow."
"Yeah? You like yellow."
"You got this for me?"
"You see anyone else shivering in my van?"
"No, it..." Steve pauses, glancing at Eddie before slowly wrapping the blanket around himself. "Sorry, uh... thank you. This is, um, nice."
"it's nothing."
"It's not. Just- take the thanks, Ed."
"Alright, alright."
They're silent for the rest of the drive. It's so unusual for them that it has Eddie nervous, glancing at Steve every other moment.
When they finally pull to a stop, Eddie turns to Steve, who stays where he is. He stares out the front window for a moment, before turning to face Eddie.
"Are you alright?" Eddie asks.
"Yeah, I am. Enjoying the warmth."
"That all?"
"... yeah."
Eddie rolls his eyes. "You're a terrible liar."
"Wh- hey, I'm a good liar!" He tries to glare, but quickly backs down with a huff. "Alright, fine, but it's really sappy! Don't say I didn't warn you!"
"Oh, no, the horror."
"Shut up. I was just thinking about how, like... there's so many little things in your life that are for me. My tapes in your room, spare clothes in your closet, this blanket... I really appreciate it, man. You've made space for me in your life. It means a lot to me."
"Oh, right. That's... yeah. Of course, Steve. You're always welcome. I love- uh... spending time with you."
"Good. I love spending time with you too."
"Good."
"Great."
Steve's smile is wide and goofy. He's sure that his own is just as cheesy.
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Resisting Temptation | Adam x Drunk!Reader
summary — In which Adam brings you home after a night out and manages not to be a complete degenerate, despite being tempted to when you start to drunkenly masturbate in front of him.
content — 1,744 words, fem reader, fem pronouns, smut, pre-established friendship (you're like best friends), masturbation, exhibitionism, some pining
a/n — my first story on here! wow!!!!! warning for drunken flirting, i guess slight dubcon? though adam is drunk too. also reader is kinda lute-coded
SMUT AHEAD !
“I had no idea you were such a fuckin’ lightweight,” Adam laughs boisterously, with you sprawled in his bed with eyes you can barely keep open, warmth burning through your every limb. The sensation wasn’t entirely uncomfortable, just overwhelming coupled with all the other shit going on with your other senses. At least you were somewhere comfortable instead of on the cold tiles of the club’s bathroom floor, which was where he’d found you after you disappeared for thirty minutes. You’d take the smell of his sweaty sheets over the stained, cold tiles any day.
You were familiar with this space, having come here many times prior to. Whether it was for a house party, a jam session, or just to crash for a bit, you’d been in this very spot on his bed too many times to not be comfortable here.
“I can’t take your shit right now, just shut up for a bit, please.“ You slur out, earning a grumpy mumble from him, something along the lines of ‘don’t tell me to fucking shut up’. You were more concerned about the unbearable temperature in your face and your core, lazily lifting your shirt up your midriff to try and remedy some of it.
“Whoa, feelin’ hot are we? Tryna show me something?”
Your intentions were certainly not to make yourself appealing to the man in the room with you. Adam was just like that. He would get excited over a woman bending over to tie her shoe. It wasn’t that you were suddenly attracted to him– but something about him misinterpreting your action coupled with the way his voice, intoxicated with a sensual undertone and a hint of his sleazy charm, flicked the switch in your brain soaked with alcohol. “Yeah, it’s too hot,” you breathe with a sudden intensity. “Need it off.”
After a night of warm bodies near yours and some appetitive dancing, you had some lasting energy pent up– and whatever sort of restraint that normally keeps you from your deepest impulses is turned off at that moment. You spread your thighs and begin to tug down your bottoms.
Adam’s face heats up slightly, but for once, he stays quiet on his side of the room. Changes into something more comfortable and just watches as you toss your pants and underwear to a miscellaneous pile of his laundry in the corner.
In Adam’s bed, you feel right at home. Though it’s not something either of you have ever brought up or discussed, there is nothing that strikes you as particularly odd about stripping down in front of him to start touching yourself.
“...Cute,” He chuckles softly, sitting in his lounge chair. Getting lost in his own drunken haze, he drops his chin in his hand to watch with half-lidded eyes as you drunkenly spread yourself open.
“ ‘m not cute… I’m sexy,” You playfully correct him, rum on your lips. Though his breath smells of alcohol too, it’s much more prevalent on you, floating in the air around you. Suddenly feeling a little hot himself, he makes his way to his en suite bathroom, where he fills a glass with some water. You were way too far gone. He was too.
Adam makes his way back to your side of the bed. “Sit up, bitch,” he instructs crudely, but you obey. Standing right next to you, he tries not to pay your ministrations any mind, but still listens to the slick sound of it with a flush in his face.
Adam brings the cup to your lips with a little bit of annoyance as you sway from side to side, making him spill some down your chin along the way with a groan, a ‘fuckin’ damnit [Name]’, and an impatient sigh. Despite this, you drink obediently, wrapping your other hand around Adam’s to hold the glass in place, which only makes its contents slosh around more thanks to your disoriented movements.
“Holy fuck, slow down dude,” He complains as you chug wildly, still clumsily going at your own cunt with your other hand.
When he pulls the glass away from your mouth, you inhale sharply and deeply as you catch your breath from your unrestrained drinking.
“Don’t wanna,” you say breathlessly, a rivulet of water dripping down the corner of your lip. He stares, takes in the shine on your moistened lips in the dimly lit room. “Feels too good.”
Your tone is uncharacteristically seductive. He’s never seen you like this before. Adam sets the glass on a nightstand and sits on the bed next to you, your backs both against the headboard, same like how he does when you come over to binge shows and rot in bed with him for hours, sometimes days at a time.
“Really can’t stop?” He asks, a little irritated by the fact you’re bringing it up, making the awkwardness of trying to veer his attention away even more challenging.
“Yeah,” you hum, eyes closed. “Needed this so bad.”
He can’t keep himself from taking a glance– your shirt furled up, showing the expanse of skin there, a hand over your drooling cunt. Inches away from him.
“Hey, [Name],” he says in a serious but equally sultry tone all of a sudden.
“Yeeeaaah?” You sing-song.
“You’re really sexy.”
“You think so?”
“Yeah, you’re such a little doll. Fuckin’ cute,” He praises uncharacteristically, now stroking your hair with a gentleness you had scarcely ever seen from him before. Definitely the alcohol. He watches the way your lips form a lazy drunken smile, blissed out from your own touching. You watch his droopy eyes stare at you with some sort of intensity that you can’t quite read through your inebriated lens, but in your mind, you equate it with the same douchebag look you’ve seen in most other shitty men when they want sex.
“We have to fuck,” you suddenly blurt out.
His eyes widen into saucers.
Why now?
“Do we?” Adam asks casually, a little flippantly, as if he wasn’t completely stoked on the idea. Grinning slyly as if he hasn’t already suggested that a hundred times before, acting coy as if you hadn’t ignored his sexual advances for as long as he’s known you.
You nod very seriously while hopelessly trying to achieve more stimulation through your disoriented touching, your lower half raising off the mattress for a moment.
“Gonna have to turn that one down, babe,” he replies cooly, and in his mind, he pats himself on the back for actually turning down sex with you. “I’ll keep you in mind for next time though, ‘kay?”
You groan at his arrogance. “You’re unreal,” you spit, “so fucking annoying…” slurring and mumbling to yourself about something incoherent, and he snorts as he hears you ramble on, something under your breath about ‘blue balls’.
He’d be lying if he said his dick wasn’t achingly hard in his pants, but he won’t take advantage of you. This isn’t how he hoped it would happen, as loath as he is to admit to himself something as emotionally vulnerable as that. Maybe a little selfish.
He was definitely storing mental pictures and notes away for his own personal use later, but for now, he’s fine with just petting your head while you fuck yourself on your fingers.
“You’re just afraid you wouldn’t be able to handle me.” You say suddenly.
God. Fuck. He’s used to this type of behaviour from you, but not within a context like this. This is a real trial. It takes almost everything in him not to verbally challenge you back, so many possible sleazy responses he could give you. He’s no stranger to setting a mood. So many ways to provoke or tease you.
But he doesn’t, instead opting to ignore you with a grumbled and nonchalant “Yeah, okay, whatever” as he reaches for the remote to flick on the TV. Actions speak louder than words or whatever. Part of him hopes you’ll remember this later.
You scoff, too drunk and too enveloped in your own stimulation to care. You had other things to tend to.
He manages to veer his attention after that, his head turned to where his screen displays a rerun of some 4 AM cartoon. He tries to focus on the bouncing characters rather than what’s tempting him on the other edge of the bed.
A dull sight compared to you, naked from the waist down and still rubbing your cunt, a little slower now, distracted by the TV. Just next to him, fingers pressed against where your blood is swollen and sensitive. You spread yourself and feel how wet you are. Adam can hear the drooling sound of it so clearly, somehow tasteful to him, like light rainfall over a pond or a bathing suit dripping into a tub; sleepy summer sounds.
“Can you just rub your dick against my clit a little?” You ask, moving your fingers as if to give illustration of the idea, so swollen.
“Show me how you like to do it,” Adam proposes instead. “what gets you off best.”
You lean into him, letting out a pleased hum. In his own drunken haze though, he can’t help himself from it when he presses sloppy wet kisses along your shoulder, your neck, your swollen lips that taste so strongly of alcohol. You accept the kisses plainly while your fingers slot against your clit, pinching lightly. You moan breathily, hot against his lips.
God, you’re too fucking precious. He wants to be inside you so badly. He fuckin’ would be, if he were just a little bit worse of a person, if he happened to not give a fuck about you, if you weren’t already gasping and cumming, leaking onto the sheets of his bed.
“Good girl. Bet your pussy feels better now, huh?”
“Yeah...” You say with a yawn, the aftertaste of your orgasm already beckoning your body to rest.
“Get to sleep. You’ll need rest when I make you regret putting all this shit on me tomorrow.”
“Hey, Adam…”
“‘Sup?” He asks with that signature douchey indifference.
You scoot forward, tucking your head under his jaw. Lean into his neck and breathe against the pulse there.
Are you going to say it…?
“I’ve gotta piss,” you slur out. “and puke a little, probably.”
Adam deflates with disappointment.
“I fuckin’ hate you,” He sighs in defeat, before tossing the blankets back off of you and slipping a hand under your legs to carry you.
i didnt proofread this cuz ive read it a thousand times already but anyway let me know if u see any spelling mistakes at all, before someone else gets the chance to see them cuz that would be embarrassing and i'd have to boil myself alive
#hazbin hotel smut#hazbin hotel x reader#adam x reader#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel reader insert#hazbin hotel adam
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dear ghoul a very good evening, may i humbly request for some more ghost!ghost? it's just too adorable man you got the works
The worst part about having a ghost for a roommate is it makes having people over a little tricky.
Your friend comes scrambling out of the bathroom with a wild look in his eye, and plasters himself against the wall, nearly knocking one of your pictures off the wall. You turn around on the couch to make sure he's alright. He looks like he's seen a ghost. Dammit. You try not to look too suspicious when you ask,
"What's wrong?"
"I- there was- in the mirror-" your friend stutters, trying to make sense of... Well you assume trying to make sense of seeing a flash of your ghastly roommate in the bathroom mirror. He tends to hover behind the door when you have friends over, waiting for someone to close it and catch a glimpse of him. You have to hand it to him, Ghost is fairly talented at being a ghost.
You pop a few kernels of popcorn in your mouth. Unbothered. "Yeah the place is low-key haunted."
"Low key?" You friend balks, "Some bloke with a slit throat jumping out of mirrors is what you call low key?"
"What?" He's never done that before. Usually when you've got someone over he sticks to the classics: opening and closing doors, footsteps, cold rooms, glimpses of him in the shadows.
"I'm out of here," your friend grabs his coat off the hook and stalks towards the door, you jump off the couch and are unceremoniously pushed back down onto it by an unseen force. It feels like a weight settling over your chest, forcing you to lay back.
"Wh-" you try to breathe around the pressure and your friend tugs the door open, "Wait!" You manage just as your friend is pushed out, the door slammed behind them and all the locks clicked into place. You push at the air on top of you, as if your fingers might grasp living flesh instead of empty space. You hear the mug on your ghost's alter bubble ominously before your wrist is pinned over your head against the couch.
The temperature in the room plumits, you tense to keep from shivering, grit your teeth to keep them from chattering. The phantom hands holding you down ruck up under your shirt and the dam breaks. Shivers wrack your body, not from fear, but from the chill and you try again to push at the invisible force holding you down.
"Ghost wha-" your breath catches in your throat, you're eyes fix on the black expanse of the TV screen. You can see the shadow of him crouched over you, holding you down. You didn't know he was so big, he hulks over your frame, takes over the couch without trying. He straddles your hips, one hand pressing against your stomach while the other pins your wrist.
"No..." His voice is raspy, guttural and rough, his breath shakes and wheezes, "boyfriends."
You can't look away from the TV screen, too worried if you do you'll never see your ghost again. You don't fight against his hold, your body rigid, breath held. He doesn't touch you, not like this. Despite the chill its gentle, forceful but gentle, and a shive vreaks down your spine that isn't from the cold. The hand on your stomach strokes your skin, almost appreciative. You wonder when the last time he felt living flesh was, if he misses it, if he'll keep touching you.
Then his words hit you, and you have to stop from jerking your head to look at him. You know you won't see him, but that doesn't stop the temptation. "He's just a friend," you press, is that why he's upset? You can't imagine why else he'd be mad, this never happened when you had girls over. "Wha-" you smile a little, "Are you jealous?"
The hands leave you, the specter in the TV reflection disappearing like whispers of smoke. You turn to look at the empty air above you and pout.what the hell are you supposed to do now? Your friend bailed, your ghost bailed, you're all riled up with nowhere to go. You grab the remote and pout a little more forcefully at Ghost's alter as you turn the TV on.
"Possessive bastard," you grumble, watching the mug bubble once for yes.
#cod x reader#x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#simon riley cod#simon riley x reader#simon riley#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost!ghost#ghost au#ghost is a bastard but we love hi#its hard being a ghost
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Do you have any favorite Peter smut fics to recommend? I'm in need something spicy! I'll take anything you can think of!
Dear, if you want to turn up your temperature with some of the smut fics I’ve read recently, here are a few:
So, So Mean, by @lovelettersforthedamned
Smitten, Peter's Angel, The Ruler and The Killer, Peter and a Cam Girl, Enraptured, Doing so Well, Not so Innocent, The Goddess, In The Dark, Cheating With Peter, Phone Sex, and my favorite ever Back to Basics, by @blooming-violets
Love on the Brain: Sugar & Vice, vol 2, Sugar and Vice, Sweet Dreams, These Violet Delights, by @liz-allyn
Bondage, Mattress Acting, by @reysdriver
August Slipped Away by @peterthepark
Symbiote mini series by @mrshipsmcgee
Florence series by @periprose
Dulcet by @jamespottersdaisy
Quiet Temptations by @parkerpeter24
Sparks Fly by @mortwig
Jawbreaker by @witchywcmans
The Angel In The Garden of Evil series, In Your Boss’s Office, Professor Peter Parker by @backtothefanfiction
'Til Kingdom Come by @pedrito-friskito
Masterlist of @withahappyrefrain
This fic of @deviouz
Going to The Edge of Heaven by @multifandomworldsposts
Another Love series by @abibliophobiaa
Too Close For Comfort by @lovelettersforthedamned
Thick and Thin by @ficthots
Daddy Issues seeries by @venus616
I’m Holding my Breath for You by @lxinesux
There must be others I’ve read, but I’ve read so much fanfic… You must find more things in this tag [peter parker fanfic] that I usually put in the fics I reblogged.
Thank you to all the writers on Tumblr!
#ask box#ask request#peter parker fanfic#spiderman fanfiction#peter parker smut#spiderman smut#andrew garfield#peter parker#spider man#the amazing spider man#tasm peter parker#andrew peter parker#tasm peter#andrew peter#tasm#tasm spiderman#andrew spiderman#andrew garfield peter parker#andrew garfield spiderman#writers on tumblr#thank you writers#ask anon#ask response#sincericida#fanfic's compilation#request
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Kinktober Day 10: Cheating - Sasuke x AFAB!Reader
CW: Sasuke x AFAB!reader, cheating sasuke, guilt, sex pollen venom, dubcon (maybe ??), unprotected piv (don’t be stupid), multiple creampie (again don’t be stupid), oral (m receiving), overstimulation, rough sex at the end, breast play, improper use of genjutsu, mention of pricking reader with kunai to release genjutsu, lmg what i missed !!
18+ MDNI
You and Sasuke were sent out on a mission to capture a rogue ninja from just beyond the hidden leaf. There were sighting of her in the land of fire, so you two were scouted out for days, searching for the genjustsu user. Finally you two had tracked her location- more specifically you did. Sasuke had left you alone for only a few minutes when you were ambushed. The woman appeared out of nowhere throwing a kunai at you, which you were able to dodge.
“Thank god that pretty boy left you alone, I was nervous I wouldn’t get the chance to fight you!” She sneered. You lunged, weaving fire style hand signs- something you were told she was weak against. She gasped, getting struck by the small embers that emanated from your attack.
The genjustsu user was quick on offense, spraying a water style attack to combat your first move. Steam surrounded you, and you were alert, ready for her to pop out at any moment for whatever she had left. You could sense the enemy’s chakra behind you and when you turned around she sprang out. She was quick, but no match for your reflexes.
You grabbed her by the arm and threw her down to the ground, she crashed into the dirt with a grunt.
“SHIT!” She gritted through her teeth. You were about to land the finishing blow when suddenly you felt a vine creeping up your leg.
“W-What?!” You were shocked, rose vines growing from nowhere and tying you up, the thorns piercing your skin and where they had punctured you, you felt a burning sensation, far beyond just a simple wound.
“Earth style- roses temptation genjustsu!” She exclaimed. You fell back, the thorns creeping up higher and higher up your thighs. You felt your core tighten and your body temperature raise. You were starting to sweat, a painful arousal stirring in your loins almost immediately.
You heard you name being shouted from beyond the tree line. The genjustsu user swore, before making a break for it. You saw your comerade rushing into the scene, watching you writhe in lustful agony.
“What did she do? How did she hurt you?” Sasuke asked, kneeling down worried at your side. He placed a reassuring hand on your shoulder and you felt electricity through your veins from the simple touch.
“Ngh- AH!” You moaned loud. “S…She said it was a genjustsu…” You were able to make out. Sasuke grabbed a kunai from his side pouch, slicing the growing vines off of you and pricking you with the sharp tip to try and break the genjustsu. You let out another moan, thighs clamping together tightly. Sasukes eyes widened, he swallowed deeply, you watched mesmerized as his adams apple bobbed up and down before he licked his lips.
“It… It’s not working. It hasn’t broken…” You whimpered, feeling a drop of arousal coat the inside of your panties. The sensation alone was enough to have you arching your back. “S-Sasuke…” You gasped, writhing in the fluffy grass.
“I-I don’t know what to do… Ive never seen… this kind of genjustsu before!” His face was red, and he clutched the kunai tightly. “I’m going to find her and force her to break it-“
“No! D-Don’t you dare leave m-me like this…” You said with fear. “Sasuke I need your help… P-please. It hurts…” Tears ran down your eyes, your hand rested on your breast as you played with it to release some tension. You moaned, biting your lip and looking up at the Uchiha man through your eyelashes.
Sasuke couldn’t deny he was at least slightly aroused by your lewd display, begging him for “help” which he knew meant was to fuck you. He watched you cry and thrash against the ground, your face red with embarrassment while you were at your most desperate with carnal desires. His comerade was in trouble- how could he deny her the help she needed?! Especially when you’re in oh so much pain… The guilt sat heavy on his mind, needing to fuck his partner while his wife was at home worried about his well being.
Before he could make up his mind you got up and pounced on him, bringing him to the ground. He gasped, feeling you grind against his erection between both your layers. You moaned, the feeling of his hard member against your pained clit was a relief like no other. Watching his face redden while you were on top of him only turned you on more. He let out soft sounds, his hand resting on your waist as you rolled your hips into him.
“Ngh- i-it’s just a genjustu. It’s all in your head, you have to fight it!” Sasuke stammered, although his hips rutting back against you was telling a different story.
Pins and needles were all over your body, your cunt was aching to be filled by him- you needed to feel the stretch of cock on a carnal level, tearing at his shirt, crying through the pain of your animalistic craving.
“It’s doesn’t feel like one…” you huff, his shirt coming off and revealing his muscular abs. Sasuke sat up, his hand coming off of your waist and tangling in your hair.
“You… we… need to fight it…” he said softly, face inches away from yours.
“I can’t think straight Sasuke… I need you.” You closed the gap, lips crashing into his own. He didn’t follow his own advice, tanging his tongue with yours the second he was able to slip past your lips.
You pulled your shorts off, then reached for his pants and unbuttoned them, zipping his zipper down and tugging his boxers waistband to the side. His cock sprung loose, his angry red tip lathered with precum. You bent down and shoved him down your throat, he grunted, pulling your hair.
You shoved him down the back of your throat, playing with your cunt from outside your panties. You felt your slick seep through, making your fingers slippery. You used that hand to fondle his balls, starved for his cum.
“Ngh- ahh- shit. It’s t-too much… I… I can’t…” He whimpered, shooting a fat load into your mouth. You gratefully swallowed, playing with your pained pussy to release the tension. The heavenly taste of his salty spend on your tongue was enough to have you seeing stars, plunging your index and middle finger into your weary hole, pulsing around your fingers.
You kept sucking, his legs twitching as you sucked him dry and then some. His eyes began to water, moaning your name to you in the forest. His mind was racing, thinking about Sakura, wishing she had this kind of a mouth on her. He felt awful, drooling over the feeling of your sloppy sucking and comparing it to that of his wife. He felt even worse, knowing yours was better.
“I- oh fuck,” He stammered, eyes threatening to roll back. “I-Is that it? Is it over?” He asked, pulling you off his dick, watching you lick your lips. You shook your head.
“It’s worse now,” you blubbered, face red. Your eyes were still full of tears, a pained expression on your face. Sasuke wanted to help you- really- but he felt awful at the idea of fucking you.
“I…”
“I know, I know. I’ll do the work, just please Sasuke! My fingers can’t get the job done, it’s hell! My skin feels like it’s burning.” You threw your compression shirt off, tits spilling out. His eyes were fixed on them, you felt his cock harden underneath you again.
“Make it quick…” he muttered, licking his lips.
You quickly mounted him, stuffing his girthy cock into your sopping hole, moaning loudly as you took him balls deep. Sasuke grunted, ashamed of his reactions as he twitched inside of you. You rocked back and forth on him, clit brushing up against his dark hair and your jaw hung loose as you coated his loins with your arousal.
Sasuke stifled a moan, watching your tits bounce up and down as you rode him. He attached his lips to your hard nipple and you cried, pushing his head deeper into your breasts. He licked at your tits, silencing his groans into your chest, embarrassed he was so sensitive from a woman who wasn’t even his wife.
“FUCK! Y-yes sasuke! M-More!” You yelped, feeling your core tighten as your thighs shook.
You came desperately, choking his shaft with your velvety walls as you leaked on his lap. Sasuke moaned, hair sticking to his sweaty forehead while you pumped yourself on him, using his hard cock like he were a simple toy. It was too much for him, he shot hot spurts of cum deep inside of you, your toes curled and you clamped you eyes shut, feeling the euphoria from being so unbelievably stuffed.
It was so perplexing, never had Sasuke been fucked so desperately, this type of sexual energy he wasn’t used to and all he could do was curse himself for enjoying it so much.
He panted, falling back, hitting the ground with his spine as he waited for you to get off of him. But you didn’t. You sat on his cock, breathing heavily with your hands splayed on his chest. While you felt slightly better, you were still at the mercy of your arousal. Sasukes eyes shot open as you slowly started bobbing up and down his shaft again.
“W-What? That’s not enough?” He asked shocked, brows furrowed as your hips rose and fell back against him.
Your eyes were still red, face scrunched into a tortured grimace, teeth gritting as you kept at it.
“N-Not even close.” He let out a whimper, biting his lower lip as he watched his sticky cum leak out of you and stick to where your sexes met, stretching into a stringy mess when you came off, just to pool again when you came down on him.
He threw his head back, hips thrusting into you against his will, diving his overstimulated cock into your tight, wet cunt, bottoming out with a shudder each time his tip hit your hilt. He grabbed one of your tits, thumb rolling over your nipple eliciting a growl from deep within your gut.
You threw your hands on the ground, one on each side of his head. You began to ride him faster, sounds of moans and the slapping from your wet skin on eachother filling the woods. He cried out your name panicked.
“Please! I cant… oh god…” Sasukea legs twitched, hips hitting the grass as he lost his energy.
“Sasuke, m’so sorry,” you mewled. “I’ll be good, just let me do this.” The stretch of his cock nestled deep inside of you felt too good to be true, scratching the itch deep inside of you.
“Soooo…. g-good…” He moaned, regretting his words. This was wrong… he knew it was. Balls deep in his sexy comerade, Sakura had no idea. The worst position to be in, yet the best position to lay down and take some wet pussy after a lengthy mission.
“F-Fuck!” You cried, ripping out a few blades of grass while your assed bounced on his cock with fervor. Soon enough you were a moaning mess, cumming around his member with passion. Sasuke thrashed, feeling you tense around him again. He was so tired, he couldn’t cum again, but the scene was so erotic he felt like he would’ve right then and there if it wasn’t for your appetite.
The burning was back and you screamed, tired of the poison that was seeping through your veins, the poison that made you a cock crazed lunatic. Sasuke was tired too, more so than you. He knew whenever he fucked Sakura next that he would be thinking of this- thinking of you. In the heat of the moment, watching your fucked out face produce a gut wrenching scream he decided that if this moment would fuck up his life forever, he would make it worth it.
Sasuke quickly got up, throwing you to the ground with this powerful arm and grabbed your hip with it. Your eyes widened, watching him lower his pants further before grabbing his cock and parting you in two with his smooth tip. You yelped, scratching his back as he finally gave you the sensation you needed.
“Ngh- GOD YES!” You cried, his dick was pumping in and out of you with an almost violent vigor. He fucked you the way he wouldn’t treat his wife, grabbing your tits and slapping them while he pummeled you. It felt amazing, you propped your head up, watching how his cock disappeared inside of you, only to bulge in your stomach the moment he reached your hilt.
“Fuck- So fucking good….” It came out as a whimper, then an animalistic groan when you threw your hips into his, meeting him whenever he thrusted inside of you.
“Thank you Sasuke, your cock s’fucking good,” tears rolled down your face again and he smirked, licking them off your face before spurting another load inside of you with a throaty groan.
Finally the pain was over, you laid there a fucked out mess unable to think straight- unable to think about the mission. Sasuke buttoned his pants and sat there next to your shirtless with his head in his hand.
“Shit…” He sighed. “Let’s promise to keep this out of the mission report, okay?”
Tag list: @fuckmachine42069 @pasdasin @alien-girl-violet
Next: Day 11 - Pet Play - Kiba X Reader
I FELL BEHIND AGAIN 😀😀
#smut#naruto#sasuke x reader#sasuke uchiha#sasuke x reader smut#sasuke smut#sasuke uchiha smut#sasuke naruto#sasuke uchiha x reader#sasuke uchiha x you#sasuke uchiha x y/n#sasuke fic#naruto fic#naruto smut#kinktober 2023#shaggys bitches kinktober#kinktober
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a safe haven l four
Post Outbreak! Joel Miller x Female Reader
series masterlist l previous chapter l next chapter
summary: After a few weeks, Joel finally realizes that he can’t stay away from you and he gives into his desires; Ellie and Dina start getting closer; you give Joel a special gift that once belonged to your father.
warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI. (TW) THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS A SCENE OF DOMESTIC VIOLENCE, EMOTIONAL AND VERBAL ABUSE. reader gets slapped. PLEASE HEED THE WARNINGS. infidelity, implied infertility (reader), mutual pining and yearning, Ellie and Dina interaction.
Word Count: 7k
July, 2024
About twenty three and a half days.
That’s the longest that Joel Miller can stand to bear without seeing you again, and even then, he’d found that amount of time to be too goddamn fucking long for his liking—each and every single minute of those twenty three and a half days felt like an eternity to him. Joel had lost count of the number of times he had almost caved, almost scratched that overwhelming itch he had to seek you out, to satisfy his craving as if he were a recovering addict going through withdrawals and all he needed was a good fix to feel better again. Hell, the more he thought it over in his mind, the more he’d started to realize that wasn’t all that far off. You actually were something of a drug to him, and even though he’d only had a mere taste of what being with you could be like, he was already hooked on the feeling. One hit of you was all it had taken and now he’s a fiend and he wants more of you—he needs more of you or he’ll surely lose his mind.
Exhaling a labored breath, Joel reaches up as he wipes at his damp brow with the back of his hand. The sun is sweltering, beating down on him hard.
July had arrived, and with it came along the most unbearable and unforgiving heat. Winter had been cruel, but summer had decided she wouldn’t be all that much kinder. While Joel appreciated not having to trudge knee deep through the snow, he wasn’t too sure if he would prefer that over the way his denim shirt stuck to him uncomfortably, clinging to his skin like cellophane. He’d been used to it in his first life, having been born and raised in Texas—twenty one years later, he had discovered that he was no longer accustomed to these kind of blistering temperatures.
After returning from his early morning patrol shift, Joel had stopped by Main Street, popping into the market to pick up some vegetables to make dinner—he’d also gotten some fruit for Ellie. As it turned out, she had quite the sweet tooth. She had gone through about a week’s worth of apples and berries in just a couple of days, but luckily he had enough food rations left over for the week to pick up some more for her. Once he’d finished and left the market, he found himself walking over towards the horse stables instead of heading back to the house like he should have. He really should have gone home, but after twenty three and a half days of fighting his temptation as best he could, Joel realized it was useless.
Most, if not all, of his thoughts began and ended with you.
Sure, Ellie would mention you here and there over their shared meals together, and even though she had assured him that you seemed to be doing just fine, it wasn’t enough for Joel. It wasn’t even close to being enough. He had to see you for himself. He needed to talk to you, even if it meant running the risk of Tommy finding out. He wouldn’t be too happy about it, but if anything, Joel could use the excuse that he’d just stopped in to check up on Ellie. She had become something of your little helper, taking on the role of a stable hand after Maria had assigned one of the other hands to work in the mess hall. You’d needed the extra help and Ellie had been willing. She had to contribute and she liked being around you, so it worked out in everyone’s favor.
In reality, Joel trusted you with Ellie and he didn’t need to check up on her knowing she was in safe, capable hands—but the opportunity to use the kid as leverage presented itself and he’d be a fool not to take it.
He walks into the stables and starts making his way down along the open stalls, peeking into each one until he finds you—alone—in the second to last stall with his brother’s horse, Ranger. You’re leaning forward slightly, a look of complete concentration on your face as you firmly press the diaphragm of the stethoscope you’re using to the animal’s side and listen. After a minute, you hum and gently tug the earpieces, draping the instrument around your neck as you stand upright and pull out the wooden clipboard you’re holding underneath your arm.
Joel’s breath audibly catches in the back of his throat, an intense, fiery blaze burning deep in his belly as he drinks the sight of you in. The heat isn’t being any kinder to you than it is to him—you’re sweating profusely and your pale pink camisole is drenched and clings to your body, accentuating each and every curve. Every inch of exposed skin is beaded with drops of perspiration that you’d all but given up on trying to wipe away. You let it drip freely, allow it to run down the sides of your face, neck—it trickles down your chest and between your soft, supple breasts.
He swallows dryly, trying painfully to ignore the way his cock twitches against the zipper of his jeans as devilish thoughts begin creeping into his mind. Shoving them away, Joel enters the stall and says your name.
You look up at him, eyebrows raising.
Though you seem oddly surprised to see him, you still offer him a kind smile. “Well, hey there stranger. Long time no see.” You pause briefly, shifting your attention back down to your clipboard. Taking a pencil from the back pocket of your faded blue jeans, you start to scribble down your findings on the piece of paper attached to it. “You know, I was starting to think that maybe you were avoiding me or something, Miller.” Although you’d said it in a joking manner, he detects the hint of seriousness in your tone.
Joel shifts his weight from one foot to the other, a sheepish expression on his face. “M’real sorry ‘bout that, darlin’. I just had a lot goin’ on over the last couple weeks. Got real busy,” he fibs, feeling like nothing short of a complete jackass for lying to you. “I, uh—I had to do a whole lotta fixin’ up around the house, for starters. Between that, workin’ patrol, and takin’ care of Ellie, I had both my hands full for a minute there.”
“Well, if you’re here to check up on her, she’s outside in the paddock with Dina right now. They’re hand walking Luna for me,” you say, jabbing your pencil over towards the open stall window. Squinting, he sees the two teenagers out in the paddock, walking along on either side of a white horse, both girls observing the animal’s movements carefully with every step that she takes. You smile once again, though you keep your eyes fixed on your clipboard as you continue jotting down your notes. “Funny enough, if I weren’t so thrilled those two ended up being such good friends, I would actually feel kind of offended that Ellie’s spending a lot more of her time with Dina than she is with me. I guess I have officially been replaced.” You feign a look of hurt, causing him to chuckle. “She’s doing fine, but you’re more than welcome to go out there and check on her. I’m guessing that’s the reason you’re here.” It’s a statement, not a question.
“Actually, I came down here ‘cause I wanted to see you,” Joel blurts without thinking. Heat suddenly prickles at his ears.
You stop writing and your head snaps up in slight shock as you repeat in disbelief, “You wanted to see me?”
He nods in admission. “Yeah. I did. Besides, the stables are on the way to the house from the market. Figured it would be the perfect time to stop in and say hello,” he explains, unable to hide the slight nervous edge to his tone as he steps closer towards you. Joel’s closeness prompts a curious little sniff from Ranger, whom he would borrow for patrol from time to time when Tommy was on a different rotation. His brother wasn’t all too fond of anyone taking his beloved horse, but he’d made an exception for Joel. He pats the stallion on his thick, muscular neck. “Hope that’s alright with you.”
Nibbling on your lower lip, a strange feeling blossoms inside your stomach, a fluttering feeling—as if a kaleidoscope of butterflies had just taken flight inside of you. “Of course that’s alright,” you finally reply. Peering at the canvas tote bag slung over his forearm, you ask, “Did you get anything good at the market today?”
He shrugs. “Just some carrots and potatoes for dinner. Oh, and some fruit for the kid. Apples, berries—even got some peaches for her to try.”
Your mouth falls open slightly and there’s an excited glimmer in your eyes. “They have peaches?”
Wyoming hadn’t really been known for its peaches due to the extreme frigid temperatures during the winter months that would often lead to what you’d learned from Martha was called a spring freeze. It didn’t affect all of the plants and trees in Jackson, but there were a few species that simply could not survive the damage caused by the cold, bitter frost—peach trees happened to be one of them. You had seen a couple of the trees that were planted around the community, but only once had you ever seen them come into fruition. The first and last time you had seen peaches available at the market had been three summers ago.
Joel nods. “Yeah. Martha mentioned a couple of the trees survived the freeze durin’ the bloom period. Pointed me towards the bin and said they were picked fresh earlier this afternoon.” Digging his hand into the bag, he pulls one out to show you. He then offers it to you, holding it out in the palm of his hand. “Here, darlin’.”
Shaking your head, you politely decline. “No, I couldn’t. I know they’re meant for Ellie—”
“Relax, peach.” A small grin tugs at Joel’s lips as he continues holding it out to you. “I got plenty for her. Go on, take it.”
You flash him an appreciative smile. Setting down the clipboard on the two step mounting block behind you, you turn back to him and accept it, your fingers brushing his open palm as you take it from him. You eagerly bite into the fruit, groaning loudly as the sweetness of it coats your tongue and sends your taste buds flying into the clouds. The peach is perfect, right in between being too firm and too ripe. “This is amazing,” you say incredulously through a mouthful, prompting Joel to laugh. “It’s so good.”
You take a second bite and gasp when it pops in your mouth, its sticky juice trickling out of the corner of your mouth and down the side of your chin. Before you even have the chance to lift a finger, Joel reaches out and he gingerly wipes the juice away with his thumb.
Freezing momentarily, your eyes widen as he continues to sweep his finger across your bottom lip.
“Had a little somethin’ there,” Joel murmurs.
Nervously, you finish chewing your mouthful of peach and swallow harshly, as if the fruit had turned into glass. You thought he would withdraw his hand by now, but instead, he moves it and cradles the side of your face in his palm. You can’t help but wince—his touch is gentle, but you haven’t been touched there like this in a long, long time. In fact, any time that a hand met your cheek lately, it was in a rough and painful strike.
“Joel,” you shakily breathe out his name. Your eyes momentarily flutter closed and you tilt your head to the side, sinking right into his large hand.
Push him away, you silently urge yourself. Don’t be stupid. Push him away.
But you can’t bring yourself to do it.
You stand there and continue melting into his touch.
He echoes your thoughts. “Tell me to back off,” Joel whispers, grazing the soft, delicate skin of your cheekbone with his thumb.
Your eyes fly open, lips parting slightly when you meet his gaze. When you speak, you hardly recognize the timid little voice that comes out of you. “What did you say?”
“You heard me, darlin’. Tell me to back off.”
He’s standing closer, much too close. So close that you can count every single gray that’s speckled in his beard—so close that you finally notice the small scar on his right temple.
Your chest heaves as you struggle to take an even breath.
He waits, but you say nothing.
Joel leans down, bringing his face closer towards yours. Still cradling your cheek in his hand, he lightly starts skimming the other side of your face with the tip of his nose. He trails it down your jawline, drawing closer and closer to the corner of your mouth—that’s where he pauses. It’s only for a second, but to you, that one second feels like an eternity. He pulls back slightly, giving you one last chance to push him away, to tell him that you’re not okay with this—to tell him to stop. When he’s met with nothing but a small, needy whimper, he moves in to close the remaining gap of space between your bodies. Heart pounding, he takes the final leap and captures your mouth with his in a tentative kiss.
He tastes the sweetness of the peach on your lips mixed together with the saltiness of sweat and you taste something else too—something he can’t quite put his finger on, but it’s heavenly. He yearns for more, nearly aches for a chance to explore every inch of that pretty little mouth of yours. He wants something deeper, something more, but when he remembers that you’re in a public space in broad fucking daylight, he has no other choice but to pull himself away from you.
“Joel,” you whisper his name, wanting nothing more than for him to kiss you again. You almost find the guts to ask him when the sound of Ellie and Dina calling out your name startles you both, causing you to jump apart and tear away from each other.
The girls enter the stall just a second later.
They’re both sweating, their faces flushed from the heat.
“Joel? What are you doing here?” Ellie asks him, confused. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him around the stables.
Joel shrugs, nervously touching a hand to the back of his burning neck.
“Just came in to check on you, kiddo. S’all.”
Ellie glances between the two of you, arching an eyebrow. There’s a strange glint in her brown eyes that tells Joel she knows something had just happened and he’s certain the only reason she isn’t confronting you both about it is because Dina’s standing right beside her, seemingly oblivious to the air of tension in the stall.
“Did you girls need something?” you offer in the steadiest voice you can possibly muster.
“We just came to tell you that Luna is back in her stall. She did really well on her walk. Her back leg doesn’t seem to be bothering her anymore,” Dina informs you. “We also finished with all the grooming for today. All the horses on the list you gave us are all squeaky clean, at least for now.” She smiles. “Is it okay if we call it a day? Ellie wants to come over to my house and hang out for a while.”
“You know Talia likes for you to give her some kind of a heads up when you bring company over,” you remind Dina of her older sister’s house rule.
“Yeah, I know auntie. I asked her permission this morning and she said it was okay.”
You glance at Joel. “As long as it's alright with you.”
“‘Course it is.” He nods and points an index finger at Ellie. “Make sure you’re home in time for dinner, kiddo. That’s my only rule. Understood?”
Before Ellie can respond, Dina beams and takes her arm. “Great! Come on, let’s go!” she exclaims as she all but drags Ellie out of the stall.
Joel waits until he’s sure the girls are gone and turns to you, clearing his throat. “I should—I should probably get on home now.” Pausing, he asks, “I’ll see you around?”
All you can do is give him a tiny nod of your head.
“Okay,” he says, sounding relieved
He turns on the heel of his boot and leaves the stall.
Joel was playing with fucking fire.
And so were you.
“So tell me, does this town have some kinda weird ass rule that says every teenaged girl’s bedroom has to be fucking pink?” Ellie questions as she takes a glimpse around Dina’s bedroom. Her small nose wrinkles in disgust. The walls are painted a light pink color and it looks similar to her own room—but at the very least the previous owner of her space had thrown some green accents in here and there that made it a little less horrendous.
“What? Is pink not your most favorite color?” Dina teases her with a giggle, shutting her door behind her. She kicks off her boots, setting them next to her closet door.
“Totally,” Ellie deadpans, rolling her eyes at her. She gestures to herself with her hand. “Isn’t it just so obvious?”
Throwing her head back, Dina laughs again.
Ellie’s stomach somersaults. Dina might have been nauseatingly girly, but hell, if she wasn’t one of the prettiest girls Ellie had ever met—smooth golden skin, wide brown eyes, and long black hair that falls all the way down to the small of her back. Ellie had noticed the way several boys around the town would stare at Dina and she couldn’t help but wonder if she had her eye on any of them. Of all the fucking things that Ellie didn’t have the fucking balls for, it was asking her friend if she had a boyfriend or not.
Not that it matters if she does or doesn’t.
Right?
“Make yourself comfortable,” Dina offers, waving a hand around. She grins. “Feel free to snoop.”
“Don’t mind if I do.” She turns towards her writing desk, noticing a yellow flower beside a pile of notebooks. “Well, well, well,” she says, picking it up. She gingerly pinches the stem between her fingers. “A flower, huh? Who’s it from?” Ellie inquires, her back still to her.
Sheepishly, Dina replies, “Oh. That. Um—my friend gave it to me the other day. His name is Jesse.”
Ellie feels a twinge of jealousy stir in her belly. “And who’s that? Your boyfriend or something?”
“No. I don’t have a boyfriend.” She briefly pauses before adding, “Or a girlfriend.”
Freezing on the spot, Ellie holds the flower in a deathgrip. “Oh,” is all she can get herself to say. Throat bobbing, Ellie sets the flower back down on the desk and then turns to look at Dina. The girl flashes her a small, shy smile, causing her stomach to flip again. Awkwardly, Ellie tears her gaze away from her and her eyes flit to the bookshelf in the far corner of her bedroom. “Can I check out your stash?”
“Go for it,” Dina encourages her.
Ellie nods in thanks and pads over to the bookshelf, their shoulders lightly brushing up against each other as she does so. She starts looking at all of her books and one title immediately stands out and catches her attention. “No fucking way!” she exclaims loudly as she plucks it from the shelf. “No Pun Intended: Volume Tree. I can’t believe there’s a third one! Are you fucking serious?”
“Ah, so you’re familiar with Will Livingston and his hilariously terrible puns?”
Ellie grins as she walks over and takes a seat at the foot of Dina’s bed. She flips to the first page and runs her index finger down the list of jokes until she finds one she likes best. “What did the grape say when it got crushed?”
“Nothing,” Dina replies with a casual shrug, taking a seat beside her. “It just let out a little wine.”
She cackles and turns to the next page. “I don’t trust stairs.” She pauses for a dramatic effect and then continues with the punchline. “Because they are always up to something.”
The girls lose themselves in a fit of giggles.
As Ellie continues thumbing through the pages of the joke book, her smile fades slightly—memories of everything that had happened to her in the last year, everything she had been through, the people that she’d lost, it all comes flooding back to her in a huge wave that would have drowned her had Dina and her sweet, gentle voice not come to the rescue.
“El? You alright?”
Ellie turns to her. “El?”
“Yeah.” Dina’s face flushes red. “Is it okay if I call you that?”
Riley used to call her that.
When she’d still been alive.
Realizing that she was still waiting for a reply, Ellie carefully nods her head. “Yeah. It’s okay.”
“By the way,” Dina starts to say, scooting to sit a little closer to her. “About what happened back in the mess hall all those months ago when you first got here—I feel bad about it and I just wanted to apologize for staring at you the way I did. I honestly didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m sorry too. You know, for snapping at you. I got an earful from my old man about it afterwards. He gave me a lecture on manners.” Ellie chuckles and shrugs, her shoulder brushing Dina’s again. She had to resist the sudden urge to lean into her, just like the way she would always lean into Riley. “It’s just that I was so fucking sick of everyone looking at me like I came from another planet. Maria told me it was because I wasn’t like the other kids. She said I was different.” She pauses, nervously chewing her lower lip before asking, “Is that why you were staring at me? Because I’m different?”
“Yeah,” Dina admits. She notices the expression on Ellie’s face and quickly adds, “But that’s not a bad thing, El. Sometimes different is good, you know?
“Nice save, but that still doesn’t make me feel any better,” she mutters sourly.
Dina nudges her in her ribs with her elbow. “Well, would it at least make you feel better to know that I was also staring because I thought that you were cute?”
Ellie’s eyes widen as they meet Dina’s. “You did?”
“I did,” she confirms. She then corrects herself, saying, “I do.”
Dina smiles and leans in, softly brushing a kiss against her lips. It’s gentle and it’s quick but still enough to make Ellie’s heart race inside of her chest.
“Sorry,” she murmurs shyly as soon as she pulls away. She clasps her hands together nervously in her lap as she fixes her gaze on the floor.
Ellie reaches out, placing her hand on both of hers, causing the girl to look back up at her. “Don’t be. I’m sure as fuck not sorry about it at all.”
Relieved, Dina smiles again.
Ellie squeezes her hands and goes in for a second kiss. “I should probably get home before my old man gets too worried and sends out a fucking search and rescue team for me,” she mutters against her lips, causing her to giggle. She pulls back and stands up, handing the book back to Dina who shakes her head.
“Take it. It’s all yours.”
“You sure?”
“Yeah.” She nods. “There’s just one catch to it. I expect you to tell me a joke every single day.”
Nodding, Ellie grins and says, “Fuck yeah, I can do that.”
Several hours later into the evening, you can still feel Joel’s lips on yours—his touch lingers on your skin. It had been burned right into you and it didn’t really matter how hard you tried not to think about it because you had crossed a line that there was no coming back from. His touch, his kiss. You would never find the ability to forget how Joel had made you feel. Not that you’d wanted to forget it.
You didn’t have any regrets about what happened back in the stables. There wasn’t a single ounce of guilt or shame in your bones over it. That terrified you. You had so easily and so willingly let a man who wasn’t your husband kiss you, and you found yourself wanting and needing so much more.
You stand in the shower, allowing the ice cold water to beat down against your back and shoulders. You’d normally prefer a scalding hot shower to help ease the soreness that came after a long day of tending to the horses, but after today, what you had found yourself needing was a frigid shower to cool off.
And it had nothing to do with the staggering summer temperatures.
You shut off the water and grab a towel from a steel towel rack mounted on the wall right next to the shower. Wrapping it around yourself, you carefully step out of the shower and then reach for a second towel from the rack. You dry yourself off before padding into the bedroom where you’d laid out your clothes at the foot of the bed. You tug on a cotton gray tank top, dark denim blue jeans that you’d cut off into shorts yourself, and a pair of old, faded black low top sneakers that were extremely worn out, but much too comfortable to throw away. After haphazardly towel drying your hair, you pull it back into a ponytail.
In a futile attempt to take your mind off Joel Miller and the feeling of his lips on yours, you decided to preoccupy yourself with menial tasks around the house until it was time to start cooking dinner. The fact that you always kept the place clean—damn near spotless—made finding chores to distract you from your thoughts a much bigger challenge than you’d anticipated. God forbid that Luke ever found an unwashed dish in the sink or a speck of dust on the counter—his perfect little wife just had to keep the perfect little home. He wouldn’t allow it to be any other way.
After gathering the load of laundry that you’d had drying out on the clothesline in the backyard, you dumped it all into the large, woven hamper basket and carried it inside and upstairs to the bedroom. Within ten minutes, it had all been folded and put away. Looking for the next thing you could do to keep yourself busy, you noticed a big cardboard box sitting over in a corner of the bedroom. It’s packed with the rest of your winter clothes—it had been several weeks since you’d asked Luke to take it down to the basement and he still hadn’t done it for you.
Rolling your eyes, you pick it up, a labored grunt escaping you when you find the box to be much heavier than you’d remembered it being before. It nearly slips out of your grasp a couple of times, but somehow you manage to make it downstairs without dropping it—or falling. You carefully make your way down into the basement, the old wooden staircase creaking underneath your sneakers with each and every step. Once you’d made it down to the bottom, you haul the box over to the corner of the basement where you set it down with about half a dozen others, most of which were filled with your late father’s belongings.
Luke had been nagging you to get rid of everything to clear up space in the basement, but the thought of getting rid of your father’s things made you sick to your stomach. They were all you had left of him, after all.
As you glance around the dimly lit basement, an object nestled against the pile of cardboard boxes catches your attention. It’s a black leather guitar case. Letting out a curious hum, you drop to one knee and lay it flat on the ground, opening it only to find your father’s brown, classical Gibson he’d been gifted the year before he’d died by members of the town. He’d always been fond of music, and before the outbreak happened, he would play his guitar for you and your younger brother almost every single night, right after supper. When word spread that his illness was terminal, the kind folks of Jackson surprised him with the instrument, hoping it would bring him at least a little bit of joy in the time he had left. And it truly had. Even as a woman nearing your thirties, you’d found yourself sitting cross legged on the floor of your dad’s living room staring up at him in wonder as he would play his old favorite songs for you on the acoustic guitar—in those moments, you had felt like a child again.
You’d felt happy. Safe.
You brush the guitar strings lightly with your fingertips.
Suddenly, you remember the night of the party and how Joel had told you he enjoyed singing and playing the guitar in his life before the outbreak.
You chew your bottom lip, thinking it over in your mind. The decision comes quickly, and you close the case and pick it up, ascending the basement stairs with it in hand. It’s half past five—you still had some spare time before you needed to get started on dinner. You figure you won’t be too long. Besides, Luke had mentioned to you earlier that morning before heading out that he’d be staying late at the clinic anyway—one of the women in the community had just given birth to a premature baby boy that he’d need to keep a close eye on for the next few days.
Leaving the house, you start down the road towards Joel and Ellie’s place, remembering it was the brown and green unit just a couple doors over from your own place. You make your way up the porch steps and knock lightly on the front door. You try holding the guitar case behind you, but it’s fairly obvious what you have in your hands.
As you wait, you shift nervously from foot to foot. A few more seconds pass by and Joel answers the door. His salt and pepper curls are damp, and the scent of clean soap wafts in the air around him, slowly making its way over to you. He’d traded in his dirty denim shirt from earlier for a navy blue t-shirt that fits snug over his broad chest and wide shoulders.
He says your name in surprise. “What are you doin’ here?” His dark eyes flicker to the guitar case behind your back. “What’s that you’ve got there?”
“Oh, just a little surprise for you and Ellie.” You toss him a cheeky, mischiveous smile. “Do you mind if I come in for a minute?”
“‘Course not.” Joel steps aside. He shuts the door behind you and beckons for you with his hand to follow him down the hallway and into the living room. For essentially being a single father, he knows how to keep a nice, clean home. Knowing Ellie, she sure as hell isn’t the one who tidied up after eight hours of mucking out horse stalls.
“Where’s Ellie?” you ask him.
“Upstairs. She just got in the shower a minute ago, but she shouldn’t be too long,” he tells you. Placing his hands on his hips, he peers curiously at you. “I’d ask what the surprise is, but just by lookin’ at the shape of that case, I think I might already have a hunch.”
“Jeez Joel, you could have at least acted surprised, you know,” you remark with a giggle. You set the case down on the antique coffee table in the middle of his living room and open it, revealing the guitar to him. “Surprise!”
Walking over to the case, Joel delicately picks up the instrument by the neck and pulls it out, giving it a once over. He lets out a long, low whistle as his other hand runs down the smooth, cherrywood body. “This is fuckin’ gorgeous,” he states. A playful look flashes in his eyes as he asks you, “Now, who did you go and steal this from, darlin’?”
“It belonged to my dad,” you reply softly with a smile. “I thought you might like to have it.”
Joel’s jaw drops in shock as he hisses, “What?”
“Hey, I wasn’t lying when I said we’d have to find you a guitar,” you laugh. “I’m a woman of my word, Miller.”
“Darlin’ I can’t accept this, there’s no fuckin’ way—” He tries handing the instrument back to you, but you take a step back and hold your hands behind your back, shaking your head. He tries again. “Listen, I appreciate the thought, but I can’t take this. It was your dad’s and I really don’t think he’d want some stranger to have it.”
“Please take it,” you request, sweetly. “It would mean a lot to me if you would. He really loved this thing and I just know he would be devastated if he knew that it’s been sitting in my basement collecting dust for the last two years.”
Joel’s momentarily rendered speechless.
“Please,” you repeat, adding an innocent bat of your eyelashes to finish winning him over. “Do it as a favor to me, Joel.”
He sighs in defeat. “Jesus, darlin’. Why’s it so fuckin’ hard to say no to you?”
You shrug, trying to mask the look of sheer triumph on your face.
He takes a closer look at the guitar. “Gibson. Y’know, I always wanted one of these back in the day, but I just could never bring myself to drop that kinda cash. I wanted real bad and now here I am with one in my hand.” His gaze meets yours and he smiles softly. “Thank you.”
“There’s no need to thank me, Joel. But don’t you forget that we made a deal,” you remind him as a teasing grin spreads across your lips. “You owe me and Ellie a song.”
“Speakin’ of Ellie, she’s gonna lose her mind when she sees this thing,” Joel realizes, giving it a single test strum. “I’ve really been wantin’ to teach her to play for some time now. Guess now I can.” He shoots you a look of sincere gratitude. “Thanks, peach.”
Peach.
As you recall what had happened in Ranger’s stall earlier that day, you let out a nervous, breathless laugh. “That my new nickname or what?”
“Only when I feel like it,” Joel replies jokingly as he carefully places the guitar back in its case. “Which might be all the time.” Closing the case, he turns to you. He hesitates for a second, but then takes a careful step closer towards you. He cups your face in his hand, just like before, his eyes flitting to your parted lips.
Lifting your hand, your fingers curl around his wrist.
You’d do just about anything for him to kiss you again—but the both of you had almost been caught by Ellie once already and you weren’t trying to make it two for two. It takes all the strength you have inside you to drop your hand away from him and step back.
You lightly clear your throat. “Um, I should probably get home and get dinner started before it gets too late. Will you say hello to Ellie for me?”
Nodding, Joel assures you, “‘Course I will.”
He walks you to the front door. He places a hand on the small of your back, his fingers brushing against the patch of smooth skin peeking from between the waist of your shorts and the lace hem of your tank top. Once he opens the door, Joel withdraws his hand from you to be safe. He doesn’t want anyone who might have been passing by the house to see any kind of physical contact between you and him and get any ideas. “Have a good night, peach.”
You smile at him. “Have a good night, Joel.”
You return home within seconds and head straight to the kitchen. When you walk in and unexpectedly find Luke standing there leaning against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest, you stop in your tracks and let out startled little gasp. “Luke,” you say his name, hoping he can’t detect the nervousness in your voice. “You’re home early.”
He stares you down from where he’s standing.
“Where were you?”
You can tell by the expression on his face that now isn’t the time to even think about lying to him—not unless you wanted things to go a whole lot worse for you. “I, um—I was over at Joel and Ellie’s place,” you admit to him. “I was only there for a couple of minutes, though. That’s why I left the door unlocked.”
“What were you doing over there?”
Luke sounds calm, but you know him better than that.
The clouds are coming in—the storm is brewing.
You swallow, your throat dry. “Just talking.”
“To Ellie?” Pushing away from the counter, he slowly saunters over to you with a dangerous look in his eyes. “Or to Joel?”
“Luke, please. Let’s just talk about this calmly—”
“When I ask you a question, you fucking answer it,” Luke hisses as he grabs your arm, his fingers digging roughly into the soft flesh right above your elbow.
“Luke, stop. You’re hurting me,” you manage to tell him through gritted teeth. As you squirm, his grip only tightens. “Seriously, you’re hurting me. Please, let me go.”
The panic is beginning to creep in, your body ready to go into flight mode, but you will yourself to remain grounded, to stay as calm as possible—dealing with him and his temper is frightening, but becoming emotional and showing him that you’re afraid of him always makes things so much worse in the long run.
“What the hell is going on between you two?”
“What? Nothing! I hardly know him,” you try to tell him. You let out a small, painful yelp as he continues to dig his fingers deeper into your arm. “Luke, I need you to let me go. You’re really hurting me—”
Finally, you lose your nerve and look away from him, trying to avert his furious gaze.
Letting go of your arm, Luke reaches out and takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him.
“Do you honestly think I’m fucking stupid? Or are you just that fucking stupid?” He spits out in a venomous tone that sends an unpleasant chill down the length of your spine. He squeezes your face, hard. “Do you really think that I didn’t notice how the two of you had come from behind the barn that night during the party? How you were out there alone together, with no one else around?” He lets out a loud, bitter laugh. “Do you really think that I didn’t notice how that man fucking looked at you even when you were at my side?”
Luke releases your face, shoving it away harshly.
Taking a moment to catch some wind, you look up at him and sputter out the most coherent explanation you can come up with “We don’t even know each other, Luke! I don’t know Joel—the only reason we talk to each other is because Ellie’s his daughter and she’s gotten really close to me since she started working down at the stables. He only talks to me when it has something to do with Ellie. His kid. That’s it.” You’re now lying straight through your teeth and all you can do is pray he won’t pick up on it. “Today was the first time I’ve talked to or even seen Joel in weeks. The night of the party, he’d told me that he wanted to teach Ellie how to play the guitar so I went over to give him dad’s old Gibson. You’ve been telling me to start getting rid of his stuff, so I started with his guitar. That’s all.”
It’s difficult to be certain whether or not he believes you.
“Ellie,” he repeats her name with a scoff. “What, you couldn’t bear any of your own so you just go around adopting feral little strays now? Is that it?”
The words leave your mouth before you can stop them. “Screw you, Luke.”
He smirks. “Hit a nerve, sweetheart?”
You know better than to shoot back at him.
Still, you foolishly do it anyway.
“First of all, don’t talk about Ellie like that. In fact, I don’t ever want to hear you say her name again so keep it out of your mouth,” you warn him, your voice low, seething. “And second, don’t you pin our lack of a family all on me just to make yourself feel like a real fucking man.”
You see it coming before it even happens and brace yourself for the impact.
The sound of his hand connecting with the side of your face bounces loudly off the kitchen walls.
“Listen and listen good because I won’t repeat myself,” Luke snarls. He backs you against the kitchen table and grabs a fistful of your hair at the nape of your neck, yanking your head back roughly as his face inches closer to yours. “Don’t you ever disrespect me like that again. You are my wife—you honor and you obey me, especially in our own home. The next time you run your fucking mouth like that, you’re going to be picking pieces of your jaw up off the floor. Do you understand me?”
Chest heaving, you nod meekly.
He pulls your head back further—harder. “Say it.”
“I understand,” you squeak, momentarily feeling like he might actually snap your neck.
“Good.” Luke releases you and stalks out of the kitchen, calling over his shoulder, “I expect dinner to be on the table in an hour.”
#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x female reader#joel miller series#joel miller story#fic: a safe haven#fic: ash#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n
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A Cup Of Love - A Dieter Bravo One Shot ☕️
Summary: Dieter makes you a cup of tea.
Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader (No name or physical description of reader. It’s you, bub. However, I have made a brief mention of Reader having a real body with stretch marks, as with Dieter with him ageing and greying.)
Word Count: 2.1k
Scoville Smut Rating:🌶️“Don't hurt me, cadejo.”
Check out my Scoville Smut Ratings here.
Warnings/Triggers: Established relationship/unprotected PIV (wrap up, folks!) Brief mention of drugs - nothing graphic. Dieter and Reader have REAL bodies. Mostly fluffy and soft. Dieter is a total sweetheart.
NSFW. MINORS DNI! OVER 18’s ONLY. YOU ARE SOLELY RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU READ.☝🏻Don’t come at me; you’ve been plenty warned.
I write for me, and I share with you. If this story isn't to your taste, that's fine. Just slip quietly out the back door. No need to make a fuss. It's just a work of fiction.
Author’s Note: The amazing Gi @tightjeansjavi and I got to talking today about Dieter and tea, and we were both inspired to write a little something about, uh, Dieter and tea! ☕️🫖 Please ensure your check out Gi's amazing Tea Party story! And her other Dieter story Chamomile, which started our adventure down the tea-drinking rabbit hole! Love you, Gi 😘
MAIN MASTERLIST | A CUP OF LOVE MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST
Enjoy! 🖤
As Dieter stands in the kitchen, preparing the tea with careful precision, he can't help but marvel at the stark contrast between the often debilitating chaos of his career, and the tranquillity of his home life with you.
It still feels new, that band around his puffy wedding finger gleaming up at him, not tarnished like his other rings. Shiny, untainted.
Like a whirlwind on set, he often finds himself swept up in the frenzied gluttony of fame, dabbling in the temptations that lurk in the shadows with shiny lacquer talons beckoning him in.
They whisper his name with insidious crackles, sharp teeth that glisten in their false fanged smiles. His dishevelled face imprinted on sleazy tabloids, and ruthlessly scathing reviews of his work, that seek to further besmirch his tattered legacy.
There was a time when Dieter Bravo gave them two thick fingers, caring little and indulging in the hedonism that such a career and all of its chromatic glitz offered in abundance. It literally fell into his lap and gyrated suggestively on it.
And instead of pushing it away, he stuffed crumpled, one-hundred dollar bills into its g-string and snorted lines from its ample cleavage without a care in the world.
He was sucked in, drowning in front of an unsatisfied audience, who clapped lazily and jeered instead of throwing him a much needed life buoy. The drowning man, coughing water from his lungs as they hand him gold statues, and plaques with his name engraved on.
A name that sounds more like a third wheel in his life with you, dragging its baggage in from the doorstep and forgetting to wipe its feet as it traipses the clotting mud of his life over the polished wooden floors.
But here, in the quiet sanctuary of your shared kitchen, humble with the soft glow of morning light filtering through the window, Dieter feels it all wash away; the bawdy grime of a soiled past rinsing down the plug hole.
Gone are the days of wild partying with yes-men, drug-fuelled binges and scandalous social feeds, to be replaced with knuckling down, taking the better scripts with characters of substance, and potential Oscar nominations attached to them.
He’s traded the bizarre, the outlandish, for the quiet and the subdued. For the homemade, the curated and the simple joys of growing older with an aching back.
He’s traded it all for something far greater than any of it all; coming home to you.
With each measured movement - the precise amount of tea leaves, the exact temperature of the water - he finds solace in the routine of making a simple cup of tea, a stark departure from the unpredictability of his previous, voracious world.
With the tea steeped to perfection, Dieter pours it into your favourite cup, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him.
As he stirs the heady tea, watching the leaves dance in the whirlpool of hot water, he can't help but think of you; his anchor, his steady hand in the midst of the choppy storms.
With you by his side, he feels grounded, connected to the earth by his feet once more; his erratic impulses tempered by your steady presence and a spiritual awakening.
The heavy drag of his hand over his weathered face as he yawns, an itching nostril that tickles, and he tosses the spoon in the sink, metallic chimes echoing in his ears.
He allows himself a moment to savour it, the scent, the quiet. A moment to just breathe. In and out, his chest expanding as he closes his eyes, hands resting on the counter.
Leaving the nagging ache in his shoulder from the stunt work dulling into a silent pang. The bruises will fade, it all heals in the end. Regrowth, second chances... another shot at the important things.
With the cup cradled in his hands, rings chinking delicately against the porcelain, he makes his way to the bedroom, where you lay in the billowy sheets, your features softened by sleep.
He takes a moment, lingering in the crack of the door silently, a ghost in his own home watching from afar, unable to be fully corporeal, a real boy.
Hovering in the draw of you, he wonders what you dream about. If the world you’re in is better than what he offers you. He tells himself to stop being ridiculous, that he’s deserving of your love, right?
Right?
You looked so fucking beautiful on the day you vowed to love and cherish him, warts and all. A lump in his throat, seafoam in his eyes as the wind tousled the flowers in your hair.
The hushed, reverend tones of your friends and families, they all washed away, swept out with the tide, and it was just the two of you for a few moments, hands knotted, hearts entwined. An intricate lace dress and a sand coloured suit. Dieter knew then he could do this, with you.
For you.
He could pick himself up, dust himself down and be what you needed. He vowed to be strong for you when he'd spent so long feeling weak, small.
On that day, he finally learned how to be selfless.
A tender smile unfolding over his crooked lips, Dieter observes you for a moment, marvelling at the gentle rise and fall of your bare chest on display for him. Nipples swollen, seemingly double their circumference in the heat, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by his own body as he stiffens at the sight of you.
Throbbing and heavy between his legs, the view of you melting him into the floor.
As he holds the scalding cup in his hands, the steam curling into his nose in gentle tendrils, he pushes the door fully open and approaches the bed.
He knows just how to rouse you from slumber without disrupting your tranquil state.
The aroma of the tea wafts through the room, a delicate rapture of fragrances that wilt in the air. With each inhale, Dieter is greeted by the rich, earthy scent, mingling with delicate notes of jasmine and bergamot.
It’s a quietly comforting aroma, one that envelopes him like a warm embrace, soothing his senses and calming the restless tornadoes in his mind.
A smell that is familiarly and uniquely, you.
Sitting gently on the bed beside you, resting on his elbow, he traces the curve of your jaw with his fingertips, watching your eyes flicker under the lids.
A soft moan escapes you on a gossamer breath, barely heard over the timid whistle of the radiator in the room.
As Dieter leans closer into you, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply the sweet scent of your hair. It’s a fragrance that never fails to intoxicate him, a delicate blend of coconut and vanilla that lingers long after you've left the room.
He’s transported to the beach once again where you'd promised you were his, forever. A hand he can squeeze and show off on the red carpets, look, she’s mine. She loves me… A smile he can eagerly chase with his lips.
A partner he can grow old with and reminisce about life whilst your bones shape around the rocking chairs on your porch. Papery hands held tight together as you wait for the pearlescent dust of death.
An eternal cup of tea he can make for you, just because.
With each breath, he feels a sense of calm wash over him, as if your very essence has the power to chase away the lingering shadows of doubt and uncertainty that like to piggyback on his shoulders.
It’s in these quiet moments, when the world seems to stand still, that Dieter feels the full force of his love for you wash over him like a tidal wave. The drowning man, coughing water from his lungs as you pull him out of the salty brine and into your arms.
He could just paint you right now, whip out another canvas and let your love guide his brush once more. Your face adorns the walls in collections of his signature style; a wallpaper of affection. Your eyes, your smile; the way your hair dances and beckons him into the acrylic world created by his once numb fingers.
Dieter presses his cracked lips to your forehead and then your cheek as you stir.
When you wake up, your eyes slowly flutter open, adjusting to the soft morning light filtering through the curtains and the delicate smooches painting your face.
As your gaze meets his, there’s a fleeting moment of confusion, followed by a dawning recognition that spreads across your features like the first golden light of the sunrise. Your lips curve into a sleepy smile, your eyes alight with warmth and adoration as you take in the hazy, messy aura of him beside you, holding the steaming cup in his big hands.
There’s a certain softness in your gaze, a tenderness that speaks volumes without the need for words to be sounded out around clumsy vowels. It’s as if you can see straight into him, unravelling the layers of his complicated and erratic being with a single glance that strips him to bone and sinew.
“You look tired, baby.”
“Long flight.” He yawns, all fillings in his back molars, all deep crinkles around his eyes.
He slips you the cup as you smile at him, offering him that grin that makes him feel so big and powerful, even when he feels like sludge.
He watches you take a sip, eyes closing in blissful contentment and humming at the warm taste as you feel it make its way down into your chest.
“Good?”
“Perfect,” you say, your fingers stroking the fine, grey scruff of his jaw as he blushes.
He nestles into your palm, mouthing a kiss on it, deep brown eyes lancing at you longingly. A lost boy in a tired man’s body coming home to you, offering more than the riches of a name chiselled inside a scuff-worn star on a boulevard in a dirty city with dimming bright lights.
No, he offers you his love in fragrant liquid form, a small yellow ocean to sail together in a teacup. An I love you curated in the moments of the simple art of patience and preparation.
You can taste it as it warms through your insides.
“Come here,” you open your arms out, after discarding the cup, and he can’t resist, shuffling out of his clothes that carry the stress of his journey quickly, leaving the sag of them hanging off the bed like shedding his skin.
He seeks your own for that one-on-one comfort, sharing your sleepy heat in the soft sheets. He covets to feel you pressed up naked against him, slotting easily around the misshapen lumps and bumps of a body well-abused.
He sniffs you in deep, to the back of his nostrils, but you don’t burn or fizz as you go down. Dieter can breathe you in freely and doesn't choke when you make his head spin.
You're his favourite kind of drug.
Wrapping his thick arms around you, Dieter pulls you close, revelling in the familiar weight of your body against his; your fingers sweeping across his broad chest, rifling through the sparse grey hairs here and there. A journey finalised when you finger in the grey, fluffed curls at the back of his neck, twirling them around the tips.
Nose pressed under his jaw as you inhale notes of his dying cologne and musky sweat from his travels. Eyelashes tickling softly against a constellation of freckles. Your clammy thigh hooked over the softness of his belly that he grips, his own fingers stroking at your marred skin with crinkly stretch marks.
He runs his fingers up and down the zig-zags of them, making you shudder, and he hums into your scalp, awed at the reaction from his touch.
Dieter takes a few moments, remembering what it feels like to be home in your arms. To understand finally that home isn’t just some fancy condo on a hilltop overlooking the City of Angels, nor a place full of frivolous, pointless things - it’s you.
Home is in the smile you blind him with, the sound of your laughter pummelling his ears deafening him. The feel of your body crushing him into the mattress as you gift him every piece of your love without expecting anything in return.
But he gives you all of him back, because that's all he has to offer.
And you accept this disasterous, frail human, cradling him tight like a scraggly bear left out in the rain, cold and discarded.
He gives you all his love in the only way he knows how; raw and scarred.
Dieter kisses you, tilting your chin up to his and losing himself in you. He’s been lost for so long, only being found the day he met you. The day he fell head over heels for an angel.
Lips sweep over one another, reminding him of your taste, the way you moan gently into the cavities, how your nails rake gently, but tingly, down the broad expanse of his back making him shudder in turn with want and need.
The way you simply kiss his bruises and aches, from weeks of throwing himself around sets, away, makes him fall harder to his knees.
You reach out to him, your hands seeking his naked flesh in the crumpled sheets, your legs cinching around his paunchy waist, the brush of his hardened cock catching in the crease of your thigh.
He feels your breath, warm and pleasant on his eyelids when you gasp, filling you up with him. Thick, warm, wet…
Pushes his thick cock slowly and deliberately inside of you, equally burying himself in this feeling that comes without a name, an unconditional tattoo inked on a pair of stumpy hearts.
You bind him to you, his face in your chest, kissing, nuzzling. Your hands in his hair, stroking, combing. A ghost of his name falling from your lips, mouth full of him.
“My tea will get cold…” You pant softly into his eyelashes as you take him all in, connected as one again; hips gently grinding against one another. Chests pressed together, hearts beating as one.
“I’ll make you another cup.” Dieter murmurs, as his mouth latches onto yours.
Thank you so much for reading this little, soft Dieter story. I hope you enjoyed it and as always, would love to know your thoughts. 🖤
MAIN MASTERLIST | DIETER BRAVO MASTERLIST
#pedro pascal x reader#dieter bravo x reader#pedro pascal#dieter bravo#pedro pascal characters#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo x female reader#dieter bravo x f!reader#dieter bravo the bubble#jett's writing
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The Taste of Temptation {3} || DR3
Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader
Summary: Pierre enjoys winding Danny up with rumours, and Danny enjoys his recompense with your body.
Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, age gap (13 years) reader is 20, smut, smut, alcohol, smut, ass play, dom!daniel, bond*ge, overstimulation
WC: 3.7k
F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five
Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five
Round Fourteen - Netherlands
You had been minding your own business, enjoying a cool glass of fruit juice to combat the rising temperature of the day. The Red Bull motorhome was unusually quiet as you sat down at an empty table, so much so that you didn’t even notice the hush that fell over the few members of staff that were around setting up for the week ahead.
Something hit your neck and a sudden roar almost deafened your ear as the shock turned to a flash of pain. You jolted out of your seat, tipping it over, and clutched the burning skin below your ear as you saw a dark blue shirt disappear out the door, the number 10 printed on his back.
“What the hell was that?” you asked as you used your phone as a mirror. “What the fuck! GASLYYY!!!!!”
A deep purple circle was growing on your skin where he had pressed the end of a hoover against it, the bright red vacuum now discarded on the floor in the culprits rush to get away. The powerful suction had instantly brought your blood to the surface and it looked like a huge hickey, and Daniel was just walking in.
You slapped your hand over the mark and saw the team members of his that were still around stifle their laughs.
“What’s so funny?” he asked with a grin.
“Pierre just gave her a hickey,” Calum, a friendly technician, managed to admit as he pointed to your hand. “Then he boosted it out of here, never seen an Alpine go so fast.”
Daniel didn’t laugh along with the rest as his fingers curled around your wrist and pulled your hand away. His eyes narrowed at the offensive mark before darting to the vacuum still running on the floor behind your chair. The stupid smile and big, round eyes on the plastic shell only seemed to grow more mocking the longer he looked at it.
“It was just a silly joke,” you said softly.
“Very funny.” He forced a smile but his eyes kept flickering back to your neck and you shivered as he ran his tongue along his teeth and leaned closer so no one could overhear his promise. “But only I get to mark you, kitten.”
Daniel got his recompense when you returned to the hotel mid afternoon. There was a few hours of down time before there was a small get together planned, nothing too crazy since media day started in the morning and no one wanted to be hungover for that.
“Shhh, kitten, the walls aren’t that thick.”
With the curtains drawn it was impossible to tell how long had passed, how long it had been since Danny tied your wrists to your ankles and subjected you to such immense pleasure you couldn’t remember your name.
His fingers were cool against your hot skin as he brushed your hair back from your sweaty forehead before they softly tweaked your nipple piercing and another gasp slipped past the strap of leather you were biting.
The rave music filling the room was set to overwhelm yet another of your senses but it couldn’t hide the sounds you were making and it was a wonder that all of the Netherlands didn’t know what he was doing to you. You didn’t even know what he was doing to you, there was only one orgasm rolling into the next as your tears wet the pillow beneath your head.
Toys littered the bed and Danny had taken his time to enjoy ruining you with them all.
Your ass throbbed around the metal plug he had worked you up to taking, his words of courage helping you to push through the gasping breaths you filled your lungs with as he stretched you to the limit. The cry of relief that had erupted when the plug slid home, and the sight of your hole clenching around the narrow handle, had been enough for him to come again and the warm ropes of his release had splayed across your breasts.
If you could move you would have run your fingers through it, gathering the viscous mess so you could taste it on your tongue. That was where he had finished earlier and where he would possibly finish again, because before you knew it he was hard again.
“Please,” you whimpered as he pressed a bullet to your clit, the vibrations making more tears stream down your cheeks as intense tremors rocked your entire body and your ankles screamed for mercy. “I need to come.”
“Soon, kitten.”
Daniel shifted to lay between your spread legs, his breath hot on your cunt as he tasted the essence dripping from your swollen lips. His fingers soon replaced his tongue and the lewd sounds of them pumping in and out of you only added to the overwhelming experience.
Two fingers, then three. Each snap of his wrist buried them deeper and each time he brushed against the butt plug and pushed it further. Stars danced across your vision and you couldn’t hold back any longer as your pussy spasmed around his fingers before they were gone and his tongue lapped at his reward as it escaped your folds.
“I didn’t say you could-”
Your body fell slack against the restraints as you lost all ability to think, see or hear and you floated away on the high.
When you came back to your senses you were tucked under the blankets with Daniel’s body curled behind you, his arm draped over your waist. His beard tickled your shoulder and he pressed a soft kiss upon it when he felt you wake. Every part of you ached in a way that could never actually hurt and you sighed with contentment as you rolled over to face your boyfriend.
“How long was I out?”
“About half an hour,” he said with a proud little smile as he pulled your leg over his hip as you felt his hard length teasing along your entrance. “I think that’s a new record.”
Your body felt empty without the toys and you looked around to see them neatly lined up on a towel drying. As messy as Daniel liked to get, he also liked to clean up after and you could feel your skin was no longer slick with sweat or sticky with his release that had painted your skin. He had taken care of it all after you had passed out.
“How bad is it?” you asked when you caught his fixated stare on your neck but he grabbed your hand when you reached up to touch the tender area.
“Don’t hide it, kitten. You can cover up Gasly’s but not mine.”
You rolled your hips and smirked when his lips parted with a deep breath as his sensitive head started to slip inside you, just an inch. “You are so petty.”
“You’re mine and I have to mark my territory,” he said before snapping his hips forward and stealing your breath as he bit your bottom lip. “It’s just biology, baby.”
“Have you been watching the Discovery Channel again?” you teased as your eyes fluttered shut.
Daniel laughed as rolled you to your back and tugged your other leg over his hip too before pinning your hands to the headboard. “There’s something satisfying about seeing a hunter subdue his prey.” His head dipped to yours and a shiver spread goosebumps across your skin when he grazed his teeth over your racing pulse. “Seeing how vulnerable she is up against such a beast.”
You arched your back and pushed your breasts up, silently begging him to trail his lips further down to them. He was gentle this time, swirling his tongue over the sensitive peaks knowing they would be tender. Everywhere was tender so he was taking his time with you, enjoying the long, slow strokes that made you feel every single inch of his cock as it filled you.
“She’s only vulnerable to him,” you moaned as you dragged your fingers through his hair and tugged the damp strands.
Daniel’s honey brown eyes said far more than his lips did as they curled up into a soft smile that made your stomach flip. “A lion and a kitten.”
He released your hands so he could run his own down your arm and over your collarbone to cup your cheek, the calluses on his palms tickling your skin along the way. His hand was so large it cradled your entire jaw and his thumb stroked your kiss-swollen lips before he took them for his own.
There was never a fight for dominance with him, your lips just parted as if he were the elixir of life and you were dying of thirst. He was intoxicating and addictive, unlike anyone you had been with before and he completely consumed your consciousness, filling every waking thought before infiltrating your dreams too.
You lost all sense of self with him, yet he had helped you explore your body and find so much more. And you also had lessons to teach him.
“Lions don’t actually hunt,” you murmured as you lay your head on his chest and listened to his heartbeat thumping rhythmically in your ear. “It’s the females that do the hunting. The male is just there to fuck.”
Your muscled pillow bounced as he laughed, his fingers along your spine pausing their relaxing dance. “I like that even better. What can you tell me about the honey badger?”
You pushed up onto your elbow, resting your chin on your hand so he could see the amusement on your face. “The honey badger is a cheeky creature who is very territorial and gets quite jealous over little things.”
“Is that right?” he dared you to continue with the lifting of one eyebrow and a smirk on his lips.
“Mhmm, but don’t let the cuteness fool you, there’s a fighting spirit beneath all that fur,” you teased, running your fingers through the dark triangle of curls that grew over his sternum. “And six nipples. Oh, did you think I was talking about you?”
His smirk broke into a bright smile that reached his sparkling eyes as his laugh filled the room. “You never know, I might have six nipples and just be very good at hiding them.”
You snorted a laugh and buried your face into the crook of his neck, squeezing your arms around his waist. “No, you would happily parade them about if you had that many.”
Danny placed a soft kiss atop your head before resting his cheek upon it with a happy sigh. “You know me so well.”
“Hey Nips,” Pierre greeted with a grin as he bounced on the balls of his feet impatiently. “You haven’t blocked me on Insta have you?”
“I will if you keep calling me Nips,” you warned as you pulled your phone out of your clutch and checked the app you had muted the notifications for and groaned. “Seriously?”
The Frenchman's laugh was insufferable as you saw what he had uploaded while Daniel returned to your side after chatting with Valterri, never straying too far away from you. The video wasn’t great quality considering Pierre had been running full pelt through the paddock with a vacuum plugged into a massive extension lead but you could still make out the path to Red Bull’s hospitality.
You saw yourself sitting at a table sipping your juice in peace before he flicked the vacuum on and a look of shock fell over your face when it sucked your neck into the nozzle. Unable to resist now that he had more than made up for it, Daniel chuckled in your ear at the video and you jutted your elbow back to check him in the ribs.
The next picture he posted made you roll your eyes before you saw an opportunity and sent a reply before locking the phone and slipping it back into your clutch as Daniel’s laugh grew even louder. “There’s those claws, kitty.”
You regretted opening the app as you were still thinking about the other notifications you had seen and they left you distracted. It wasn’t anything new and they weren’t often malicious but the rumours were just irritating. Every single post you were tagged in by one of the drivers inevitably led to people thinking you were dating them.
It was only Pierre who did it on purpose for his own amusement, knowing how possessive Daniel was towards you. It was like he just wanted to push his buttons and see how long it took for him to snap and make the relationship public. There had been talks of it, after collapsing into bed, high off an orgasm, but then nothing happened.
The rumours were still playing on your mind when the group moved to the large round table and you saw the name on the seating chart next to yours.
“Hey, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” Danny asked as he sat to your left, his hand disappearing under the table to slide up the slit of your dress to your thigh, his thumb drawing soothing circles over the bare skin.
“Nothing, I’m just a little tired.” You weren’t lying completely, you could have done with a lot more sleep after what he put you through.
“Have you been boring Nips, mate?” Pierre asked as he dropped into the chair beside you, likely having paid off a waitress to have his name card put on your table. A smarmy smile played at his lips and he trailed a finger around the rim of his glass, the crystal humming quietly, as his other arm draped over the back of your chair. “You weren’t bored in Paris with me, were you?”
Danny’s fingers tightened around your thigh and you fought back the gasp as his nails dug half-moons into your skin. “Do you want to tell him why you’re tired or should we let him use his imagination?”
You hid your laugh behind your hand and Pierre’s interest only grew as he leaned closer. “I don’t think he is creative enough to imagine everything we did. Maybe I’ll tell Kika and she can surprise him.”
A dopey smile crossed his face at the mention of his girlfriend before a camera flashed and he sat back in his seat with a huff of annoyance at the photographer. “I thought they weren’t allowed at these things.”
You shrugged and accepted the glass of wine Danny took from a passing waitress. “Netflix wants a taste of everything this year, all the behind the scenes shots. Just be grateful you don’t have to wear microphones.”
“I dunno, could be entertaining as hell,” Daniel chuckled as he teased his fingers along the edge of your panties. “But they would have to censor 99% of what happens outside of the paddock. For us at least.”
“We get it, you guys have sex,” Lando said with a roll of his eyes as he arrived late and dropped into the seat beside Daniel, Carlos on the other side of him. “Sup, what’d I miss?”
“Nothing much. Pierre got schooled on Insta, and we are going public,” Daniel casually stated, your head whipping around towards him as he shrugged with a smile. “What? It was bothering you and it’ll shut him up too.”
Instead of looking annoyed that his fun was coming to an end, Pierre laughed and let his arm slip off your chair. “About time. Pay up, Norris.”
Lando groaned and fished his wallet out his pocket, his fingers flicking through the cash before taking it all. “You couldn’t have waited one more week? I’m a bit light. Can I get you the rest tomorrow?”
You curled an eyebrow as the money exchanged hands in front of you and you reached out, taking one of the €100 notes from Pierre. “My cut for using my relationship for your gains.”
“Well, if I’m losing five grand on this I want to see the evidence,” Lando said as he started unfolding and refolding the swan-shaped napkin in front of him. “Or I’ll have it back, thanks, with interest.”
“You’re not getting this back,” you stated as you shoved the cash into your bra before fetching your phone from the table. “My employers are cheap bastards.”
Pierre laughed with a shake of his head, knowing you had one of Danny’s credit cards and that he would never let you spend a cent of your own money while you were with him. It was the same amongst all the drivers, they spoiled their partners and enjoyed providing everything one could want or need. They didn’t see it as being ‘used’.
“There,” you grinned as Daniel’s phone beeped with a notification you had posted on Instagram. “The not-so-secret secret is out.”
“Let the chaos begin.”
Daniel’s hand disappeared from your thigh and you instantly missed the warmth before he reached for your nape. His fingers tightened their grip as he drew you closer and your breath hitched as you saw the possessive glint in his eyes before he crushed his lips to yours. The room was forgotten as he took all your focus and your phone fell to your lap so you could grab the lapels of his collar and deepen the kiss.
Ten seconds or ten minutes could have passed by the time you parted breathlessly and as your eyes fluttered open they were blinded by the flashed of the cameras aimed your way. Daniel smirked and pulled the finger at them, causing another bright burst of flashes. “Fuck ‘em all.”
“People will talk.”
Your tongue wet your lips before you dared him. “Let them.”
His eyes drifted down your body before he dragged them slowly back up. “They’ll say you’re too young.”
“Age is just a number.” You used his own words against him, the words that had lingered in your mind since he had said them to you the first day you met.
“They’ll say you only got your job because of me.”
A small giggle bubbled up as your fingers toyed with the buttons of his shirt. “I’ll show them my degree.”
“You have all the answers, don’t you, kitten?” he smirked.
“No, there’s still one I’m waiting on...”
The moment hung suspended in the air as his brown eyes searched your face for the answer and he swore under his breath. “Fuck ‘em all. You’re mine.”
Daniel’s teeth nipped at your earlobe and you inhaled sharply at the bolt of lightning that struck your core, tightening your stomach as it flipped in response. “You’re mine, kitten, all mine.”
You couldn’t even form a response as your back pressed against the wall and he pinned you there with his hips. The denim he wore did little to hide the hard length that he ground against your core and you trembled with anticipation.
“Please, Danny,” you begged unabashedly. You had fantasised over this moment since you had met him but nothing could prepare you for the reality. Your eyes screwed shut as his zip brushed over your clit and your lips parted at the sensitive touch, a keening whine slipping from them, “Pleeease.”
Your arms tightened around his neck as he stepped away from the wall and carried you to the bed, swiping the half empty wine bottle as he passed the coffee table. The mattress rushed up to meet you and he smirked down at you as he used his knee to spread your legs wider.
“This isn’t champagne but we’ll make it work.” His fingers curled around the bottleneck and his thumb covered the hole so he could control the flow as he started to pour it over you. You jolted at the difference in temperature and the red potation started to snake across your skin with each small movement you made.
“It’s going to stain the bedding,” you whispered as you tried to hold your breath so it didn’t displace even more.
“Wine will be the least of their worries,” he teased as he dipped his head down and lashed his tongue across your stomach, dipping it into your belly button where the wine had pooled until he had licked it clean. Your stomach clenched when he rolled his eyes up your body to look at you and you swore you almost came from that image alone.
You were heady as he made his way up your body, trailing a dribble of wine between the valley of your breasts before chasing it with his tongue. His thumb traced your lips, parting them as he tipped the bottle up to fill your mouth until it overflowed. The bottle was carelessly discarded and a large hand caught your chin, tipping it back before he sealed his mouth over yours and shared the flavour of the wine on your tongue.
You silenced your phone from the incessant notifications that hadn’t stopped all evening and tossed it onto the coffee table. Dropping onto the sofa in the quiet hotel, you swirled the topped up red wine around your glass mindlessly and wondered what you had gotten yourself into.
“It’ll die down, as soon as something new comes along.” Daniel fell into the space beside you and took the wine stem from your hands, sipping it before placing it on the table and pulling you onto his lap. His hair was still damp from the shower he had just had and every few seconds a droplet would break free from the strands and run down his neck. “You’re not regretting it, are you?”
There was a touch of vulnerability in his tone that he tried to hide with a smile but it didn’t reach his eyes. You cupped his face and brushed your thumbs over the creases that were deeper when he truly smiled and shook your head. “A little apprehensive of what’s to come,” you admitted with a whisper. “But I’m proud to be yours, you make me happy.”
“That’s all that matters to me.” He guided your head to his shoulder and you relaxed as your body moulded to fit against him perfectly. This was your safe place and your soul recognised that as the late hour instantly caught up with you. A tired yawn clicked the joint of your jaw and your eyes grew heavy as you nuzzled your face closer to his neck. “And what do we say if someone has a problem?”
“Fuck them,” your murmured sleepily, making his shoulders bounce with a silent laugh.
“That’s right, kitten,” he whispered across your skin as his lips rested on your forehead. “Fuck ‘em all.”
Click here for part four.
Tagging: @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @starwarssavy23 @fdl305 @faeb1tch42069 @sweetestrose569 @pleasantducktimetravel @zendayabelova @dr3lover @writerscurse @christianpulisic10 @alexisquinnlee-bc @purplephantomwolf @belennasif @ryiamarie @mickslover @tyna-19 @destourtereaux @sunf1ower16 @octaviareina @laneyspaulding19 @booknerd2004-blog @mimimarvelingmarvel @chonkybonky @jpg3 @bangtanxberm
#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo smut#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fanfic#f1 smut#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 rpf#formula one imagine#formula 1 fanfic#formula one fanfiction#daniel ricciardo
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Frost Moon - November 26-27, 2023
Grab your scarves and mittens, witches - it's time for the Frost Moon!
Frost Moon
The Frost Moon is the name given to the full moon which occurs in the month of November. In temperate zones in the Northern Hemisphere, November is the month during which the first frost or first hard freeze of the season is usually observed.
Like most full moon names, this is an English translation of a traditional name used by one or more North American indigenous groups, in this case the Cree and the Assiniboine. Similarly, the Anishinaabe and the Ojibwe also called this month the Freezing Moon or Freezing Over Moon respectively, as indigenous naming conventions usually refer to the entire lunar month and not just the full moon itself. Other indigenous names include Deer Rutting Moon (Dakota and Lakota), Whitefish Moon (Algonquin), Leaf Fall Moon (Catawba), and Digging (or Scratching) Moon (Tlingit). The latter refers to the habit of deer and other creatures scratching up the ground to find hidden food caches, as well as bears digging their dens for winter hibernation.
Another common name for this month's full moon is the Beaver Moon, due to the increased sightings of these busy little creatures shoring up their dams and food stores before the first hard freeze of winter. (Unfortunately, it's also a reference to the peak days of the North American fur trade, signaling the optimal hunting time for beaver pelts.)
In some modern pagan traditions, particularly those claiming Celtic lineage, the November moon is also called the Mourning Moon. This occurs when the November moon is the final full moon before the winter solstice. In 2023, the November is indeed a Mourning Moon, as the December full moon falls on the 26th, a good few days after the solstice. (I was not able to find an original source for this claim, but given the celebration of the beloved dead in October, a subsequent period of mourning and remembrance makes sense. It may also be a reference to the Catholic All Souls Day, but that's just speculation.)
This particular Frost Moon will be at peak fullness in the early hours of November 27th (4:16am EST), so the moon may appear to be full on both Sunday the 26th and Monday the 27th, depending on where you live.
What Does It Mean For Witches?
This is the month when migrations are finishing up, animals are finishing their cold weather preparations, the temperature starts to plummet, and fall descends rapidly into winter. If you haven't finished your preparations for winter, mundane or magical, this is probably your last chance to do it. (Don't forget to prioritize and delegate!)
With the days getting shorter and the nights getting colder, the temptation to hunker down and hibernate is STRONG. But we have to remember that just like the eponymous Beaver, humans have to stay active during the cold months. Start stockpiling ways to keep yourself busy and motivated, since that Seasonal Slump is on the horizon for many of us.
Consider also the beaver's dam. You've spent the whole year working towards all kinds of goals. Is there still something blocking your way? What might it be and how can you best address and remove the obstacle? Or, alternatively, is it time to stop and rest and see if that roadblock will clear itself with a little time and patience?
In keeping with the Mourning Moon moniker, this could be a good time for reflection and remembrance. Think back on what you've built this year and take time to be proud of yourself. Remember what is dear to you, take a moment to miss someone who is gone, and consider rekindling bonds that may have lapsed or grown tenuous during the hustle and bustle of daily life. It's always a good time to tell someone you love them.
On a practical note, if you have pets that regularly stay outdoors overnight, start bringing them inside or make sure they have a shelter that is properly warm, clean, and secure against human or animal intruders. If it's too chilly for you to be out without a coat, it's too chilly for the critters, fur or no fur. PLEASE do not leave your furry friends out in the cold!
What Witchy Things Can We Do?
As we prepare for winter, this is an excellent time to shore up those magical protections. Check on your longterm spells to see if they need refreshing, or just go ahead and do a quick cleanse-and-reclaim as a proactive measure. Even if everything is solid, practice your technique by shoring up points of egress or adding a new layer to the existing wards or trying a new visualization or method for personal protections. Create a new charm or talisman to carry you through the winter or make something festive and decorative that could be given as a gift.
On the subject of cleansing, this is a good time to clear out any stale or disruptive energy that might be lingering from the recent change of seasons. Solstices can be times of transformation, but change is rarely a calm or peaceful process and it brings its' own set of challenges and upheavals. If things have gotten a little more chaotic than you'd like, take a moment to put your house in order, metaphysically speaking.
If you're partial to jar spells, consider putting one together to help maintain safety and abundance through the winter months. If you're going to be traveling for the upcoming holidays, a bit of luck and protection for the journey wouldn't go amiss either.
Try a frost divination. If your area is starting to see overnight frosts, take a moment in the morning to examine the patterns that the frost leaves on the windows of your home or vehicle. Do you see any patterns or images in the ice crystals? Check the weather forecast and whisper a question into the wind when the overnight temps will drop below freezing. Then in the morning, see if there's an answer waiting for you!
Happy Frost Moon, witches! 🌕❄
Further Reading:
Additional Lunar Calendar posts
Full Moon November 2023: The Beaver Moon's Spectacular Spiritual Meaning, The Peculiar Brunette.
Beaver Moon: Full Moon in November 2023, The Old Farmer's Almanac.
Beaver Full Moon in November - Buckle and Hocken, TimeAndDate.com.
Everyday Moon Magic: Spells & Rituals for Abundant Living, Dorothy Morrison, Llewellyn Publications, 2004.
Image Credit - iStockPhoto.
(If you’re enjoying my content, please feel free to drop a little something in the tip jar or check out my published works on Amazon or in the Willow Wings Witch Shop. 😊)
#witchcraft#witchblr#witch community#pagan#lunar magic#moon magic#full moon#Beaver Moon#Frost Moon#lunar calendar#witchy things
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“Hello, Dean.” A familiar voice sounded behind him. Dean had to close his eyes and inhale deeply through his nose to stay collected. His thumb played with a ring on his finger, rotating it.
Had it really been ten years already?
Dean had never wanted to live like everybody else, he knew this even as a kid. Their house was one of twenty, scattered around in between fields. For one it could appear appealing, perhaps idyllic.
Not for Dean.
When he was sixteen years old he bought himself a guitar; playing it made his heart sing. With the village being small, he pulled on the strings every night, the stars and vast meadow his only audience. There were no standing ovations though; he knew he had to leave.
Years had passed and the devil on his shoulder kept whispering to him to go, abandon his life of stillness, search for something that would help him rip out the thick roots he had grown there.
His mother’s tears made her rosy cheeks shine in the light of a candle when he told her it was time. A rosary in his small suitcase almost burned, her parting gift that he would never use. And from his father? Well, a pocket knife in his hand was all he left.
Dogs howled loudly, but the devil on his shoulder kept whispering to him sweetly as Dean walked for hours, following a sandy path, golden wheat on both sides. The sun threaded on his heels, up high in the sky. That particular summer was so hot Dean wondered if he hadn’t walked all the way to Hell to roast until there was nothing left of his flesh.
At last, his eyes could make out crossroads getting closer and closer, his steps quicker now, synchronised with his heartbeat. He had no clue if he should go left or right, but a silhouette stood in the middle and so Dean decided to ask them for help. The scorching sun was about to touch the horizon when the man turned around to face him. His striking blue eyes made Dean forget to question the long black coat he wore in such unforgiving temperature.
Come to me, boy. He said, his voice smooth like aged whisky, making Dean’s head swim.
You have free will, so I can’t help you to make the choice, but I can show you the available paths. I can show you the road to fame, career, to whatever your heart desires. He spread his arms and smiled widely, before he nodded his chin to the guitar hung over Dean’s back. You could play in the best possible venues.
Dean wet his lips, wishing he hadn’t drunk all his water earlier, his dry throat begging for something to soothe it. Just like his heart. He wasn’t a man in the middle of a desert, but the person in front of him was like a tall sign directing him towards an oasis.
I warn you though, you have to think about it. Really think about it, because once you follow this path… There will be no turning back.
Well, good. Dean didn’t want to look back at the place he had once called home. To him it was nothing but a bucket that kept taking and taking from him, and the well was now almost dry.
You can have all of this, but in return…? The man bit down a smile. I need your soul.
Dean wiped at his forehead, the sweat smudging dust on his fingers. Did the devil from his shoulder finally decide to show his face? The whispers filled his head with sweet temptations and so he listened, sold his heart and gave his soul away.
The man took a step towards him and with a charcoal covered finger, he lifted Dean’s chin up. Blue eyes ripped a wound into his heart before lips were pressed to Dean’s chapped ones.
I’ll see you around.
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A Demon’s Ache — Part 12
Eyeless Jack x Reader
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11
Commissioned by @cookiereblogss — thank you! so so very much as always!!!!
Requests are closed but commissions are open!
Masterlist: x
His fingers reach for the edges of his mask
He swallows thickly, saliva filling his mouth like venom before a snake strikes
You look so peaceful, so calm and relaxed in his arms, like you trust him completely
You could be all his
He could finally claim you—once and for all
He pushes his mask up past his nose, tongue tracing over his teeth
He feels the distinct points of his canines; he feels every bump, every edge and groove of the sharp enamel protruding from his gums
Then, gently so as to not wake you from your light sleep, he shifts, bringing his mouth inches from your neck
His warm breath fans over your skin, but it doesn’t seem enough to stir you awake
He notices the smallest details of your body; everything from the steady rhythm of your pulse to the divine aroma of your blood
He craves you
Even after finally getting what he's wanted for so long now, he still wants more
He‘s as insatiable as ever
The touch of his lips to your throat is slow and soft as he kisses you
He presses his lips once, then twice against your neck before scraping his teeth on the thin flesh over your pulse
He’s on the verge of doing it, on the verge of sinking his mark into your throat—permanently
But then you mumble his name, and he isn’t sure if you’re sleeping or awake, or somewhere between the two, but it’s like it’s enough to snap him out of it
That’s not what you want and he knows it
He recoils away, guilt and shame twisting in his gut
He has to leave, he realizes
Staying will only make it harder to resist
He readjusts his mask over his face, then carefully slips out from underneath you
He throws his clothes back on, opens the door, then offers one last fleeting look at your peaceful form on the bed
His heart clenches, heartache throbbing in his chest like an old friend
And then he turns away, closing your door behind him with a final resounding click
It’s hard for him to think about anything else for the rest of the night
He imagines giving in to the temptation of claiming you, and just the thought has him salivating
His instincts keep urging him to go back and do it—but he knows he shouldn’t
And so, after mindlessly wandering the halls, searching for a distraction with little to no success, he ends up returning to his room
He wants to go out for a hunt, but it’s still raining, so he loses himself to his medical books in the meantime
The rain only really lets up around 2 in the morning, but as he steps out into the darkness of the night, the drop in temperature and humidity feels pleasant against his skin
The earth is still damp, and as he wanders the city, he finds puddles reflecting the street lamps on the asphalt
It’s a pretty sight, and if he wasn’t so lost in his thoughts, he might even be able to appreciate it
Even as he’s cutting through bodies, all he can focus on is the thought of you
You’re too perfect for your own good
He stays out until the sun begins to rise, lightening the sky to a pale blue with faint hints of pink and orange
Morning fog hangs in the air, but all things considered, it looks like it’s going to be a sunny day
When he hears the birds starting to wake, chirping in the crisp morning air, he takes it as his cue to head back to the mansion
He wants to return to see you, wants to find the warmth of your bed and lay down next to you, but he's worried it'd scare you off
Casual fuck buddies don’t usually stick around like that
He decides not to push things, and instead, he spends most of the morning pouring over his books
It’s only when Hoodie texts him, asking to train, that he leaves his room again to make his way through the forest
He sees you on the way out, talking to Natalie in the living room, and when he makes eye contact with Nat, she smiles a big, wide grin at him
"I assume it's been a good morning, Jack?"
He usually wouldn’t care about anyone making stupid comments to get a rise out of him
But you’re right there, and you look absolutely mortified when she says it
It makes him pause halfway to the door, and he watches, admittedly in amusement, as you hiss her name out under your breath
You're cute when you're upset
But then again, you’re always fucking cute
“What makes you assume that?” he asks, feigning ignorance
Your eyes widen, face flushing, and you look off to the side, like you’re dreading every second of this
“Oh, you know,” Nat carries on, waving her hand dismissively, but that broad, mischievous grin never once leaves her face
For once, Jack appreciates her usually-obnoxious teasing humor
“You just seem much looser,” she continues, “You don’t look as tense, like you don’t have that stick up your ass anymore. It almost looks like you finally got laid or something”
"Nat!” you snap at her, "Don’t you have some peanut butter to clean out of your shower?!"
She snickers, and Jack can’t tell if that’s just some code word, or if it’s an actual thing
Why would she have peanut butter in the shower?
"Yeah, yeah," Nat rolls her one good eye, "I'll leave you two lovebirds at it"
She makes her way out, squeezing past Jack standing at the entryway, but not before turning to give you one last wink
You look like you either want to kill her or yourself
Well, at least he doesn’t have to worry about hiding the truth from Nat
"Sorry about that," you sheepishly apologize, "I wasn't, like... it's not that I was trying to gossip or anything, I just, you know, it kind of just—"
"Easy, easy," Jack chuckles, because my god, you're way too adorable for your own good when you're all flustered like that, "it's fine," he reassures, "trust me, I know how nosy they can get sometimes"
You nod, smiling with relief
"Yeah, she's... she's definitely excitable when it comes to... well, you know..."
You trail off, then shake your head
"I mean, anyways, I uhm..." you trail off again, and there’s suddenly a thickness in the air between the two of you
You shift your weight from one foot to the next
“I… I really enjoyed last night,” you admit
He nods, a familiar warmth starting to bloom in his chest
"I did too"
It’s faint, but he can’t stop himself from noticing the shift in your hormones at the memory of last night’s events
He takes in a deep breath, and somehow, just that simple act has more of your perfume infusing into the room
You want him again
He forgets about Hoodie, forgets about Nat, forgets about everything else except what he wants to do to you
Would you let him bend you over right here and now?
You stiffen, like you notice the change in his demeanor
Like you know he’s aware of your arousal
He hears your heart rate pick up, hears the way your breathing changes
You're divine
He walks forward, closing the gap between you, and all he can suddenly think about is how fucking good you felt wrapped around his cock
Like no other feeling could ever compare
"J-Jack—" you shakily say his name, and he wonders if you’d whimper like that too if he sank his teeth into your neck
He captures your jaw between his fingers, tilting your head up so that your lips are inches apart
And he’s about to kiss you—he’s about to kiss you hard and fast until you’re dizzy, but a voice from behind snaps him out of the moment
“Oh—oh, am I interrupting something?”
Jack turns, finding none other than that new proxy standing in the doorway, eyeing the both of you with a shit-eating grin on his face
“Yes,” Jack hisses
“N-no,” you stutter at the same time
The proxy’s grin widens
“Hey, listen, if you’re about to fuck, you can’t be doing that shit out in the open. Get a room or something. And anyways, blue guy, they want you down at the shack”
Jack huffs, trying to hold back a snarl
He wants to wrap his hands around your waist, pull you up close and kiss you long and hard to send the guy a message—you’re his
But instead, he swallows back his urges and steps away from you
It’s childish and petty, but he can’t resist shoulder-checking the proxy as he makes his way past him
He hears him make some insignificant comment as he walks away, and he almost can’t resist turning back and scaring some sense into that kid
The walk through the woods helps calm him down
It seems like the rain did some good to the forest; the foliage is bright green, and he can hear the insects and woodland creatures buzzing and scurrying around him
He reaches the training grounds by the shack, and he realizes something’s up when he sees Slender there with the proxies
The entity almost exclusively shows up when he needs something
He walks up to them, offers a nod, and Slender’s unpleasant static numbness fills his mind
“You are required for a job,” the entity speaks, its telepathic voice a gravelly murmur, “you will be going with Tobias”
The demon looks at the proxy in question, and Toby grins, flashing up a peace sign at Jack
"You are to leave in three days' time. I will provide more information as required. Is your cooperation a certainty?"
When Jack nods, Slender expresses his approval, and just like that, he disappears in a blink, leaving Jack alone with the three main proxies
"Training, huh?" Jack asks, looking at Hoodie, who shrugs
"Hey man, I didn't know the boss was planning anything, promise," he holds his hands up in a claim of innocence
"He gathered us-us up here just a few—just a few minutes ago," Toby defends with a crack of his neck
"It seems-seems like it's going to be a big one," he continues, "f-fucking getting two teams on it and everything"
"Two teams?" Jack asks
"Masky's leg is better," Hoodie gives a nod at his best friend, who grunts, and Jack notes that he looks fully recovered, though part of him still wants to check it out later, "so we're going in as well, but at separate locations. We still don't even know what the plan is," he admits
"And why isn't that new guy helping out instead?"
Masky huffs, and Jack gets the sense that he's also not too fond of him
"Hell if we know," he snorts
"There's no point in worrying about it now," Hoodie shrugs, then nods his head to the field, "C'mon, I was serious when I said I wanted to train, y'know. It wasn't just a ploy to get you down here; we all know you're Slender's little Discord mod, anyways"
Toby snickers, but it seems like Masky also doesn't understand the reference
"Slender's little what? What does that even mean?" Jack asks
"Don't worry about it. C'mon, let's do this, already"
Training goes well for the rest of the afternoon
Jack isn't the most pleased about having to leave for a mission, but he figures it's not the end of the world
The worst part of it will be having to stay away from you for god knows how long
He's about to return to the mansion after sparring, when Hoodie suddenly pulls him to the side
"Hey, actually, there was something else I meant to bring up," he admits
"Yeah, what's up?"
"About that favor you owe me..."
Jack’s first instinct is to deny that he owes him any favors, but then he remembers that day with the campfire
"What about it?" Jack asks hesitantly, warily
Hoodie cocks his head to the side, humming
"You and (y/n)—things been working out?" he answers Jack's question with his own, and Jack suddenly does not trust whatever he's planning
"I guess you could say so"
Another hum from Hoodie
"That’s good. You know, the two of you are cute together, I think you’re good for each other"
"What're you getting at?" Jack's thinning patience becomes evident in his tone, but it only makes Hoodie chuckle
"I'm calling it in," Hoodie finally claims, "I wanna watch"
At first, it doesn't fully click with Jack
"Watch what?" he asks, now fully annoyed that the other's being so coy about the whole thing
But then it does click, and he's one uneaten organ away from snapping the guy's neck in half
As if sensing the demon's sudden change in demeanor, the proxy raises his hands and backs away a few steps
"Hey, listen, listen, I'm just asking to watch. That's it. Nothing more, relax"
"Relax?" Jack takes a menacing step forwards, "You want me to fucking relax? You're a sick fucking perv, you know that?"
"Hey, a deal's a deal—you knew what you were getting yourself into when you agreed to it"
Rightful indignation floods Jack's system
Without thinking, he yanks Hoodie up by the collar and raises his fist threateningly
Hoodie doesn't even raise his hands to defend himself, which somehow only pisses Jack off even more
"That's not fucking happening," he snarls, and even though he really, really wants to hit him, it's not like Jack to throw the first punch
Hoodie laughs—the fucker actually has the audacity to laugh—and before Jack loses his temper and actually wrings his neck, he shoves him away
The proxy grunts, stumbling backward, catching himself last minute before he falls
"Why are you laughing?" the demon demands
"I'm laughing cause you don't got a choice," he says, readjusting his collar, "we made a deal"
"Yeah? And? (Y/n) was never involved in making the deal, you can't just drag her into this like that”
Hoodie eyes Jack for a moment, the tension between the two growing palatable
"Alright, fine," he eventually says, "How about this, then; you ask if she's alright with it, and if she is, we go through with it. If she isn't, I'll either figure something else out, or you'll still owe me one later"
Jack huffs
There's no way you'd agree to something like that... right?
He almost can't believe how dogshit his luck is; the very next day he has the self-control to take things further with you, this happens
How is he even supposed to ask for something like that?
Another huff from Jack, and he shakes his head
"Not a fucking chance, man"
Hoodie snorts
"If you don't ask her, I will"
Jack's fists clench at his sides
This guy's fucking dead
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