#that fucking stalker room i swear it is
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Me, after finally bothering to P-Rank Act 2
#ultrakill#that fucking stalker room i swear it is#absolutely the worst#anyways uh#for those who read all the tags#(which seems to be most of you)#how has your day been?#make sure to grab a drink of water#and maybe a snack#perhaps get up and stretch#or take a walk if you can#anyways#have a great day!#sisyphus#wait of the world#sysiphus prime#is maybe good?#but the rest of the level#is also really good#but pain
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Katsuki’s POV:
I fucking hate myself. I was never supposed to become this type of sick idiot.
But here I am, across the room staring at her because she’s laughing, and it’s one of those full body laughs. She’s not trying to cover her face or stifle it at all. Sometimes she gets self conscious about her laugh being too weird or too loud but she couldn’t give two fucks about that right now and I physically cant tear my eyes away from her.
I’m aware that Eijirou is talking to me, but I’m not hearing anything he’s saying. It’s not until Denki’s face pops up in my line of vision that I finally snap out of what ever fucking trance the temptress had put on me.
“Baku-bro you should really close your mouth before something flies in it.” Denki says with a goofy grin on his face.
“Yea well, you should close your mouth before I shove my fist in it dumbass.”
“Hey, leave him alone. He’s in love.” And Eiji bumps his shoulder up against me. “It’s super manly.”
“Do you idiots ever shut up and mind your business?” I shout because I hate being called out about her. I swear I’m trying my best to not follow her around like a lost puppy but all that does is have me tracking her around with me eyes like a goddamn stalker.
“Dude, no one is saying it’s a bad thing. She’s super hot. Sometimes you can’t help but stare at her.” Denki says with a smirk on his face. He’s goading me. “ but you know what’s better than staring… touching. I might just run over and give her a big old hu- woah dude. I’m kidding calm down.”
My hands grabbing the front of his shirt and I can feel the sparks about to start flying from my hand. Then I feel a soft hand on my forearm and the effect she has on me is immediate.
I cut my eyes over and catch her smiling at me and just like that the sparks stop because I’ll be damned if I ever do anything that might end up hurting her.
“Kats… what have we said about hurting our friends….. they may be stupid but that doesn’t give us a right to kick their asses right???” She’s speaking slowly like she’s trying to talk down a jumper.
“Yea Kats. Don’t beat up your friends.” Denki’s smug voice caused my hand with his shirt to clench a little tighter.
“Denki dude. You’ve gotta cut it out before he murders you.” Eiji says that like he’s trying to help but the asshole is also snickering.
Then the hand on my forearm slides up my arm, across my chest and ends up wrapping around my neck and that’s it. She’s got me.
“Come on bub. I’m hungry, let’s go get food. Leave the evil men to cause chaos amongst themselves.” Then she’s pulling me away and all I can do is follow.
I turn my head quick tho and shout, “watch your back dunts face. I still owe you an ass whoopin!”
“Yea yea lover boy.” And his friends chuckle behind him.
And that’s what i am now isn’t it? It’s what she’s turned me into. A man so deep in fucking love that all she had to do was say the word and I’d fall to my fucking knees for her.
This shit is so embarrassing🙄
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#imagine#bakugou x reader#mha fanfiction#bakugou katsuki#bakugou drabble#bakugou katsuki x reader#drabble#katsuki bakugo mha#bakugo headcanons#fluff#bnha katsuki#katsuki bakugo#bakugo katsuki#katsuki bakugou#katsuki#katsuki bakugo x reader
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bakugou katsuki is not a lovesick fool.
he’s better than that, he swears. he swears with his entire being. he’s not one of those down bad people who gets butterflies from the simplest of things.
but as he walks out of the shower, feeling refreshed and clean from his daily workout in the school’s gym, his phone dings with a notification on his nightstand.
normally, he mutes the damn thing with how often the group of extras (aka, his friends) blow up their shared group chat they forced him to join, but things have been different lately.
katsuki is clad in one of his famous black tank tops, paired with a loose pair of shorts of the same color. his towel rests around his neck as he grabs the device, fingers automatically tapping on the notification and taking him to the messages app.
when he sees who the text is from, he can’t even resist the grin thats tugs on the corners of his lips.
it’s from you. it’s blunt, no more than three letters, but it’s enough to have him fucking smiling.
you: wyd
his fingers tap away in order to reply, using one hand and the other to use an end of the towel draped over his shoulder to keep drying his damp hair.
bakugou: what do you want
okay—yeah. he’s curt and not answering your question. but it’s too late now; he already sent it.
the three pending dots that appear almost immediately that indicate you’re typing has him blinking at the small screen in faint surprise. you’re fast.
you: i couldnt find you in the commons area or the gym :(
oh, with the frowny face he could just picture the pout you were probably wearing on your lips right now. he responds.
bakugou: so you were trying to fucking stalk me?
you: no!! ofc not
bakugou: sounds like something a stalker would say
you: >:(
he snickers out loud at your banter and finishes drying his hair, flinging the towel towards the hamper in the corner of the room.
bakugou: to answer your question, i was in the gym actually. you probably just missed me leaving
you: aw man :(
katsuki can’t help but roll his eyes at your antics.
bakugou: you act like you didn’t see me in class today dummy
you: is it a crime that i want to see you outside of class?
when you say—or in this case, text—things like that, he isn’t too sure how to respond. it has him scowling, all flustered for no reason.
bakugou: yeah yeah
he’s sure his sarcastic tone can be heard even through his text. you simply send a smiley emoji in reply.
katsuki hesitates, his fingers hovering over the screen. and then he types.
bakugou: you can join me in gym tomorrow after class then if you wanna see me so bad
his breath stills when he sees those dots again.
you: ok!! it’s a date then yeah?
what? a what? his head is spinning just from reading your text. is he reading this right? you’re actually making a move on him? and then you’re already sending your next message, giving him no time to gather his thoughts and reply back.
you: good night katsuki!! 😘
oh.
he finds himself sliding down onto the floor right next to his bed, cheek resting on the side of the mattress. his knees curl to his chest as he stares at his phone, blushing like a madman.
“fuck.”
okay. maybe bakugou katsuki is a lovesick fool.
#bakugou katsuki x you#bakugou katsuki x reader#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader#bakugou x you fluff#bakugou x reader fluff#rain’s writing#my writing
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MAKE IT BETTER e.williams
☆ WORD COUNT - 2.7K
ELLIE WILLIAMS X FEM!READER
☆ SUMMARY - patrol gone wrong, bumping into the wrong people and landing yourself in a situation where you can do nothing but cry and hope that your girlfriend and saviour can make everything better. her empty promises remain unsure on whether she can truly fix it or not.
☆ WARNINGS - guns, violence, blood, gunshot wound, angst, crying, swearing, gore, use of pet names, tinsey mention of smut (blink n it's gone), use of 'good girl' but not in a sexual way, intended lower case, happy ending guys dw!! nothing I write is ever proofread 🩷
your pants were heavy, blood gushing between your finger tips as your breaths heaved and your eyes blinked.
fuck, fuck, fuck.
your girlfriend was nowhere to be seen. weird, she was with you possibly five minutes ago. you had gotten separated when you needed her the most, as soon as she left your line of view, everything turned to shit. your wound bled at an alarming pace, blood oozing out between your fingers which desperately hung to your side in attempts to soothe it.
"where are you?" came the voice of a man, the man in which that had impaled your stomach with his knife already. there was no way you could escape him. he was too fast, too slick, too sly. "you can hide all you want but that wound is gonna slow you down." his voice sounded almost playful, as if he were having fun. perhaps he was, perhaps this was his idea of a good time. "i'm gonna find you eventually..." you could hear his footsteps walking around. "that's okay, i like a good chase."
the thought of him winning, grabbing a hold of you and doing whatever it was he was going to do, your stomach churned. you felt dizzy, partially at the thought, partially due to the blood around your stomach.
how did you even end up here?
"please, els." you were begging now, eyes big and glossy. how could ellie refuse? if there was one thing ellie could call a 'weakness' though she refused she had any, it was you.
she sighed, rolling her eyes. "sweetheart, why do you wanna come on patrol with me?" patrol could mean many things. it could mean going to each checkpoint and ticking off the boxes that there was no suspicious activity while holding hands and skipping. it could mean fighting a bunch of clickers while you yelled and stumbled about. ellie particularly hated taking down zombies when you were around. you were bashful, clumsy. sure, she loved you more than anything in the world but that was just it. she loved you so she didn't take her eyes off you, making sure you were safe rather than taking down the stalker running at her. sometimes, patrol meant being bent over one of the tables in the station, taking her strap like the good girl you were. patrols were never the same.
whatever would come of this patrol, you didn't care for there was only one thing on your mind. "wanna spend time with you." snuggling up against her.
as the air grew colder, you grew needier. there was nothing you loved more than being able to spend time with your lover especially in the cold winters of jackson. whether that was on patrol or snuggled together in your bed, you just wanted her.
her lips had pressed a chaste kiss to the crown of your head, smiling into your hair. "you're cute." you were naive, you knew it but you had ellie williams wrapped around your little finger. and she'd never know.
you stuck your head out from her chest, big grin dancing on your lips. "so can i go?" excitement bubbling in your chest. you hated it when ellie left you alone to go on patrol. more often than not you'd spend your time cooped up in the house, alone. ellie had begged dina and jesse to come get you multiple times, bring you outside for some fresh air or simply join you in the company of your home. but it didn't matter if jesus himself walked into your living room. as long as your girlfriend was away at patrol, you were a pouting mess. which is why you often opted for being alone. you would hate to think that you were making dina and jesse sad.
she rolled her eyes, lips turning up at their corners. "I guess, you can." and she heard that squeal that erupted from you, giggling as you jumped up and down. she could only roll her eyes again, though her smile was growing wider. she loved the days when you smiled, she hated the days when you cried. "c'mon, baby, we gotta go find your scarf." the white one in which has been lost for months now.
"you're not gonna find it." you shook your head as she searched the room, you had seated yourself up on the desk, legs dangling as your tongue danced across the lollipop between your fingers. when ellie said 'we have to find' she really means 'i' for she wouldn't dare let you lift a finger. if she had it her way, she'd be the one holding the lollipop to your mouth.
"yeah?" sticking her head out from the box she had been searching. her hair was sticking up in all directions. she left for patrol early in the morning, there was no point looking then. "why not?"
you shrugged your shoulders, tongue swirling around to taste the strawberry. " 's not gonna be there, been lookin' for ages." when you 'looked' for things, you barely skimmed, standing up and eyes bouncing off every wall in the room. you'd have given up in seconds.
there was a smirk dancing on her lips as her feet moved her to where you sat on the desk. her fingers reached up, taking the lollipop from your hold. "maybe you haven't been looking hard enough, angel." her tongue fell onto the strawberry sweet, swirling around. you stared, hypnotised. there was something about the way she carried herself, that small, almost hidden smirk and the way she spoke. it made your stomach do cartwheels. but as you watched her tongue swirl around the lollipop that was only in between your lips a second ago, you found your thighs clenching together. how was it that she was the only one who made you feel this way? when she passed it back to you, your eyes were still strained on her lips and the little freckles above it, your stomach swooned and your head suddenly felt rather ditzy. you couldn't pull your eyes away from her lips. until, that was, she pulled out the scarf from behind her back. "found it." she spoke, before her lips met your own.
the lollipop wasn't the only thing you sucked that night (i'm so sorry)
you heaved out breaths, unsure of what to do. your brows were knit together in worry. "come on, angel, make this easy for me, won't you?" you squeezed your eyes shut closed. you wanted to be home by the fire with ellie, you wanted to be away from this man that made your hands shake and your stomach bleed.
you were sat behind a flipped over car, hands practically vibrating from how much they were shaking. where was ellie? you had lost sight of her ages ago, right before a knife had been plunged into your stomach. you didn't scream then, you wondered if she even knew you had been stabbed.
the man knew you were here, he hadn't seen ellie yet. you hadn't seen him at first, thinking the checkpoint was clear. it wasn't until your girlfriend grasped the edge of your scarf, bringing you down to crouch behind a wall with her that you realised you were not alone. when a bottle knocked over, he realised he wasn't alone either.
you were supposed to stay put, wait until ellie snuck up and attacked him before finding her. but you got worried, your stomach churned and your lip had been bitten raw. it had been too long since you'd seen her and you were beginning to get worried. you made the stupid choice of leaving your hiding space to go find her. now, you were sat with your hands holding the wound that you knew was your own fault.
"come out and i'll go easy." he was going to kill you, if the wound in your stomach didn't. your breaths began to get even more laboured. you didn't want to die. you still had so much you wanted to do. you couldn't die, not now, not because of him. the air grew silent, his foot steps stopped. somehow, it seemed even more scary when you couldn't tell where he was. you held one bloody hand over your mouth, covering it so he couldn't hear you breathe. the air was thick and your head turned, barely peaking over the edge of the car. you turned back, a face right next to you. "found you."
a scream fell from your lips, a blood curdling scream as you snatched your hand away.
you tried to run, thrashing against him as you made a swift exit. he grasped your wrist and despite the knife in your stomach, you kicked your leg upwards, hitting him right in the balls (dina had taught you well) it stumped him for a second and you barely managed to move away.
he let you think you could be free, he didn't allow the thought to last too long though. his hand reached out and grasped a hold of your leg, sending you flying to the ground.
you fell, knife piercing your stomach further. it hadn't been too deep earlier, but now? you were sure you were already dead. you didn't scream but your mouth was open, breaths falling irregularly. you wouldn't have been able to turn around until he flipped you over, he'd climbed on top of you.
he held another knife, pressing it against your tear stained cheek as he grinned. "I really did a number on you, didn't I angel?" his fingers danced on the top of the knife in your stomach. you almost wished he'd stick it in further and simply put you out of your misery. "how about i end this and just―"
it had ended, alright.
you watched as an arrow pierced straight through his scull, bloody edge sitting right between your eyes, not grazing your skin. his own mouth fell open, as yours had only he had been unlucky enough to not be able to close it. his eyes rolled back to the back of his head and his body slid off of yours.
crying, you managed to sit yourself up, back against the mossy wall, the knife was plunged in deep, your hands covered in blood, as was your face. "angel?" her voice was sweet and concerned, nothing alike his cold, teasing one. "shit, shit!"
"ellie?" you practically babbled, hands holding the knife. "hurts."
"i know, i know." despite her rushed tone, she still sounded so comforting. "you're gonna be okay, i'm right here, baby." and you almost believed her until you took notice of just how bloody your hands were. it was a deep red, coating every inch of them, you stared at them, unable to move. "can i have this?" she was already unwrapping the white scarf from across your neck. "thank you, sweetheart, you're doing so good." her words would have made your heart swell if it weren't for the fact that your eyes could barely stay open. "I have to take it out, okay?"
your eyes suddenly went wide, as if they hadn't been sleepy at all. you shook your head, tears falling rapidly. "els, no." a whimper falling from your lips. "don't wanna, please." you would have begged her not to. but you knew it wasn't fair. she was trying to help you, she had to help you but you didn't want her to rip the knife from your stomach.
"i know, baby but i have to." she moved you so that you fell limp against her shoulder. the knife twisted in your stomach. "hold my hand, there you go." your hand was in her own, holding it hard. "you can squeeze as hard as you want, okay? ready? three, two―" you cried into her shoulder, holding her hand so hard it might have fallen off if it weren't for the fact that she was holding on just as hard. "good girl, good girl, you did so well, see? it's done, it's over."
she used the scarf to tie around your waist, tightening it so she could keep the pressure. you watched as the red blood soaked the white fabric. " 'm gonna die, aren't i?" babbling as you cried into her shoulder, you couldn't pull your eyes from the blood that left your stomach. though, the pain had dulled and your eyes were heavy. "don' wanna die."
"hey, hey, look at me." your face sat between her palms as she looked into your eyes, comfort leaking into your heart as soon as she did so. "you're not gonna die, alright? you're gonna be fine, els' gonna make it all better, won't she?" speaking about herself in third person as if she wasn't right there.
you nodded, salty tears falling down your cheeks. "you're gonna make it better." you nodded to yourself, eyes opening and closing heavily.
"yeah, yeah i'm gonna make it all better. stay awake, baby, come on, open those pretty eyes f'me." but as much as she willed you to, your eyes couldn't stop fluttering open and closed, heavily blinking at her. "you're gonna be just fine, hold on, baby."
you didn't register when she hauled you onto shimmer, turning you so that your body was limp against her front, head leaning against her chest. you didn't register much actually. the pain dulled and the girl continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. but you couldn't hear now, too caught up in the ringing and how bright the sky seemed to be. your eyes were scrunched shut, head in her chest as you wished and prayed on every star that you'd wake up inside your shared home in jackson, eyes opening to reveal you sleepily smiling on ellie's chest.
you could pray all you want, there was no god coming to save you only ellie williams.
the sound of yelling made you open your eyes against the harsh light. you could make out the muffled yelling of the paramedics taking you away, yelling for certain materials. your eyes were strained on ellie who was being held back by one of the male nurses, James, you were sure his name was. you knew him because he and ellie hated one another. you remembered ellie telling you he was jackson's biggest dickhead and that she'd love to give him a 'knuckle sandwitch' which made you laugh in the moment but right now, nothing could make you laugh. your eyes never left her, though, even after she found her first swinging at the man and suddenly joel was there, holding her back while everyone crowded around the commotion.
when you woke, you were, unfortunately, not in the comfort of you and ellie's home. but you must say, it was much better than the place you had been sitting before, all mucky and bloody.
you blinked, eyes adjusting to the light. "hi, baby." ellie's soft voice as you blinked at her, attempting to get up. "nuh-uh, rest." she pushed your shoulders down softly.
"where am i?" you mumbled softly. you knew where you were but the dosage of your painkillers was so high that you could barely recognise the colour of the bedsheets. and yet, you could see her so clearly, your angel, your saviour, your knight in shining armour.
"med shaft." she spoke, hand holding yours as her thumb brushed against your knuckles.
your eyes glanced down to her hand that was covered with a white bandage. "you hit him." you murmured softly. "the nurse."
"he wouldn't let me see you." she spoke, as if she were defending her own actions. which, she sort of was. "had to make sure my angel was okay, didn't i?"
"you made it better." just like she said she would. ellie didn't lie to you, she wouldn't.
"yeah, i did." she seemed proud of herself. she should be. she saved your life. and if you weren't so loopy right now you would have given her a whole speech and the cuddles of a lifetime.
"thank you." was all you could muster, for now.
"of course, sweetheart." she just wished she could have done more. you shouldn't be here in a hospital bed right now, she should have never left you in the first place, guilt consumed her but she shook it off with a small smile. "we're gonna have to get you a new scarf though." cringing slightly.
"no point." sloppy grin on your face. "jus' gonna loose it again anyway."
she leaned down, pressing a short kiss to your lips. "then i'll help you find it."
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#queer#ellie williams angst#ellie#williams#ellie williams#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams smut#ellie williams imagine#ellie williams oneshot#lesbian#the last of us#tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie williams the last of us#the last of us hbo#the last of us x reader#ellie williams drabble#ellie drabble#ellie tlou#ellie williams tlou#tlou x reader#tlou x y/n#ellie williams x y/n#tlou fluff#tlou angst#tlou imagine#tlou oneshot#gay#lgbtq
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Taken Care Of Audio (read story first)
TAKEN CARE OF (WITH AUDIO)
Pairing: Reader x Ellie Williams
Summary: NSFW, 18+ ONLY, minors do not interact. You will be blocked. Ellies had a long, hard day on patrol, and after stitching her up she requests some TLC.
Warnings: Smut heavy, sub!reader, dom!ellie, face riding (E!receiving), oral (E!receiving), masturbation (R!), cum eating (kinda)? Praise kink, minor blood kink, pain kink, stitches, boob play (E!receiving), first time smut writing, did not proof read (but probably should have...)
Author's Notes: Soooo I've never written smut before, lmfao. I made the audio first, for my thirsty Ellie girls on tiktok but this audio got a bit… out of hand (wayyy too graphic) so I didn't want to post it on there. I had a whole scenario in mind with the audio so I figured I might as well write it down and share it here. I am also very obsessed with Ellie receiving so I subconsciously brought that to life while editing the audio. I know it's not great, but it was very fun to make and write soo.. Please be nice to me, I'm sensitive. Lol. (I put in the story when the audio clip applies, the story starts with context) I’d like to improve my writing cause this was a good time so any advice would be appreciated!!
I hear the door downstairs creak open and shut, a bit louder than normal. I can track the footsteps marching to the stairs and I listen with a small smile as the thuds make their way up. I hear soft profanities getting closer. Ellie is home.
Sitting on our bed I turn my head right in time to see the door open, grinning at her as she walks in. She has that crease in her brow that I recognize as her tell-tell sign that she had a shit day. She shoots me a sly glance before looking away to take her flannel off leaving her in a white tank, dirty and disheveled she pulls it over her head.
My eyes trace down her back, scarred and bruised. Muscular, and toned. Heart flutters, and a familiar heat builds. It's crazy how after all these years just seeing her still triggers these primal feelings. She just does something to me. She always has. My eyes stop wondering when I see a deep fresh cut following the curve of her hip.
“Shit els? What happened” I get up and pace towards her keeping my eyes on the wound.
She bends over pulling her shoes off, losing her balance a bit and mumbling a frustrated “fuck” under her breath. Now behind her, I prod at the gash and she swears again. I can feel her flinch.
“I'll go get the stitches, sit down.” I say pulling her to the bed. She hits the bed with a thud and leans her elbows onto her knees.Shaking her head “it's not that bad babe, im fine.” She looks up at me and gives a half-hearted smile.
“I know you're fine,” I say, giving her a gentle look “I just don't want it to get infected, okay?”
“Anything you say doc” she says with a smirk before turning to address the cut herself. She touches it lightly and winces when her fingers make contact. I head to the bathroom across the hall from our room and grab the small white kit from the medicine cabinet, and make my way back to our room. She's still sitting at the end of the bed, now rolling her neck side to side.
I plop on the bed behind her, “okay, are you gonna tell me what happened now?” trying to distract her as I begin stitching the gash closed. Her back flexes and I hear her sharp intake of breath. Heart flutters.
“Fucking stalkers. I hate those things” she says, shaking her head and looking up to the ceiling. “I was on patrol,”
“With Jesse right?”
“Don't remind me,” she says with a scoff that is cut off by another huff as I add a new stitch. Damn. Every breath in sync with the sutures releases a morbid butterfly into the pit of my stomach. “Yeah, I was on patrol with jesse. We were checking out that one restaurant by the lodge, and I found an entrance to the attic. That place has been cleared out for like forever, so I went up on my own and got jumped by a stalker.” she shrugged her shoulders. “Fucking thing nailed me into an old piece of plywood. Piece of shit.” I tie her last stitch off, and give her a gentle pat to tell her she was finished. I got up and made my way to the bathroom to put the kit back.
I turned in the doorway on my way out, “Maybe you should’ve been more careful.” She swings her head at me with squinted eyes. I shrug and turn, heading to the bathroom “just saying!”
“Fuck off” she calls back, I lightly laugh.
Back in the bedroom, she's lying on her stomach, head resting on her hands. “And then of course Jesse had to give me a fucking lecture about not going anywhere on my own, team communication! All that bullshit.” She turns onto her side propping herself up with one arm, “I’m just so fucking over it.” she looked absolutely exasperated. Oh how I love her dramatics. I sit facing her and her free hand falls to my hip. She looks at her hand, then up to me. Those green eyes, familiar and warm. Home. I smile at her.
“That sucks. I'm sorry. I mean Jesse should know by now, there's no getting through that thick skull of yours. What's a lecture gonna do?” I smirk at her.
“Ouch.” she sneers at me, one brow up. She lets out a quiet laugh, and looks back down to her hand on my waist. “Thanks for stitching me up babe.”
“You know I don't mind.” I say casually. She smiles, an inside joke painting a picture on the walls of her thoughts.
“So weird that you're into that.” she chuckles
“I'm not into that.. I just..” her eyes darted to mine. My heart pounded in my ears. She's right, but it was just so blunt. “There's just something about a strong woman who needs my help.” I say fawning innocent eyes, partially joking, but subconsciously egging her on. She sees right through me.
She raises her eyebrows, taking her hand from my hip and pushing herself up so she's sitting opposite of me. She smiles, “so stupid.” her eyes drift down to my lips, then back to me. I feel red flush my cheeks. Her gaze darkens slightly, noticing. She tilts her head looking at me. “I mean it's okay that you are, i'm not kink shaming” Her hand meets my thigh, electric, and she gives me a sideways smile. I gape at her, trying to make light of the tension building between us.
“So you like taking care of strong women? Yeah?” she says quietly with a smile in her voice as her eyes trace down my body to her hand. Her thumb started circling the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “Funny, you're normally the one that begs to be'' she looks up at me teasingly “taken care of.” Fuck. I feel heat pool in my belly. My knees squeeze together by their own volition. She feels it and her teasing gaze turns to something else as her eyes shift to them. She bites her lip subtly. This woman.
Her hand moves to the button of her pants, “well i did have a hard day,” she undoes it and glances at me with an evil smile. “And since you enjoy taking care of strong women” she pulled on her zipper. “Mind doing me a favor?”
Jesus Christ.
“What do you have in mind?” I say, wide eyed. I try to sound cool but my voice comes out hungry. Starved. I watch the switch flip in Ellie's eyes at my words.
“Take your shirt off.” she demanded with raised brows, and before I could think I was pulling her baggy shirt I was lounging in over my head. I'm left sitting there topless, with nothing but my black underwear on. She rolled famished eyes over my bare skin for what seemed like an eternity. Her eyes settled back on mine. I fidgeted my hands in my lap, feeling suddenly too vulnerable. She leans in slowly without breaking eye contact and my breath catches. Inches from me she whispers “Take off my pants.”
Immediately I am in her service, at her beck and call. She knows all she has to do is ask. I'll do anything for her. She leans back onto her hands and lifts her hips slightly as I peel her jeans down the soft, yet lean, curves of her hips. Down her thighs, over her knees, and then calves, my eyes tracing every line of her legs. I toss them on the floor, and look back up to her awaiting further instruction. Her eyes are smiling with a dark inflection.
“Lay down.” I looked at her confused, thinking I was the one taking care of her. Her tone was not a question however, so I obliged. I centered myself on the bed and pulled the nearest pillow under my head, keeping my eyes on her as she stood up and took her white boxers off. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of her. Pretty, untamed. My knees squeeze, I don't try to hide it. She looks at them, and scans back up to my eyes. She stares into me as she walks around the bed to my side. I bite at my nail anxiously.
“I want you to take care of me, make me feel good m’kay? Can you do that for me?” she asks with a small smile. I nod.
She looks over me once again (START OF AUDIO) “fuck, you look so pretty.” She climbs onto the bed, looking at me like prey to a predator. “Be a good girl for me” she whispers, as she swings one of her legs over my head. Shit, I get it now. Her pussy meets my lips and she lets out a soft “fuck” at my eager mouth. My arms wrap around her thighs, hands gripping soft flesh. She starts to move, pleasuring herself on my tongue. She moans softly, “needed this” she says desperately as her eyes drift close and her head drifts to the ceiling. Her taste envelopes me, her wetness growing by the second with the addition of my saliva wetting her folds.
“Okay,” she moans, picking up her pace, grinding against my face. She looks down at me, before her eyes dart shut “There!” I feel her body pulse at the peak of her thrusts and I know she's found her spot. Her bud flicking roughly over my tongue. “Oh shit.. There. There we go” she continues at her pace for a moment. Her pulsing getting stronger. Her eyes snap open and peer at me “Jesus, you feel so good.” she says as her head rolls back and her eyes closed again. She continues her rhythm as I pull my arm from under her leg and skim my hand up her body “okay” she says lost in the sensation. My palm cups her right breast and I squeeze impatiently, then rub a loving thumb over her nipple, circling it. “Damn… yeah” she sighs then her hand meets mine and squeezes the sensitive flesh with me “Baby just like that.” she bites her lip with a whispered “fuck” as she rides my face.
Her moans and the graphic sound of her wetness fill the room. I reach my other hand down into my underwear and begin circling my own clit firmly, unable to avoid the tension building within my own body. “Fuck me.” she whines into the air, before looking down to me with adoring eyes, “that's my good girl.” her eyes tighten, “lets go” she whispers as she begins to grind harder and faster into my mouth. “Come on.” My hand on my core meets her pace. “Good. There. Okay. There we go” I love how she talks mindlessly when we fuck. Her voice is enough to bring me closer to my own apex. I begin moaning beneath her, unable to contain my own pleasure. She looks down at me “shhhh shh shh shh” she hushes as she pulls my hand from my aching clit before I can reach my undoing. I whimper in disappointment as she pulls my arm from beneath her leg and takes my other one from her chest before pinning them above my head in her strong hands, deepening her weight into my face. “Shut up” she corrects.
Her rhythm continues and I can tell the new pressure she's added is building her quickly. “God damn.” she says as her eyes squeeze shut. “Okay” That same wrinkle between her eyes deepens again, this time out of pleasure. She rides harder pushing the back of my head further into the pillow. Her moans grow louder, more animalistic. her hands on my wrists tighten to the point that I am sure that there will be a mark. “Holy fuck” she gasps. She pushes hard against me and I can feel the pulse intensify, her sounds grow and grow until suddenly her hands let go of my wrists and bury deep into my hair, pushing me even further into her just at the right time when her head falls back in quiet breathy moans, she rides out her high on my mouth. Her legs shaking and clit pounding as I suck against it, encouraging her. Tasting her. Worshiping her. She lets out a whimpering breath at the end of her climax and looks down at me beneath her. “Oh my god babe.” She slowly lifts off of my face and I see her flinch slightly at the air touching her sensitivity. She takes a breath before looking at me with a lazy smile.
“All right. Your turn.”
#ellie williams#ellie x reader#ellie williams tlou#ellie smut#ai audios#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x you#the last of us#the last of us ellie#ellie williams x reader#ellie x y/n
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PRETTY WHEN YOU CRY ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚
ೃ⁀➷ pairing: sub stalker charlie x fem dom reader
ೃ⁀➷ warnings: stalking, masturbation, fingering, pre mature ejaculation, dacryphilia, overstimulation, humiliation kink, mean (ish) reader.
ೃ⁀➷ notes: this wasn’t supposed to be this long but enjoy…
you had just gotten in bed, with your hands in between your legs, right above your underwear as you heard loud rustling from outside your window. you knew it was charlie. you knew he would come to your window, watch you change, watch you touch yourself.
he wasn’t aware that you knew about his perversions, how he’d cum in his pants by just watching you squirm under your own touch. was it bad that you found it hot? the way he stalked you, the way he was completely and utterly obsessed with you. you’d leave your blinds open every night, just incase he wanted a show.
you and charlie had a couple of classes together and would talk every now and then. you had always found him attractive but you knew he was infatuated with you. you saw the way he looked at you, spoke to you, about you. you’d have to be dumb not to realize.
knowing charlie was right outside your window, you hand wasn’t enough. so you decided to ‘catch’ him.
you got out of bed, walking over to your window, you could hear charlie trying to climb off the ledge of your roof. you opened the glass to it see just who you thought it was, a guilty look painted on his face.
“what are you doing here char?” you questioned, playing dumb. charlie’s eyes scanned over you, you wore pyjama shorts that fell just under your ass and a tight tank top that he could see your hard nipples through.
“i-i can, i can explain myself.” he stuttered, panicking.
“go on then.” you told him. you crossed your arms over your chest, making your tits press together which drove him mad.
“i—”he muttered, he couldn’t even think of an excuse right now.
“were you watching me touch myself?“ you teased, your lips turned up into a soft smirk. poor charlie was so confused, he thought you would file a restraining order on him but it almost seemed like you enjoyed it.
“no- no i wasn’t i swear.” his tone was meek, begging to be believed, he even put his hands up, as if you were a cop.
“i’m not stupid charlie, you can tell me the truth. you’re not in trouble.”
“okay… i was.” he couldn’t look at you while admitting this.
“why don’t you come in my room char, it’s kinda chilly out hm?” you bit back a smile.
“uh, okay.” he crawled through your window, you closed it behind him. charlie examined every inch of your room, obviously he had seen it many times but never up close. charlie took in every detail of your room. he surveyed photos of you and your friends you had hung on your wall, little trinkets you kept, the products on your dresser.
you laid back down on your bed, propping yourself up on your elbows. you motioned for charlie to sit at the end of your bed, he obeyed.
“charlie?” you called, disturbing his train of thought.
“yeah.” he replied almost immediately.
“were you touching yourself while watching me?” you were driving him insane, but he deserved it.
“mhm.” he nodded, unable to meet your eyes. he felt so bad, so guilty, so pathetic.
“okay, well since you interrupted me, why don’t you watch me and try not to.”
“i dunno if i can.” he looked down at the his boner, poking through his sweatpants.
“kinda owe it to me char. i mean, i did just catch you stalking me, the least you can do is do what i say. plus i wanna hear you beg to touch yourself.”
“fuck.” he groaned. you giggled at him before pulling your tank top off, making sure charlie’s eyes were on you. the sight of your boobs right in front of him only made him harder, he wanted to touch them or suck on them, anything would be enough.
“bet you wanna feel my tits so bad huh? i mean you’ve been watching me change, jerking yourself off while looking at them. this isn’t the first time you’ve been outside my window.” you taunted. “gonna have to earn it.”
“how-how do i earn it?” he wasn’t even concerned with how you knew that he had been watching you for a while, just desperate to feel you.
“already told you char, watch me touch myself without touching yourself.” you pulled down your shorts to reveal the lacy thong you wore. charlie couldn’t help but notice the huge wet spot on your underwear.
‘you did like this.’ charlie thought to himself. he stared at you as you rubbed your clit over your soaked thong, teasing yourself with one hand, playing with your tits with the other.
“you’re so… wet.” charlie said in a breathy voice.
“mhmm was thinking about you char.” you told him. his eyes went wide,
“r-really? you were?” he smiled at you. charlie sounded so pathetic, you loved it.
“mhmm.” you nodded, slowly removing your thong. the sight of your body entirely exposed forced charlie to whimper.
“i-i think about you, like that, a lot.” he was struggling so hard not to touch himself, it almost hurt. at this point, your cunt was throbbing, desperate for stimulation.
“i know you have.” you replied before rubbing your clit in circular motions, humming in pleasure.
“can i um, can i touch you instead…like finger you? i won’t touch you anywhere else if i’m not allowed to yet.” charlie couldn’t bare just watching you. if he couldn’t touch himself, he wanted to touch you. “please?”
“not yet, be patient.” you spread your legs further apart, pumping two fingers from your free hand into your entrance slowly. “feels so fucking good, don’t touch yourself yet charlie.” you groaned.
“t’so hard not to.” he whined, putting his hands behind his back to retrain himself.
“i know, you’re so needy char. fuck!” you panted. both of your hands sped up, making your moans louder. you were squirming so much. charlie watched you closely, taking in every one of your sounds, movements, and expressions. he whispered compliments as you brought yourself closer to your climax.
after you came, you sat yourself back up on your elbows to see that charlie’s pants were wet. “did you cum in your pants? that needy huh, can’t even wait ten minutes?”
“i know, m’sorry.” charlie said shyly, he looked away
“i didn’t even touch you…you didn’t even touch yourself and you came, holy shit… you don’t get to touch my tits yet, couldn’t even hold off.” you let out a short scoff which was followed by silence. charlie was so embarrassed, not daring to look you in the eyes. he wished he could’ve just disappeared at that moment. “lay beside me char, i wanna see your cock charlie.” you purred. charlie followed your order, moving from the edge of your bed, next to you. “now show me, take off your shirt too.”
charlie nodded before swiftly removing his shirt. he then pulled down his sweat pants, exposing his cum filled boxers. finally, he took off his boxers to reveal his dick. he looked over at you, your eyes remained on his body.
“so perfect char, bet it’s really sensitive right now though hm?” you asked. charlie’s cheeks turned red at your compliment.
“thank you and yeah m’sensitive.” charlie responded.
you shifted your body so you were on your side, facing charlie. you tucked his hair behind his ear, bringing your mouth to charlie’s it you whispered, “i wanna make you cum again”.
charlie’s breath hitched, he couldn’t believe you were finally going to touch him. after countless nights of imagining that his hand was your warm, tight pussy wrapped around him or your soft hand pumping his cock, he was finally getting to feel you. “please make me cum again, please.” he begged.
“so needy.” you giggled, crawling downward until your lips met charlie’s sensitive tip. you placed short, gentle kisses on it, holding his shaft in your hand.
“oh my god, fuck.” he huffed, his breath heavy.
“i haven’t even started yet.” you nagged, taking your soft lips off his tip. while still giggling, you began slowly moving your hand up and down his shaft.
“mmm thank you.” a stupid smirk was plastered on his face as he watched you speed up your movements. after a few minutes, his chest began to rise and fall rapidly as his mouth hung open, high pitched and draw out whimpers leaving his lips. you felt his dick twitch in your hand before he came for the second time.
you took a second to think of a real punishment for him. as the idea crossed your mind, you immediately wrapped your mouth around his soft cock, feeling it grow in your mouth.
“wah- what are you doing? i, fuck, i can’t go again.” he babbled. you rolled your eyes in annoyance, taking your mouth off his dick.
“too bad isn’t it, didn’t i tell you that you owe me? charlie, you’ve been watching me, stalking me for weeks now. can’t you just do what i say?” your tone was weirdly calm.
“okay…m’sorry” he answered. you placed your mouth back on his now, painfully hard cock, hollowing your cheeks. “ahhh! it’s too much.” he moaned. unable to stay till, charlie began squirm and bucking his hips into your mouth.
“ohmygoddd please i’m sorry, fuck aughhh! i’m sorry for stalking you, it’s too much please!” his words were slurred, charlie didn’t even know what he was pleading for. tears began streaming down his face from overstimulation. you bobbed your head up and down on his cock at an increasingly fast pace, the room filled with charlie’s loud sobs and whimpers. you then felt that same twitch as before and as you suspected, shortly after, charlie’s warm cum filled your mouth, you swallowed every drop.
you returned back to where you laid before, watching tears flood from his blue eyes. “you look so pretty when you cry charlie”.
he turned towards you. “thank you.” he sniffed as you wiped his tears from his cheek. holding charlie’s jaw in your hand, you traced his cheek with your thumb. “you’re always pretty.” he spoke. the two of your faces were so close together, charlie brought his lips to yours, you kissed back passionately, feeling charlie grin against your lips. one of his hands found its way too the bare skin right under your boob. “can i um- can i?” he questioned after pulling away from your lips.
“go ahead.” you responded before attaching your lips to his once again. charlie cupped your tit in his hand, squeezing and kneading it.
“so fucking perfect.” he groaned before shortly pecking your lips.
“charlie.” you said, staring at him.
“mhm?” he mumbled, looking away from your tits and up at you.
“next time you’re outside my window, you can just come in.” you purred. your words forced charlie to whimper. he could do this again? touch you? maybe even be inside you? god he felt lucky.
“actually?” he looked at you with that pathetic smile.
“yeah, maybe you’ll get to touch more than just my tits next time.” you smirked at him, kissing him once more before he cleaned himself up, climbing back out of your window.
the next night, you heard tree taps at your window. knowing it was charlie, you opened the window to let him in. almost immediately, you began undressing each other between staggered sloppy kisses. the night ended in him sobbing after you rode him, making him cum five times, which left his cock red. he knew he deserved it.
#🩰 ೃ⁀➷ 𝐚𝐯𝐚 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬!#💋𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐞𝐫 ୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆#rory culkin#rory culkin fanfic#rory culkin scream 4#rory culkin scream#culkin cult#charlie walker#charlie walker x you#charlie walker x y/n#charlie walker x reader#charlie walker smut#perv! charlie walker#sub! charlie walker#charlie walker scream 4#charlie walker fanfic#scream#scream 2011#scream smut#scream franchise#scream 4#scream x reader
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please don't kill me mr ghostface (part 1)
(AO3 Mirror), (Main Masterlist), (Kinktober '23 Masterlist)
(Part 2 - coming soon!)
pairing: stalker!Miguel x f!reader, slight yandere undertones. (he's a murderer lowkey but very gentle and sweet and scary hot that's all guys I promise.)
summary: murders on campus. the odd toothbrush goes missing. what's new, honestly. life keeps ticking and you end up at a Halloween party somewhere you shouldn't. there, you meet a gorgeous man in a strange mask. he seems sweet, and all you're looking for is a bit of fun. what could go wrong?
warnings: 18+ , fingering, anal play (mig eats ass, send tweet!) , rimming, p in v, soft dom mig, some switchy + needy behaviour, mild threat of violence (not by mig), alcohol consumption. Minors DNI
a/n: 5k words of ignoring red flags. girl get a grip!
wc: 5.2k
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You look too good to feel this shitty.
That's the thought you're left with, picking at flimsy spiderwebs draped on a sofa. Sandwiched between two couples making out like their life depends on it, of course, but that's beside the point.
“Someone said there's CCTV of a guy walking out the building at 3am… seems a little convenient, if you ask me…”
There's a TV on in the background, barely cutting through the dense chatter. By this point, your eyes have glazed over, trying not to let them rattle around in your skull. Drunken conversation around you, and it's the same thing as always; long, winding tales of a campus killer - the kind out of a cheesy slasher. What the news says, officially, is that there weren't any links between those 3 bodies that turned up out on the playing field, an empty dorm, a supply closet; but it hasn't stopped people from indulging in wild speculation.
“No, no, she just didn't turn up to my Econ class….I swear–”
Stay in pairs. Don't walk alone at night. Whilst you think it's all tangential at best, you're not one to tempt fate. The gossip, you could do without. But it doesn't hurt to keep yourself safe, pepper spray nestled in your usual bag.
Tonight, however, you've left it at home, thinking the friends you came with would be enough. Somewhere, somehow, they're off chugging shit beer and you're milling about the place and sinking into couch cushions. There's something sticky by the seat, and there's a crackle as you're jostled - the sharp edge of a stray elbow almost knocks your drink away.
Fuck.
For one night only, you're a cheerleader. A short, short skirt and little top; it has you feeling overdressed. Even though you've left the pompoms at home, next to your taser; seemingly, you've read the mood wrong - stupidly assuming people would dress up for a Halloween party. As you make your way to the kitchen, tugging down your skirt here and there, that's all you can see; half-hearted costumes - cat ears, white sheets and flimsy masks. It feels like you stick out in comparison. You've gone all out, with nothing but the threat of a beer sodden lap for your trouble.
It's a big house. Alpha-delta-phi, kappa-something-or-the-other; a frat with too much money and too much time on their hands. With all the doors you walk past, shallow thuds and thumping ringing out behind them, you're as good as lost. The best ragers this side of campus - as raved about by one of your friends. It feels like bucketfuls of horseshit right now, wandering around packed halls - and oh. Is that the same staircase?
“ Fuck, watch it!” You clatter into the side of an arm, a t-shirt with a superman symbol emblazoned at the chest. He's pretty, but his features curl into a sudden sneer.
" Sorry –" You start but he doesn't let you finish, wagging a thick finger in your face.
There's a girl draped on his arm, merely watching as he shouts; loud over pumping music from the next room over.
"Hey, dipshit , you gonna keep staring? Mouth open like a fucking fish– do you know how much this shit costs?" Your eyes are wide, as he gets closer - stinking of alcohol and pot and God knows what else. You're not drunk enough to entertain this, shirking away from confrontation. The room is hot, his breath is sticky , and–
He grabs your arm. Immediately you're trying to wrench yourself away, not daring to look into blown pupils. Clammy, his grip tightens on bare skin and your stomach churns. He's solid, bigger than you and unable to keep the anger out of his voice…. and fuck. You're scared.
Fear, rising like bile at the back of your throat. Bitter and sharp, fear at the fact that there isn't anyone to help; that everyone else looks away and pretends that this isn't happening. Fear at the spittle that sprays from his mouth like poison, stinging skin. You screw your eyes shut, expecting a slap, a blow, or something worse and then…
Thud. The hand around your wrist is no more, replaced by a gentle pat on your shoulder. Nothing lingering, just a light touch to get you to open your eyes; to see that guy on the floor, clutching at a swollen jaw and split lip.
"You okay? "
It's deep, muffled by a mask, and the figure in front of you has to crouch to be heard over incessant chatter.
You're nodding, sheepishly, not trusting yourself to keep that edge out of your voice.
Ghostface, the masked man, the only other person at this party properly dressed up; he only cocks his head in a gesture that says a thousand words. His robe pools around his wrists, thick fabric that you grab onto without thinking, grip just as tight as your would-be assailant. You don't even want to think about it, what could've happened if someone hadn't stepped in. It has you biting back tears, more shaken than you'd like to admit.
"H-Hey, hey, easy…" He's rubbing little circles into your shoulder, hesitant. Your lip wobbles, ever so slightly, but he catches it, gently pulling you aside.
There isn't a crowd. The stragglers, those that saw the display, barely look at the guy on the floor, scrambling to his feet and far away. In the meantime, you fight off tears and force yourself to flash a shaky smile.
"Good. " You croak, taking his hands off your shoulders. "F-Fuck , I mean… I'm good. Thank you."
He doesn't quite budge, giving you that strange look again. At least, you think so, rearing up to his full height to cross his arms. Quiet incredulity, almost cartoonish, and it almost makes you laugh. Almost.
"Let me get you a drink… some water, or something." He says, stretching out a gloved hand. Sensing your hesitance, he quickly adds, "... Please ."
Chewing your lip, you only have to think for a second before taking it, and you're led out through double doors. Your masked man is big; broad shouldered and hulking, cutting through the writhing mass with ease. It's just as well, you think, unable to sort through the tangle of things that rattle around in your head. You hate this fucking school, sometimes. Boys will be boys. Wear more appropriate clothing. Well, wasn't she just asking for it? A culture of inaction; of hand-wringing and hand-waving… passing on the blame until three dead bodies show up on campus.
That's one thing you have to thank the so-called serial killer for, at least. At least something might actually change around here.
Empty, the kitchen is a mess, but nothing you wouldn't expect. Drink long gone; a distant memory spilled on a carpet, somewhere; you perch awkwardly around a counter, not knowing where to put your hands. Rattled, you've resorted to a glassy stare; stewing and festering and thinking so intensely it might frighten off your masked man.
It doesn't. He merely taps you, a gentle elbow to your side and he offers you a glass of water. Weakly, you give him a smile, gulping up the liquid.
"You here by yourself ?" He asks, muffled by plastic.
You can't help it, eyes wide at the implication - a masked man, a killer on campus - and he must realise the way it sounds.
In no time at all, he clarifies, "I just mean… fuck … is there someone I can call? So you're not alone."
It's a kind gesture. Kinder than you'd expect from a stranger. Slowly, you shake your head.
"They ditched me about an hour ago." You give a bitter laugh. "Just me and you, Mr Ghostface."
And with that he laughs; deep and sonorous, causing heat to bloom at your chest. Despite yourself, you smile, and you swear you see a glint of something behind the mask.
It has you itching for a drink. All of a sudden you make your way across the room, swiping at empty beer bottles and cans, rummaging around for some hard liquor. When you find it - a half empty bottle of something that smells like carpet cleaner and acetone - you're taking a swig, and offering it to the man across from you. It's sneaky, but you don't think he clocks your paltry attempt to see what he looks like under that mask.
He shakes his head, hands up in defeat.
"You sure?" Your voice is lilting, hazy around the edges. Creeping up closer, you press your body to his, taking another unceremonious gulp. Under that cloak - heavy, somewhat well made - you can feel him, lean and cut muscle that tenses as you get closer.
Batting your eyelashes, you make full use of the cheerleader get-up, snaking a dainty hand to his side, and then up to the counter. If you didn't know any better, you'd think he was ogling you, chest taught and tight at the way you feel against him.
Or maybe, he's bored as shit. You wouldn't know - with the mask, and all.
Wobbly, you clamber up onto the counter, helped up by a gentle hand at the small of your back… and oh. You like that: big, thick fingers that press into you, carefully tracing your waist… and why won't they go down a little further? Grab handfuls of the flesh at your thighs, your ass, everything in between?
He's too conservative for that, you think. Nervous, too. Nevertheless, he slots between your thighs, big palms flat next to your ass.
"I… I don't mind watching." He says, voice low.
It makes you giggle as you drink, sweet and soft, and liquid dribbles past your lips, down to collarbone. Mr Ghostface is gentle, tracing a finger across the juncture of your neck, light pressure on the vein that sits nice and pretty at its side.
It goes to your head. The alcohol, the large man of few words with a hand on your neck. When he finishes swiping at the liquid and pulls his hand away, you curl your hand around his, bringing it to your lips. Pert lips wrap around his finger, tongue swiping over leather, and you swear you can hear his breath hitch - heart clearly skipping a beat.
"Careful…" You say, leaning forward to press your tits against him, brushing away imaginary fluff from his shoulders. "I really like this costume."
"I like it too." He clears his throat. "You look nice."
"Nice? Is that all I get, Mr Ghostface?" You're teasing, tracing up his broad chest to his neck and then just under his chin. Carefully, you hook a finger under the thin strap of his mask, tugging ever-so gently.
Quickly, he stops you.
"Not yet, sweetheart."
You pout, flashing him a frustrated look - and God , does he want to kiss it off of you.
"But soon?"
"If you're good." You swear you can hear him smile, hands wrapping around your waist.
You get a bit bolder, hand tracing up his sleeve, clutching at thick, corded forearm. Watching intently as he keens, pushing you to the edge of the kitchen counter with only one hand at your back. This close, you even like the way he smells, like rust and oil and earth, the way he feels around you; strong arms caging you in, protecting you. You feel safe, for some reason.
When he sighs into you, exposing a sliver of tan neck, you feel your knees go weak - unable to stop yourself from mouthing at it, pressing little kisses into the skin. He seems so sensitive, rocking into the counter for some pressure already, clutching you closer and closer until there's a hickey blooming just under sharp jawline.
"Fuck- " He hisses, pawing at your waist a little more desperately.
Suddenly self conscious, you separate with a wet smack, and inspect your handiwork.
"Shit." Eyes wide, you press a finger into the flesh. Your masked man winces. "M'sorry. Got carried away."
He heaves, placing his head on your shoulder for a moment, trying to catch his breath.
"It's fine," He strains. "Don't worry… s'fine."
Admittedly, he doesn't seem too fine, adjusting what feels like a painful hard-on beneath a loose cloak.
Cradling his head so he can look at you, you whisper something bold, even for someone who's downed more than a couple shots worth of cheap liquor.
"I know somewhere… I-I think … that we could go if you wanted to…" His head lolls, and you hear him swallow roughly. "Somewhere quiet . We'd be alone. Just us."
A beat passes and you think you might've read this wrong, much too forward for your own good. It’s why he surprises you by nodding - slowly, at first, and then with more conviction. Taking your hand, he snakes it under his mask, and you almost gasp when you feel soft, plump lips at your knuckles and palm, pressing shaky kisses to the skin.
“I need to do something first.” He says it so quietly, you almost miss it under the mask. “Where can I meet you?”
You don’t ask questions.
“Pool house.” You nod towards the windows, overlooking a sizable pool. People mill about its edges, but you know the little house is off-limits for the night. “Side entrance. They… leave it unlocked, sometimes.”
He doesn’t ask questions.
Before he goes, he snakes a hand under your skirt, giving your ass a sizable squeeze - leaving you breathless.
You don’t feel the cold as you slip out, playing with a loose thread at the hem of your skirt. The side entrance is stiff but unlocked, and you duck past a screen, head on a swivel. Like a good girl, you sit on plush cushions, thighs pressed together to relieve a pressure that has been building since you met your masked man. And you want to touch yourself; to circle that little bud with clumsy fingers, imagining it was him.
You wait. And you wait. You settle between the cushions, adjust your skirt, look at your hair through a makeshift mirror - the glossy surface of windows overlooking the pool. Not wanting to risk turning on the lights, you wander past what little streams in from across the pool; flashing and pounding with the heady bass of music. You can't help but wonder where he's gone, if he's even coming, and what he had to do so desperately that he'd leave you wanting more.
At this point, you don't even care if he takes off his mask. You don't want to know a name, or see the real man underneath the costume. You just want him; writhing underneath as you bounce on his fat cock.
"Hey."
That voice makes you jump, swiveling to face him. How did he get in without you noticing? He was so quiet, so–
"Missed you." He says it so soft, it makes you melt, walking slowly towards him. Shrouded in shadow, as you get closer you notice he's shed his cloak, donned in a white t-shirt and straight leg jeans. Big boots, thick with fresh mud, thud onto the tile. When you meet, two figures cut by bright light, you almost gasp. He's taken off the mask. Instead of Mr Ghostface, you're met with a man - and he is so, so beautiful .
Tan skin. High cheekbones, a jaw that could cut glass. His hair is haphazardly slicked back, fluffy and curly in all the right places. But it's his eyes: mischievous and glinting and serious all at the same time - absolutely gorgeous. You could look at him like this forever; chest heaving, messy, out of breath.
Your hand comes to his chest. He’s hot to the touch, clasping his great big hand atop yours. Squeezing, he pulls you closer, other hand creeping up bare thigh, before hooking under your ass in a move that makes you squeal.
From this close, his lashes look so pretty; wispy and romantic and yearning.
"You look beautiful.” He doesn’t kiss you, not yet, content with only watching - studying you with sharp eyes. “Always do."
All you hear are the compliments, too tipsy to notice what the stranger implies. You're not usually one for a one night stand, but he is intoxicating - intense in a way that's hard to explain.
Carding one hand through the curls at the nape of his neck, you press your lips to his in a kiss that starts off sweet and quickly deepens. He is hungry and devouring; licking up your moans with plump lips.
You lead him to the sofa, only separating for fleeting breaths. Eyes low, illuminated by a flash of light here and there; you force yourself to concentrate on him , shuddering breaths and all. He’s hard, rocking into your lower half splayed out beneath him and arms caged around your head. It’s sly, but you snake a hand past his t-shirt, across his back and then fumble with the belt. It makes him smile, soft laughter spilling into your parted lips; before he sits up above you.
“You want it that bad, huh?” Windswept, he croons, batting away your hands to unbuckle the clasp himself.
You groan, shifting upwards. You don’t notice the way his eyes dart down, eying up the peek of thigh that spills out of little shorts.
“Say it f’me, sweetheart.” He hikes up your skirt, exposing your covered cunt. He’s gentle, pawing at the flesh, pressing the heel of his palm right above your clit.
“F-Fuck!” The pressure is delicious, and you roll your hips up, up, up; chasing some semblance of relief. When he stops, you whine - clutching at his forearm, frustrated. “Want it, please .”
“Want what?” He prompts, lifting his shirt over his head in one quick movement. You’re met with the wide span of his chest, muscle taut and tight above you.
“Want you in me. I want… I want you to fuck me ‘til I break, pound my fucking hole so hard I can feel it in the morning. I want– ”
You’re babbling, now, spurred on by the way he tugs off black shorts, lifting up your legs to slip them off. He’s too slow, clearly enjoying watching you squirm and writhe.
“You can have it, sweetheart.” He coos, before capturing you into another kiss. This time, he separates and you follow him up; finally parting with a wet smack. “I’ll give you whatever you want, however you want it… but you gotta do something first.”
“ Anything .” You breathe.
“Fuck yourself, for me. I…I–”
“You like to watch.” You finish it for him, breathless.
“Please.” His head dips low; big, red-brown eyes never leaving yours.
The way he says it leaves you panting, hung off of every word. And you croon, leaning back into couch cushions, already hot at the way he kneads his thumbs to the flesh near your pussy. This close, he can see the way your cunt pulses, eating up a tiny thong between glistening lips. He’s kneeling on the floor, now, snaking his body around to get a perfect view, flashing looks between both your pretty lips.
More than willing to oblige, you pat at your clit, sending sweet pleasure coursing through your lower half. Even though your legs tremble, he holds you down, placing gentle kisses to your inner thighs. Slipping your thong to the side, you dip two fingers past your slit, gathering up slick to press carefully into your hole.
“So… so pretty. ” He sighs, not daring to close his eyes despite the pleasure he feels. When you notice how his other hand is buried in his pants; jerking up and down to match your pace. You start slow, for now, pumping two fingers in and out, heel of your palm snug against your clit. The sounds are obscene, the wet schlick-schlick ringing out in the quiet room.
“Prettiest fucking thing I’ve ever s-seen.” Your stranger moans, slathering over your thighs with sloppy kisses, occasionally swiping at your knuckles. Lower and lower, as you get faster and faster, his tongue makes you feel amazing. You’re close - entranced by your spot in the limelight and the sharp eyes that watch every ministration.
It’s only when you’re knuckle deep, well and truly fucking yourself ; chasing something just out of reach with his help; when two things happen, catching you by surprise. The first, the one that sends electricity down your spine, that makes you jolt and shiver and almost cum right then and there…
…is a wet kiss pressed to your asshole. He slathers and slobbers and licks large stripes up and down; ripping a great moan out from you. He doesn’t stop there, spreading the globes of your ass to delve deeper, tongue-fucking you as your hand stills - unable to concentrate on anything else. Pornographic, he humps his lower half to the same pace, sealing his mouth over your hole. With the vibrations of his moans sending pleasure straight to your clit, you finally cum - a rolling, bubbling orgasm that ends just as intensely.
The second thing that happens, just as you fall off the edge, is that you’re plunged into darkness. The lights from across the pool, once bright and flashing; are cut off. The music stops, and chatter dies down. Your stranger holds you through it, licking up cum from your neglected cunt, whispering sweet things into the skin.
“There it is, baby. Nice n’ slow.” He soothes as you whimper, hand tight in his hair.
In the dark, you’re heaving, feeling him slow down as your cunt clenches around nothing, empty. Shaky, you sit up on your haunches as he follows you up.
“Is everything…? What happened?” You’re a little panicked, shaken up from your orgasm.
“You’re okay, you’re okay. ” He rubs little circles into bare skin. “Too much?”
You shake your head, nuzzling into him. He gives your forehead a kiss, and you feel warmth bloom across your chest.
He shifts. “Just give it a…”
As if on cue, a generator whirs to life, flooding the little room in red light. Something similar seems to happen across the pool, as you take a quick glance to the window.
Your head is a little fuzzy. It aches as you catch his eye, looking at you intently.
“Do you want to stop? We don’t have to–”
“No.” You say it resolutely, with so much force it even catches you off guard. “I want to.”
“Fuck.” He mutters, brows pressed together imperceptibly.
For someone you’ve just met, he still looks at you like ice about to melt, like he’s bearing witness to the last breaths of a dying star. He looks at you like he knows you; like he knows how many half-truths and one-night stands you’ve had to endure. It makes you shiver; here, bathed in crimson light, pressed against one another.
He starts with your lips, a gentle thumb pressed flat, and then deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s like before, you realise, the taste of liquor and leather long gone. He keeps his eyes on you, careful as he pops the thumb out, groaning at the length of spit that comes with a flash of your pink tongue. You splay yourself out underneath him, drinking in the sight above; your stranger, your masked man once upon a time, shirtless and breathless and rock hard against your cunt. Now, he tugs down black boxers, its band cut across his torso just so. Thick hair; dark, curly, neatly trimmed; and you reach to trace down his happy trail, to get a hand on his pretty cock.
He just watches , eyes dark, leaning forward to rock into your soft palm and put his mouth on the skin that pillows out from a tight crop top. To give him more access, you tug it down, exposing sensitive nipple. And then that tongue; searching, inquisitive, precise; wraps itself around the flesh. You keen - a pretty moan that has his heart fluttering and eyes clasped shut.
“Inside.” At first, it’s a whisper, said in the throes of deep pleasure. You repeat it, slowing your hand at his cock.
When he doesn’t answer; still slathering at your tits, pawing the flesh that spills out from your costume; you tug, a sharp thing that has him moaning and sitting up on his haunches.
“Said I wanted you inside, baby.” You say - and his breaths are deep, his eyes are wild. “Do you want it? Do you want me?”
“A-Always….course I— ” He stops himself, chewing at the inside of his cheek. Finally, he nods and you continue, satisfied.
“Watch.” You titter, reaching down to line him up; carefully gathering slick up at the head of his cock. His tip weeps; shuddering like your stranger does above, getting close and hitching up you up to stay flush against you. His eyes stay trained downward. Inside, he mouths at your neck, groaning once his cock sinks into your fluttering hole.
There’s a tightening grip at your hips, big hands bunching up the skirt to keep you close, with a careful pressure at your clit. That sends heat coursing through your veins, tasting deep crimson in the air. He fucks; up close and humping like he wants to crawl into your skin, with a fervour you’ve never encountered before. It has you hot and sticky, desperate for that biting edge that keeps slipping from dainty fingers. You start to put a hand at your clit, tracing between your bodies when a strong hand pulls it away. Firm.
“No, no, no…” He whispers it, putting your wandering hand to his face, kissing the palm.
“Please. ” You whine. “M’close. So close.”
You feel him twitch inside, hips stuttering at your tone.
“No.” He says it again, resolute. “I’m going to make you cum. Gonna make you feel so good, sweetheart… just… just be patient. Please. For me .”
You’re reaching up for a kiss, of which he obliges. This time, it stays sweet; pink tongues swiped over lips.
“Look at me.” His hips shift, changing angles to hit that sweet spot like you’ve been moulded to his dick - like he knows just where to touch you to make you fall apart. “Look at me, hermosa. Ohh f-fuck, you take me so well… so pretty. You gonna milk my cock? Feels so good around me, sweetheart, like you were made for me. Like we’re ... L-Like–”
You groan, unable to tear yourself away from his writhing form: strong, lean muscles, tensing in the red light. And oh, isn’t he pretty, mere moments away from release, from spilling thick cum inside you.
“M’gonna–”
“I know, I know, hermosa. ” You like the way he says it, rolling off his tongue like honey; treacled and sweet. “Cum f’me, sweetheart. Want to feel you clamp around my cock. Cum for me. ”
And just like that, you’re gone; nails digging into his back as you careen off a steep cliff’s edge. Your stranger quickly follows, pulling out to wrap a tight hand around the base of his cock, spilling onto your stomach as you clench around nothing.
You’re whining, getting ready to complain; why hasn’t he come inside? why doesn’t he want to stay?; when he stills, settling by your side. Propped up by one arm, he crouches down to stroke at your cheek, to touch your jaw, moving your head this way and that - as if he’s looking for something hidden behind bright eyes.
In the red of the emergency lights, you suppose you’re looking for something too. A beat passes, and then another. The generator splutters, whirring and coughing. The lights turn off; replaced by the noise and white lights from across the pool.
So lost in one another, you hadn’t quite noticed; everything else falling away.
He clears his throat, clambering off of the sofa and tugging up his trousers. Quickly, he returns, a bundle of towels draped across his bare shoulders, and then he wipes off the cum - gently, separating sweaty limbs. Your costume is more or less intact, but you’re unable to do more than just lay there. He’s diligent and patient, not in any sort of rush. When you sit up, he pulls on a shirt, kneeling by your legs to play with a loose thread at your skirt. Too intimate, you suppose. With his head on your lap, you don’t think you care.
“We should leave.” You say it first, what’s been left in the air for someone else to pick apart.
“We should.”
“Can’t leave together.” You say simply, curling a hand in his hair.
Humming, he looks up lazily, with a hint of a smile. “You go first.”
Neither of you make a move to get up.
“Mr Ghostface,” You start, giggling. “What happened to your mask?”
“Lost it.” He’s cryptic. Finally, he stands.
Your stranger stretches out a rough palm, and you take it, getting up on shaky legs. You almost collapse onto his chest, but he’s there; solid, stoic. Looking up, and it catches you off guard: the intensity of his stare, how he watches in a way that makes you feel stripped bare.
“You first.” He repeats, still holding on.
He’s pretty. Of course he is, but the shadow and light makes his features even more pronounced. In the quiet, you take the opportunity to catch him off guard; standing on tip-toes to press a quick kiss to his cheek. Jaw tight, he doesn’t react the way you want him to: ever-still, passive. Fuck. You’ve read it wrong: not used to the intensity of this kind of foray. After all: a one night stand seems too reductive, doesn’t quite span the depths and furrows of how your stranger has taken you apart. Finally, you leave the strange man still standing in the pool house. You don’t dare to look, but you can feel him; the weight of his stare at your back.
You can feel his hands, too; the ghost of his touch lingering as you make your way back to the house, mingling with the crowd.
~~~
You don’t tell your friends. You make your back home after the party, bundled into a taxi with a hand tight around your own wrist. It doesn’t feel like his hand on yours - not even close.
“I didn’t actually fuck him yesterday!” Your friend tugs on your sleeve, giggling into your shoulder as she recounts her night. A debrief with the girls turns into hungover breakfast-bleeding-into-lunch at your dorm. They’re bundled onto the sheets, some eating greasy takeout and others nursing bludgeoning headaches.
You’re fine, mostly. A little bit of liquid courage, but your hangover pales in comparison to some - catatonic on your rug and scrolling through their phone in a limbo-like state.
“You didn’t fuck him, but you wanted to.” Someone pipes up, and the conversation devolves into raucous laughter.
You laugh, tucked into yourself. The wonders of a half-dozen sophomores during Halloween - able to grin despite the shit storm that’s been mounting. Campus killers notwithstanding - they make you smile, at least.
“Were you there towards the end?” Someone asks, poking an elbow at your side. “When there was that blackout?”
You nod, simply - not trusting yourself to say more.
“I-I mean…” Her voice is suddenly shaky, thrusting a phone into your unsuspecting hands. “Well… they’re saying it must have happened then, or around that time.”
You squint, confused.
“And it could’ve been anyone, I suppose. There were like, what, a hundred people there? More? ”
“What?”
“A body. They found a body - by the pool house, or something…”
_
_
_
Miguel taglist: @d1lf-loverrr, @afro-hispwriter @ilovemiguelohara @weedxgirlx420 @ladydovahkiin180 @aaliyuh3 @sweetanimebakery @vvitcxen @rosecoloredlenses708 @daikondal @magikmina @impettywhenyouare @alonelygirlsuicidenote @plushyplants @javi0ca @rheeves @starrfruit @nikirikii @marsbars09 @foxglove-grove @mimooyi @crosshairclown @dead-by-light @kynamitedessert @naarra @wanderlustingcastaway @sagejin @cookielovesbook-akie @tangerineloverrr @gobblegluckgluckgod @wolfiepirate @jxxey3 @ebrysteria @elliemm @manchuria @youngghostpeachslime @weasleybuns
@ilovemuppets @vauriz @bonbyon @aimno256 @ancientbeing10 @tvije @venus1224idkpleaze @neteyamsbulletwound @chickenjefferson-blog @maki-z @jasjasthings @aiyaaayei @hyp-oh-critical @tea-earl-grey-thot @sunset-euphoria @moonsio @akiras-key@szaplsdropthealbum@levanneisdumb @naiya-patel17 @Serostapesweat @strawberrymiguel @yumeeesss @errorundyne-exe @spear-bitch @redsoleily @marsissoswag @slezhara @ye4gerzz @adlct515 @nanam1 @indigocookie @cincocosas-blog @starguiders @path0logicalpeoplepleaser@funkyfishy@whoreloll@eugeab@tarjapearce@maddielikesmoths@egotaestical
#miguel o'hara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara#kinktober#miguel o hara x reader#spiderman 2099#kat_writes😼
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scream queen
6.6k / pairing: ghostface!joel miller x f!reader
← masterlist
summary: A stalker outside your window at night forces you to beg for your life in more ways than one. You do what it takes because you're a survivor. And you kind of like the mask on.
A/N: please heed these warnings, as they can be triggering for some individuals. No one is forcing you to read this, and if it sounds unappealing, please keep scrolling. This is far different from what I usually post, but I’m feeling spooky and have rewatched the entire Scream franchise in 72 hours. Indented chat means ghostface’s voice changer is on. Thank you to Emmie @hyzer34 for the FREAKING AMAZING ghostface!joel edits!
warnings/information: MA 18+ (minors DNI), horror, dark ghostface!joel, dubious consent (dubcon via manipulation/guilt/survival), reader has a boyfriend (what a drag) so I guess cheating/infidelity, swearing, taunting/stalker behavior, masked anonymous individual, strip show to save a life, male masturbation, threat of violence/death, begging for life, manhandling, spanking, rough oral (face fucking)(m!receiving), pet names, praise kink, degradation kink, clit smacking (?), life-threatening knifeplay, unprotected sex (p in v), the mask stays on ladies, plot twist ending? very barely edited heads-up
You gasp shakily as his hand carefully caresses your tit, thumb featherlight over your nipple, before he cups and lightly squeezes your juicy flesh.
You swallow down a lump and cower before him. You’re afraid for when he goes lower what he might find, how your slick is dampening your thighs, and your clit is pulsating for him. You need him. It’s sick, gross, disgusting, but you need him.
“Please, Mr.,” you trail off, unsure of what to call him.
“Ghostface.” He aids, and you quickly nod as your lips part. Your worst fear is coming true as his calloused hand and rough fingertips guide themselves further down the soft skin of your stomach and to your panties.
“Please, Mr. Ghostface, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” You can’t help but feel tears welling in your eyes once more.
The masked man sighs and slowly shakes his head in shame.
“I don’t think it’s about what I want to do to you. But what you want me to do to you.”
It was a quiet fall evening. You sat on your boyfriend’s couch, ankles crossed along the extent of the cushions as you leafed through what was available on different streaming services. You wanted something spooky for Halloween but not something that would over-excite your imagination while alone. You’re wearing the same thing he left you in, red panties and an oversized black tee you had snagged from his closet.
You figure your boyfriend should be home soon, so you start a bag of popcorn in the microwave. You sit up on the counter and kick your feet gently against the cabinets as you watch the time tick down, listening to each pop as it slowly rattles up its pace.
Your phone’s ring catches your attention back in the living room. You assume it’s your boyfriend as you hop off the counter and swipe it from the arm of the chair.
Unknown Caller
With a roll of your eyes, your tongue rutting out against your cheek, you deny the call. Probably a wrong number or an asshole troll since Halloween was nearing. You’re about to turn back to the kitchen, hearing the popcorn bag rattling with intensity when your phone goes off again.
Stopped in your tracks, you watch your phone buzz with uncertainty as the screen flashes with the Unknown Caller tag once more.
All of a sudden, the air is tight in your lungs, and your body is riddled with goosebumps. Now you were annoyed. You slid across the call button and pushed the phone to your ear.
“You have the wrong number. Stop fucking calling me.” You jam the blaring red end call button before huffing and returning to your popcorn.
The timer slowly counts down, but each pop from the bag makes you jump. 5… 4… 3… 2… 1…
Your body jolts as you hear something pound against the windows, throwing yourself back against the counter with wide eyes.
“What the fuck!” You gasp as you rotate your head, searching from open window to open window where the banging was coming from. But there was nothing. No one. Your heart rate is slowly increasing, you can feel it jumping in your wrist and your neck.
Your feet quickly skid across the room, locking the house’s back door before running back towards the front entrance, flicking the lock in place. Even if it was nothing, at least you were safe.
Standing still in the entryway, you observed the home to be dead quiet. Your fears were still nesting on your shoulders, that you weren’t alone.
Your phone rings again, causing you to jump from the silence you had grown used to. With a distasteful grimace, you glance around as you walk towards your phone. You accept the call with hesitancy.
“Who is this?” You ask, already maneuvering around the house and shutting all the curtains and blinds in your wake. “Whoever the hell you are, just stop fucking calling me.” You try not to let the panic that’s sitting in your throat be exposed over the phone. Whoever has called you hasn’t spoken yet.
“Hello?” You ask, pausing in the kitchen as you finish your rounds around the first floor.
“Now that is how you answer a phone call.” The voice isn’t familiar, it’s almost… animatronic? It didn’t sound like a person, but the languidness of their voice was all too human. It was low, primal.
Now, you’ve seen these movies before, you weren’t an idiot, and you weren’t going to be one tonight.
“What are you going to ask me? What’s my favorite scary movie?” You taunt, yanking the microwave door open and retrieving the piping hot bag of popcorn from inside, sucking in a harsh breath as your fingertips branded red from the heat.
The voice on the line laughs. It’s almost sinister, not at all comforting. You’re not even sure why you’re entertaining this jackass who’s calling you when all they’ve done so far is giggle at your expense.
“How did you even get this number, you fucking troll?” You probe, frowning as you squeeze your phone between your cheek and shoulder as you pry open the popcorn bag. Of course, it bursts, sending a few pieces scattered around the kitchen. You simply roll your eyes and sigh at the inconvenience.
“Why don’t you be a good girl and clean up the mess you made?”
You squat down to pick up the kernels you dropped, only realizing the extent of what the voice said a moment later. Your eyes widen, and your chest surges with panic. You look around, but all the windows are closed and covered. Was that just a lucky guess, or is someone watching you?
Out of instinct, you reach for the knife block on the kitchen counter and yank out the biggest one. The blade gleams silver in the light, and you realize how exposed you are.
You set down the knife on the counter and quickly move around the house, shutting off the lights and concealing you in a dim darkness.
“What happened to the show? Why did the curtain close?” The low, sinister voice asks, and you whimper quietly in your hand to conceal your fear. “I liked watching you walk around,” he pauses, and all you can hear is your heart pounding, “in those red little panties.”
You hate to admit that this flicks a nasty switch in you, chased and taunted, talked down to by an unknown figure. As much as you’re scared, a small churning begins low in your tummy, and you clench your thighs tighter together.
With a shaky breath, you nibble on your lower lip and slowly move towards the front windows. You slowly peek them open, seeing nothing but your reflection and darkness.
“Can you see me?” You ask nervously, licking at your lower lip.
“Ahhh, there she is.” The voice praises, forcing you to swallow a lump down your throat. “Push those curtains open all the way. Want to see all of you.” You shiver, and the pooling in your panties only becomes more urgent. Someone’s watching you, and they like what they see.
Following the anonymous caller’s instructions, you slowly push open the curtains, your body backlist by a dim light still on in the kitchen. The voice hums in appreciation.
You blame it on your state of panic for not thinking clearly or logically for that manner. This creep wanted you, you could hear the slight desperation clinging to their voice.
“Promise me you won’t fuckin’ harm me, and I-I’ll put on a show for you. Isn’t that what you want? You said you liked my panties.” You breathily point out, opting to put the phone on speakerphone and setting it down on the bench in front of the now curtain-drawn windows.
The voice on the other line hums, pondering your offer. A shiver rolls over your spine as you subconsciously cross your arms in front of your body, scared and nerve-wracked.
“You have a gorgeous body. Let me see it. All of it.” The voice echoes within the quiet home, and you blink back the fear that is resting heavily on your chest. You take in a shaky breath and do as you are told.
Your hands go to the hem of your top, about to lazily toss it off when you are tsk tsk-ed at. You frown and quickly pull the t-shirt back down.
“Not like that!” The voice barks, angry and condescending, making you whimper. The voice pauses and takes a breath. “Slower.”
“Slower..” you whisper back, hearing the voice hum. You still couldn’t see outside, merely darkness and your reflection. You were fucking terrified, but if this was what they wanted, just maybe they’d let you be.
You try again. Your hands slowly start at the sides of your neck, pretty and dainty fingers cascading down to your clavicle. You push one hand into the hair at the back of your neck, lightly ruffling the strands while the other skims lower to more dangerous territory.
The heel of your palm skirts down the front of your shirt until your fingers flitter over the hem of your panties.
It feels stupid what you’re doing, but it makes you feel alive. Your heart has never beat faster. You’ve never turned on a complete stranger, stalker, even. You were in control of the show here.
You’re not exactly sure what to look at in the window, so you admire the reflection. You hum sweetly as you hook your thumbs into the tops of your panties. You loop them around, from front to back, stopping at the sides and lightly pushing down to show glimpses of your hips.
The breathing on the other end shuffles. It almost makes you stop.
“This turn you on?” You ask. “Does this make you have your hand around your cock?” You ask into the phone, smiling lightly as you turn around, lifting up the shirt from covering your ass, giving them a peek-a-boo of you from the back.
The evil voice echoes a laugh. “How did you know?”
Being correct makes you all the more turned on. “How could you not?”
I mean, look at you. You looked gorgeous and confident, silhouetted by the light, awed by a strange man. You can hear them jerking it on the line, murmuring little grunts to try and not get ahead of themselves. The show had just begun.
With your back turned to the window still, you cross your arms over your threshold, retrieve your shirt, and lift it up and off of you. Your hair cascades and dances around your back and shoulders. You felt bare, cold. Part of you wished they would come inside and warm you up.
You peer over your shoulder, hearing the approving grunt on speakerphone. You bit on your thumbnail, looking through the glass with big doe eyes.
“You’re not so innocent, pretty girl. Let me see you.”
Now, with your body to show, you felt a bit more nervous. Your fingertips twitched, and you felt shaky on your legs. You did as the voice asked, turning to face the window. Your arms are crossed, covering your bare breasts meekly.
That’s when you see him. A masked man standing a fair distance away out your window. It quickens your pulse and surges you with adrenaline.
Yet you don’t run. You don’t hide.
Your eyes flitter down to their hand shuffling up and down the extent of their cock. The sight alone, even in the dark, being able to see his impressive length was enough to make you let out a needy whimper.
“I-I don’t know about this,” you whimper, your head falling a bit shamefully. It’s like your head caught up with your foolish actions.
“I’m warning you. Put down your fucking arms.”
You let out a shaky breath and wince at the voice, tears simmering on your waterline. You put yourself in this position, you can’t believe you thought this would work.
You slowly drop your hands to your sides, exposing your breasts. And how embarrassing they were, taut and at peaks. They were flush with color, begging for attention. You interlocked your fingers behind your back and chewed on your bottom lip, shyly looking down at the floor as you clamped your thighs tightly together.
“You’re a real beautiful girl,” the voice grunted, flattering you with attention. “Why don’t you let me in.”
The demand didn’t frighten you like maybe it should have. Frankly, you were turned on to the point where it nearly hurt. You didn’t know who this mystery person was or what their intentions were, but they were getting off to seeing you exposed, scared, and alone.
“Come on,” the voice continues. You hear shuffling, and when you look up, the masked man outside your window is gone. You move closer and peer outside, but it’s quiet. Empty.
“Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”
Breaths fans out hastily from your nostrils, panicked as you looked around slowly from the front entrance to the back.
The doorbell rings, and it makes you jump nonetheless.
You bite down on your bottom lip as you retrieve your phone and slowly cross to the door in just your socks and underwear. Your forearm covers your breasts. Your hand rests on the handle, but you have a hard time willing yourself to open it.
The doorbell rings again, another jump through your bones, but this time, it implores you to swing the door open. And there he was.
He was tall, you had to crane your neck to look up. Your lips part, doe eyes taking in how close he is, stepping back in shock at his appearance. Broad shoulders cloaked by a black hooded robe. It was tattered, lined with rips and tears at the seams that draped from his arms. He also wore large, black, combat boots. The scariest thing of all was the mask. It was white with black eyes and a sloped open black mouth.
Whoever was behind the mask was fit. Their toned body could be discovered even behind the robust black robe. He wore black gloves, too. You don’t realize that as you’re taking him in, the protective arm you had concealing your breasts has since lowered.
“Scary night to be alone, isn’t it?” The voice is still animatronic as the masked man’s head tilts and observes you through the black cloth eye holes.
You nod your head, its pace quick.
“Invite me in. Don’t want you to catch a chill.”
It was disturbing to admit how stupid you felt letting this freakshow stalker into your boyfriend’s home, but in a really weird and taboo way, you found the anonymity of the man attractive. You saw his cock while he stood outside, his large hand stroking over himself at the sight of your body. You figure he must have put the gloves back on once he wanted to come inside.
As if he could read your mind, the masked man stepped inside with his tall stature looming over yours. He slowly plucked off one of his gloves, and you see his flesh.
You watch him carefully as he brings his hand to cup your cheek. You flinch at first, but there is truly nothing to be frightened of. He strokes away a dry, panicked tear from earlier. You can’t help but let out a shaky, wavering whimper. He touches you with such delicacy but hides behind a mask that scares you to your core.
“Just as I thought,” His animatronic voice echoed, his hand dropping to your hair that fell around your face and sweeping it behind your shoulder. “You’re beautiful.”
Your hair was no longer concealing your breasts. You gasp shakily as his hand carefully caresses your tit, thumb featherlight over your nipple, before he cups and lightly squeezes your juicy flesh.
You swallow down a lump and cower before him. You’re afraid for when he goes lower what he might find, how your slick is dampening your thighs, and your clit is pulsating for him. You need him. It’s sick, gross, disgusting, but you need him.
“Please, Mr.,” you trail off, unsure of what to call him.
“Ghostface.” He aids, and you quickly nod as your lips part. Your worst fear is coming true as his calloused hand and rough fingertips guide themselves further down the soft skin of your stomach and to your panties.
“Please, Mr. Ghostface, I’ll do whatever you want me to do.” You can’t help but feel tears welling in your eyes once more.
The masked man sighs and slowly shakes his head in shame.
“I don’t think it’s about what I want to do to you. But what you want me to do to you.” He aggressively cups your sex, feeling his fingers squish with the soaked material of your red panties. You whimper and clutch his arm, biting back whimpery moans that you’re so desperate to let out. You were secretly begging to be touched. Your thighs clamp around the man’s hand.
He deviously chuckles. “This is all for me, sweet girl?”
The man walks you backward until your back is flushed to the wall. You’re still holding his arm in place between your thighs. His fingers add pressure to your bundle of nerves. You lightly grind your hips down into his fingers and let out an embarrassed little moan.
“Y-Yes.” Admitting in defeat made your stomach churn. “But I want to hear your voice.” You whisper, unsure if you can even make demands in your position right now.
Ghostface sighs weakly but plucks something out from under his mask. It looks sort of like a smaller walkie-talkie. It was a voice changer. Your eyes flitter to the eyes of his mask. It was black, empty. Finally, you would hear his true voice, and you prayed it was as sexy as he looked.
“Is this what you wanted to hear, darlin’?”
You lightly gasp at the southern drawl, deep and guttural, musk-filled and leaving you in a tailspin. His voice was hot, causing a pool of your white-hot heat to leak once more into your panties. You finally nod to his question and let your hands skim across the man’s front. He was toned, like you imagined, with hardened plains and a toughened, thick torso under his black cloak.
“You’re comin’ with me.” The voice growls. He leans down and scoops you up, throwing you over his shoulder as you gasp and whimper, feeling him trail you up the stairs. His black combat boots echo loudly through the stairwell. He’s so strong. How he knows the layout of the house scares you and implores you. It’s like he knows you, and you may know him.
He takes you to the master bedroom, the one you share with your boyfriend. Fuck, your boyfriend. A naughty sin to cheat, a naughty sin to like it. It’s hard to picture him right now with the man above you captivating your full attention.
Your breasts jiggle when he throws you back onto the mattress. You scramble further up it, putting a safe distance between you and Ghostface. He grips you at your ankles and pulls you to him in an eager yank. A cry escapes your throat, but it’s just because you’re nervous. You saw how big he was in his hand outside, and now, soon, you’d hope he would be inside of you.
“Please,” you whimper, and Ghostface tilts his head. “I-I..” you trail off and shake your head, embarrassment and shame pumping through your veins.
“You, what? Spit it out, pretty girl.” The voice says as he slowly takes off the hooded robe. He wears black pants and a black t-shirt under it but keeps the mask on. You like the mask on.
“I… I need you, Mr. Ghostface, please,” you whimper. Since he pulled you by your ankles back to the edge of the bed, your centers lightly graze one another. You make it a point to grind your hips eagerly into his, smearing the front of his pants with your slick.
The masked man hums in appreciation. You feel his hardened length concealed by his pants. Whimpers leave your mouth as you sit up and reach forward, unbuttoning the black pants with shaky hands. You unzip him and yank him free of his confines. You nearly freeze at his length, prominent veins lining up and down his cock from his pink tip to his swollen balls.
“You wanna live tonight, baby girl?” The low southern voice asks. You quickly nod, big, desperate eyes wanting to fill his every carnal need.
“Then get on your fucking knees, m’gonna fuck your throat.”
He’s aggressive as he pulls you down onto the floor by your hair. You scream out of instinct, but the heat on your scalp brings needy relief.
You quickly scramble properly to your knees and shuffle your hand over him. One hand isn’t enough, so you add your second. He’s so large and girthy. Fucking your mouth would hurt so good. You hope you’re a slobbering mess for him once he’s done with you.
“Did I say your hands?” You frown and slowly stop, shaking your head. “I said your throat, want your fucking throat, you little slut.”
You whimper and force yourself to put your hands behind your back, your breasts perking out more as you spit over him, watching it glide down his shaft and spill onto your shaking thighs. You lick your lips and wrap your mouth around his sensitive tip.
The masked man seethes through his teeth. He takes off both gloves and knots his fingers into your hair. You’re intimidated by his size, anyone would be, so you try to relax your throat and let him sink further and further in.
Your eyes go wide as he rams himself down your throat impatiently. Your hands instinctively fly up to his thighs, smacking at them and clutching desperately, trying to explain with a lack of words that you’re choking on him. You cry out, but his cock muffles you.
“M’not a patient man, I’m warning you now.”
You clench your teary eyes closed and sniffle, trying your best to swallow around him and breathe through your nose. Your black mascara tears turns him on, and he twitches in your mouth.
With a shaky breath, you try again. You have to start slow at first, but you remember how impatient he is. You slick his cock with your spit, trying to work up his shaft inch by inch.
“Open your mouth up, nice and wide for me.” The sight of his mask makes you twitch, but you do as he says and drop your jaw for him. You even go as far as to stick out your tongue for him.
“Wow,” he admires, as both of his hands wind up into your hair and carve out sections of your hair to create ponytails in his fists. “Such a good girl f’me.”
His praise makes you purr, bringing your hands up to your front as you massage over the squishy flesh of your tits.
You let out a low mewl as he stuffs your mouth again, stuffing your face with his cock. It takes a few moments, but you gradually learn how to accommodate him. He hits the back of your throat repeatedly, and he likes it when you choke around him. You try to see him through your teary eyes, whimpering around his cock.
The masked man’s grip on your hair tightens as he pulls you into his cock and holds you there, balls flushed to your mouth as they smack against your chin. He groans, long and low, holding you down as his cock suffocates your throat. You swallow around him, tasting drops of precum, whimpering around him as you struggle to breathe. Despite it causing you to choke even more around him, you stick out as much of your tongue as you can and teasingly lick at his balls.
He sucks in harshly through his teeth and moans, gripping the ponytails even tighter, making your scalp sear in pain. But it was all worth it because he was so goddamn big in your throat. You hoped he would split your pussy.
With a harsh yank, the masked man rips you from his cock. You instantly cough and gag, trying to swallow around the excessive puddles of saliva grouping in the back of your throat and now dripping out of your mouth. You looked like a disgusting mess.
You plant your hands on the floor and drop your head, looking like a dog as you shakily regain your breathing. You slowly look up, seeing his hardened cock slap up against his toned stomach, dripping with your slobber.
You meekly wipe your mouth with the back of your hand and stand up, your legs shaking beneath you. With as much courage as you can muster, you reach for Ghostface’s hand and slowly pull it to your center as you sit on the edge of the bed.
“Please,” you beg in a meek whisper, swallowing the messy amount of existing saliva and precum down your throat as you blink through black, mucky, mascara tears. Your eyes flutter as his long, meaty fingers slowly circle around your clit through your panties. It’s jaw-dropping, stomach-fluttering madness. It’s like he knows you like the back of your hand. “Please, fuck me.” You whisper desperately, pulling him slowly towards the direction of the bed. Towards you.
You don’t feel any more safe with him, but you like the excitement of feeling on the fence. Would he be rough or gentle with you? Call you his sweet girl or his little slut? The edging of unsureness and torrid manipulation has forced white hot heat to pool into your core, and you sure as hell spoiled these red panties enough.
The masked man drops his gaze to your mound. His hands reach up to the sides of your hips.
It’s slow and desperate at first, he almost fools you. Ghostface weakly chuckles before he begins to rip the measly material from your lower half. You yelp out as it causes your body to get tugged around. Your panties are now a mess of threads on the floor. You whimper desperately, clamping your thighs closed on instinct despite wanting the opposite.
Ghostface grabs your ankles and forcibly parts your legs, turning his head slowly as he watches your glistening core.
“Y-You could have a taste, y’know, if you take off the mask.” You offer, your heart pounding in your chest. You loosely hook your leg around his hip and pull him closer. Ghostface plants his hands on either side of your head, hovering over you as his heavy breath puffs through the mask.
Ghostface pulls one hand away to his side and shucks something off his belt. You gasp and flinch your eyes closed as a large knife glimmers in the moon’s light.
“You think I’m going to show you my face, you stupid bitch? Huh?” He taunts you, wielding the knife closer and closer to your throat as you cry out, but clamp your legs tighter around his waist and pull your centers together. You can feel his fat cock sliding up and down your exposed folds. You’re so needy, and it’s repulsive.
He sickeningly laughs, jutting the tip of his knife against the underside of your chin. It hurts, it stings, and you hope it leaves a mark from him so you can look at it later when you replay this night in your mind. You hope he spares you so you can think endlessly about him.
“I-I want you to keep the mask on.” You purr nervously, your hand drifting down your stomach towards your exposed mound.
Ghostface chuckles, low and demonic. “You want me to fuck you with the mask on?” He asks slowly, trilled with curiosity.
It fills you with a pit of guilt and shame in your stomach. But you slowly nod. You were willing to risk everything, your boyfriend, your safety, your life, just to ensure this man filled you to the brim like you know he could.
“Please do. Fuck me, Mr. Ghostface.” You beg. Though you can’t see, you imagine him smirking behind his mask, looking at you with a sense of intrigue and disgust. How could you be so twisted?
“My pleasure.” He says goadingly, ripping the hold you had on the sheets and yanking you closer to the edge of the bed. You cry out as he forcibly spreads your legs with his body and slaps his cock against your aching center. You’re so sensitive from waiting, you needed to have him this very second.
A smirk twitched on your lips, but you forced yourself to bite it down, shakily moaning as Ghostface tucks away his knife and wraps his large hand around his cock, lining up his tip to your dripping center. You flinch every time he purposely flicks your anxious bundle of nerves.
“Fuck,” you whisper, your hand clutching his bicep greedily. “Please, need to feel you inside of me.” You whimper.
Ghostface reaches up and smears his hand down your face, your cheeks smudged with your mucky tears as you whine like a little brat. For your insolence, he strikes you across the face before nastily grabbing you by your cheeks and forcing you to look at him.
“Bein’ a real fuckin’ brat for a stranger’s dick, such a fucking hungry cock slut, aren’t you?” He degraded you to your very core, soiling his cock in your gushing slick. You were pretty sure that if he even just breathed over your mound, you would come.
Ghostface enjoys your desperate whimpers for his dick. He’s more than happy to deliver. He angles his tip to your entrance and notches himself inside. Your gasp surges his adrenaline as he parts you egregiously.
You hook your hands on the underside of your legs, keeping yourself wide and spread for the masked man above you. Inch by inch, you feel your head lose focus, your mind floating as you see stars that consume your vision.
The moans you give him are heavenly, he thinks he’s never heard a more beautiful thing. He’s a sadist watching you take his cock, knowing it hurts, knowing you’re forcing yourself open for him, knowing how much you’re drunk off it. He just can’t help himself to wait.
Air is knocked from your lungs when Ghostface decides he’s, again, not a patient man. He fucks the last few inches into you and hard, pushing you to your limits and filling you to the brim.
Your head is thrown back as you scream in shock, never having been fucked by someone who feels so good. You sob as your walls flutter around him, attempting to accommodate the size in such a short amount of time.
“Yes! Jesus Christ- Fuck!” You moan out, to which Ghostface chuckles lowly.
“Take me so well,” he’s trying to breathe through being squeezed so tightly by your walls, even he finds it difficult. “Such a pretty girl, just needs to be fucked to keep her- shit - her goddamn mouth shut.” The man growls behind the mask and starts to fuck you at an earth-shattering pace.
You cry out in shock, gripping Ghostface at his biceps and whimpering at how strong he is. He pulls himself nearly all the way out of you before he flushes his hips right back to you, slapping your ass cheeks with his clothed thighs. That’s when he really begins to rail you.
You see stars, still adjusting to his size, your slick pooling around him with excitement. You hazily smile, fucked dumb by a stranger, filled to the brim as you stare at the ceiling. Your visions jumps up and down as Ghostface pounds you senselessly. The bedframe rattles and the legs skirt against the hardwood floors.
Impatient whines from you fill the room as he pulls himself from your pussy, moaning out for him needily. He manhandles you, grabbing your hips forcefully and flipping you over onto your stomach.
“Ass up, let’s go.” He commands.
You were still in a funk, head wiped empty of any palpable information. You whimpered as you tried to move but at the pace of a snail.
His impatient hands grip you tightly at your hips, forcing a broken yelp from your throat as he pulls you up to bend over, shoving your face into the mattress and angling your ass up for him to use.
“Yes, please use me,” you whimper desperately, reaching your hands back and parting your ass cheeks for him. “Finish inside me, use me as your cum dumpster.” Where was this language coming from?! This wasn’t you, you didn’t sound or look like you. He was turning you into someone new, someone satisfied by his anonymity. You’d never know who was fucking you senseless, and it might drive you mad until you find out, if you ever will, that is.
Your thoughts are squashed from your mind as a harsh slap followed by a greedy grip is splayed across your ass. A yelp is pulled from your throat, instincts telling you to flinch away and protect yourself.
“Ah-ah,” the man teases, his angry fingers creating bruises on your hips as he pulls you back to the edge of the bed to be his little sex servant. “Good girls take what they are given, so take it,” Ghostface says as he smacks your other cheek, reddening them both, jiggling the flesh much to his appeal.
His large palms seared his prints into your ass, gripping your ass and pulling you to his cock. He lines himself up, and you take him again.
You don’t understand unless it’s happening to you, how it feels like you’re floating in space, fucked numb but also feeling like you’re on pins and needles. It’s indescribable to enjoy being fucked by a stranger, but it’s happening, and it’s happening to you.
He penetrates you, parting your walls, making himself a home inside you. You squeeze around him, and he moans. It satisfies you so intensely.
“Beg for me,” he mutters through the mask, grunting with each thrust. He must be close.
“P-Please, keep fucking me so good, please Mr. Ghostface-”
“No!” He strikes your pretty ass again, hard, and your warm flesh singes with heat. You whimper, imagining how red, angry, and large his handprint looks stamped on your ass.
“Want you to beg... for your life.” His voice had turned as cold as stone, ridged with a sadist tone that left goosebumps bubbling on the surface of your skin. A scared feeling sunk into the pit of your stomach. You swallowed a lump down your throat and shyly peeked around your shoulder to take him in.
“P-Please… I want to live,” you whimper, your hands fisting the sheets as Ghostface slowly picks back up the paces of his thrusts. He’s turned on by this.
“Oh my- please, I know you d-don’t know me, but I’m good, l-look how good I’m being for you,” you begin to cry as he fucks you harder, your ass clapping aggressively against his thighs and the grip he has on your hips intensifies.
He loves fucking you until you cry. Such a sadist.
Ghostface gives a few last gut-twisting thrusts, and his tip kisses your cervix repeatedly. He’s so large you can feel him in your tummy. His hand reaches around your hip, and the other stays gripping your ass while he spanks your clit lightly with his fingers.
“Fuck!” You cry out, beginning to throw your ass back into him, creating your own unique rhythm together. You’re so sensitive, and you’re coming before you can even fully register it.
“Mr. Ghostface, please,” you whimper. “I-I’m coming so fu-ucking hard,” you mewl for him, your thighs twitching along with your walls that squeeze around him, begging to milk him for his seed.
Ghostface’s thick and angry cock twitches inside of you, desperate to fill your needy hole with his sperm. He grunts and pants into the mask, filling his own body with a heat that makes him sweat. He pounds himself into you until you’re flattened against the mattress, begging for release, begging to live.
There’s something about your obedience that he gives into, his cock twitching deep inside the warm comfort of your walls and between your beautiful ass cheeks. He pulls out and pants, handling his cock as he paints your ass white.
The warm droplets of come make you twitch, but it’s so hot to be painted white by the man who praised you and degraded you all night long.
You’re a heap of nothing strewn about the mattress. You can’t seem to calm your shaky breath. You lay there limp, unable to move, unable to think. All you can think about is the man behind the mask and how irate and perverted he is. And how much you fell into his trap.
Shame twisted your guts enough, forcing you to get up and turn around and face your stalker. But when you turned back, he was gone. How long were you not paying attention?
You quickly retrieved your robe, forcing yourself to walk despite your legs feeling like liquid gelatin. Checking room to room, you survey your boyfriend's home and are left empty-handed. It’s like he was never here.
From the top of the stairs, you hear the door open and close.
“Honey?” Your heart sinks, hearing your boyfriend kick off his shoes on the mat.
Rushing down the stairs, you collapse into his arms and cry out of guilt. You tell him everything. Everything besides the show in front of the windows and getting fucked by Ghostface in his own bed. There’s more to leave out than to leave in, but the short story is that you were taunted over the phone by a masked man, scared to death, and begged for your life.
His first reaction was to call the police, and despite how much you hesitated, you let him. Two nice offers responded to the call. They sat you two down separately and asked you what had happened. You were wrapped in a blanket and your robe, shaking in disappointment.
It was scary, lying to the cops, withholding all of the truth. Making sure not to overshare any details. You also didn’t want to give away that you liked it. To the bone, you liked it.
You were hunted like prey tonight, used, fucked hard until you couldn’t breathe. Left in the dark, feeling a little crazy if it even happened in the first place. But you could feel him still inside of you, stretched and still leaking between your thighs. You tugged your robe tighter, smiling weakly at the officer as he closed his notebook.
“We’ll figure out what we can ma’am. For now, keep everything locked up. I wouldn’t leave the house alone.” You wipe away the mucky mascara on your cheeks and sigh, nodding as you walk with the officer to the door.
His badge read J. Miller. He was older, stippled with grey hair within his dark curly locks. He had an aquiline nose and plumish-rose lips. His broad chest strikes something somewhat familiar to you. He glances behind you at the officer who is still asking your boyfriend a few questions.
Officer Miller sighed, looking over the door frame curiously.
“Said you locked the doors?”
You hesitate but nod compliantly.
His pointer finger shapes over the lock, then the entry metal hinge. “No forced entry.” He notes, looking at you curiously.
You evade his eye contact and conceal yourself tighter in your blanket and robe. “I.. I don’t know how he got in.” Your eyes find the floor, planting themselves there as you stare at Officer Miller’s familiar black police boots.
He hums curiously, looking over you slowly.
“You’re tellin’ me everythin’ that happen to you tonight?”
Your doe eyes go wide, your head snapping up to Officer Miller’s. “I-I promise, please, Officer Miller-”
He holds up a hand to cut you off, and you weakly stand there with your lips parted. Then he starts to nod and slowly smile. “That’s a good girl.”
It strikes you like a bolt of lightning, fear and curiosity consume you. You hear footsteps behind you, the other officer, and your boyfriend, who collects his arm around your shoulders.
Officer Miller watches you with a glint of intrigue but nothing more. His eyes shift to your boyfriend’s arm protectively wrapped around you. It makes him twitch up a stomach-twisting smile before he turns to his fellow officer.
“Got everything you need?” Officer Miller asks, tucking his thumbs into the front of his belt while he observes the other officer’s notepad. The officer nods and places his small notebook and pen in his breast pocket.
“Got everything we need. You two stay safe.”
The other officer ducks out first and nods curtly, Officer J. Miller stands there a moment longer.
“Happy Halloween.” He said with a sickening smile. “Be sure to lock the door behind me.”
You gulp as you look over Officer Miller meekly before he disappears outside and into the night. Where he belonged.
---
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quick study
miguel o'hara x obsessed lab tech!reader
kinktober countdown, day one (spanking).
synopsis: Miguel wanted you to move on because he was weak. Because he'd always been aware he was gonna give in to you eventually, always knew you’d wear him down and he'd take that sweet ass of yours for a ride.
wc: 3.3k
cw: stalker!reader, but like...in a cute way, spanking, (mentions of) drunk sex, oral (male receiving), handjobs, no gendered pronouns, afab!reader, riding, praying, miguel prioritizing getting his nut over his personal safety, reader has a tattoo, my piss poor spanish (used sparingly, i swear, no use of y/n ever.
author's note: i do headcanon miguel as vaguely catholic, and as an ass man, argue with the wall. mdni. special thanks to kitten, kee and ketsl for being my soundboards and spanish tutors.
Miguel’s head is pounding, like he took a brick to the back of the head, twice.
A fucking heavy brick.
His mouth is dry, his tongue sticking to the roof of his mouth, the sandpaper sensation making him desperate for water. Light pierces through the parted section of his blackout curtains, forcing the geneticist to screw his eyes shut tight. He turns, ready to slide back into the easy unconsciousness of sleep, when a low moan startles him. Immediately, his entire body tenses, and he shoots an arm out to take hold of the intruder.
For his troubles, he ends up with a handful of soft, warm skin and an even more drawn out sound of pleasure. It's enough motivation for Miguel to fully open his eyes and take in his surroundings. His wide, scarred hand covers an exposed shoulder, long, powerful fingers pressed to your shoulder blade. He knows that shoulder. Fuck. He knows that fucking tattoo. The spindly, intricate black ink design decorates your back, disappearing under his black blanket. His heart races with panic, thudding in his chest, he doesn't remember a fucking thing, certainly not taking you home to his place after a lab wide staff social with an open bar. Definitely not stripping to his fucking birthday suit and watching you do the same.
Wait. Okay. Maybe you’re not naked, maybe you’re just topless.
Miguel shoots a quick prayer to Guadeloupe, lifting and kissing the gold cross that hangs around his neck, before he raises the blanket covering your lower body, praying to see any kind of underwear covering you.
No goddamn dice.
Miguel does not see underwear. Instead, Miguel gets an eyeful of the ass he's been fantasizing about for months. It's perfect, just like he thought it'd be. Soft, perfect and begging to be bitten, spanked, groped. Your tattoo stops right at your tailbone, the pointy arrowhead-esque end tapering off between the twin dimples bracketing your lower back.
You fucked. There's no way you didn't. There's no way, drunk or sober (and you had both been ridiculously hammered) he would get you to strip down and not sink his teeth into every inch of your body he could get his hands on. He removes his hand from your shoulder, and nearly screams when he unveils a faint half circle decorating the skin where your shoulder becomes your neck. He suspects there's a lot more where those came from.
You begin to stir, probably jarred from sleep by the sound of Miguel lamenting his own birth. You open your eyes slowly, sleep in the corners of your eyes, squint near identical to Miguel's. You come to a lot slower than Miguel, casting confused glances around the room before your bleary gaze settles on Miguel's face. Your confusion is palpable, like you’re trying to understand where the fuck you are, and why the fuck Miguel is there too. He can almost see when you remember the night before, the social, the drinks, the way you giggled and sighed, drifted after Miguel from room to room in the ritzy hotel bar, where the party had been thrown.
"Do not say a word." He growls, reaching over the side of his bed to search for a pair of boxers. "This didn't fucking happen. You're gonna wipe this shit from your mind, understand me? Whatever I did, whatever we did? Never happened." He spits. Irritation at his lack of self control heats up his skin, making him want to claw at his face. He can't find his underwear, his fingers only coming across a tiny g-string that you must've shirked. Or maybe Miguel had torn it off you? Or- fuck, he didn't know. He didn't know anything.
And wasn’t that a trip.
All that fucking time holding himself back, restraining himself, all for me to blow it over fancy whiskey sours? Nice fucking going, O’Hara.
"I…I guess you aren't very…happy about it huh?" When you do speak, directly against his order, the pain and embarrassment in your voice are glaringly evident, and they cut through Miguel's wallowing almost immediately. He lifts his face from his hands, and claps both of them onto your shoulders, shaking you a bit, watching your head bobble from side to side while you clutch his blanket to your body, attempting and failing to hide your chest from view.
"Look…I don't fucking remember it." He hisses through his teeth. Your mouth parts in surprise, eyes wide as petri dishes, and he removes his hands like he's been scalded, his palms tingling from the contact. He balls his hands together, till his knuckles crack with the strain, trying to suppress both the urge to touch you again and the urge to hit something.
It isn't fair.
Miguel is not fucking stupid. Yes, you are crazy, and a stalker and probably more than a little dangerous. It was painfully, excruciatingly obvious you were obsessed with him, even before you’d formally met.
Alchemax’s lab technicians rarely have reason to linger, they pick up samples, they drop off samples, occasionally they’ll ask for input on a report or two. But you? You always seemed to just be…around. Loitering on his floor long enough to wave a hello, to ask him if he wanted a coffee or a bagel, to show off your new “lab shoes”. Which, sure, isn’t all that odd on its own, definitely not cause for alarm, maybe you were just friendly, or bored. No, what tipped Miguel off was how you acted when you thought he couldn’t see you; the long stares, the bit lips, the quiet little laughs to yourself, like you were picturing things. Then, he’d caught you stealing his lab coat, snatching it from his locker and pressing the stark, white fabric to your face before shoving it into your bag and scurrying back to your lair home. The security camera that recorded you couldn’t lie.
And, call him an idiot, he hadn’t reported you. And you’d stepped it up. Started speaking to him directly, cornering him when he was alone, “running into him” after work hours, before work hours, on weekends. Soon, he was seeing you everywhere, dodging your attempts at “quality time”, praying to God you’d realize he’s fucking boring and move on to some other unfortunate victim.
Not because he was afraid. He balances lab hours with bench pressing, and you…definitely don’t. He watched you struggle with jostling snacks out of the faulty vending machine on the 13th floor.
Miguel wanted you to move on because he was weak. Because he'd always been aware he was gonna give in to you eventually, always knew you’d wear him down and he'd take that sweet ass of yours for a ride. Just once, then he'd let you down easy, so you didn't get clingy or assign more meaning to the hookup than there was. He also knew that crazy people gave the best fucking head, the kind of shit that'd make a grown man weep, the kind of head Miguel would consider doing time for.
And he was too fucking drunk to remember it happening.
"Oh! That's okay!" You chirp, dejection quickly forgotten in the wake of Miguel's confession. You drop the blanket along with all modesty, exposing the curve of your tits and the soft jut of your stomach. Every inch of your skin looks velvety to the touch, tailor made to make Miguel salivate. You push back the cover, flipping nimbly onto your hands and knees. Slowly, you crawl towards Miguel, prowling towards him with single minded focus. The temperature of the room skyrockets, and the geneticist's breath stutters at the sight of your breasts sandwiched between your arms, your hips and thighs swaying and shifting while you advance. Your eyes almost glow in the lowlight of his bedroom, catching the sun filtering in and casting them in golden light. Your hair falls forward, sticking to the spit slick surface of your bottom lip. You look like temptation sent straight from hell, a succubus created by the devil with the sole purpose to drag Miguel to the fiery depths by his cock.
"I remember everything." Your hand falls heavy on his thigh, and he can't help the interested thump in his groin. Your nails scratch his skin, the sensation so feather light, he worries he imagined it.
"Uh…" he stumbles for words, eyes dropping to the hand brushing his inner thigh. He needs to shut this down. Has to shut this down. Sex with you was supposed to be a one time thing, even if his recollection of that one time was lost in the haze of intoxication.
"And I can remind you. I can be so good at reminding you." You’re whispering, but it doesn't fucking matter. Every word spilling from your bee stung lips thud through his mind like the heavy bass at a nightclub, knocking insistently at his ear drum for access to his brain. He begins to pray for strength in his mind.
"I don't think that's-" You sink your teeth into your bottom lip, leering, hungry eyes following his happy trail before they flick back up to meet his eye playfully.
Dios te salve, María; llena eres de gracia, el Señor es contigo.
"You liked it so much. Said you never fucked anyone without a condom before. Said it felt perfect. Said you couldn't go back."
Yeah, that fucking sounded like him.
Bendita tú eres entre todas las mujeres. Y bendito es el fruto de tu vientre: Jesús.
"Look-"
You mouth a kiss at his shoulder, a sweet little gesture that turns into you dragging your tongue over the large vein lining the side of his neck. You puff a hot breath against his skin, crowding close enough for you to crush your chest against his, the hard tips of your nipples making themselves evident.
¿Cómo coño va el resto de la oración?
He's lost in the drugging spiral of your eyes, choking on his own tongue when you wrap a firm hand around his cock, squeezing and stroking with graceful finesse. His hips helplessly jerk to follow the movement, chasing the mindless pleasure you provide. He lets his head fall back, Adam's apple bobbing with each dry, laboured swallow.
"Fuck." He whimpers, fucking whimpers, trying in vain to resist, but when you lowers your mouth and wrap your lips around the head of his cock, flicking your tongue against the crown, he lets go of it all.
And you, you don't miss a step, cementing your hand around the hilt and forcing the entirety of his dick down your throat in one go. Then instead of bobbing up and down like a goddamn normal person, You swallow. Again. And again. And again. Milking Miguel for all he's worth, never granting him a second of solace. Your tongue sneaks out, easing the path of his cock, dragging the flexing pink muscle against the spot where his shaft meets his balls. All the while humming and giggling as best you can manage around his length, sending vibrations through his legs to the soles of his feet and back again.
Crazy person. Crazy head. He fucking knew it.
He grits his teeth so hard he's worried they'll shatter, knotting his hand in your hair and grinding your face against his pelvis, fucking your face like it was the last thing he'd ever do.
And with the way you were sucking him off, it just might be.
"Fuck!" He coughs, banging his free hand against his headboard, "I'm gonna-" he tapers off into a drawn out groan, planting his feet in preparation. Unfortunately, You pick that exact moment to pull off, shocking Miguel with cool air on his spit soaked dick. His cock twitches angrily, the tip near purple with need.
"W-whuh?" He stammers, his mind racing to keep up with the lightning fast developments between the two of you.
“You can’t come yet! That’s not how it happened.” You sing-song, like you’re teasing him, like this was a cute little game you and him were playing. You swing your leg over his hip so you can straddle him. The light from his window illuminates your side, lighting up your silhouette with warm orange sunbeams. “No, no, no.” Your laugh is the tinkling of glass wind chimes in the entryway of a haunted house. “You came right here.” You pat your abdomen, and Miguel has to bite on his knuckle when he catches your meaning. His eyes drift lower and the scientist is blown away by how visibly wet you are. He tries to reach out, to touch, to feel, but You grab his wrists before he can make contact.
“We gotta get you to remember, Miguel! I’ll show you.” You push his hands back, until both of his arms are bent and his head is resting on his joined hands.
“You stay just like that,” you murmur, your eyes liquid pools of molten colour, hooded with desire. “I’ll take care of everything.” It’s all Miguel can do to nod like a fucking idiot when you take hold of his cock again, giving it two or three strokes before you notches his head against the already clenching entrance of your cunt. You begin your descent, shuddering with pleasure and keening loudly, letting air whiz through your teeth when Miguel is only half inside.
“Ah…wanted this so bad. And now I get it again. Couldn’t think of anything else.” You rock your hips, allowing another inch of Miguel to sink inside your pussy. You continue to speak, tone delirious and euphoric, “So deep already!” You press a finger to your stomach, sinking onto his erection and following his place inside you with the tip of a digit. You both follow his path with your eyes, until he’s fully seated inside. He watches as your eyes roll back into your empty little head, watches you palm your chest and swivel your hips, rubbing your clit against Miguel’s pelvis in time with your teasing hand. From the new vantage point Miguel can see the imprints of his own teeth decorating your legs, a trail of his hunger from the night before.
You rise and fall on him, dropping the weight of your mass onto his hips, gripping his shaft like a vice. Every resounding clap throws Miguel’s mind into disarray.
He wishes his hands were on your hips.
He likes keeping his hands behind his head.
He wishes he could watch your ass shake and roll against him.
He loves watching your tits bounce with every thrust.
He couldn’t decide what would be better, couldn’t decide how he wanted the image of you riding his cock permanently imprinted in his mind.
Guess he’d just have to do this again.
Bummer.
“You know,” you pant, fucking up and down on him, never losing your rhythm, even as you feverishly speak to him. You brace your hands on his shins, forcing your own back to arch, showing off your chest even further. “I think I could get addicted to this.” Your voice is breathy and high, and you laugh out loud, giggling non-stop, expression caught between delight and disbelief. “I-I can’t give this up. I can’t forget, Miguel. I won’t.”
Madre de Dios, you are a psycho.
You circle your hips again, clenching down on him before letting yourself fall forward, squishing your breasts against him, and grabbing at his face, dipping your tongue between his lips until he kisses you back, tangles his tongue with yours. Miguel’s head spins, your scent, the slide of your damp skin on his, your greedy little cunt throbbing around him, all reduce him to rubble. He bites into your shoulder again, in nearly the exact same spot he had the night prior. Miguel wrenches his hands from their relaxed position, bringing both palms down on your ass, hard. You shriek out loud, tongue lolling out of your mouth, the impact shoving you brutally over the edge.
His dick aches for the same release, jolting and twitching as he takes control, planting his feet again and fucking up into your dripping entrance. He pushes your body up, so he can see all of you. Stare with incredulous, hardcoded lust at your swaying form. Miguel spanks you again and again, on your tits, your ass, your thighs, smacks what he can reach of your belly and grunts when you beg for more, raining down blows on every available inch of skin.
“Miguel!” You cry out, pussy fluttering around him. You try to grab at him, try to maintain your hold, wrapping your hand around the cross on his neck. Later, he’ll be grateful for the necklace’s strong chain, otherwise the childhood gift would’ve been long gone. Miguel wrenches your hand off it, letting you lace your trembling fingers with his.
Even being fucked like a ragdoll doesn’t stop you from being strange. You eyeball your joined hands, a manic, out of control grin smeared like paint over your face. “O-our hands are k-kissing!” You huff out, bringing your joined palms to your lips and sucking on two of Miguel’s fingers, fucking your mouth with them like you did with his cock.
Strange as hell, but fuck if you didn’t make him moan like a bitch.
Your pussy clings to him, refusing to let him go, every drag in and out tears at the already frayed fabric of Miguel’s control.
“I’m gonna-” he repeats, and you cut him off again, though this time, mercifully, you don’t pull away.
“Inside! Come inside” You demand, words slurred around his fingers. You crash down on him even harder, forcing him so deep he swears the tip of his cock breaches your cervix, and by the way you, his little stalker, bucks and screams when he comes inside you, he’d say it's more than a little likely. Heavy gluts of his seed fill you quickly, painting your insides white in waves.
“Ooooh.” You collapse forward, your cheek pressed to his chest, ear directly above his heart. Your shoulders jostle and shake in the aftermath, body shivering with the last remnants of your orgasms. Miguel feels appropriately drained, as though you’d been drinking directly from his life source, draining his vitality through his dick. Your fingers are still intertwined, and Miguel can’t bring himself to break the connection, staring at the union and squeezing your soft hand in his own brutish palm.
“You are…fucking persistant.” He mutters, shifting you further up his body but not completely pulling out, allowing for your head to find rest in between his neck and shoulder.
“Mmm.” you murmur, beyond words. “Sorry.” your voice is raspy, well used, and Miguel can’t help the little surge of pride he feels, remembering your screams.
He snorts and reaches down to grope at your ass and thigh. “You aren’t sorry.”
“Well…no. But!” You lift your face to stare at him, “I promise I’ll make it worth your while. You can come in me as many times as you want. You can leave me chained to your bed. Oh! Or you could use my-”
“I get it!” Miguel covers your mouth with his hand, exhaustion settling deep in his bones despite waking from sleep not long ago. “Fuck. Just…shut up for now, okay? Can you do that?” He feels your plush lips open against his palm.
“Aht!” He cuts you off before you can disobey, and relaxes in full when you elect to nod, closing your mouth and settling against him again.
“Good. Let’s just be quiet, hm?”
You linger in silence for a while, you, breathing in the scent of Miguel’s skin and Miguel, brushing his fingertips against your spine.
It’s serene, it’s sweet, he can almost pretend you’re normal.
“I give a really great tit job too.”
Almost.
find the rest of the masterlist here.
whew, squeezed it in under the wire. i promise tomorrow's will come earlier.
support city girls with daddy issues and catholic guilt, reblog what you like.
#kechiwrites#kinktober 2023#miguel o'hara x reader#miguel o'hara#atsv miguel#miguel spiderverse#miguel x reader#miguel o'hara x you#miguel o'hara smut#miguel o'hara x y/n#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara fanfiction#miguel x you#miguel ohara#miguel o'hara x black reader#black reader
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Clash of Champions | LH44 , MV1
Act 2 . Part 2 : For the World to See
Ships : Lewis Hamilton x Engineer! Reader , Max Verstappen x Engineer! Reader
Genre : Drama , Angst , Romance
Warning : Morally Grey Characters , Swearing
A/N : Buckle up , folks! This one’s smth else.
Summary : The rivalry between the titans of Formula 1 go off track and only one will reign victorious.
< Previous Next >
Act 2. ─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
All are fair in love and war. An overused idiom, but one that you believed was necessary for the actions you were about to do. You knew that it was wrong to use Max to get back on Lewis. But you were not perfect, far from it.
Not when your vision had clouded red as you looked at the picture that flashed on your phone’s screen. It was a photo of Lewis kissing another girl in a bar. It hasn’t been a month since your split with Lewis and he had the fucking audacity to pull this shit.
What’s worse is that over in that same month, Lewis had been trying to reach out and kept saying that he was sorry and that he’d change. Gifts and flowers kept appearing and delivered to your new apartment with written notes from Lewis. For some time, you considered taking the British driver back.
You even became guilty for the fact that your relationship with Max was developing into something more.
Now, you were glad that you started talking to the Dutch Red Bull Driver. It didn’t hurt that you found Max extremely attractive and desirable.
You couldn’t help it , the Dutch driver was aggressive and a menace on track, but when the helmet went off — he was the sweetest and the most caring partner a girl could ask for. The Max you’ve gotten to know, even for a short period was the perfect distraction.
It all started after you left your apartment with Lewis you went straight to Milton Keynes to meet with Christian Horner , where you bumped into Max.
He was doing a routine check-up, just to ensure that he was perfectly ok after the crash at Silverstone.
You felt partly at fault for his crash and guilt had driven you to apologize even if it wasn’t your actual doing. Max had laughed it off and jokingly said that he’d forgive you if you went out for coffee with him. And to your surprise, you found yourself agreeing.
The coffee went great, and your conversation with Max was easy. His humor was dry, yet you find yourself laughing and enjoying your time with the Dutch Driver.
“I watched Christian Horner, waiting for you to come out of Mercedes and act like he didn’t expect you when you bumped into him” Max exaggerated.
“Mhmm… your team principal would turn stalker mode just to tell me that I did a good job “ You laughed as you rolled your eyes at the handsome driver.
“I swear, Y/N. Checo and I were passing by and Christian was crouched down behind a bush! “
Max bluffed. Making you double over laughing.
Your coffee with Max then turned to lunch and lunch turned into dinner. Then that turned into traveling to Monaco in his private jet to attend the party for the drivers and team principals.
The speed of the development of your relationship with Max was starting to scare you. You and Lewis just broke up , you didn’t want to take advantage of Max’s affection for you.
You were staring at your reflection in the mirror. Your makeup was exquisite and your hair was perfectly done. The dress that Max bought for you fits like a glove. You looked perfect. But you couldn’t help but feel the pit in your stomach grow.
You knew that you would be facing Lewis and Toto at some point tonight and honestly you weren’t sure that you were ready just yet.
But You didn’t want them to see you as weak and helpless . If they could move on easily then you’ll play along. You’ll beat them at their own game.
With a final swipe of lipstick. You were ready
“Max?” You called out to the room
“Am in the living room” Max replied
You walked out of the bathroom and headed your way towards Max. Your Louboutin heels clicked with every step on the marble floor.
As you neared the Dutch Driver. His head turns towards you and his eyes widen as they travel your form, repeatedly.
Max made his way towards you. You were both silent. Max took your hand and he brought it to his lips, kissing the inside of your wrist — your eye contact never breaking.
“Gorgeous, you look absolutely beautiful” Max uttered spinning you slowly.
“Thank you. You look handsome Max” You said a bit breathless. Handsome was an understatement, Max looked like a Greek god. Not many times do people see him outside RedBull uniforms, but when they do, people gawk at the driver — you were no exception.
“I love you in black, have I told you that?” You said as you slid your hands up Max’s chest feeling every muscle on your path.
“Mhm, you have. Have you noticed that I’ve been wearing just that recently?” Max countered as he pulled you closer by the waist.
“ I have, and I never did thank you. And I’m sure that your fans thank you too.” You winked at the Red Bull driver, making him chuckle and roll his eyes
“The thirst traps are everywhere, don’t remind me” At that you couldn’t help but laugh as you had sent him some links.
“ Toughen up, you’ll be getting more when you’re World Champion”
“When, not If? you’re that confident in me?” Max grip strengthened without him noticing. You knew that he had issues believing in himself. And you knew who was the reason for that.
“Yes, When. Your potential is unlike any other Max! I believe that you will be breaking records and earning championships left and right one day. “ You truly believed what you said. You felt Max kiss your temple as he whispered “Thank you, Y/N.”
Max was never the speaking kind when it came to emotions. So his opening up even a little was an enormous step.
What did that mean for your blurry relationship? You didn’t know. But it was a step somewhere for sure.
“Now come on! We’re already late.” You tugged on Max’s hand towards the door of his suite.
***
Arriving at the venue, your nerves had finally set in and you were starting to feel a little anxious.
“Hey, are you alright? We can ditch the party if you don’t feel like it” Max whispered to you concerned.
You have never been used to being in fancy balls all glammed up, even in your time with Mercedes and Lewis being your boyfriend. Being that your relationship was kept a secret, you have never joined Lewis to the Galas and Balls.
But now, Max Verstappen was guiding you towards the entrance with pride — not shying away from the cameras and the people who greeted us. He was proud to show you off.
“No, no. Just a bit apprehensive seeing Toto, that’s all” you said back
“Oh! Are you nervous that when you see him you’ll shred him to pieces? Got it” Max tried to joke. You couldn’t help but laugh as you affectionately hit his chest lightly.
“Exactly that! You do get me, Max Emilian Verstappen” You joked back, feeling thankful for Max.
“But really, don’t be scared. I’m here and I promise to protect you. No matter what”
You gazed up at the Dutch driver with so much emotion.
“Thank you, Max” Now it was your turn to say thank you.
You and Max had led yourselves toward the drivers of Ferrari
“Max! You’re finally here!” Charles exclaimed not fully realizing that you were there. His eyes lingered on you as if he was trying to know who you were.
You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to realize. Max was amused, while Carlos had finally figured out who you were.
“Y/N??” The monegasque driver gasped
“Took you long enough, Charles” You smiled at the Ferrari driver, while Max and Carlos had their conversation.
You and Charles weren’t that close but you two were friends, because of Seb. While you and Seb were close to a certain degree — you had been there during his battle with Lewis and you just naturally formed a friendship around that.
“I haven’t been seeing you in Mercedes. Is everything all right?” Charles asked.
“The NDA stops me from saying anything. But all I can say is that I’m happy that I left” You explained to Charles with a dry chuckle.
And forever the gossiper, Charles could not help but ask
“So is it true? You’re moving to Red Bull?”
“Well ~ you need to find out for yourself eh?” You winked at the Monaco-born driver. You have grown thirsty so you went to get something to drink.
Max looked like he was in deep conversation still with Carlos, so you just went your way.
As you ventured your way towards the refreshments, you were stopped by heathen himself, The boss that tried to screw you over.
Toto fucking Wolff.
Your feeling of anxiety had turned to hatred and anger in an instant. Maybe Max was right with you ripping the Mercedes Principal to shreds.
“ It’s a surprise to see you here, Y/L. Did Red Bull send you an invitation? “ Toto said with hidden condescension.
You chuckled at the audacity. He was once again trying to belittle you.
“ I find that hard to believe, considering that you monitor my every step. Heard about Red Bull huh? Keeping tabs on me Wolff? Scared to lose? ” You mockingly tutted the principal.
“Why would I even do that? Mercedes is better without you! Good fucking riddance . We will win this Championship without you!“ Toto rebutted, the anger in his face was rising.
“Mhmm, sure. Now say that again , this time like you actually believe it” you said so patronizingly with the sweetest, tooth-rotting smile you could muster.
“FUCK YOU!” Bingo! Toto fucking Wolff had reached his limits. And for the first time, you enjoyed every last bit.
But you were nowhere near finished.
“Aww, thanks! Fuck you too. But please do tell me, Toto, just how much money did you lose when investors started pulling out when I left?” The sweet smile on your lips turned menacing
You were in the hell hole of Mercedes for 6 years, you knew their sore spots like it’s the back of your hand. And money was one of them.
“ You know Torger, one might ask, if you say your specialty is managing a business and you’re losing money now. Would that mean that your existence in Mercedes is fucking useless?” You asked with faux interest, a finger underneath your chin as a Cheshire grin spread across your face.
You could see the red rising in the Mercedes Principal’s Face and any minute now he would explode in rage.
“Oh! And also, how’s next year’s car going for you?” And you did just that. You broke Toto fucking Wolff in front of everyone.
“YOU FUCKING BITCH! HOW DARE YOU? I SWEAR I’LL KI—“ Toto had started to close the distance between the two of you with his fist inbound.
But before he could land a blow at you, He was forcefully pulled at the collar and restrained with an arm twisted to his back.
And it was all done by Max Verstappen. He had been watching you the entire time and he believed that you could hold your own. He knew that you could fight your own battles. But even then Max knew when to step up and save you from getting hurt.
However, no matter how much Max tried to protect you, he was still one person. He could prevent Lewis Hamilton from dragging you somewhere where no one was to see.
“What the fuck Y/N?? What even was that?!” Lewis bombarded you with questions. His grip on your wrist proved to be painful by the second
“Fucking let go of me, Lewis!” You yanked your hand away from him.
“What are you even doing here with Verstappen?! Seriously Y/N?? Crashstappen? Out of everyone you chose the enemy? We just broke up and now you’re all over him?” Lewis said so venomously, and with so much disgust that would’ve probably hurt you if anger didn’t consume your system
“You’re the one to talk Lewis!! You’re the first one to fucking dip your dick into another girl! You don’t have the right to judge me! “
“So is this how it is, Y/N? YOU'RE CHOOSING HIM OVER ME?!” Lewis went hysterical and you were just the same and neither of you cared if anyone were to hear you.
“You know what Lewis?! Yes, I’m choosing Max over you! Because, unlike you, He makes do with his promises and he isn’t embarrassed to call me his!”
You stormed out on Lewis. Tears were rolling down your face — you were not sad no, you were angry and frustrated about everything about your past from Mercedes to Lewis Hamilton.
You found yourself inside the lady's room, walking back and forth. You looked at yourself in the mirror and mascara had run down your cheeks. You have tried to wipe it when you heard a voice from outside.
“Y/N? Are you ok in there? Can we talk? ” Max knocks from the other side of the bathroom door. His voice held concern and panic
You slowly opened the door, facing the Dutch driver who was clad in an expensive Italian suit, perfectly tailored for his form.
“Max … before anything happens. I need to tell you something about Lewis and me” You couldn’t bear to meet his eyes. Your sights on the shoes that you chose for him.
Your eyes shift upward, as you feel Max’s finger on your chin lifting your face up
“Y/N, I know. And I don’t care” Shock was evident in your face. You thought that your relationship with Lewis was undiscovered. But all this time Max knew
“M-max, I'm so sorry. I swear, I’m not using you as a rebound” You tried to explain yourself. You expected Max to be angry and you left.
But to your surprise, Max‘s hands found their way to your waist pulling you closer. And the words that left his mouth next left you speechless.
“ I don’t care Y/N. As long as I have you by my side, do whatever you want — I’m yours. Use me”
***
“You’ve sent the pictures of Hamilton to her number?”
“Yes , Sir. Verstappen. It’s accomplished.”
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#f1#formula 1#formula one#f1 imagine#red bull racing#max verstappen#f1 fic#formula 1 fic#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#mv1 x y/n#mv1 x you#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#mv1 x reader#mv1#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton#lewis x reader#lh44 imagine#lh44 x reader#lh44#team lh44#mercedes formula one#formula 1 fanfic#mercedes amg f1#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader
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Love Letters: Yandere! Helluva Boss characters X G/N Reader
Characters- Blitzø, Moxxie, Millie, Loona, Stolas, Asmodeus, Fizzarolli
Show- Helluva Boss
Genre- romantic, yandere
Summary- Mini love letters from your not so secret stalkers admirers!
Warnings- swearing, pet names, yandere themes, mentions of planned kidnapping, stalking, delusional characters, unwanted attention
Word count- 1.5K
Extra notes- I have a Hazbin Hotel version of this uploaded as well!
key: f/l = first letter of your name, y/n = your name, n/n = your nickname
———————————————————
By this point you know who it is y/n, I’m the only person COOL enough to send u romantic as fuck letters like the old people do
Sorry for eating the food u made last night, when i was raiding ur fridge it looked so fucking good (and it was, who knew u could cook :P). i left u a pony as a replacement, u can’t eat it but it’ll make u think of me ;) and that pony cost me a FUCK ton of money, collectors addition and shit. i know, bad fucking ass right??
the stupid shitty loud alarm u installed didn’t work when i came in, ud be much safer with me and loony. that’s the plan anyways babe, u have NO idea the fucking creeps that live down here, they’re all fucking animals and ur…not, a fucking asshole i guess.
i drew you smth (it’s the thing stuck on the back of the envelope with the glitter glu)
^glue
it’s me and u holding hands, like other couples do. we’re better than those corny fuckers tho, hence the crowns on our heads.
ignoring my texts, BLOCKING ME (still upset about this BY THE WAY) and then ignoring my very nice letters is kinda a dick move f/l, but it’s whatevs. everything is almost ready for ur move in. i cleaned up n everything :D
from the only bitch worth ur time,
blitzø
<3 (ignore that, moxxie threw a gun at me and my hand slipped, might fire him)
———————————————————
Hiya sweet cheeks!!!
It’s Mills here, just checking in! Via letter! Ain’t that just the fanciest little thing? Mox said it’s the best way to show thought and care to someone, so here’s all my thoughts and care, just for you!
How’ve you been? Good I hope, I’ve been just peachy thanks for asking! My Ma and Pa are super excited to meet ya one day, they’ve even started planning the wedding! Now I told them to slow their horses down, and not the overwhelm ya, we’ll get to that don’t you worry darlin.
Im just so excited to write this letter for you! Ain’t it so romantic?? I’m practically squealing in delight at the thought of you opening this and swoonin’, that’s what you’re doing, right?
Now i’m writing this on my break, and my boss really needs me back in the game! I got employ of the month! Most amount of kills, with the best and bloodiest results baby!
Until next time sweetheart,
Your Mills! ♡
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Hi y/n,
It’s Moxxie here, I was a little nervous to send this letter to you, but I always try to follow my heart, and my heart was telling me to communicate with you in the most romantic way I know how due to our current circumstances of being so far away. It’s hard, for the both of us i’m sure, but we’ll be okay y/n.
As much as I don’t get along with my father, he has been helpful with my preparations for your arrival. It’s a big deal, moving in together. I’m sure your anxious, I am too, but in the best way possible. Love is pure, and can make somebody feel whole, it’s a wonderful feeling. I never want that to be taken away from me, and you are the source of all my love. That’s why we need to be together, being only half a demon isn’t good for the soul.
We can do lots of fun things together as well, like go to the opera, or to musicals, or I can show you my shooting skills. My boss says that I have a pretty good shot, which is the biggest compliment he’s ever given me. And we can do things you like too, marriage is equal of course. Obviously, this will all happen later done the line, you’ll need time to adjust, and I understand that. I understand you.
I’m running out of room on my page, but I will write to you again tomorrow. Please respond? Just once, y/n? It’d be nice, to hold something from you since I can’t hold you yet.
All my love,
Your Moxxie <3
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Uh, hi?
Wait, you don’t put ‘uh’ in letters do you? Or put wait whilst you think, fuck shit fuck
Sorry, I’m new to this. Normally I just send a text to people but, your phone is off at the moment I think? Or you lost it? Or you blocked me?
Either way, I’ll send you these stupid letter things until it’s back on. So, uh, what are you up to? Blitz has been up my ass about meeting you, heads up, when I come get you and bring you to our room he’s gonna go all psycho dad mode and integrate you, but he’ll back off after a while. He’s a dick sure, but he does want me to be happy. And your, likeable or whatever, so i’m sure you’ll get along.
Once you get comfortable at home with me, Blitz said you could work with me at I.M.P. You’ll be like the co-secretary or something. You won’t be put in danger, I won’t let that happen, you’ll just get to sit with me. We can watch things together, if you wanted.
I guess i’ll see you soon, how do you end these?
See you,
Love from,
Regards?
Bye y/n,
Loona.
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My dearest y/n,
I hope this letter finds you well. I yearn for your presence here, besides me. It’s quite lonely without you, I will admit my dear. It would be oh so wonderful if you could write back. I understand you may be preoccupied with your current activities, but I can’t help myself from desiring a response. I know, it’s selfish of me to expect you to reply to my letters when you’ll be here with me shortly, but I can’t keep my thoughts at bay at the moment.
Your face is a constant in my mind, night and day, asleep and awake, your voice in my mind calms me when I need it most, your smile brightens the bleariest of moments and so on. You can imagine the difficulties I’m facing with no response from you, but that’s alright. If you can’t write back to me dear, I won’t pressure you. Your time is precious, and we will have all the time in hell quite soon. Isn’t that exciting?
I can give you the life you deserve n/n, any luxuries or mundanities you wish for will be handed to you on a silver platter. Or a golden one, if that’s more to your liking? We can properly discuss the specifics once we are together. How thrilling, the though of you and I together at last.
We truly are written in the stars!
Yours until the end of the sky and then some,
Stolas.
———————————————————
Hey there baby,
It’s been a while, huh? I’m sorry if you feel neglected babe, it’s so hard keeping in contact with you when you’re so far away hun. Wouldn’t it be so much better if you were here with me? Sure I’ve got a lot of meetings, being a sin and all, but I’d be at your beck and call n/n, you could even be my new excuse to leave those awful “business” discussions. They barely talk business with me, it’s just complete bullshit babe.
I know the lust ring can be intimidating, we have quite the reputation, but I assure you, love is not a foreign concept to me. Romance is one of my most favourite things! Though that’s a secret, let’s keep that between us, yeah? That side of me is reserved for you n/n.
It’s so boring over here without you, I feel like i’m just lounging around and last time I checked, I was the lust sin, not the sloth sin. We’d have so much fun together babe! Can’t you picture it? Even if you can’t yet, I can wait. Having you near me will be enough, you are enough just as you are.
Sincerely yours,
Asmodeus (Ozzie) xoxo
———————————————————
Heya cutie!
Letters are a lot harder to write than I thought they’d be y’know? I’ve rewritten this like 16 times already, sheesh. It just feels so awkward, I can’t see your reaction to my words which means I can’t fix any mistakes I’ve made :(. I’m sure I haven’t made any though! Right? This letters going really well so far and is definitely wooing you, right, y/n?
Hah, I’m asking questions as if you can reply right away. Silly old me, I don’t know what i’m worrying about! We’re meant to be together. I know it’s super sappy, but we’re like soulmates. Soulmates are bound to be together! That’s why I’m bringing you home soon, I can’t wait! I’ve got sooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo many awesome tricks to show you!
And, the best news, I quit my job!! ༘⋆-ˋˏ ༘⋆-ˋˏ This means, we will have a LOT more time with each other, and you don’t have to worry about Mammon being possessive over me, because fuck him! I’m my own clown! Or, well, your clown.
I can’t wait to see you! This is going to be great for us, I pinky promise :P
Love from,
Fizzarolli !!!! ༘⋆!!,-!ˋˏ!!!
———————————————————
#helluva boss#helluva boss x reader#yandere helluva boss#yandere blitzo#yandere blitzo x reader#yandere moxxie#yandere moxxie x reader#yandere loona#yandere loona x reader#yandere millie#yandere millie x reader#yandere stolas#yandere stolas x reader#yandere asmodeus#yandere asmodeus x reader#yandere fizzarolli#yandere fizzarolli x reader#hazbin hotel#stolas x reader#blitzo x reader#fizzarolli x reader#asmodeus x reader#moxxie x reader#millie helluva boss x reader#loona x reader
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Back to december: The reader broke up with Abby but realizes she made a mistake and wants her back, so she tries to make it up to her with a grand gesture and a sincere meaningful apology.
breaking up with abby wasn't necessarily something that you wanted- hell, you didn't want it at all.
you stand before her door, room 203. with one hand behind your back, you rock back on your heels. you find yourself questioning if were you really about to do this, was it even going to work?
without another moment of hesitation, your knuckles are rapping against her door and you feel the bile rising in your throat. swallow, you tell yourself. breathe.
5 weeks earlier
"she's slowing you down," isaac had told you, unforgiving as ever. "she's a distraction."
tears spilt over your bottom lashes and stained your cheeks, but he remained still, unmoved. "this ends now. i need you focused."
you didn't bother arguing, keeping your arms crossed tightly against your chest. you nodded curtly, lips pressed together in a tight line in a feeble attempt to stop the emotions bubbling in your throat, the tightening, the clenching, the need to scream and fight for the girl you loved.
being isaac's best soldier and dating his other best soldier came with consequences, you both knew this, but you didn't expect this to be one of them. sure, when you were patrolling together you'd steal a kiss when the coast was clear and sure, abby almost got taken down by a stalker in an adult store when you were both rummaging for something to make your evenings together a little more exciting but you made a great team- you were the sharpshooter and abby was the unmovable object.
sure, you both got distracted sometimes but you always made it back alive. clearly, this wasn't enough for isaac. you had to obey, you had to do what's best for the wlf.
"we need to take a break." you mumbled, the weight of the words sitting heavily in the air as you watched abby freeze in front of the sink in your room, hand stilling over the faucet and water pouring over her water bottle.
her head jerked in your direction, "what?"
your hands were itching for a distraction, shaking fingers wringing at your sleeves. "a break, abby. we can't be together. not now, anyway..."
abandoning her water bottle, she turned on her heels to face you. her cheeks were flushed, eyes narrowing and you could tell she was s trying to figure out if you're joking.
"a break?" she questioned, disbelief in her tone. you nodded, head tipping back in hopes of concealing the tears that were threatening to spill out. "he- i think that we need to focus. isaac wants us on the island, we can't risk it."
her eyebrow raised at your slip up, a scoff leaving her lips. "are you seriously letting him make these decisions for you, make this choice for you? throw away what we have because of some stupid fucking island?" she crossed the distance between the both of you, clammy hands gripping at your shoulders. she wanted to shake you, shake some sense into your brain.
"it's for the best, abby..." you hoped she couldn't hear the regret in your voice as it wobbled. "it's temporary, i swear when this is all over we'll-"
"don't-" she cut you off, voice bouncing off the walls in your small room for one.
"don't think you can walk in and out of my life because you're too fucking scared to stand up to him." she shoved you back slightly, stepping away from you and you still felt her heavy hands resting on your shoulders, the weight on your shoulders that never left.
a tear ran down her cheek and you fought against every inch of your brain telling you to step forward, reach out and brush it away. place a kiss to the tip of her nose and reassure her that everything was going to be okay.
"i love you, but i can't wait for you knowing you wouldn't fight for us. you've made your choice." she felt defeated, shoulders dropping and hands hanging heavy at her sides.
and with that she turned her back and left your room, left you with a heavy heart and a sense of regret that only continued to eat you up from the inside.
you've made your choice.
the days blended into nights after that evening, you barely slept, barely ate. you trained until you could barely stand and switched your schedule so you wouldn't have to bump into abby in the gym or the showers.
you'd make brief eye contact with isaac every so often around the grounds and he'd nod at you, sometimes even offer you an apple or an orange. "for your hard work," he'd say, pressing his fruit of choice into your palm and leisurely strolling off with a pat on your back.
you let the fruit rot away next to abby's bottle beside your sink, still full from when she left. a reminder of what you'd let yourself lose.
her door creaks after your second attempt at knocking, still on its latch and her head peeks through the gap. the first thing you notice is how tired she looks.
you briefly wonder if you look just as haggard as her and the way her eyes widen after she gives you a brief up-and-down confirms that. isaac had been putting you all through hell, to say the least. plus, sleeping with a broken heart wasn't exactly easy.
"what do you want? make it quick."
"um," you hesitate, you want to drop to your knees and beg for her to take you back. press your forehead to the ground before her and pray that she forgives you. instead, you bring your hand from behind your back and press the very sorry looking bunch of flowers through the gap between her door and it's frame. you'd begged leah to find some for you when she went out last week and you had only just managed to keep them alive whilst you plucked up the courage to speak to abby.
"theseareforyou" the words tumble off of your tongue before you can even process it and much to your surprise her hand sneaks through the gap and she takes them from you. the door shuts ajar and then reopens all the way and she steps to the side, gesturing for you to enter.
you're nervous as you walk in. you briefly scan her room and nothing's changed, manny still has his dvd's scattered everywhere and abby's section of the room is still fairly tidy. you're glad she's still her usual self.
you turn to look at her and watch her place the flowers on the kitchen counter, her eyes lingering on the dying petals before she takes a deep breath. "has isaac told you to come here?"
a frown finds your face as you shake your head, shoulders dropping in shame at the mention of his name, the reason you were in this position.
"no, i... i wanted to apologise," you're wringing at those damn sleeves again, strings fraying as you pull and pull. "why would he tell me that?"
abby gestures to her bed behind you with a nod of her head and you're craning your neck around to see what she's referring to.
it's her bag, fully packed.
your head spins back around and she's moved now, leaning against the kitchen counter with a hand on her hip. "i'm going."
"you're going?" you echo her, frown deepening. "going where?"
she sighs, and the sound of it wobbles slightly as it leaves her chest. you wonder if she's still her usual self after all.
"i'm going," a calloused hand comes up to rub at her face, exasperated. "i'm fucking leaving. santa barbara, maybe? i don't know."
your brain is running at 110 miles per hour, the script you'd recited several times before leaving your room earlier melting through the creases of your brain as you take in what she's said.
"when?" is all you can muster, that awful feeling in your throat making itself known again.
her eyes meet yours and she feels her chest grow tighter as she realises the weight of her decision. "i'm leaving with owen in," she looks up to the clock above her door. "around five minutes, actually..."
you feel your eye twitch at the mere mention of his name name, owen. fucking owen. abby's ex, the guy who broke her heart and left it for you to fix. just for you to go ahead and break it again.
"why're you leaving with him?"
"why not?" she shrugs, brushing past you to jog down the small set of stairs leading to her area of the room. she ducks down, reaching to grab her bag off her neatly made bed. "there's nothing here for me anymore, i'm not interested in this damn island isaac is so obsessed with and i don't exactly have anybody to fight for anymore."
her words hang heavy in the air and you want to scream at her, grab her shoulders and shake her just as she wanted to do to you and tell her that you love her, you're an idiot and you're sorry.
but you don't. you don't fight for her, much like you didn't fight for her 5 weeks ago.
you just stand there and stare down at her in utter disbelief as she tightens the straps of her bag and stares back at you.
"thanks for the flowers," she says under her breath and with that, she walks towards the door opposite her bed and twists the handle. without looking back, she leaves.
she made her choice.
authors note: ahhh thank you for this request anon! you have awoken my brain and i thank you for that <3 sorry there wasnt much of a grand gesture, i just wanted reader to lose and be miserable :/
#abby anderson#abby anderson angst#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson fic#the last of us#the last of us fic#the last of us angst#tlou#abby tlou#tlou x reader#my writing#beep boop#abby anderson drabble#tlou drabble#tlou oneshot#abby anderson oneshot#tagging is embarrassing#abby anderson smut#smut tag is theo nly way to get noticed!!!!
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masked up | joel miller x f!reader
pairing: joel miller x fem!afab!reader
summary: joel fucks you while wearing his gas mask
warnings/tags: 18+ content MDNI, very self indulgent smut (unprotected piv oops, mask kink 🤭, vaginal fingering, riding joel cowgirl because that is for sure his fav position, little bit of a bulge kink, oral [m receiving]) descriptions of blood and violence, established relationship (married!! whoop whoop!!), making joel call you “my wife” because i’m weak for that shit, soft!joel, protective!joel, this got sappy, pet names galore as usual, NO USE OF Y/N
word count: 4.2k
a/n: i can’t explain how i feel about joel wearing a gas mask. i swear every time he put it on while i was playing tlou pt 1 i moaned /hj. just HEAR ME OUT PLEEK. JUST WATCH THIS (it’s a tiktok edit) OK YOULL UNDERSTAND.
You don’t mean for the mask to become a thing.
But it does. It becomes a Thing™.
It all starts and ends with Joel, like good and bad things usually do. And this thing is no exception.
But it all begins with something bad.
Coming across spores nowadays is few and far between for you. You're not usually on patrol much, your job being to tend to the crops in the greenhouse and feed the livestock.
Today, though, you’re not so lucky. With Tommy out sick, you’re filling in for him. Thankfully, though, you’re paired with Joel, your very lovely and very experienced in the art of dealing with infected, husband. So you know if you come across spores, your husband will have your back.
Spores are annoying, but they're manageable with gas masks. When you and Joel enter an abandoned office building on a new patrol route and you catch sight of the little specks floating through the air, you immediately put yours on, Joel doing just the same.
The floaty fungal fuckers themselves aren't scary, especially not when you have the gas masks to keep you safe. It's just what waits in the shadows that scares you, because where there are spores, there's infected. Lots of them.
And usually interspersed in that conglomerate of stalkers and clickers are the big, meaty ones. The kind that have been sitting and festering for years. The kind that could literally rip you into pieces, regardless if you have a gas mask on or not. Bloaters, yeah, those big shits. The fucking bane of your existence.
Unfortunately, the one lazing around in this abandoned office building must somehow pick up on your undying hate for them because within minutes of you and Joel looting the place for all it’s worth, it comes clambering out of what used to be a conference room.
It's a big one. Noticeably disgusting, outrageously hideous, growling and slobbering as it slings mycotoxin at you. It's not very fast, and yet it's so fucking terrifying as it lumbers after you, because you know exactly what it’s capable of.
You're shooting at it with whatever arrows you have left in your backpack (though they’re mostly just bouncing off it’s thick fungal exterior), and Joel's crunching out shot after shot with his shotgun, but neither of you are hardly making a dent.
God, you wish Joel had brought the flamethrower he keeps in his storage room. You’d make a Molotov cocktail, but with the other infected hot on your heels, there's no time.
A stalker comes crawling out of the shadows behind you, knocking over an office chair in the process, and you whip around to lodge an arrow right between its eyes. Two more come swinging out of nowhere, and you're so focused on trying to get rid of them so that they can't reach you—can't reach Joel—that you don't realize you've left your back unattended until a large, gross excuse for a hand lands hard on your shoulder, lugging you backwards with inhuman strength.
Joel shouts your name with increased panic, and you hear his gun fire off more rounds into the bloater's back, but it doesn't care, it's hands finding your head and jaw, gripping you so tight you think it might shatter your mandible.
"Joel!" You scream, eyes squeezing shut as the pain in your jaw multiplies.
This motherfucker is about to rip you clean in half—
You think this is it, I'm about to die in front of my husband by being torn from the jaw down, but, thankfully, death never comes. Instead, the bloater releases you with a pained roar as the sound of squelching fills your ears. You manage to back away enough to watch Joel tug the bloater off of you by the handle of his machete, the blade lodged in its chest.
He pulls the machete out only to swing it down in an arc straight into its head, repeatedly. Blood splatters all over him as he bludgeons the wretched thing. Over his veiny arms, his black mask. It sinks into the fabric of his flannel.
And funnily enough, this is when it becomes a thing.
The bloater crumples to the floor with a gurgling groan as it finally dies, and Joel turns to you, chest heaving and eyes wide and panicked. They soften, relieved when he catches sight of you physically intact, though, mentally a bit checked out.
Whether that’s because you’re in shock or because your brain is rewiring as it files this new image of Joel away, who knows? Maybe it's a little bit of both.
“Are you okay?" Joel asks, sheathing his machete to look you over. His hands catch your jaw gently, a welcome contrast to the bloater. He turns it this way and that, checking for any damage or possible bites.
A traitorous thrumming starts up between your thighs as he stares you down through the lenses of his mask.
"I'm fine, Joel," you say, breathlessly. "Thanks."
“Thank god,” he squeezes your arm lovingly, grateful to see you in one piece. “Let’s get outta here.”
- - -
"Do you like the masks?" You ask him eventually, when you're back outside, the setting sun warming you pleasantly as the tall borders of Jackson rise in the distance.
You both took the masks off the minute you escaped the spores, but a part of you secretly hoped Joel would keep his on.
Joel scratches at his graying beard. "They keep us safe. Don't feel much for 'em at all really." He glances sidelong at you, a curious quirk to his lips. "Why?"
You shrug, "No reason."
Just trying to figure out if you'd wear it during sex if I asked you to, that's all.
“Alright, somethin's up," Joel says. "You've got the look.”
“What look?”
“The sex look.”
You halt in your hike, turning to narrow your eyes at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”
Joel fails to stifle a chuckle. “You’re horny. That’s the face you make when you want to have sex. Like you wanna eat me alive.”
Shit. He’s found you out.
“How would you know?”
He blinks. “Honey, I’m married to ya. Of course I’m gonna know.”
Valid. Still-
"I’m not horny," you try to defend, though you've never been good at lying, and based on the self satisfied smile Joel wears, you know he sees right through you. "We almost died, Joel. Maybe this is my 'loving every minute of my life' look."
"I know that look. This ain't it."
Jesus Christ.
You sigh heavily. “Okay, yes. Maybe I am a little horny.”
"Because…what? We almost died? That gets you goin'?"
"No," you grit. You can’t even look at him when you say it. “It’s the mask.”
His brows knit. “The...gas mask?”
You nod tightly.
“I don’t think I’m followin’,” Joel says.
Is he seriously asking you to spell it out for him?
You take a deep, steadying breath. You don’t quite know how to phrase this, so you just go for it. “Watching you save my life in the gas mask just sort of woke something up in me. It was hot.”
“Oh.”
Yup. He definitely thinks you’re crazy.
“So, what, you want me to fuck you while wearin' the mask or somethin’?”
Heat pools heavy and thick between your thighs at his words, your heart hammering behind your ribs. “Something like that, yeah.”
Joel straightens. “...Okay. I can do that.”
Your head whips up. “Wait, seriously?”
“You’re my wife. If you asked me to fuck you with a damn jester’s hat on I’d do it.”
You laugh. “Okay, let’s not go that far.”
“I’d really do it for you.”
“It sounds like you actually want to wear it.”
He chuckles, and you two resume walking back to Jackson. “Alright, so, gas mask on tonight,” he says. “Any other requests?”
“Since you’re asking…maybe you could wear a cowboy hat sometime…”
- - -
"Jesus, you're really lovin' this," Joel muses.
You're laid out beneath him in your shared bed, his long calloused fingers deep in your cunt, his thumb circling slowly over your clit, drawing out your pleasure, stretching it like taffy. Your jeans are still on, unbuttoned and unzipped, and your soiled underwear is pulled to the side as Joel’s hands unwind you.
You're grasping onto his muscled forearm for dear life, moans leaking out of you in a steady stream as he fucks his fingers into you, curling up to stroke that spot that has you clenching down hard on his digits as the burning starts in your toes, climbing up your thighs.
He looks so fucking good with that mask situated over his handsome face, his peppered hair flipping out over the straps that keep it snug on him. His eyes are dark through the lenses as they watch you unravel before him, almost black from how dilated his pupils are.
His jeans are still on, his erection straining hard against his zipper. The flannel he wore earlier is gone, giving you the perfect view of his toned chest and the dark hair that dusts it. There's still some blood stains on his mask. Every time you catch sight of them, your body ignites with something carnal and hungry.
"’Cause, you look hot," you huff between moans.
Joel laughs, deep and rumbling, and the mask warbles it a bit, adding a distortion to his voice that for some reason makes everything happening so much hotter. “I still don’t really get it, but if it’s makin’ you this wet, I don’t care.”
You moan particularly loud at the sound of his voice muffled through the mask and cant your hips against his hand, the combination of his thumb circling your clit and his fingers fucking up into you has you dangling dangerously close to the edge.
“I-I’m close, Joel.”
His brows furrow behind his mask, and he quirks his fingers inside you even more, and you jolt against his hand.
“C’mon then, baby. Come for me. Show me how much this pretty pussy loves this mask.”
Fucking shit. When you first met Joel, he hardly spoke a single word, and even when you got him to open up more, he was thoughtful with what he said, chose his words carefully. Unless he was angry, then he could be a bit of an ass.
In bed though? Shit, if you can get him to shut up it’s a damn miracle.
“F-fuck, Joel,” you whine, legs stiffening as your orgasm swells inside you, a match striking, lighting up your viscera as pleasure fast-releases inside your veins.
“There you go baby, that’s it,” Joel purrs. “So pretty when you come.”
You inhale shakily as the last few shocks fizzle through you, your clit throbbing as you come down from your high.
“Fuck…” you huff, trying to catch your breath.
He strokes your thigh lovingly, and if you could see him behind the mask you’d assume he’s probably wearing that soft smile that he gets sometimes that melts you into a puddle of mushy gushy feelings.
Joel leans back on his knees. “Now it’s time to deliver on that promise,” he says, and your skin tingles at the sound of his zipper.
“Wait,” you tell him, and he stops, looking at you in concern.
“Somethin’ wrong?”
“No I just…I wanna show you how much this means to me.”
“Me wearin’ this mask? It’s not a big deal-“
You sit up and plant your hands on his chest, pushing him down until his back hits the mattress, effectively shutting him up.
You swing your leg over him, situating yourself right on his lap and peel off your tank, delighting in the way his eyes widen and his hands come down to settle warmly on your thighs.
The muscles in his arms shift as he squeezes your flesh. The drag of the crotch of his jeans against yours has you biting your lip, a zing of pleasure shooting through you.
Joel’s eyes have darkened behind his mask, his pupils swallowing his irises whole besides the thin circle of hazel remaining at the edges as he watches you.
“I’ve never hated jeans more than I do right now,” he says lowly, his gaze dropping to the rapid rise and fall of your chest.
His strong hands slide up from your thighs to your hips to your waist, his dry, calloused skin causing goosebumps to rise in their wake. Finally, his palms cup your breasts, unrestrained by a bra because they’re too hard to come by in this day and age.
He squeezes gently, and your nipples tighten beneath his palms. And then he rolls one between his thumb and forefinger, and your back arches, pressing you further into him. Your hips grind down automatically, and Joel releases a hazy moan.
“Maybe,” you gasp when you roll your hips again, reveling in the delicious friction against your clit. “You should take them off.”
“Yours first.”
You don’t press him on it. You want your jeans off. So you lift yourself off of him and the bed to tug at your zipper, and Joel watches raptly as you pull your skinny jeans down your thighs, kicking them off your ankles.
And then you’re only in your underwear, and you throw your legs astride him again, the cloth of your underwear catching deliciously on the tent in his jeans. Joel’s hands find your body immediately, like a sweet tooth to a chocolate bar. His fingers dig into your flesh, and he grips your thighs, pulling them apart to set you on him fully. A shudder wracks your spine at the feeling of him pressed against your throbbing core.
“Goddamn,” he growls, eyes roving over you hungrily. “So fuckin’ perfect.”
You grind down on the hard outline of his cock, and Joel can’t help his reflexive thrust into you, and you sigh.
“I need you in me, Joel,” you whisper, leaning forward to plant your hands on his broad chest, your fingers messing with the hair dusting his sternum. “Need your cock filling me up.”
“Christ,” he swears, eyes falling shut as he bucks again. “Need’a be in you, sweetheart.”
His hands find your hips and then your ass, squeezing the muscle cultivated there from twenty years of surviving in an apocalyptic world.
His fingers dip beneath the waistband of your panties, warm and confident. He lightly rakes his fingernails over your skin, running his calloused fingertips reverently over the stretch marks on your hips.
“So fuckin’ beautiful,” he whispers through the mask. “Wish I could kiss you.”
You shiver and your arms loop around his neck. His back is scarred beneath your hands, and you rub gently into the muscle of his traps, causing Joel to release a groan.
His hand gravitates from your hips to the apex of your thighs, and your breath catches in your throat at the warmth radiating from his fingers when he positions them just below where you want him most.
He circles your clit again, smooth pleasure seeping through your nerve endings and your head falls back in a relaxed moan. You grind against the hard outline of his cock and the pads of his fingers against your clit, each slow drag of your hips causing pleasure to fizzle through you, like a flavored tab in a glass of water.
Your hands travel down his chest and stomach, outlining the thick, jagged scar there. Over his dark happy trail that starts just above his belly button and leads down to what your body is desperately craving. A little treasure map.
You deftly undo the button and zipper and Joel makes a wrecked noise in the back of his throat when your hand brushes the hard outline of him through his briefs.
“Wanna show you how much I like you in the mask,” you purr as you palm him. “How hot it gets me.”
“Fuck,” his head falls back when you tug him out of his briefs, stroking his thick length to full mast. “Please, baby.”
You inch yourself down his legs so that you’re face to face with his weeping cock. Joel’s eyes widen and his hand comes up to gently stroke your hair appreciatively, tucking a lock of it behind your ear. He looks at you with adoration, and your heart swells in your chest.
“I love you, y’know that?” He says, softly.
You can’t help but get a bit misty-eyed, always a fan of Joel when he gets soft like this. “I love you, too.”
He smiles, and glances down at his dick, maneuvering it so that the head skates across your lips, leaving a trail of precum. His heated eyes find yours again. “Go on and show me then.”
“Yes sir.”
You keep eye contact as you lean forward to give his cock little kitten licks, and his head drops against the pillow with a groan, eyes lidded. “Shit, you can’t be lookin’ at me like that.”
You just smirk, and lick a long stripe up a prominent vein and kiss the tip of his cock sweetly before slowly taking him into your mouth. You take in as much as you can (which isn’t much, he’s pretty fucking big), and your hands find whatever you can’t fit.
You start sucking him in earnest, pressing the flat of your tongue against the ridge of his cock, delighting in the way the hand that had softly petted your hair before is now gripping it tight when you tongue that sensitive spot that always gets him reeling.
“That’s it, honey,” he groans, his hips twitching with tiny little thrusts as he tries to hold himself back. “Just like that.”
You moan against his cock, which has him bucking up reflexively, shoving his dick further into your warm mouth. Your throat spasms around the head of his cock when it hits the back of it, gagging lightly and tears forming at the edges of your eyes.
“Shit, I'm sorry, sweetheart,” he says, wiping the tears from your eyes with his thumb.
You shake your head slightly in reassurance, moaning around his cock again, and he releases a heavy breath, eyes fluttering shut once more as you continue to suck and bob and lick, effectively ruining him.
“Okay, okay, baby,” he says after a little while, lightly tugging on your hair to try and get you to stop. “I’m gonna come if you keep doin’ that.”
You release his cock with an audible pop and send him a pout, “But that’s the whole point.”
He chuckles a bit, sliding the mask off for a second so he can pull you up to kiss you softly, his tongue swiping over your bottom lip. You moan gratefully into his mouth when he tilts his head to deepen it, opening up greedily. As attractive as you find the mask, you certainly do miss being able to kiss him. You sigh happily when he pulls back to mouth at your jaw and throat, sucking and nipping his way down.
“I wanna be in you when I come,” he murmurs against your skin, voice rough and gruff and you don’t think you’ll ever tire of it. “How’s that sound?”
You moan softly when he bites down on your throat, his beard and mustache tickling your skin. “Sounds…sounds good.”
He gives you another kiss before tugging his mask back down over his head, and your skin ignites, pussy fluttering.
Joel laughs. “I can literally see the cogs in your brain turnin’ when I put this on. You really do like it, huh?”
You shrug with a guilty smile. “The heart wants what it wants.”
And what it wants is him. Real bad.
So you drift a hand down to pull your panties to the side and shift your hips to position yourself over him, the head of his cock catching on your entrance. You sink slowly down, his length filling you.
The two of you moan in tandem.
“There we go,” he sighs.
“Mm, so big, Joel…” you whimper, and his dick jumps inside you.
You both just hang there for a moment, suspended in time as you get used to the feeling of each other. You’ve done this so many times, know each others bodies inside and out, yet it’s still a brand new experience every time.
You always have to adjust to his thickness.
You break the spell with an experimental roll of your hips, and Joel’s hands clamp down on your hips with a vice grip.
“Christ—“ he swears. “You’re so good, so good for me.”
He’s filling you so fully, so deeply right now, you’re practically speared on him, and each roll of your hips has your clit brushing against his pelvic bone, amplifying that white hot pressure building inside you.
When you and Joel first started getting intimate together, he was quiet in the bedroom. Probably a bit nervous around you—he was the one that fell first, after all.
But now after years together, he lets it all out.
Grunts and moans leak out of his gritted teeth as you fuck yourself on top of him. He’s dousing you in praises, telling you what a good girl you are. How perfect you are. How lucky he is to call you his wife.
It’s all so very adorable and very sexy and you just love him so fucking much.
Joel plants his feet down behind you, just to get some leverage so he can thrust his hips up into you at a steady pace. Your hands find purchase on his chest, keeping you upright while he fucks you.
His large palm slides around the front of your stomach, pressing down, and you can feel the way his cock moves inside you as he does it.
“You see that, baby?”
You haven’t really looked down, so focused on the way he looks in the mask, how his breaths are coming out heavier and rougher through it. The way he sounds wrecked. But now that he’s asking, you do.
You look down, only to see a slight bulge in your stomach with each thrust of his hips.
A pleasant shudder runs through you. “Oh fuck.”
“Love seein’ the way I fuck you,” he rasps.
You watch his cock disappear and reappear with a slack jaw, eyes glazed as his hands stray to your thighs, squeezing and kneading the flesh.
You’re losing strength in your arms, your nails scraping through his chest hair as you try and remain upright, but the effort of matching his thrusts with your own along with the steady ecstasy filling your marrow is enough to have you collapsing against his chest, boneless.
And now Joel can really take the reins. His big hands grip your ass, holding you still as he pounds into you, your cheek smushing against his pecs with each heavy thrust, your clit rubbing against his sweat-slicked skin.
“F-fuck, Joel. Oh my god—“
“Yeah, yeah,” he grunts. “Atta girl.”
Within moments you’re already there, eyes squeezing shut, brows pulled together in ecstasy as your climax crashes over you in rolling waves. It ebbs and flows within you as you listen to the heated pants modulating through Joel’s mask, watching his eyes gloss over as he chases his own release.
It’s so fucking good. So right. Your husband never fails to give you exactly what you want.
His thrusts grow sloppier as he follows soon behind you, the fluttering walls of your cunt pulling him over faster.
“I’m comin’,” he grits. And then he’s grinding his cock into your pussy, holding you still against him as he paints your insides with thick ropes of cum, releasing a long, drawn out, wrecked moan of your name.
You lay pliant on his chest, practically drooling on him as you both come down and his cock softens inside you, slick and cum running down the inside of your thighs. His heart pounds under your ear, a steady reminder that he’s alive and here and that you, thank fuck, didn’t die earlier today.
“Thanks,” you mumble against his perspirant skin.
He tugs the mask off, his hair sticking to his sweaty temple. “‘Course, darlin’. Though as hot as that was, I dunno about having sex wearin’ that again. I think I was startin’ to get light headed from the lack of air.”
You giggle, “I’m sorry.”
“No, no. I liked it. But now anytime we have to wear them again I’m just gonna be thinkin’ about this. Gonna get a damn hard-on when I’m on patrol.”
You smirk, leaning up to plant a kiss on his lips. He opens up beneath you immediately, moaning softly into your mouth.
“Maybe that was my goal all along,” you mumble, smiling into the kiss.
He pulls back with a quirked brow and crooked grin. “You are into some sick kinds of torture.”
“I mean, if it gets you coming home to me quicker…”
“Oh I’ll be comin’, alright.”
Your face scrunches. “God, you’re sick. Why did I even marry you?”
His eyes melt, one hand squeezing your ass cheek, the other stroking your jaw. “Because you love me.”
That causes tears to well in your eyes again, because despite everything, despite all the fucked up things about this world, you do love him. You’re capable of loving him. And you’re grateful that, even with the terrible way life has treated him, he’s capable of loving you too.
“Yeah, I do,” you say.
He kisses you again, sweet and passionate and filled with all the things he never knows how to say. “I love you, too.”
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller#joel miller x you#tlou#game joel miller#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#pedro pascal#hbo joel miller
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you're obsessed
you're obsessed
Pairing: Jamie Tartt x fem!actress!reader
Warnings: swearing, no use of y/n
Summary: jamie tartt fic where he has a huge crush on an actress and sees her at a richmond event and she flirts w him he’s really shy bc he likes her but they hook up after idk
Wordcount: 1.6k
A/N: didnt manage to write any smut bc this was getting way too long teehee :D general warnings for swearing.
writing comms are open!
“Oi, Tartt! Stop stalking your actress and give me some laps,” Roy yells, shaking Jamie from his reverie. Jamie is not stalking her instagram. He’s just not; because a stalker would have notifications on as they obsessively checked their profile at least four times every minute. Jamie is only checking once every five minutes, and he doesn’t even have her notifications on. So there. Suck it, Roy.
“Fine, don’t give yourself an aneurysm,” he mutters, taking a quick minute to stretch before he’s running around the pitch. He just has a crush. That’s all. A little one. He first saw you in some thriller that came out last month, and something about you had him hooked. Initially he thought it was just the character you played, a regular yet charming civilian, pulled into the crime world. After watching (admittedly, way too many) interviews, he realised it wasn’t the character. It was you.
You with your witty remarks and comments. The way you laughed good naturedly and poked fun at your costars. The way you were clumsy and scatterbrained, in a terribly endearing way.
It didn’t help that you were also gorgeous.
So, yeah. Jamie had a slight crush. It was fine, though, because you were currently based in Los Angeles (you were in a new Marvel movie) and had no plans of coming to the UK anytime soon.
“She’s right fit, though,” Isaac says, nudging Jamie as he runs past.
Jamie feels his stomach tighten with jealousy before he catches himself. Why was he jealous? He didn’t know you and you probably didn’t even know he existed. Well, maybe you did, because he was sexy and a hot football player. Did you even watch football? Would you watch it if you knew he was in it?
Jamie remembers hearing something about a parasocial relationship from Keeley and resolves to not think about you.
At least while he was training.
***
He’s spraying on cologne in the locker room when Keeley bursts in, all smiles and pep.
“Oh. My. Fucking. God!”
“Is everything alright?” Ted asks, breaking away from Coach Beard who as far as Jamie could tell, hasn’t said anything but is managing to have a full conversation with Ted.
“You will not believe who I booked for this years’ Gala!”
Roy’s ears perk up at this as he slides into the conversation. “The Muppets?”
“No, Roy,” Keeley says, exasperated, “not the fucking Muppets. Only the hottest new actress on screen right now!”
At this point, all the boys have gathered around Keeley, jostling each other and trying to see the screen of her phone. Jamie fights his way to the front, and when his eyes focus on Keeley’s phone, he’s pretty sure his heart drops into his stomach.
It was you. There. With your smile and your eyes and your name and a headline.
You were coming to their Gala.
You.
He feels his heart drop into his stomach. This couldn’t be real. Maybe it was a mistype, or someone accidentally said they scheduled you but in reality you were on the other side of the globe. It was faked. It had to be.
He broke away from his team, practically running back to the changing rooms. Opening up your instagram, he pulled up your story. There, you had reposted the announcement.
Oh. Oh fuck.
***
On the day of the Gala, Jamie seriously considers hiring a stylist rather than just going with his gut. He needs to look good. Tonight is most probably one of the most important days of his life. His favourite actress, coming to his club’s Gala. Maybe, if he plays his cards right, you’ll bid on him.
Wait. Who was he kidding? He’s Jamie fucking Tartt. Of course you’ll bid on him. He could wear a trash bag and you’d bid on him, because he is just that fucking sexy.
Right?
He shoots a quick text to Keeley, desperate for a second opinion.
Me:
[image0.png]
thoughts? Xx
Keeley:
Ur hot babes!!
Gonna knock em dead xx
Lose the tie u look like a prick <3
He takes one last look in the mirror, running his hands through his hair. Yeah. He’s gonna show up and be so cool. He’s so cool.
***
They’re taking pictures on the carpet, and everyone can tell Jamie is not all there. He barely tells the paparazzi to take pictures of his good side, following it up with “And that’s any side.” His eyes keep darting around, every scream and shout of delight sending his stomach in knots in case you’re the one to step out of the limousine.
Maybe you just won’t show up. Maybe you were already inside.
He can’t decide which option is worse.
When he’s at the end of the carpet, about to head inside, he hears whistles and screams, different from the ones before. These sound a lot more excited, filled with more adrenaline and anticipation. Or maybe he’s just projecting.
He turns, and sure enough, you’re there.
Stunning. That’s the only thing he can think of. You smile beautifully at the photographers, working the crowd with ease. It was as if you were friends, had a solid rapport with them with the way you were conversing back and forth.
“Close your mouth. You look like a fucking basking shark,” Roy says, elbowing Jamie in the stomach.
He flinches back, giving Roy a shove in return. “Oi, what was that for?”
“You’re not gonna make a good impression with you gawking like a fucking idiot. Go say hi or something. Be fucking normal.”
Jamie sends Roy an affronted look. “I am normal, you old bastard. Just because we don’t act like how you did in the 1800s doesn’t mean I’m being an idiot.”
Roy just growls, shoving past him into the building.
Jamie takes a step forward to follow when a voice catches his attention.
“Hey! You’re Jamie Tartt, right?”
He turns on instinct, a winning smile already plastered on his face. “I’ll do autographs once—you.”
You raise your eyebrows slightly, waiting for him to go on. “Once I what?”
“You’re, um, you’re her.” He says your name, almost reverently.
Your grin widens, almost giddy. “You know who I am?”
“I follow you—” before he could say more, your manager rushes in behind you, ushering you inside. You wince at him, apologetic, before heading inside.
Jamie stands there, dumbfounded.
I follow you? That’s what he had to say? Now he really does sound like a stalker. He scrubs his hand over his face, groaning in disappointment.
He’s gonna make it up to you. He has to.
***
Inside, he sees he’s sat with Ted and Roy as well as a few other people and an empty seat next to him. He largely ignores his own table, trying to catch sight of you and not succeeding in the slightest. He huffs a sigh of annoyance, sliding into his seat.
Ted notices his glum aura, nodding sagely. “It’s the oysters, isn’t it? Because I know they have to try to make the flavour appeal to everyone but adding this much lemon is just downright insultin’.”
“It’s not the oysters, coach.”
Ted frowns. “The placemats? I was never really an eggshell white person myself but—”
“Jamie’s pining over an actress he thinks I don’t see him stalk on insta when he’s supposed to be running drills,” Roy cuts in, tired of Ted’s guessing.
“I’m not pining,” Jamie pouts, crossing his arms in a decidedly not childish way.
Before Roy could get another rebuttal out, the seat next to him is being filled, and once again he sees you, smiling at him. “Actresses are overrated,” you say, placing your napkin over your lap, “trust me.”
Jamie’s blood runs cold, convinced the universe is playing a cruel trick on him. Running into you is an absolute dream, he’d never deny that, but running into you with both Ted and Roy there? He may as well be taken out back and shot.
He must’ve been sitting there agape for too long, because before he knows it, Ted is reaching a hand over and giving yours a shake.
“Ted Lasso, it’s a pleasure to meet ya’. I absolutely loved you in that thriller that came out last June. Had me on the edge of my couch! And I know Jamie here liked it as well, he was bawling a right mess by the end of it.”
You turn to look at Jamie, and having the full force of your attention on him made him nearly choke on air. “Were you really?”
Jamie licks his lips, trying to gain some composure. “Bawling is sayin’ a lot, really. More like a reasonable cry.”
You nod along, clearly not buying it.
“I’ve been keeping up with your games this season. The goal you scored against West Ham the other day was seriously impressive. You were practically miles away from the net.”
Immediately, Jamie perked up. “You like football?”
“Well, I’m no expert, but I definitely try to watch all your games if I can.”
Jamie leans in, feeling bold and taking your hand in his. “Richmonds games? Or my games?”
You shrug. “Depends on the hair.”
He laughs, leaning back in his chair, body turned towards you. Maybe tonight won’t be so bad after all.
#ari speaks#ari writes#jamie tartt x reader#jamie tartt#jamie tartt x you#jamie tartt x y/n#ted lasso#jamie tartt fanfiction
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Can u do, like, Lando’s diary, maybe?
Warnings: Swearing, Stalker!Lando, pretending to be someone else.
Pairing: Lando Norris x fem!reader
A/N - A few or Lando’s diary entries
A/N2 - I write my dates in the British format or DD/MM/YYYY not MM/DD/YYYY
01/05/2024
Dear Fucking Diary,
I dunno why I decided to write a flipping diary, but I guess I am. Well. Check on my day, I guess? Did shitty media, met some fans. Nothing big. Nothing unusual. Fuck it.
02/05/2024
Dear Fucking Diary,
Sooooooooooooooooooooooo, things have changed up a bit. I was in the garage and I saw this really, really pretty girl angel and oh my god, I swear, love at first sight. Seriously, she’s gorgeous. I can’t get over her. So I asked Oscar and decided to put up with the few minutes of teasing, because man, I couldn’t not know who she was, ya know? Fill in tomorrow
03/05/2023
Dear Fucking Diary,
Her names Y/N. I’m not a stalker, I swear, but I couldn’t, like, not find all her socials and stuff. They’re on private though. Fucks sake. So, I made the very very deep decision to make another instagram account and follow her. Maybe I’d get her interested. So I sent her a DM. Acting as if I had the wrong Y/N. Though god, I wish I knew other people called Y/N. Her name’s gorgeous. Got practise now. Write tomorrow.
04/05/2024
Dear Fucking Diary,
She accepted my follow request. We talked for a bit. She thinks my name’s Oscar. Sorry to actual Oscar. But god, she’s so pretty. We called for a bit, surprised she didn’t recognise my voice. Well, we didn’t work close enough to do so anyways. She worked on Oscar’s side of the garage. She was so clueless, it felt like a game. Not in a good way, how would I ever come clean?
05/05/2023
Dear Fucking Diary,
She’s pretty. She hasn’t blocked me, I’m surprised, but I flicked through her socials. She’s so pretty, oh my god. I told Oscar. He told me to come clean. But how? What if she thought I was a freak or a stalker? I mean, I technically was. But like, what if she exposed me and ruined my whole career? Forget that, what if I lost her? I can’t.
06/05/2024
Dear Fucking Diary,
Hi lando, you left your diary in Oscar’s driver room. Fucking stalker.
13/05/2024
Dear Fucking Diary,
You read what she wrote, I’m fucked. She hasn’t turned up to work for a week. I’m scared. She’s blocked me on everything, I shouldn’t have done what I did. I asked Zak about her, he doesn’t know. I don’t want her to leave, I can’t stand the thought of her with someone else. Fuck this diary. It’s a curse.
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Title | Creepin’
Pairing | University student!Mark x reader ft. nct dream (minor appearances)
Warning (s) | minors dni! NSFW, Use of swear words, really mean!Mark, stalker and simp reader, solo masturbation, rough handling (to reader), degradation, name-calling, dirty talk, choking, fingering, cunnilingus, squirting, smut, unprotected sex (please wear protection!), creampie, public rough sex
Word count | 2.8 k ish…?
Song(s) | Toxic - RealestK, U&I - The NBHD
“Hey, time to go.”
The familiar voice of your friend stirred you out of your nonsensical dream, causing what seemed to be an audible gasp from her when you reached out so suddenly, all startled.
“Dude.”
“It’s always this fucking bean bag, sorry.” You mumbled, letting her hand go. You carefully stood up to stretch, the mini blanket you brought landing on the carpet floor. “How long was I out?”
Your friend glanced on her wristwatch with a hum. It downed to you that it was indeed time to go when you saw her with her coat on, books on-hand. You retrieved your blanket off the floor and folded it carefully.
“Like two hours tops? Our bus comes in like fifteen.”
“Well, you can go. I’m gonna get my sis to pick me up later instead.” You say, wanting to stay at least another hour to make up for the supposedly “study” date but you were so exhausted and told your friend you’d take a twenty nap only to end up sleeping for two hours.
You didn’t tell her to wake you up after twenty though, and you didn’t set an alarm too thinking your body would do the favour for you but that was still a dumb decision especially when the small booth you rented with her had a really comfortable looking bean-bag where students rest or even go as far as sleep on.
Unfortunately, you’re always a victim (and so is everybody else).
“What! You’re ditching me agaaaain,” She grumbled, bottom lip jutting out trying to spite you but she knew you’d just chuckle at her cute efforts.
“You literally get off the bus after five stops and leave me dude. But seriously, go home your pup’s probably looking for you right now.”
“Right! Ok, fine text me when you’re safe and sound though ok? Don’t want to lose my “study” buddy who loves getting her beauty sleep.”
Your opened your mouth to try and come up with a smart insult but you sighed, a matching smile gracing the both of you.
“You had no right to say that! But hey, I’m often available for you so…”
“True! I’ll see you next time then and will text you if we end up renting a different booth.”
Your friend blew a flying kiss which you jokingly grimaced at and made sure to escort her out of the entrance, reminding her to text you when she’s home (and if she could send a pic of her new pup too through messages you’d truly appreciate that) before you made your way back to the booth.
The clock read 5:45 pm and the window was absent of any daylight, plunging the whole room in semi-darkness until you decided it would be best to turn the lamp on which had been plugged to the table for use.
You spend another thirty minutes typing up study material for the incoming finals season until you slowly packed your things, one hand trying to rub the threatening surge of sleep terrorizing your eyes.
You stretched your arms above your head before you slipped your coat on, humming to yourself as you informed your sister you’d be home a little later and to not lock the gates so it’d be easier for you to get in especially when it’s dark out now and there were way too many creeps lurking in the alleyways of your neighbourhood despite the cold mid-October weather.
You could get her to pick you up — the option was there but you like taking public transit even at this hour because you knew it’d still be somewhat full and if it wasn’t, you didn’t mind having time for yourself as you drown yourself in music from your headphones, gaze falling to the window next to you as you watched a whole strip of sidewalks and tall buildings with an occasional bridge on sight.
You saw your friend’s message and replied back to it too, grinning at the picture of her pup learning a new trick. You sent her a quick reply before heading downstairs to make your way to the second floor of the library. There were still a lot of people at this hour so you weren’t really worried about being alone at this time.
Sometimes, you do stay just before 10 am but that usually takes place when there’s a group research, or if you need to do more studying. Studying at home didn’t really work for you, especially when your desk is just right next to your cozy-looking bed so the university’s gigantic library was the best option.
You tuck your phone into your pocket as you rounded yourself into another wing, your brain automatically leading you to your destination; another row of open study booths near the science department.
With your headphones strapped on, you search for an empty table near the dim-lit hall, claiming the one facing one of the meeting rooms filled with students majoring in medicine. The room in front of you is usually booked by the same group of people, one of them being your long-time crush for two years now.
Mark Lee.
You grin to yourself when you propped your laptop open, noticing the familiar head full of dark hair above the transparent glass along with those signature doe eyes. You can’t see the rest of his face because of the frosted glass but you could tell what expression he had. He looked quite focus, typing something down so intensely. He would look at the speaker (that being Jaemin, which your friend knew since they did share a class once back when they were taking classes for faculty admissions) then nod to himself. He would raise his hand too for the sole purpose of sharing his opinions on whatever topic they’re discussing.
Sometimes, you find yourself wondering why you didn’t gun for nursing just like them but you weren’t good with blood and nursing didn’t interest you just like the rest of the medical-related jobs. It was on demand, yes, but you were perfectly fine with pursuing finance. It promised great money, though, it would have been nice if you were in the same field as your crush. At least then you’d have the same interest and that would count as some sort of a connection between you and him.
However, there’s a part of you not wanting to get it out there and to actually introduce yourself to Mark, try to see if he’d give you his number or go off the rails with your imaginations and delusions running wild in your head. You like to think you’re not that crazy, just a little weird for thinking about Mark that way when he could turn out to be the worst guy in the planet but so far, there was no indication of that or him having a girlfriend at all. If he had, you’d find out by now but even then, you think it won’t stop you from liking him for a reason you don’t really like to admit.
You liked to follow him around, peeking in small corners and sometimes attend some of his out-of-school activities with your friend or alone, and you were quite consistent, though you made sure you stood far away from him so you can watch him play and have fun without having him figure it all out and confront you as to why you’ve been steadily following him around for two years now.
You don’t even follow him on social media because his account is private but you do visit his profile sometimes, even going as far on keeping track of his friends with accounts set to public like Chenle, another promising nurse from their group. He would come through often with pictures that involve Mark and you would take screenshots here and there and save all of it in the hidden category in case your friend needed to use your phone.
Most of them knew about your crush on Mark but not to that extent.
One of them did go with you to attend two of his rugby matches but they thought it was just that and you weren’t going to go home to sift through any local newspapers online or stalk the rugby league he’s a part of.
You knew it was getting unhealthy, maybe it might scare anyone off if they did find out but you kept it a bay.
It was like your dirty little secret and crushing on him was just so fun, especially when he has zero idea about it all. You’ve never even made an eye-contact with him and you’re not really sure why that doesn’t upset you.
You just don’t want to be acknowledged, that’s all. It’s a bizarre thing to say but if Mark did find out and decided to do something about it, you think you’d probably want to run away and never be seen again so up until now, you did nothing to earn his attention nor tried anything to have him befriend you.
When you have decided it was time to go after what seemed like forever, you cast a final glance to where Mark and his friends were. They were still inside, no longer having a discussion but rather chatted about where they’re going tonight. It’s Friday after all and you know they always had plans every Friday. You made no effort to follow him when it came to that though… Not when you have no car and for some reason, you didn’t want to find out where he lived even when a friend told you they all lived in a suburban neighbourhood close by the university unlike you who resided on the north side opposite of theirs which required you to take two buses to get home.
It didn’t bother you though.
You’ve always wanted to attend this particular university even if you could have settled for the smaller one ten minutes from home, and if moving there for the sake of your safety (especially on nights like this) was on the table but that would mean you’d have to stop following Mark, you wouldn’t even opt for it. Not even in a heartbeat.
Mark, you find, is like some sort of a God you idolize. You think about him whenever you do anything, especially when you’re studying.
Seeing him be so diligent and fully committed in doing well in school inspired you to do same, if not better. So moving away from him would probably affect you drastically. You’ve had it in your head every passing time whenever you’re met with a possibility of getting physically assaulted or yanked off the streets in the dead of the night from university but whenever you make it back home safe and sound, it gives you some sort relief until it turned into an endless cycle.
And you weren’t going to give it all up.
He was your lucky charm through it all and you’d like to keep pushing until God knows when.
You’re not sure when either but you’re having fun and that’s all that matters, right?
“Yo, let’s go.”
Your gaze flew back to your keyboard, refusing to check whoever walked out of the room.
You waited until they all left, only checking back until you could only make out Mark’s black backpack as they headed downstairs. He wore all black today but kept his navy scrub pants on. You’ve seen him wear full on scrubs from time to time and he looked too great — his broad shoulders causing you to go all numb on the spot.
It was made for him and you couldn’t help but ogle whenever he put on fitted clothes. It gets even worse when you see him with his rugby uniform on, and although it’s a sin to admit what you do after every match you’d voluntarily attend just to see him play, you can’t help but release the ache you feel between your legs. Not only do you love his face but his lean, muscular body too especially his strong thighs.
There have been so many things where you dreamed of him having so close to you, even going as far as doing things to him you’ve never done to a boy before and it only spiralled to constant wet dreams that drove you nuts. It would piss you off quite often too because then you’d think about it whenever you space out in public which yanked you to a sudden jolt of embarrassment coursing through your bloodstream.
He was just so hot, and even if you felt guilty for having those type of sinful thoughts about someone who doesn’t even know you, you think it might be the “thrill” that drew your near the edge.
The thrill of him not knowing…
The thrill of him looking so busy and unbothered just a few feet from you when he gets you all worked up in your imaginations…
He doesn’t even know anything…
Anything at all…
You squeeze your thighs together, sighing under your breath as you waited inside the glass shelter, looking forward to go home and shower — specifically thinking of the new shower head you bought for yourself with different water pressure points, only using it for your pleasure with that one person wrecking havoc in your head like always.
It was fun. So much fun.
You find yourself being his shadow for the next month. It might have gotten worse, you think.
You’ve never touched him though.
By worse, it meant you followed him almost every day but made sure he didn’t actually notice. You were good with your methods especially now that you have car for a while since your mom will be out of town for two months if not more. She gave you the liberty of using it so you can get better at driving especially when it’s now the month of December and it started to snow heavily, making it difficult for you to take the bus home.
You hum, unbuckling your seatbelt as you parked right in front of moon drive in, a diner Mark and the boys frequented to. Sometimes there would be girls tagging along but none of them were with Mark. You did come close to hearing one of them flirt with him though but he’d only laugh it off and you can’t help but snicker to yourself as you listened to their conversations behind your seat.
This would be the fourth time you went. It was originally for the purpose of “following” Mark but you find yourself coming back for your usual — classic fries and a chicken burger paired with a strawberry milkshake.
You even brought one of your friends here last week but tonight you came alone craving a fast food fix. You didn’t even think of Mark at all but much to your surprise, he was actually there with Haechan and Renjun (more names to label very familiar faces) and they were laughing about something you can’t quite pinpoint.
It was around midnight now and you planned to just do a take-out and go straight home so you waited inside, acting oblivious about them being there.
It didn’t take quite long until your take-out bag was ready so you made a move, walking out of the diner and to your car. You think of how gorgeous Mark looked tonight even if it was just a quick glimpse you had greedily stolen before you drove off, a grin on your face.
What you didn’t know though, was when your back was completely turned to them when you were paying for your order, Mark spared you a glance, head tilted to the side.
And when you left, you completely missed the way he smirked at you on your way out.
“Ok, that’s enough studying for me I think my head is about to explode.”
You’re back in the library at the main campus now just a few weeks later. You actually studied without a break this time and took it like a champ even if the exhaustion from your head had mentally taken over, giving you a pounding head ache.
“Are you leaving now?”
You yawned, gesturing towards the clock behind your friend. “It’s almost sunset.”
“Yeah, and I gotta meal prep for next week.” She cleared her side rather quickly. Next thing you know, she was all packed up and ready to go. “Don’t stay in too late ok?”
“Maybe. You know I got a car now so I’d probably overstay.”
She raised a brow with a giggle. “Yeah, yeah you smartass. See you next week then?”
“Sure! Careful on your way out it’s snowing again!”
In a hushed silence, you inwardly groaned and began packing your things up as well to head down the second floor to see if Mark was there. You heard from a friend of a friend of a friend that he had the flu so he might not be there today but it didn’t hurt to check so that’s what you did.
Surprisingly though, a different group took over the room Mark and the boys rented so you made a detour, checking to see if any of them are using the gym tonight. You knew Mark, Jaemin and Jeno would frequent over there and honestly, you might have started having a little crush on Jeno too so you make your way down to the separate complex for that one purpose — if Mark wasn’t there, then Jeno would do, and maybe you can hit up the treadmill for a bit to cross the “stay active” off your to-do list for today.
You don’t even know how your attraction for Jeno started actually. Jeno was always there, all smiley and always bickered with Jaemin but ever since his jet-black hair started growing longer behind his nape, something shifted in his aura and you liked it. He’s just as conventionally attractive as Mark and he too, had a great body. You found out that one time when you saw him doing waterpolo with Jisung which made you go a little crazy.
You don’t know much about him though, so Mark was still your number one of course.
None of the boys were in the gym tonight but since you’ve always wanted to use the treadmill without the gym being too overly crowded, you decided to do just that. You spent forty minutes on it going between slow and vigorous before you called it quits and gunned for the shower to wash away the sweat on your skin.
No one was in the showers so you didn’t bother hiding your modesty, even going as far as being fully naked in the dim-lit hall as you darted in the last stall, music blasting off your phone you left on the bench just a foot away along with your belongings.
You let the warm water cascade down your body, eyes closing at the calming sensation it brought as it washed the sweat and stress away into the drain under your foot. You stayed in until the clear mist from the hot water climbed into the atmosphere, wrapping around you like a cloud of comfort. You then hummed, soaping up the curves of your body as you feel yourself get lost in your thoughts, suddenly thinking of Mark when you snaked your hand to cup your sex, already slick with pure arousal.
You practically shook, feeling how too sensitive you’ve gotten when you continued your erotic ministrations before you slipped in a finger in, a sweet moan spilling out of your throat. You fingered yourself whilst standing, free hand cupping and pinching your hard nipples as you let your fingers do you wonders, ultimately sending you over the edge when you thought of Mark’s skilled tongue playing with your clit before he fucked you with just that, eating you out like a starved man you imagined him to be when eating pussy.
You held yourself, growing weaker against the tiled walls as you slowly regained full consciousness after going through such euphoric state, smiling to yourself. You eventually darted back out, wet hair in a bun and took the elevator because you didn’t have the strength to take the stairs especially after doing all of that.
It was then you realized, as you headed to the front door, that you’re quite stranded in the building for now. The snowstorm had gotten worse. You couldn’t even see anything through the glass walls.
“You waiting for the bus?” The security on site asked. “Doesn’t look that good out there.”
“No, I drove here but… yeah, looks like I gotta wait it out.” You nod your head in agreement, a little pissed off at the sudden turn of events.
You knew the weather was unpredictable lately but you thought it wouldn’t get this bad until tonight.
“Check again in an hour maybe? If not, the library is open 24/7 so… you know how it goes over here.”
You didn’t look forward to that all but if staying here overnight was better, you had no choice. You didn’t want to risk anything, not when you’re still a novice driver. You’d be playing with death if you still chose to suck it up and try to drive in this type of weather.
“Yeah, thanks. Have a good eve sir!”
“You too, young lady.”
You texted your sister about the current weather and how you’d probably get home later or might sleep here overnight if the snowstorm doesn’t lay off with a pursed lip then took another detour, going back upstairs to the lounge area and see if there’s a spot you could rest at for the time-being. You find one overlooking the parking lot where your car is but made sure you’re tucked away from the students preparing for their finals so you can snooze in peace which you succumbed to right away, missing the fact that Mark had gone his way back up, slightly frustrated at the bad weather.
When he saw your sleeping figure hiding in a dark corner though, he could only raise a brow.
Your wristwatch read 10:45 pm by the time you woke up, panic in your eyes when you realized you’ve overslept. The floor you’re currently on had gone too quiet, so quiet you thought you were the only one left if it’s not for a small number of students typing away furiously, one of them sipping on a coffee cup.
The weather had been better so you take that sign to leave, yawning your way to the elevator. You were still quite sleepy and so out of it you haven’t even even realized you were not alone in the elevator as it brought you to the basement when you were meant to press ground floor.
It didn’t even hit you until you simply walked out, met with a plethora of cars only to stop on your tracks, seeing as this was not the ground floor.
You were about to turn around and head back to the elevator when a strong arm yanked you to a dark corner, making you gasp.
“How was it?”
Your eyes rounded in shock as you registered the very familiar face just inches away from yours. You have been caged between his arms, your back to what looked like the sleek, black car he drove to the campus. You weren’t sure if you were still dreaming because if you were, you didn’t want it to end.
“Mark?”
You swallowed a lump in your throat, quite dazed seeing him up close. He’s way too gorgeous, doe-eyes pinning you down. The smell of his clean cologne making you sigh in frenzy, but he didn’t look too happy.
He chuckled darkly, his grip around your wrists tightening like he meant to hurt you.
“I don’t even fucking know you.” He growled, deadly poison coating his words. “You’ve been following me around, haven’t you? How was it? You had fun?”
“N-no.” You lied, your eyes practically quivering in excitement. Was this real life? “I wasn’t following you.”
“I’m not dumb.” He squinted in annoyance, scrutinizing the way you reacted to his confrontation. “What the hell do you want? I even saw you at the diner. It’s not funny anymore.”
You wanted to laugh, but you liked the way his torso brushed against yours. You couldn’t help but to felt something aching in between your thighs again. He came off mean, which is something you didn’t really imagine, but you loved it so much. It drove you to something more sinister so you pressed on, pretending you’re so damn clueless about what he’s trying to get out from you.
Like you were so innocent… So unaware of it all.
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re saying that when you know my name.” He clenched his jaw, losing a bit of his patience due to your playful nature which he didn’t really expect. “Admit it already. You’re caught.”
You could only grin, blinking slowly at him as you watched his chest rise and fall against yours. You could feel your nipples starting to be harden the more he got closer. Oh, how you wished for days like this to come true… You wanted for it be a literal dream but this was so, so much better.
“What if you’re wrong? I could report you.” You joked, watching him attentively. He smelled so damn good you were having a hard time trying to resist him so badly.
“Nothing to report when I have receipts. You think you’re slick?”
Your smile widened. Receipts? So turns out, he was creeping on you too it seems and you don’t know how to feel that, about all of this when you’ve fought so hard to keep your secrets under the wraps, forever tucked away from anyone to see or find out.
But Mark wasn’t oblivious. He knew there was something off when you would show up to his games even if it rained. He asked his team mates if anyone of them knew you but no one did, and for a couple of days he thought it was because you liked watching Rugby until he caught you taking a picture of him walking out of the diner. It all came together when he would notice you occupying the lone table facing the room him and his friends would be at quite often so he took it upon himself to puzzle everything together and made the connection.
There was no last straw, however.
At first, it was quite charming. It was a normal thing for him even in high school with so many girls chasing after him but he started seeing you everywhere he went and that made him a little insane which then lead to a strong desire to confront you, preferably alone without the usual friend you’d come with for study sessions, and much to his dismay, tonight was the good time.
He thought about approaching you about it in nicer way, but the “nice” demeanour had dissipated and he thinks it’s because you’ve started to look at Jeno too.
Was it jealousy?
He didn’t even like you like that. You were an actual stranger to him, so why is he suddenly so worked up about you possibly being into Jeno, too?
“Oh, you keep ‘em?” You tried to wiggle away from his vice grip but he just made it worse, further catering to your suffering. “Hey, you’re gonna leave a bruise on me…”
“Don’t care.” He placed your arms over your head now, your sweet vanilla scent catapulting him away from the scandalous thoughts of him making you suffer as you whined for him to let go but he refused. “Don’t change the subject and answer my damn question. Why are you doing this?”
“I just… like you.” You admitted truthfully, the funny feeling in your stomach making you sigh, eyes searching something in his but all you saw was pure anger mixed with something you hoped might be true. “I didn’t touch you or show up in front of your house so I don’t get why you’re so angry, Markie…”
The pet name.
He thinks his friends wouldn’t let that slip but he knows where you got it from. It wasn’t a play or a coincidence. He knew what you were doing but he couldn’t stop that pet name from rolling out of your tongue. It did nothing but have his blood rush straight to his dick.
“Don’t call me that.” He huffed, too aware of the way your hard nipples pressed against his. “You don’t know who you’re trying to provoke.”
“What do you mean?” You wondered, almost moaning at the hard ridge of his cock pressing on your clothed cunt. You couldn’t believe it. He was so hard. Did he love that pet name so much? “You’re so hard… Are you still angry?”
“Stop!” He suddenly yelled, backing off you when you attempted to grind on him.
You let your hands fall loose to your side, watching his pretty features crumble but his eyes were still burning a hole through your head and you think that if you don’t move now, he might just take you and show you what hell feels like.
“If that’s what you want…”
You diverted your gaze down to his pants, mouth watering at how hard he’s gotten. He looked big and it made the ache between your legs more mind-numbing, your growing wet cunt pulsing around nothing. You gradually advanced to him, testing the waters before pinning him to the wall, the difference between your heights so drastic it almost came off funny but he let you run your hand down from his chest, to his abs then finally, to his hard-on painfully standing upright in his pants.
You’ve never even attempted this to anyone before but suddenly, you had the full reigns of what he started and you weren’t going to let him win.
Or so… you think.
“Stop it…” He exhaled heavily, almost begging as he clamped his eyes close when you bit his ear, licking the shell before you placed an open-mouthed kiss to his jaw, your surging arousal practically bubbling up you think your underwear wouldn’t be able to hold it up if you kept up with this. “I don’t even know you.”
“But you’re reacting quite the opposite.” You stopped to look at him in the eye, yours and his equally blown with nothing but lust. “You like being watched, Markie?”
He didn’t respond as his hands formed into fists. You were just about to kiss him on the neck again when he grabbed you by yours, quickly flipping your positions.
You whimpered in pain when your back collided against the brick wall, about to cuss him out for handling you like that when he crashed his lips into yours. He went in too hard until your bottom lip started to bleed after he bit into your soft flesh, his palm flexed around your little throat, choking you but not enough to render you unconscious.
There was a muffled “mhmff” from you as you pounded your fists against his chest, unable to breathe from how rough he was kissing you like he was about to eat you and swallow you up with no mercy. You were about to bite him back when he lets you go, trapping you against the wall, the sweet taste of his minty mouth mixed with your blood causing you to lick your lip, tasting iron, ignoring the fact that it stung all because of him.
If anything, it didn’t anger you at all but aroused you even more. You liked the fact that he was like this to you.
“I didn’t want to do anything with you.” He declared with a glare, but his next move proved otherwise. “But I’m not letting you touch me like you own me.”
“Don’t you think it’s a bit too late now?”
You didn’t miss the way he came closer and the way he darted his mean gaze from yours and to your bleeding lips. You didn’t even bother wiping it off as you remained still, too entertained with the fact that he just kissed you. Hard.
“Did I give you the green light? No.” He whispered, sounding so cynical. “But I could touch you. You’ve violated me enough so I think it would be fair for me to do this, no?”
You were about to speak when he shut you up with his callused hand tight on your mouth, his free hand snaking down your hip to cup your pussy through your jeans. Your held your breath, knees about to buckle from the way he rubbed you in circles. You were so taken back, the violent rush of pressure sending you over the moon.
“You’re so desperate and insane. You kinda make me go a little crazy, but you don’t deserve to touch me.”
He bit through his words with so much hate as you grew weaker against him, unable to contain the shrill excitement and carnal desire hitting you like a truck. If he kept this up, you would probably cum in your jeans so you started to whine, grinding on his palm and begging for him to do something about it.
“Mark… Please…”
You let out a shaky gasp when he did allow you to speak, his head disappearing into the crook of your neck to kiss you there, way too turned on with the noises you were making and how you’ve gotten so fucking wet he can practically feel it through your jeans. He can’t help but bite your shoulder as he slipped his long, slender fingers inside your jeans groaning at how fucking soaked you were for him, it was almost embarrassing for you but you didn’t care. You wanted him to see how much you desired him.
You attempt to touch him but he quickly swats you away, telling you to keep your hands to yourself.
“I could fuck you with my fingers right now bet it’d just slip right in, huh? You’re fucking wet. Aren’t you ashamed?”
“N-no!” Your head fell back as your knees wobbled. You place your hand on his wrist as he played with your arousal, smearing it all over your clit and pussy lips. “God,”
“Hands off or I won’t fuck you.”
Was all he chided before you let go, keeping your hands flat to the wall as he slipped a finger inside your throbbing hole causing you tear up when he began pumping inside you in a exhilarating speed you thought you were going to pass out from too much pleasure it brought you. It got so bad that you had to cover your mouth, stopping yourself from screaming as the loud squelching of your wetness could be heard between the both of you.
“So fucking tight,” Mark scoffed coldly, liking the way you were taking him in, like your pussy was made for him and his fingers only. He couldn’t help but wonder if you can even take his cock too but he wasn’t going to let you have it easily.
“Faster… p-please!” You closed your eyes, tears falling nonstop you were so sure he’d be able to bring you to the edge with just his fingers. “I’m close, fuck…I’m-m.”
“I know you are, you dirty whore.” He pinned you deeper to the wall, slightly losing it when he felt your walls squeeze him, sucking his fingers further into your warm cunt. “Bet you thought about this in your sleep, right? Is this better? Now that I’m fucking you like this?”
“Yes!” You fisted on his shirt, mouth gaping open as he drove you closer into another orgasm, more powerful than all of the times you touched yourself combined and he hasn’t even fucked you with his cock just yet. “God! Mark, fuck!”
“Dirty fucking mouth you got,” He hissed, pumping his fingers faster and harder, repeatedly hitting your g-spot. “Keep it open if you’re such a good girl.”
Your mouth had gone slack as he coaxed your orgasm closer, your eyes shut tightly as your back arched for him, but just before he could let you cum, he yanked his fingers out of you making you swear out loud in frustration only to have him shove his fingers into your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself.
He loved how flushed you look and he thinks you’re prettier this way — all fucked out from just his fingers.
“You like how you taste?” He snarled, watching you lick the arousal off his middle finger whilst you whimpered at the sudden loss of contact even if you were so damn pissed for being edged like that. “Good, take it all in, yeah?”
“You’re an asshole.” You pulled his fingers out of your mouth with a loud pop followed by a scowl. “I was so close—”
The side of your face suddenly met the wall, Mark having to push you and have both of your arms on the curve of your back. You bite your lip upon realizing what he’s about to do next.
“I’m not that generous.” He placed his knee between your thighs, spreading them wider for him after he pulled your jeans down to your ankles along with your underwear. “Shut the fuck up and behave.”
You feel him move as you braced yourself, your pussy aching for his hard cock to be in you when you see him kneel on one knee behind you. You were about to say something when his tongue delved into your pussy, flicking it up and down to your folds, his hands grabbing a handful of your ass, groping you from behind.
“Fuck-fuck! S-so good, so good-d Mark…”
You babbled, right fist thumping to the wall with your left fully unzipping your coat so you could slither your free hand inside your shirt to cup one of your breasts as he slipped his tongue inside your wet hole, quickly bringing you back to the peak of your orgasm. You felt him lap your wetness in your pussy lips like how you’d imagined him to do, one of your hands going down south to play with your now swollen clit, ultimately sending you to you to the edge.
You hear Mark swear behind you as he stood back up, slapping your ass when your legs shook uncontrollably. You took a sharp breath before squirting right on the cement and on his shoes, your hand still putting pressure on your clit, rubbing it in fast circles, spurts of clear liquid draining out of you too violently.
You thought you actually blacked out, only gaining full consciousness after you had squirted in front of him, the sound of him unbuckling his belt faint to your ears. It didn’t register that he was actually going to give it to you until he shoved his cock inside your soiled pussy in one go, the sudden stretch burning you. You nearly screamed and toppled over only to have him shut you up as he began pounding into you relentlessly, cursing at how good you took him so well.
“Fuck, I wasn’t gonna give it to you but you squirted you cockslut! so, so desperate for me huh? Is that it?”
His breathing shallowed as he tried not to cum inside you right there and then. You were so damn wet and too tight around him it felt amazing, way too amazing he thought he was going to lose it for a minute there but he fought to control himself, wanting to fuck you dumb and watch you cry as you struggle with his size.
“M-Mark!” You moaned loudly in defeat as you tried to open wider for him, his big cock rendering you numb and helpless like how he wanted it. “Wait, shit! God… oh my god…”
You pressed your hand on top of his which was now loose on your mouth until you urged him to slide his index finger inside the wet cavern of your sweet mouth, sucking on it to suppress your cries, tears dripping down your cheeks and on the floor along with the pool of your arousal from squirting minutes ago.
You whimpered pitifully, too overwhelmed with the brutal burn of his cock inside you as he fucked you faster and harder than before until your slick wetness coated his entire cock, the sound of skin slapping echoing off the walls. It wasn’t so long until the both of you finally reached your climax— with you coming hard first and out of nowhere which led him to spill his cum inside you after telling him you were clean and on pill which made it so, so much better.
You remained still, catching your breath as he collapsed on your back, his nose nuzzling your nape. The whole aftermath felt almost romantic, you thought.
“You keep my cum inside you like a good girl so you can keep a memory of me when you get home, yeah?”
He whispered in your ear with a certain bite, tone so wicked it brought shivers down your spine, and when it was time to face him after shamefully tugging your underwear back up, careful not to spill any of his cum out of you, you weren’t sure what to do so you wait until he fixed himself up before saying something.
“Hey.”
You tried to smile, but you were still so high from having sex with him in the basement parking lot you couldn’t help but to chuckle, not believing that this, in fact, actually happened.
“Don’t think we’re friends or anything.” He said, not looking at you as he smoothed his shirt down from you fisting on it earlier. “Don’t even know you like that.”
For some reason, you had already accepted it and seen it like that but still, you knew he had truthfully enjoyed this too. You can tell from how he’s looking at you right now or so you hoped.
“But can I… still like you?” There was a crack in your voice. Your round eyes practically begging him to change his mind about you.
“Sure, just stop liking Jeno.”
You stared at him in confusion, unable to discern how he came up with such accusation but it tickled your fancy. It actually made you tilt your head to down, tongue poking the side of your mouth, clearly amused upon realizing what he meant by that.
Guess you were so bad at hiding your tracks…
“Jeno?” You teased. “Your friend?”
“Stop liking him and I might just give it to you again. That’s it.”
“Oh, Markie,” You drawled seductively, the pink hue of your fair cheeks from post-sex rendering Mark sort off in trance-like state. You’re a pretty face for sure and he can’t deny that after all. “You only want me to be for you? As your play toy? How did you know?”
You attempt to touch his face only for him to grab your wrist with a vicious sneer.
“Don’t think you’re the only one watching.”
A sardonic grin graced his beautiful face, distracting you for a moment before he pulled you closer to him as if it was such a natural thing to do, his lips already brushing lightly to the shell of your ear to whisper what seemed to be a dire warning — like a harsh brewing storm about to wash you away and drown you into an endless abyss you can no longer escape out of.
“I’ve been watching you too.” Your mouth parted upon his confession as he nipped on your ear, his arms wrapping around your waist, fully claiming you. “…And I might be worse.”
A. N | Mark is currently bias wrecking me so hard right now I’m literally fighting for my life so I just had to let my frustrations out by writing this in one sitting. :)
#mark lee smut#mark smut#nct smut#mark lee x you#mark lee x reader#mark x reader#kpop smut#nct 127 smut#nct dream smut#markleeyoumakemecraaaazy#killshotbabe#one shot smut
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