#the farmers market is ending and it's time to take down
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First Light ~ Simon "Ghost" Riley Part 6
Pairing: bodyguard!Ghost x princess!reader (fem!reader)
Word Count: 3.2k
CW: angst, violence, blood, strong language, scars, verbal abuse by parents, physical abuse by parents, psychological abuse by parents, opposites attract, forbidden love, slow burn, fluff, attraction and sexual tension, reader POV and ghost POV, minors DNI, smut, virgin reader, praising, kisses, porn
Let me know if I missed any CWs.
Story Synopsis: After receiving death threats from a mysterious terrorist organization, your royal parents make a decision to reach out to the United States for help. Specifically, they want the US to send a bodyguard to protect their precious princess. When the 141 is called upon to investigate, Ghost is the one assigned to protect you. With your lack of experiences outside of your royal life and his experience with nothing but deadly, worldly affairs, opposites attract.
Chapter Synopsis: Ever since the kiss you shared with your bodyguard, your imagination has been running wild with naughty fantasies and curiosities. You decide to learn more on your own, but Ghost is willing to teach you himself. (SMUT ALERT)
Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3 ~ Part 4 ~ Part 5 ~ Part 6
Ghost stared intensely at the report that was just sent his way from his team. Gaz had managed to catch the tagger from the farmer’s market. Interrogation led to their real identity, some associates, and a map marking the other spots that intended to be staked out by the group. And all of this was really thanks to you for noticing the tagger fleeing the scene. If you weren’t so observant, they wouldn’t have made as much progress with this investigation as they have.
Hopefully, it wouldn’t take long for more terrorists to be caught. If progress continued this smoothly, then it wouldn’t take long for the 141 to be done with this job. Then again, the sooner that this job ended, the sooner he would have to say goodbye to you.
The torn lieutenant looked up from his seat at the dining kitchen towards the living room. He was looking at the back of your head, hair up in that hair clip you seem to adore, wrapped up in a good book that you found around the safehouse. Luckily, the safehouse was decently stocked with things for you to do. It was never difficult finding a way to entertain yourself while Ghost worked.
Neither you nor Ghost have brought up the kiss. You thought it would be hard meeting his gaze after that kiss followed by what you so naughtily did privately in your bedroom. And it was. Every time you thought about him, your heart threatened to leap from your chest. Butterflies went haywire in your stomach. It was only your training as a princess that you were able to keep up with appearances.
Not that you weren’t thinking about so much more in that curious head of yours in your moments of refinement. Every now and then your mind would wander towards more naughty thoughts. If that was how a kiss felt, how good would it feel to go further? To have his kisses pepper your neck down to your breasts. To feel his large, warm hands against your bare, electrified skin. To have his fingers trace down your spine and make you shiver.
Little did you know that Ghost was having the same thoughts as you.
He was also struggling with completely getting the kiss out of his mind. How perfect it felt to have your body press against his. How sweet you tasted on his tongue. How quick he seemed to get aroused just from kissing you alone. He wanted to take it further not just physically, but emotionally as well. He’s grown rather attached to you since the day he realized that you were more than just a princess and a mission.
Ghost wanted you to be his completely. But he knew that that would be a huge mistake.
The both of you were like polar opposites. Ghost came from a world of gunfire while you came from the world of champagne glasses. He could offer you safety, but never security. Not with his job. While he did his best to stay alive, he never knew if one day could be his last. You didn’t deserve to live with that on your shoulders.
A quiet sigh was suppressed as Ghost got up from his seat. Slowly, he strolled over to you and put a hand on your shoulder, gently pulling your attention away from your book. You knew that he was approaching, though. It was like you developed super senses when it came to his presence now.
“Gonna go check the perimeter. You okay staying here?”
You enthusiastically hummed in response, not wanting him to worry too much about leaving you alone for a moment. Your bodyguard has been frequently going outside the safehouse to check the perimeter. It was part of his job, however, you were quick to understand that it was to also get some fresh air.
When you finally heard the sound of the front door clicking shut, you closed your book and grabbed the remote to the television. Today was the day you were going to watch something incredibly new today. Something you have been curious about before and have grown even more curious about since your feelings for Ghost grew.
You were going to look at porn for the first time.
With a time limit of about twenty minutes, you planned to make every second count. Nothing too crazy. Just the basics. Just enough time to see what all the fuss is about and hopefully learn something new. Smut within books every now and then have been enjoyable to read. Though watching videos of the real thing was sure to feel different than reading words on a page to imagine in your head.
Quickly, you connected to the protected internet on the television and pulled up what was trending on a major porn channel that was listed first in your search. Without hesitation, the channel offered videos upon videos of explicit content. Your eyes widened and your heart quickened at the crude thumbnails depicting all sorts of actions. A harsh heat reddened your cheeks, embarrassed by what you saw. Yet, you couldn’t look away.
It was fascinating to you how many options there actually were. This was just the first channel you came across too. There seemed to be porn for just about anything. Scrolling through, you felt your blood continue to heat up. A subtle, sweet tingle between your legs began as you examined the thumbnails closer. Most of the videos being offered depicted actors that seemed to be enjoying themselves, job or not.
Did sex really feel that good?
Ensuring that the television was on mute, you opened a video up at random and observed. There was kissing. Deep kissing like the ones you shared with your bodyguard just a few days ago. Things became more hot and heavy once the actors began to strip.
You gasped at all the touching and groping the stars did to each other. How excited the beautiful woman looked as her partner kissed down her body. Squeezing your thighs tightly together, you tried not to get too swept up in becoming aroused yourself just from watching.
There was no doubt about it, though. You were getting wet. Your brain was replacing the actors with you and Ghost too. Lightheadedness came over you as your body burned with lust. No wonder why everyone was so obsessed with porn.
You took a quick glance at the clock and turned the television off, deciding that it was best for you to move to your private bedroom. There was still time before Ghost would come back from his perimeter check, so that meant you had time to calm yourself down before he noticed anything amiss.
After entering your bedroom and closing the door, you hesitantly slipped your hand down your pants to check yourself.
And of course, you were soaked.
You knew you shouldn’t be embarrassed since this kind of thing was Taking a deep breath, you moved to the bed to try to relieve yourself before your bodyguard returned. The last thing you wanted was for him to walk in on a sight you wouldn’t be able to explain away.
~
Ghost took a big whiff of fresh air, letting the clean air refresh his brain. His perimeter checks have been mostly for keeping his thoughts straight. It was hard to keep them organized when he was within your sweet presence. However, he still thought about you. Always. Even when he was ensuring your safety like this.
He glanced at the watch on his wrist, noting the time to add to the report he’s been working on to prove that he wasn’t just lazing around. In fact, he’s been trying to find some work to do whenever he could to ensure he kept a safe distance from you. Keep it professional despite growing closer. Besides that, he didn’t want you to feel awkward about the kiss you shared.
Thankfully, you seemed to be doing just fine as far as he’s noticed.
After taking one last look around the countryside, trying to spot anything suspicious, Ghost headed back inside. When he saw that you were absent from the couch, a brief moment of panic set in. It was the sight of the book you were reading, carefully closed and bookmarked on the coffee table, that allowed him to relax. You were probably taking a nap in your room, he figured.
Taking advantage of the moment, he fixed himself a cup of tea in the kitchen. Once his brew was ready, he brought his cup over to the couch. He settled himself down and reached for the remote to watch some news. Life didn’t slow down just because he was out in the middle of nowhere. As soon as the television turned on though, he choked on his drink.
Someone forgot to exit the channel before turning off the television.
Ghost was suddenly met with thumbnails upon thumbnails of porn. Nothing telling of your tastes since it was just the trending page, yet it was still a shock to the eyes. He couldn’t help but laugh a little in his surprise. It didn’t take long for him to piece together that you probably weren’t in your room just taking a nap.
Before Ghost switched the channel, though, he looked through the options of explicit videos. He understood that you probably have never seen porn before, so this was another one of your “research” sessions. That’s not what started to bother him.
What started to bother him was the fact that you shouldn’t be getting your sex education from porn. If you wanted to know what it was really like, you could’ve just asked him. He may not have had many partners in his life, but he still knew the real experience. You deserved to know what real, healthy sex was like. Not filmed, directed sex.
That, and a princess like you should set her standards high when it came to sex. Something Ghost was willing to set for you.
Even if this was wrong, he didn’t care. If the mission was going to end soon and he would have to say goodbye, he wanted to ensure that you would still accept nothing but the best in and outside the bedroom. He wanted you to ensure that you would end up with someone that would treat you right.
Someone like him.
Turning off the television, Ghost abandoned his tea and headed toward your bedroom. He softly knocked on your door and waited, hoping that he didn’t catch you too off guard.
As soon as you heard the knock, you jumped in fright, leaving you right on the edge of an orgasm that you finally managed to approach. Ghost was back early. You should’ve cared to listen closer to the sound of him coming back in the house.
You fixed your clothes hastily, cheeks still flushed pink from your solo sexual adventure. Shyly, you opened the door to greet your patient bodyguard. Clearing your throat, you spoke in that usual, refined manner that you trained yourself to use to cover up evidence of inelegance. “Yes, Lieutenant?”
“We have something to talk about. May I come in, Princess?” Ghost treaded carefully, not wanting to startle you, but also not wanting to offer an opportunity of complete rejection just yet. You opened the door wider to let him in, your heart and mind racing on what Ghost could possibly need to talk about.
He sat on the edge of your bed and patted the spot next to him. Timidly, you took a seat beside him. The naturally sweet scent of yours almost made Ghost pull you into his lap. It was like he was obsessed with you. It almost unsettled how deeply he fell for you.
Once you seemed comfortable, he began without that careful language he had learned to speak when he was with you. It was better to be himself about this, especially if he wanted to get what he wanted. Straight-forward. “You forgot to reset the TV. I saw what you were looking at when I came back from my perimeter check.”
Your body suddenly heated up as if a wave of fire washed over you. Cheeks turned scarlet and you nearly couldn’t breath. The way he was speaking so bluntly with you caught you off guard as well. Words were trapped in your throat. What does someone say in this situation?!
That gaze of yours that Ghost wanted on him was averted in embarrassment. He couldn’t blame you, but he wasn’t going to let you escape either. He had a standard he had to set for you.
He took your chin to guide your eyes back on him. By now it felt like your heart was going to give out with how hard it was beating.
“You really wanna know what sex is like?”
You could have sworn his voice lowered to seduce you. It felt huskier as it echoed in your ears. It was working too. Your mind immediately screamed to say yes, to take what was being offered to you. Though, you stopped yourself from taking the opportunity. This didn’t even feel real. You swallowed down the lump in your throat before speaking. “Lieutenant G-”
“Simon Riley. It’s okay to call me by my real name, Princess. It’s also a simple yes or no. Do you want to know what it’s like? How you should be treated?”
Biting your lip, you thought deeply about this proposal. If you were to say yes, you and Ghost would be crossing so many boundaries that you might not recover from. The kiss was something the both of you were able to seemingly recover from. But that was small compared to sex.
Especially since you were still a virgin.
God, did you want him though. You really, really wanted him. You probably wanted him more than anything in your life.
Finally, you justified that you could keep a secret. Ghost certainly could too. You trusted him. Meekly, you gave him the answer he was hoping for. “Y-Yes. Please, be gentle. . .”
Within a blink of an eye, he pulled you into his lap and held you close. Removing the mask revealed a more clear, confident sea within his eyes. “Of course. I’ll teach you everything you want to know.”
His lips pressed firmly against yours, not being able to be apart from you a moment longer. Damn, he’s missed those soft lips of yours. He missed the heat of your body against his. It felt like it’s been ages since the last time you kissed. He felt determined to get his fill before it was too late.
Your own senses were ignited like fireworks, tingles making its way down all the way to the tips of your fingers that held onto your bodyguard for dear life. Having been left on the edge of orgasm from before made you feel more sensitive than usual too. You felt every inch of his lips, every movement of his hands tracing your curves. It was difficult to suppress all the pleasurable shivers he gave you.
When he slipped his tongue into your mouth, you moaned, a sharp pleasure traveling down your spine. That only encouraged Simon to take it a step further. Your shirt was raised slightly, giving him enough room to touch your bare skinned hips with his hands. Your skin was soft beyond belief that it drove him wild.
By now you were struggling to catch your breath, his kisses becoming more intense as he was able to touch you without the barrier of your shirt. He kissed you with such need, passion, and desire that it made your head spin. He ate up every moan that escaped you like it would be the last time he would be able to.
You were gripping his shoulders so tight that your nails dug into his skin. But he wouldn’t have it any other way. It only made him want more. He broke the kiss and went straight to your ear, making sure that your breasts were tightly pressed against his chest. There was no escape for you as he teased your ears with sweet words in that deep baritone voice you grew to love. All while his hands worked to massage your bare waist.
“You should be kissed passionately like you are the most beautiful woman on this planet. Your partner should take their time to find all your sweet spots too.” Simon advised, his lips grazing your ears as he spoke.
Your breath got caught in your throat as he told you how much you should be treasured. How soft your skin was underneath his fingertips. How decadent your kisses tasted to the point that he needed more. How your future partner should treat you just like this.
Finally, he could kiss that neck that he’s been dying to kiss every time you put your hair up. His lips landed on your neck, causing you to tremble as he licked, nipped, and suckled. It was heavenly. Underneath you, you could feel his growing erection pressing into you. Even underneath his jeans, you could tell that he was big. It filled you with a newfound sense of pride that you could arouse someone as serious as your bodyguard. He was attracted to you as much as you were attracted to him.
Slowly, Simon began to tip you back within his lap, forcing you to hang on to him if you didn’t want to fall. He took advantage of the position, trailing his kisses down to your collarbone and nearing your breasts. His hand supported the curve of your back, gravity allowing him to really feel every shiver that passed through you.
“They should make you tremble in pleasure just like this. They should want to press their lips against every inch of your skin. They should get excited by giving you pleasure first.” He continued to confess as he nipped at the tops of your breasts. He was driving you crazy with each touch, your cunt dripping wet like he’s been teasing you for hours.
Suddenly, he swung you around and laid you down onto the bed. Simon hovered over you with a sexy smirk on his face.
“If you want more, then strip for me, Princess.”
#ghost x f!reader#ghost x female reader#ghost x you#simon ghost riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley fanfic#ghost x y/n#cod fanfic#ghost x reader#simon ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon riley#simon riley x you#simon riley smut#simon riley fanfic#ghost call of duty#ghost cod#ghost mw2
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Legit though, we should start turning ecosystem restoration and work to make our world more tolerant to the effects of climate change into annual holidays and festivals
Like how just about every culture used to have festivals to celebrate the beginning of the harvest or its end, or the beginning of planting, or how whole communities used to host barn raisings and quilting bees - everyone coming together at once to turn the work of months or years into the work of a few days
Humble suggestions for festival types:
Goat festival
Besides controlled burns (which you can't do if there's too much dead brush), the fastest, most effective, and most cost-efficient way to clear brush before fire season - esp really heavy dead brush - is to just. Put a bunch of goats on your land for a few days!
Remember that Shark Tank competitor who wanted to start a goat rental company, and everyone was like wtf? There was even a whole John Oliver bit making fun of the idea? Well THAT JUST PROVES THEY'RE FROM NICE WET PLACES, because goat rental companies are totally a thing, and they're great.
So like. Why don't we have a weekend where everyone with goats just takes those goats to the nearest land that needs a ton of clearing? Public officials could put up maps of where on public lands grazing is needed, and where it definitely shouldn't happen. Farmers and people/groups with a lot of acres that need clearing can post Goat Requests.
Little kids can make goat-themed crafts and give the goats lots of pets or treats at the end of the day for doing such a good job. Volunteers can help wrangle things so goats don't get where they're not supposed to (and everyone fences off land nowadays anyway, mostly). And the goats, of course, would be in fucking banquet paradise.
Planting Festival and Harvest Festival
Why mess with success??? Bring these back where they've disappeared!!! Time to swarm the community gardens and help everyone near you with a farm make sure that all of their seeds are sown and none of the food goes to waste in the fields, decaying and unpicked.
And then set up distribution parts of the festival so all the extra food gets where it needs to be! Boxes of free lemons in front of your house because you have 80 goddamned lemons are great, but you know what else would be great? An organized effort to take that shit to food pantries (which SUPER rarely get fresh produce, because they can't hold anything perishable for long at all) and community/farmer's markets
Rain Capture Festival
The "water year" - how we track annual rainfall and precipitation - is offset from the regular calendar year because, like, that's just when water cycles through the ecosystems (e.g. meltwater). At least in the US, the water year is October 1st through September 30th of the next year, because October 1st is around when all the snowmelt from last year is gone, and a new cycle is starting as rain begins to fall again in earnest.
So why don't we all have a big barn raising equivalent every September to build rain capture infrastructure?
Team up with some neighbors to turn one of those little grass strips on the sidewalk into a rain-garden with fall-planting plants. Go down to your local church and help them install some gutters and rain barrels. Help deculvert rivers so they run through the dirt again, and make sure all the storm drains in your neighborhood are nice and clear.
Even better, all of this - ESPECIALLY the rain gardens - will also help a ton with flood control!
I'm so serious about how cool this could be, yall.
And people who can't or don't want to do physical stuff for any of these festivals could volunteer to watch children or cook food for the festival or whatever else might need to be done!
Parties afterward to celebrate all the good work done! Community building and direct local improvements to help protect ourselves from climate change!
The possibilities are literally endless, so not to sound like an influencer or some shit, but please DO comment or reply or put it in the notes if you have thoughts, esp on other things we could hold festivals like this for.
Canning festivals. "Dig your elderly neighbors out of the snow" festivals. Endangered species nesting count festival. Plant fruit trees on public land and parks festival. All of the things that I don't know anywhere near enough to think of. Especially in more niche or extreme ecosystems, there are so many possibilities that could do a lot of good
#climate change#climate action#climate crisis#climate hope#solarpunk#hopepunk#hope posting#community building#ecosystem#ecosystem restoration#forest fire#fire prevention#flood#flood prevention#harvest#harvest festival#regenerative agriculture#modern farming#water conservation#meteorology#festival#not news#hope#climate optimism
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Can I request SAGAU with reader coming into Teyvat but being very hush hush about it and they get a job at Wangshu inn or something but one day they end up cutting themselves and boom golden blood? Sorry if this is too specific
Don’t apologize, I love this idea!
I have so many ideas for this one ranging from crack to angst hskakdk
Let’s say that all the documents about the creator have vague descriptions so they aren’t too sure about your appearance. The only key signs of being the creator are golden blood and crystal like tears.
I hope you like it! I think this may be my first request ^.^
—
Yandere!SAGAU x Secret!Creator!Reader Part 1
Your arrival to Teyvat is sudden. One second you had fallen asleep at your desk after a long night. The next second you lift your head and you’re in a completely new environment.
Surrounded by greens and vegetables you note you’re on some sort of farm. You warily get off the ground, dusting off the dirt from your clothes. You look around hoping to figure out where and how you had ended up in this unfamiliar place.
However, what catches your eyes in the dimly lit farm, is a little glowing blue figure floating wispily.
A seelie?
Your heart drops and your eyes squint through the dark taking in more of your surroundings. Your eyes finally land on a large statue in the distance.
Your thoughts are confirmed as you drop to your knees, eyes locked on a Geo Statue of the Seven.
You’ve read the stories, you know what happens.
“Hello? Who is out there?” a shaky voice calls out. You want to get up and run but the shock kept you in place.
An old man makes his way over, holding a lantern over you. The light illuminates your worry-stricken face. Thoughts run wild in your head as the old man helps you into his home.
Not wanting to risk being chased by all these powerful characters thinking you’re an imposter, while also afraid of being confined by obsessive acolytes, you think it’s best that your arrival to Teyvat is kept a secret.
The farmer that found you, a widowed man with no offspring, decides to take you in. To avoid feeling like a burden, you help out the old man in anyway you can, starting with farming. As if the land is trying to show their love for you, the vegetables you plant grow absurdly quick. They grow larger than the farmer had ever seen before. Vegetables farmed by your hand come out with the perfect texture and consistency. To the farmer, you’re like an angel descended from the skies.
It isn’t long before the old farmer’s business booms with the best vegetables in the market. However, he’s become too old and it’s become too difficult for him to transport all of these vegetables from his isolated little home to the shops down in Liyue Harbor.
You volunteer to do it for him. It’s the least you could do in return for him letting you stay rent free. Despite your willingness, you still can’t fight the anxiousness that comes with traveling in Teyvat.
The first time you enter Liyue Harbor, your hands are so sweaty you nearly drop the boxes of vegetables you are holding. Staying the whole day to sell vegetables in Liyue Harbor means that you are exposed. But when you finally came across your favorite characters, you realize you worried for nothing.
You first meet the Traveler and Paimon. The exchange is simple. They buy a few of your vegetables then leave to Wanmin restaurant to use the stove to cook some meals.
Then you meet Xiao. One day, a group of Hilichurl’s almost attack you while you are transporting goods to Liyue Harbor. He quickly wipes them out while you hide behind the cart you are pushing. Xiao simply looks at you for no more than 5 seconds before disappearing.
After that, the worry of your face being recognized begins to fade. If it weren’t for your oddly golden blood, you would have forgotten that you’re the creator.
You become accustomed to living life in Teyvat. It is peaceful. No exams or deadlines. Such simple tasks done day by day. You spend one day farming and the next transporting vegetables. You sit at your little shop selling items before heading home and helping out the old man. It’s not super easy but it’s a lot less stressful than your life before.
Everyday you get to bask in the sunlight and enjoy fresh air while you admire the scenery you had only ever seen through a screen. You are content and happy.
Until one day you accidentally make the smallest mistake.
Xiangling is a regular of yours. Your vegetables are by far the best she’s ever had and you quickly become her source of ingredients for her dishes. She speaks so highly of you that Zhongli, one of the characters you fear most, decides to drop by your little shop.
His presence is intimidating with his golden eyes peering down at you and his tall stature towering over your little stall.
Despite his slightly domineering presence, his voice is as smooth and soothing as you remember it to be and you’re able to calm down enough to treat him like any of your other customers. You’ve already met many characters and none of them were able to recognize you. How could he be any different?
Except he’s not like the others.
He’s nearly 6000 years old. He’s seen things others haven’t and most importantly, he’s worshipped the existence of the creator far longer than any of the Liyue Citizens have been alive.
From the very beginning, he sensed that there was something different about you. Something familiar and oddly inviting. The former Geo Archon thought he knew everyone residing in Liyue but it’s his first time coming across you.
His eyes can’t help but follow your every move as you wrap up his box of vegetables. You finally finish tying up his box with some sturdy rope and grab a knife to cut off the long ends. Just as you’re cutting the rope, your hand slips.
The sharp knife slices shallowly into your opposite hand. Zhongli is only barely able to catch a glimpse of gold before you drop to the floor.
It isn’t the pain that’s brought you to your knees but the fear. You crouch over your hands, covering the wound as best as you can hoping with all your being that he hasn’t seen anything.
Both you and Zhongli can feel your hearts beating faster than ever before.
“Are you alright?”
The former Geo Archon attempts to walk over to the other side of the stall, when he hears the Traveler call his name. His attention wavers and it gives you just enough time to wipe your blood away and stuff the handkerchief into your pocket.
Zhongli glances at you amidst his conversation just to see you finish covering your wound with a bandage. Any trace of blood is gone and the wound is completely covered.
He walks away from the Traveler to speak with you. The geo archon’s eyes never once leave your hand as he stands in front of you.
“Is your wound alright?”
You nod waving your hand a little.
“Just a small wound,” you say, hoping he’d accept your answer and move on.
But he isn’t satisfied.
“Are you sure? It look like it hurt. It’s important to put some cream on it so it doesn’t get infected.”
“Of course! I’m a lot stronger than you think.” You smile before repeating his total. The Traveler ends up paying for the vegetables and the two leave, but not without Zhongli glancing a few more times at you.
When his figure completely fades, your smile drops.
It seems you’ve stayed a bit too long in Liyue.
Shaky hands clumsily pack up your stall as you race to close up the shop early and quickly head home before the Geo Archon decides to return.
While you rush, you don’t notice the small white handkerchief falling out of your pocket nor do you realize that the small piece of cloth would be the sole cause of the upcoming chaos that erupts throughout the nations of Teyvat.
Next
#genshin impact#yandere genshin#yandere#yandere sagau#sagau#self aware genshin#zhongli#morax#archons#traveler#yandere x reader#sagau x reader#yandere sagau x reader#raiden#childe#xiao#venti#scaramouche#yanderexreader#liyue#ayato#hu tao#genshin x reader#kazuha#diluc#alhaitham#genshin cult au#acolytes#creator#creator reader
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Peaches n' Cream
Joel Miller x f!reader (pre/no outbreak)
Summary: You like peaches and Joel like watching you eat them.
Warnings: no use of y/n, smut, established relationship, (semi) public / outdoor sex, fingering, oral (f receiving), ass play, spitting, choking sliiightt daddy kink, one mention of Joel being pick up reader (but tbh he's strong af he can pick anyone up), absolutely no plot here Joel is just depraved and in love <3
w/c: 6k of pwp : )
a/n: I'm back!! And LISTEN! I knowwww I said Javi was next but the grip this man has on me is unreal and the peaches at the farmers market got me thinking about things!! Pls let me know if you liked this and my asks are always open to chat!!
my masterlist
The little stand was set up on the side of the road, just one old farmer and his tall piles of crates filled to the brim with peaches.
Images of you in the grocery store a couple weeks ago flash in Joel’s head, standing in front of the display brimming with peaches with your arms crossed over your chest and your bottom lip jutting out in a slight pout.
“They’re not the good ones”
“They look fresh” Joel states as he takes turns squeezing each peach to test the firmness. “What’s wrong with ‘em?”
“It’s still May” you replied
Joel just looked at you, eyebrows pinched together and completely lost on the point you were trying to make.
“They won't be as sweet. They're the best at the end of June” you answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“Sorry, not caught up on my peach facts I guess”
You just roll your eyes and walk away, leaving Joel amused at how intensely you felt about the little fruits.
But now it’s the last week of June. And as soon as he sees the stand there’s a rush of excitement thinking about the big smile you’d have for him when he walked through the door with a bag of fresh peaches.
He pulls onto the shoulder of the road and parks his truck behind the line of the four other cars stopping for the same reason. The Texas sun is beating down on him, sweat prickling on the back of his neck in mere seconds as he waits patiently for the people in front of him to have their pick.
And when it’s his turn, he takes his time because of course it has to be perfect for you. He wasn’t looking for another peach lecture.
“How d’ya pick out the ripest ones?” he asks the farmer.
He listens carefully as the other man tells him how to spot the best ones, taking mental notes on everything from the ideal firmness to the hue of the skin, even down to the smell. And he took the advice on getting a few that were ready to eat today and a few less ripe ones that you could eat a few days from now. After a few more minutes, he’s walking back to the truck carrying a paper bag filled to the top with peaches.
When he gets home, he grabs a beer from the fridge then rinses the biggest peach from the bag under the kitchen tap. He has a direct line of sight through the window above the sink to where you’re laying out on the pool chair, the sight of you in your little skimpy bikini sent a little tingle down his spine.
“Hey, baby” Joel calls out, shielding his eyes from the hot Texas sun. You turn and face him with a grin as he walks over to you.
“Got something for you” Joel announces with a smile, holding out the peach to you.
Your face lights up exactly how he imagined it would. But it’s a thousand times better in person. The way you smile so big that the corners of your eyes crinkle and the way your eyes twinkle with amazement makes his heart swell in his chest.
You scramble to sit up and take the fruit out of his hand. He strokes your hair then leans down to press a kiss to your forehead before sitting on the lounge chair next to yours.
“Where’d you get these?” you ask, lifting up your sunglasses to get a proper look. “They look perfect”
Joel laughs, trying not to puff out his chest in confidence.
“That peach stand up the road is finally open” he answers. “Got a whole bag for you inside”
Joel chuckles again at your small squeal of excitement as you shoot up from your seat and bounce over towards him. You stand between his spread knees and lean down to kiss him.
His heart feels warm and gooey in his chest as he kisses you, his hands immediately finding the back of your thighs, your skin so warm from sitting out in the sun all day.
He swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, his head spinning a bit when he tastes your strawberry chapstick mixed with a hint of chlorine from the pool. His grip on your thighs tightens slightly and he sighs with delight when you part your lips and let him in, his heart melting when he feels you smile against his lips.
He stays in the moment for a few more seconds before tapping your thigh and pulling back.
“Try it. Wanna see if you like ‘em” he says before reaching for his beer sitting on the small side table.
Joel’s heart skips a beat when you bite your lip and smile as you sit back down on your chair, facing him and crossing your legs underneath you.
You sink your teeth into the reddish skin of the perfectly ripe peach. The sweet nectar immediately floods your mouth, so juicy that it quickly starts running past your lips to drip down your chin and over your fingers. You moan softly in delight, your eyelids fluttering shut at the taste.
“It’s perfect” you say around a mouthful of peach.
You take your time, savoring each bite. But to Joel it feels like you're on a mission to kill him on the spot.
He has a death grip on his beer bottle as he watches you, groaning quietly when a few drops fall onto your bare legs. You, none the wiser, giggle innocently at the mess you’re making before taking another bite. More juice spills over your knuckles and trickles down your fingers to your wrist and forearm, the small rivulets twinkling on your skin in the sunlight.
Joel is about to pass out.
He takes a few gulps of his beer, downing almost half the bottle in one go before setting it down on the small table between the two chairs.
“C’mere, peaches” Joel says, patting his thigh.
You happily oblige and get up to sit in his lap, your thighs on either side of his.
“You wanna bite?” you ask with a sweet smile.
“Don’t need a bite, baby” Joel responds, reaching to grab your forearm. “Got my own right here.”
He brings his lips to your wrist, pressing gentle kisses to your sticky skin and licking up the sweet juice. You giggle when the hairs of his mustache and scruffy beard tickle your skin, the sensation sending a a hot wave of arousal washing over you, head to toe.
Your heart flutters in your chest as he kisses up your wrist to the back of your hand, placing a wet kiss to each of your knuckles before pulling back and opening his eyes to look at you again.
A lopsided, dopey grin spreads across his face at the sight in front of him. You’re looking back at him through hooded eyes, the apples of your cheeks dusted pink as a dazed smile tugs at the corner of your red, wet lips.
“Finish” Joel commands simply with a crooked smile.
And you do. You go back to finishing the fruit while Joel’s gaze falls to your legs. He runs a thumb over the sticky drops of juice on your thigh, using his thumb to rub it into your warm skin with slow circles until the liquid dries up. He then switches to sliding his calloused palms up and down your thighs, his fingertips brushing the edges of your swim bottoms with every pass.
Sitting in the sun all day already made your brain hazy and Joel’s dilated eyes boring into you aren’t exactly helping. Neither is his bulge twitching against your clothed core with every slurping and sucking sound you make as you let the juice run freely over your knuckles and down your chin, no longer caring about the mess.
When you finish, Joel promptly plucks the pit out of your hand and sets it on the side table. He then turns back towards you and brings his thumb up to wipe up the drop of juice at the corner of your mouth.
“Was it good, sweetheart?” he asks, sliding his thumb between your lips.
Your eyelashes flutter as you immediately roll your tongue over his thumb, sucking the juice off before nodding slowly. You let him press down your tongue, his eyes wide and glued to your lips before you pull off his finger with a wet pop.
“Delicious” you say with a sated smile. You lean forward, until your lips are inches away from his. “You wanna taste, daddy?”
You giggle when he groans quietly underneath you.
“S’that even a question? ‘Course I do, peaches.”
The next second, his hand is curling around the back of your neck as he pulls you down for a deep kiss. He doesn’t just get a taste. He devours you like a five-course meal, his tongue immediately licking into your mouth to chase the intoxicating taste of the fresh peach, chlorine, sun, sweat and you. This time, he bites at your lower lip and gently tugs, pulling a small whine from you. You tangle your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck and he groans softly when you move your hips against his, dragging your aching core over the bulge in his jeans.
“Gotta have you, baby” Joel mumbles against your lips, too desperate to pull away for even one second. “Need you right fuckin’ now.”
“Out here?” you ask breathlessly, not bothering to pull away either.
Joel doesn’t say anything. Instead, with his lips still on yours, he reaches between your bodies and tugs down on a cup of your bikini top until your breast falls out, letting you know that yes, he needs you right now, out here.
“Daddy…” you say tentatively, finally pulling away from the kiss. He doesn't even bother looking up, completely ignoring you as he tugs down the other cup.
“Joel!” you gasp, the sound quickly followed by a giggle as you try to squirm out of his grasp, but the strong he has wrapped around your waist keeps you firmly in place.
He wasn’t exaggerating. Not in the slightest.
“You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby” Joel mumbles, his lips vibrating lightly against your skin. You move in his lap again, but this time you’re not trying to get away. He’s rock hard now, and you grind down harshly, already growing desperate from his primal need for you.
He moves to swirl his tongue over your nipple then brings up his hand to pinch the other one, groaning softly as you grind down on him with your fingers tightening in your grasp in the sweaty curls at the nape of his neck and holding his head against you.
“Joel” you start, your voice already trembling. You’re just putty in this man’s hands. “W-what about the neighbors?”
Joel was not a stupid man. Sure, he doesn’t - used to not - know much about the damn peaches, but he had at least been blessed with enough forethought to build a fence tall enough to make sure that the nosy neighbors wouldn’t be able to see you out here.
He doesn’t look up, just mumbles against your skin “no one can see in, angel. Promise.”
“I know but what about the sound?” you ask, still grinding your hips softly against his.
Joel chuckles, warm air fanning over your chest before looking up at you. His fingers leave your breast and trail down the side of your rib cage, his feather light touch making you shiver before he unceremoniously slips his hand beneath the elastic of your swimsuit, cupping your pussy in his hand. The heel of his palm presses against your clit as his fingers press against your already dripping seam.
“Doesn’t seem to be botherin’ you too much” he says softly, his lips curving in a grin.
You whine and tug on his hair, almost forgetting why you even stopped him in the first place. His eyes fall back down to where he’s cupping you, mesmerized by the way your hips move as you grind against his hand, your juices already leaking onto his palm.
“Needy little thing, aint ya”
You stop moving and glare at him.
“Says the man that nearly creamed his pants watching me eat a piece of fruit”
Joel just shrugs shamelessly with a carefree smile.
“Do you wanna stop?” Joel asks, circling your aching hole with the pads of his two fingers before sliding them in slowly. He’s quick enough to swallow his own pathetic whimper when he feels you clench wildly around his fingers. “‘Cause I’ll stop right now and we ca-”
“No.” you reply firmly, reflexively tugging on his hair.
“That’s my girl” Joel smirks and curls his fingers to press right up against the spot that has you instantly moaning, the one that he never struggles to find. “So good for me, huh?”
You nod weakly, biting your lip to try and stop some of the noise you’re making.
He pumps his fingers in and out of you the best he can with the limited range of motion, obsessed with the soft sound tumbling past your lips. He dives back down to latch onto your nipple again, sucking and rolling his tongue over the hardened peak.
You grind down hard against his hand and your skin grows hotter under the summer sun, every inch of hot and buzzing. You move your hands from his hair, one curling around the back of his neck, the other grabbing onto his shoulder. His neck is damp with sweat under your palm and his black t-shirt feels like it’s about to catch on fire.
“Off” you whine pathetically and pull at his shirt, now desperate to feel every inch of his skin.
He ignores you at first, too busy switching to your other nipple and teasing it between his teeth, too absorbed in the feeling of your slick running down his fingers and into his palm like warm honey. But yanking on his hair brings his attention back to you.
“So impatient” Joel mumbles, sliding his fingers out of you and his hand out of your swimsuit before snapping the elastic against your hip. You watch with wide eyes as he sticks two wet fingers in his mouth letting out a soft groan while his eyelids futter slightly at the taste.
He then pulls the fingers out of his and looks up at you. But you're looking somewhere else. You’re eyes are still glued to his fingers, now shiny with a mixture of your slick and his saliva. He follows your gaze and wiggles his fingers slightly.
“Does my baby want a taste?” Joel asks with a smirk.
You nod your fervently nod your head and whine a pathetic “please”
“Can’t so no when you ask so nicely, sweetheart”
He brings his wet fingers up your lips and you don’t miss a beat, immediately wrapping your lips around his two digits and sucking hard. The two of you sigh in unison, Joel pushing down on your tongue as you roll your tongue around, cleaning up the mess as best you can.
His jaw is slack and hanging open as he watches you in amazement. He slides his fingers back a little further, grunting when you start gagging slightly.
“Such a pretty sound” Joel whispers. He shoves his fingers further back, eyebrows pinched together in concentration. You gag again, harder this time, drool now leaking past your lips and his fingers. His cock pulses in his jeans so hard that it nearly hurts.
“Baby” he starts, pressing down particularly hard on your tongue, moaning quietly as your mouth floods with more saliva. He then hooks his fingers over your bottom teeth and tugs down, forcing your mouth open. He stares at your wet lips with eyes hooded before talking again. “Daddy needs you, sweetheart”
You moan softly and slide off his fingers.
“How d’ya want me?” you ask innocently
“Take these off,” Joel says, thumbing at the waistband of your swimsuit. “Then lie down for me babydoll”
You whimper softly, and move off his lap to stand up, fully untying your bikini top and shimmying out of your bottoms. Your eyes are glued to Joel the whole time though, watching hungirly as he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing the vast expanse of his back. He unbuckles his belts and unzips his jeans, pulling them down his thighs just enough to get his cock out.
You do as you’re told, propping yourself up against the back of the chair with your legs stretched out in front of you. Joel wastes no time getting settled on his stomach between your legs, spreading your thighs apart to reveal your glistening cunt to the summer sun.
“God, baby” Joel sighs at the sight, his warm breath fanning over the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. He brings a hand up and uses two fingers to spread your lips to see your hole clenching around thin air. “So fuckin’ wet for me.”
You whimper softly and gently roll your hips up, chasing after his touch. Joel looks up at you and smirks as he prods at your entrance with his finger tips. JJoel shushes you and presses a kiss to the space just below your navel, then kisses a trail over to your hip and down the top of your thigh. He kisses the tacky spot on your thigh, kitten-licking at the sugary spot of dried juice. Then he slides a hand under your thigh, lifting your leg up and over your shoulder before wrapping his arm over the top, effectively locking your thigh in place.
Your hands find their natural resting spot in his hair, fingers tangling in the brown curls that are burning hot from the sun. He’s making progress towards where you need him most, placing hot, wet kisses on your inner thigh, pausing frequently to nibble and suck at the delicate skin. You can already see the smug look on his face he’ll have when he finds the little marks and bruises in the morning.
With no warning, his mouth is on you, his tongue delving into your slick folds, hungrily lapping at your aching cunt. Joel absolutely devours you, his face buried between your legs, so eager to taste you, to drink you down and make you scream.
You reflexively try to buck your hips, but the arm he has wrapped around your thigh keeps you down, his fingertips digging into your skin as he holds you right where he wants you. His cock twitches where it’s pressed against the chair when he feels your thighs tremble against his face and then again when you pull on his hair, sending tingles from his scalp down to his toes.
His tongue teases your leaking hole, your walls clenching desperately as he dips his tongue in and out before moving to your clit. He sucks the swollen nub between his lips, swirling his tongue around it, waiting until you let out a whine or moan before moving back to your hole to repeat the process. It’s like he’s starving and you’re the first thing he’s tasted in days.
Lewd, wet noises of Joel slurping you down like you’re his last drink ever create a mirror image of the sounds you made while eating the peach only five minutes ago. The sounds mix with your moans and high-pitched whines, Any and all reservations you had about the neighbors hearing you completely gone.
Just from the way he’s eating you out, greedily taking everything you give him, tells you how much he needed you. It’s so passionate and raw that it makes your head spin. You can hear your blood roaring in your ears as your skin feels raw and electrified like an exposed wire as a heat start pool in your lower abdomen. And you’re guessing by how your slick is dripping down your thighs already that he can tell how much you need him.
It doesn’t take long until you’re teetering on the edge of release, your chest heaving with every gulp of air. Joel notices how your moans are getting louder and more frequent, so he slides the hand that’s not wrapped around your thigh down to your entrance and slowly pushes two fingers inside of you.
He smiles against you when you reward him with a long loud moan with your walls clenching tightly around his fingers. He keeps a steady rhythm, slowly pushing his fingers in and out of you, a direct contrast to the ravenous pace of his tongue. The sounds he’s pulling out of you go straight to his cock, but he barely registers the building pressure, too focused on taking care of you to think about himself for even one second.
You cry out when he hooks his fingers inside of you, curling them so they perfectly nudge against your g-spot every single time he pushes in. Your back arches away from the chair and you start rolling your hips against his face, holding his head in place as you do so.
“Give it to me, angel” Joel murmurs into you, the vibrations and his warm breath adding to the pleasure that’s quickly building up. “Wanna feel you cum ‘round my fingers. Wanna taste it, baby”
Your heart is pounding in your chest and you’re so hot, almost every square inch of your skin damp with sweat and you can’t tell if it’s more from the heat or what this man is doing to you, probably just an intoxicating mixture of both. You look down at him to find that he’s already staring up at you, watching you intently with hooded eyes as you start to fall apart.
Your gaze drifts to his back, and you can’t help but gawk at the muscles flexing smoothly under his tan skin that’s gleaming with sweat. The sight alone causes the pressure to build even more and Joel groans when your legs start trembling on either side of his head. He doubles down on his effort, his tongue flicking wildly at your clit as he presses his fingertips harshly against your spot that has you seeing stars. He lays the palm of his free hand on the space just below your navel and presses down, adding sudden, intense external pressure that makes you cry out loud.
“Oh fuck daddy I - shit I’m gon-”
You can’t even finish the sentence before you’re flying off the edge, hips lifting off the chair as you shove his face even further against your core. Sounds of pleasure flow freely from your lips as you grind against his face, the stubble of his beard rubbing your sweaty inner thighs raw. Joel watches you the whole time as your slick gushes out of your hole and onto his chin and around his fingers.
He works you through it, grunting and moaning while keeping his mouth glued to you, following you as you writhe underneath him. He doesn’t let up until you’re whimpering and squirming away from the overstimulation.
“Goddam, baby” Joel rasps, his voice thick with his smooth southern drawl. He presses a gentle kiss to your hypersensitive clit and whispers “sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted. Could give that farmer and his peaches a run for their money”
You giggle breathlessly. Your limbs are relaxed and heavy as you melt against the chair while Joel moves so that he’s kneeling between your legs. He takes advantage of how soft and pliant you are, easily manhandling you to flip over and put your ass up in the air with the side of your face pressed against the chair cushion.
He palms at your ass and grips handfuls of both cheeks before spreading you open so you’re on full display for him. He groans quietly seeing your hole clench around thin air, a thin string of your slick dripping from your lips.
“So beautiful, baby” Joel mumbles, dragging a single finger through the mess between your legs. You whine at the praise and wiggle your hips, your way of asking him to get on with it already.
“S’okay, baby” Joel soothes, rubbing a palm over the curve of your ass. “Gonna give you what you want”
Joel gathers the spit in his mouth before leaning over a bit and letting it drip down to where he has you spread open. He groans softly, watching the warm liquid land on your asshole and slide down to pool at your leaking entrance. You obviously don’t need any extra lubrication but Joel’s obsession with claiming you as his and getting you all messy like this is no secret.
You both moan when he nestles his cock between your cheeks, sighing heavily as he rocks his hips and gently glides his cock through the wetness.
“This what you want, sweetheart?” Joel teases, notching his tip at your entrance. “Or should I fuck this tight little hole? Haven’t played back here in awhile”
Your high-pitched whines turn into desperate moans when he spits again and spreads it over the tight ring of muscle with the pad of his thumb. You make another pathetic noise and push your hips back again.
“You’d take anything I gave you wouldn’t you, angel?” Joel coos, pressing his thumb past the tight ring of muscle. “Could take your sweet pussy or tight little ass whenever I want and you’d just be so grateful, huh baby?”
“Yes daddy just– please I just need you inside me”
Joel hums approvingly.
“Yeah I know you would, baby” Joel sighs, watching your tight hole swallow the tip of his thumb with stars in his eyes. “Always so desperate for me to fill you up and stuff you full of my cock, isn’t that right?”
You whine in frustration as Joel slides his cock through your folds again, rubbing the warm, swollen head of his cock against your clit.
“Please, daddy. Please please I want it so bad fuck me pl-”
You cut yourself off with a wanton moan when Joel fully sheathes himself inside your aching cunt in one swift, sudden movement.
“Sound so pretty when you beg like that” Joel chokes out, his fingertips digging into the meat of your hips as he wills himself to stay still while you adjust to his size.
It’s hard though, especially with your dripping walls spasming around his cock and your asshole squeezing his thumb.
“Jesus honey” Joel groans as he pulls your hips back onto him just to get a little bit deeper. His cock pulses inside of you when you whine his name and clench wildly around him. “Feel so fuckin’ good squeezin’ me like that”
“Move” you groan. “God daddy please move”
You don’t have to tell him twice.
Immediately he pulls out just until his tip catches on your entrance before slamming back inside. You cry out at the sudden, intense force, your hands scrambling and searching for purchase on the fabric of the chair. You try to crawl up on your forearms, but his strong hand between your shoulder blades forces you back down, your cheek smushed against the chair.
Joel growls from behind you as he quickly works up to a devastating pace. His eyes flit back and forth from your face, screwed up in pleasure, to where he’s pounding into you, both of your holes raw and stretched out around his cock and his thumb.
“Fuck you take it so well, baby” Joel grunts, his hand landing harshly on your ass. “Such a good girl, takin’ everything I give you”
He leans over, his palm sliding from between your shoulders to the back of your neck. The position pushes him even further inside of you, his tip pressing against your cervix with every stroke.
“Nghh fuck daddy, you’re so deep!” you cry, gasping wetly while his fingers splay over the front of your throat.
“Fuck yeah I am” Joel growls, his thumb now pressing firmly against the side of your neck, his fingertips squeezing the other side. “This cock was made to fuck you, sweet girl”
He gradually increases the pressure on your throat, his cock pulsating when you clench down on him as he slowly constricts the blood flow to your brain. There’s not a single worry in your head. The hand around your throat is a reminder of his dominance over you but also serves as a symbol of the trust between the two of you. It’s almost a silent way of saying “let go, I’ve got you”
And you do let go.
You moan uncontrollably as he continues to pound into you, your head quickly growing light and fuzzy. His fucking you with no reservations, making every inch of you skin tingle with pleasure. But you can’t resist the temptation to push your hips back, meeting his thrusts halfway. And judging from the sound of Joel’s moan, you know that was the right choice.
“Oh god, that’s it, sweetheart. Lemme see you fuck yourself on my cock”
You follow his orders, the muscles in your thighs and hips already burning from the sheer amount of effort you're exerting. Your mouth hangs open, drool leaking out onto the white fabric of the cushion as you whimper and whine while for him. He watches, completely focused on the way your body moves for him, panting heavily with his thumb still stuck in your ass.
“Better be quiet, angel,” Joel warns through clenched teeth. “Unless you want them to hear.”
He hisses when you clamp down around him and thrust your hips back, forcing his length deep inside of you. Joel chuckles breathlessly and leans down until his face is inches away from yours, his grip lightening up on your throat. “Oh you like that idea, don’t you?”
You try to open your mouth and say something, but he starts squeezing your throat again, laughing darkly when your eyes roll into the back of your head.
“Dirty fucking girl” Joel whispers roughly, snapping his hips harder against yours if even possible at this point. He wiggles his thumb in your ass for good measure. “Wants the whole neighborhood to hear how well her daddy fucks her, huh baby?”
The sound of it all is obscene, your moans, the rhythmic slap of his pelvis against your ass, and the squelching of your dripping cunt as he fucks you senseless. For a brief second, your mind wanders to all the women in the neighborhood, so indiscreet with the way that they ogle at Joel at all the neighborhood cook-outs and bonfires and you think to yourself: yeah, they can fucking listen.
Joel places a wet kiss to the nape of your neck before straightening up again. His hand abruptly leaves your throat, leaving you gasping and whining at the loss.
“God you’re such a fuckin’ slut for it” Joel rasps, his hand gripping your hip again.
Your head feels thick and stuffy, thoughts floating around like syrup in your brain. The only thing you can think about is Joel’s cock driving in and out of you, dragging so deliciously against your g-spot while he keeps his thumb firmly in your tight asshole.
He uses two fingers from his free hand to prod at where he’s splitting you open, gathering some of your slick and dragging it up to your clit. He groans at the heavenly sounds that start falling from your lips as he rubs quick circles over the sensitive nub.
You’re an absolute mess at this point, completely at his mercy as he pounds into you. Your hips jerk involuntarily against him as he continues to rub your clit ferociously, making you writhe underneath him. His touch only adds to your pleasure, pure bliss engulfing all of your senses.
“Please daddy” you whine, your words slurring together. “Please I wanna cum”
“I know, baby. Can feel you clenchin’ around me'' Joel coos. “S’okay sweetheart, I want it. Soak my fuckin’ cock with it”
Your whole body tenses as you reach your release, your walls grip him so impossibly tight as he fucks you through it, his fingers on your clit not slowing for even a second
“That’s it, baby.” Joel praises as you shake underneath him, the sounds you're making, has his cock throbbing inside of you, his eyes rolling back at how tightly you squeeze his cock and his thumb. “Always so fuckin’ tight when you cum on me. So fuckin’ tight”
He’s not far behind you, the way your body reacts to him driving him absolutely wild. His fingers move from your clit to grip your hip and he slams into you with a newfound strength, chasing after his own release.
“Fuck, honey you’re gonna make me cum” he grunts, his eyes glued to your holes fluttering around him.
“Yes, daddy please cum” you manage to whine desperately, eager to have him fuck you full of his cum until it’s dripping out of you.
Your begging sends him over the edge and his pace falters then stops completely. The sounds of his loud moans as he spills inside of you sends a pleasant wave of warmth down your spine. It feels so divine, the way he throbs inside of you as he shoots rope after rope cum deep inside of you.
He stays there for a few moments, buried deep inside you while he catches his breath. Once his breathing evens out, he gingerly removes his thumb from your ass, his cock twitching pathetically at the way your tight hole grips onto him as he pulls it out. He then slides his cock out and collapses on top of you, careful not to completely crush you.
He’s burning hot, his sweaty skin sticking to your eyes as the sunshine beats down relentlessly on the two of you. But you don’t give single fuck. He rests his cheek between your shoulder blades, his scruff tickling the sensitive skin.
“You’re so good, sweetheart.” Joel whispers, his breath fanning over the back of shoulder.
You hum happily in response, too blissed out to say much else. You lay there for a few more minutes until the sun makes things unbearably hot. Joel then moves to stand up and shimmies out of the jeans that he never fully took off.
You turn your head to look at him, using your hand to shield your eye from the sun.
“You’re puttin’ a lot of faith in that fence” you chuckle, eyes shamelessly raking up and down his naked body.
Joel laughs out loud and tosses his jeans on the chair.
“Baby” he starts, reaching down to roll you over onto your back. “You know the only reason I agreed to building that fence and this goddamn pool in the first place is because I want to see you naked inside of it”
You have no time to react before he’s scooping you up in his arms.
“Joel Miller! Put me down!” you shout between giggles as he carries you over to the edge of the pool.
“It’d be my honor” he says before dropping you into the water.
The cool water is a shock to your fucked out system, but it’s such a relief from the heat. And if anyone else did that, you’d be fucking livid. Anyone else. But it’s Joel. And the way that he jumps in after you and then wraps his arms around you as he giggles in your ear makes you absolutely melt, just like it always does.
Thank god for peach season.
Thank you for reading I love you guys sm :')))
#Joel miller smut#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller fic#the last of us#tlou fic#pedro pascal characters#Joel miller
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I like that The Chalice of the Gods is technically cozy fantasy. The Percy Jackson books (including Heroes of Olympus, and The Trials of Apollo) are filled with high stakes and violence. And yeah, there are definitely stakes in The Chalice of the Gods, and they’re high in their own way (but not apocalyptic high), but we see more cozy moments, like Percy doing homework, Percy and Annabeth and Grover hanging out after school, Percy and Annabeth helping Percy’s mom and step-dad make dinner. Another part of it being cozy fantasy is that it all takes place in Percy’s home of NYC. But with this cozy fantasy it gives us another way to view the high stakes we’ve seen, even for Percy. Everything seems so much more important, especially the little details of life, Percy’s own life is suddenly so much more important, and not because gods are giving him life or death stakes and asking him to save the world, but because he realizes how much he loves his life. He loves family dinners, he likes dates with Annabeth, he likes spending time with Grover, he even values the little gesture from his dad at the end. And it makes you actually want to be there with him this time. You want to sit down at Himbo Juice and try a Salty Sailor, you want to wander the farmer’s market, you want to see if maybe you could help Percy with his homework. It’s obviously written in the classic Percy Jackson style we all know and love, but this time with more focus on Percy’s personal life. I can’t wait for the next book.
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note: inspired by @lionasvault diner!jj x deer!reader ! <3
short masterlist: part two here, part three here, part four here, part five here !
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being a single mother with a rafe camerons child was never easy.
the little girl hung on your shoulder giggling as she held onto you, and you tried to hide the squeezing pain that you felt in your heart. she knew nothing about her situation completely obvious.
you were a kook. all through, the short bikinis, strutting upon everything you owned, winning pageants, and academic awards. it was your life. you were a soccer player on the side of it all, a crazy defender. you had enjoyed your life, knowing that you were going to marry someone.
rafe.
that's who the person was going to be. the sweet boy who gave you roses on your anniversary, telling you was better than any kook girl he had met. and it was all fun and games, sneaking away to be with someone older, someone bad, someone playful and someone who treated you "well." it helped that he was kook too, smug about his place in the world, and a callous hand dragging you across to show you around at parties.
school ended on a good note for you, and you headed to university, with high dreams and a cute boyfriend at that. sure he was brooding, sure he was mean, sure he dropped notes about you not needing a higher education because you were wife material. but your parents had told you to go and be independent.
so that's what you were doing. now, escaping from his clutches, a six-month-old baby girl gurgled at you as you tried to ignore the unfamiliarity of the whole new place you had rented. it was a cute town you thought, the little painted signs, and you found yourself staring at the flat. your landlord's little painted key felt warm in your hand, and you found yourself tearing up.
finally, you set down your small brown suitcase, willing yourself to be stronger. willing yourself to look at the bright side of things, the fact that the apartment had 1 room for the two of you, and the fact that the sink had pretty roses on it, and the fact that you were finally free.
you gazed back at your baby, her sleepy smile, as her eyes blinked and when it found a familiar face - gurgled with happiness. you felt as if your heart was going to burst with happiness, and with that, you decided that you should explore the town
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚
the town was better than you thought it would be, there was a small ballet studio across the street, meek book stands nearby, and a farmers market that sold you the ripest strawberries known to mankind. so yes, when you saw those strawberries you bought a carton. immediately your baby girl made grabby grabby hands, and you smiled down at her, brushing a curl of hair away from her face.
"what, baby? you want one too?" you cooed, before giving her a red strawberry. she squealed before taking a big bite out of it, mushing it in her claw hands, giving you an inquisitory look. you sighed, and continued to push the stroller.
jj's diner.
that's what it read on bright rusty red letters, it was colored a gorgeous gray, and the glass windows showed a homely setting. grandparents sat with one other, sipping on coffees, you watched kids take big bites out of syrapy pancakes and stripes of bacon. this was a scene to beyond, and you couldn't help but yearn for it, as you opened the door of the diner.
a sweet smell wafted by, as if fresh blueberry muffins had just been made. it felt like home, like a safe space, and before you knew it you were dragging in your stroller, and sitting down near the window. finally you found yourself smiling with joy as you looked down at the laminated plastic menu.
"i'm jj, what can i get 'cha?" a gruff voice muttered, and you pursed your lips before looking up. it was a guy with dirty blonde hair, a backward hat, and white tee with what looked like mustard to you? "c'mon mama, i don't got all the time in the world."
he looked at you pointly as if annoyed. the name 'jj,' seemed to flash in your mind. that was the diner's name? this was his diner, wasn't it. clearly they were short on staff.
you flushed quickly, and you picked up your menu, "yeah i'll take the pancakes? extra syrup, and maybe some..." you crinkled your nose before looking at your baby girl who had a menu in her mouth, giving you a gumless smile "can i have mashed banana?"
he looked baffled, chuckling while putting a hand on his hip, "mashed bananas? i don't serve that." once again you felt like an idiot stammering out your words. finally it was as if he looked at you properly, your creased clothes and messy hair. you had been up all night worrying about this move.
he shook his head, and then swiped a hand to pick up the menus, "yeah. it's alright. mashed bananas and pancakes. got it." and somehow when he gave you that half smile you felt your heart lift up.
˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚
by the end of the trip to the diner, you had gotten up to clean your hands asking a kind lady to look after your baby for a second - and when you came back jj was sitting next to your baby cooing.
he gave you a confused look when you came back, as your baby chewed on his finger, giving a delighted shriek. you found yourself trying to figure out what was happening.
"she yours?" he asked, and you gave him a quick nod before trying to pull her into your arms. you avoided his gaze. you didn't want him to say anything about it. after all, you had enough people judging you.
instead you zoned on your baby who gave a final cry before letting you pick her up. she still reached her chubby arms for jj's, eyes welling up as if she was going to cry.
you sighed, "really sorry about this. i know it's not okay."
jj looked at you again, reaching for his hate before waving his hand to console you, "nah. i don't mind."
you gave him a tightlipped smile, and then put your baby in your stroller to head out, "thanks for everything."
"don't mention it."
somehow you felt as if you had made a friend.
#diner!jj x deer!reader#jj maybank prompt#deer!reader#jj maybank#jj mayback x reader#rafe imagine#jj obx#jj mayback imagine#jj outer banks#jj x you#jj x reader#fluff#jj drabble#jj mayback drabble#babymama!reader#dad!jj maybank#jj maybank imagines#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank fluff#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank x reader#jj maybank x you#dad!rafe cameron
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never lose me • ljh
pairing: woozi x f!reader, established relationship
genre: smut, 18+ MINORS DNI!! slight angst, fluff, miscommunication
synopsis: it’s been awhile since you’ve gotten jihoon alone, and a sundress is all it takes for him to realize how much he misses and is obsessed with you
warnings: pwp, unprotected p in v, oral (f), riding, fingering, reader wears a dress, they say ‘i love you’ a lot, mild angst, fluff, buff woozi, long haired woozi
a/n: i love woozi. unedited of course
jihoon knows he’s in trouble the moment you step out into the living room in a baby pink sundress that clings to your chest and gives you a lift, your hair tossed up in a loose updo, donning gold jewelry, and a smile that makes him physically weak. his chest swells with love and desire, a deep sense of yearning overtaking his being.
he’s been distant lately, he knows. working late nearly every night and leaving early in the morning. sometimes, he doesn’t even make it home and ends up sleeping at the studio or at the dorms, despite having his own place with you. he’s been meaning to make it up to you—he bought you a few things, though he knows the key to your heart isn’t material things—though he hasn’t really found the time (or out in much effort) to do so, other than offering to take you to the farmers market today since you mentioned it awhile ago and he never went with you.
looking at you now, he’s overwhelmed with the information that he’s very much in love with you, and that you’re the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen. “are you ready?” you ask him, a soft smile on your face. jihoon swallows and nods, standing up from the couch and wiping his palms on his jeans. he places a hand on the small of your back and places a gentle kiss on your jaw.
"you look pretty," he says softly, removing his hand from your back to hold onto yours. you blush and thank him, feeling an ego boost that he at least noticed. it’s been hard interacting with him since when you do see him, it’s short and brief. you understand that he’s busy, and understand he needs his time and space to work—you’ve never taken issue with that—but you do miss him, more than anything.
the drive to the farmers market is short, and you do most of the talking, catching him up on things you know he’s missed, whether it be things going on in your life, or in the pop culture word. he’s quiet, but he hangs onto every word you say even if it’s not about you and your life. it makes him realize just how gone he’s been, and he starts to feel guilty and like the worlds worst boyfriend.
“ji, you okay?” you question, tapping his leg. he looks down at your hand and grabs it with his right, squeezing it. he glances over at you and sees the concern on your face and begins to feel worse.
“yeah, yeah im fine,” he says unconvincingly. you know him better than that—probably better than he knows himself—and you know something is there under the surface, but you never push him unless you feel like he needs to be pushed. rather than forcing the truth out of him, you leave it alone.
soon enough, he’s pulling into the designated parking lot for the farmers market, and the two of you are getting out of his car and walking hand in hand through the street. it’s a bright day, and there are many people, families, and dogs milling about. “ji, we should get a dog,” you say when another toy poodle passes by the two of you. he chuckles and shakes his head lightly. “cmon, it would be like prep for when we have an actual kid.” you say casually, a twinkle in your eye.
the breath gets caught in jihoons throat and his cheeks flush. the two of you have talked about having kids before, but not recently. the fact that you’d still consider him to be the father of your children makes him feel warm and hopeful that he isn’t a total screw up of a partner.
“i’ll think about it,” jihoon says, swallowing. your grin at him and grab ahold of jihoons hand to drag him over to a booth. he lets you guide him, his brain still stuck on the comment about kids. he wants kids, especially with you, and now he can’t seem to think of anything else.
and he lets you guide him to whichever booth you want. you lead him to a booth that sells fresh produce, and he stays close by to you while you pick things out. he can’t help but watch you move and feel an ache deep inside of him, a strong sense of yearning for you despite the fact that he has you. “i’m gonna try to bake something this week, what do you want?” you ask jihoon, picking up a carton of strawberries.
turning, you have an expectant look on your face until you see your boyfriend looking extremely… sad. like a little puppy, his eyes wide and his mouth downturned into a small frown. “baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, placing a hand on his arm.
jihoon opens his mouth and closes it before trying again, taking a step closer to you. he slips an arm around your waist to rest on the small of your back, dropping his mouth close to your ear. “i love you,” he murmurs, mouth ghosting over your jaw in a soft kiss.
you smile and tilt your head to look up at him. “i love you too, baby,” you say, placing a kiss on his lips this time. you don’t really mind PDA—jihoon does, though he’s not complaining right now. he wonders if anybody else can hear how hard his heart is beating in his chest, and whether you can feel it, because it feels like it’s going to beat out of his chest.
once you two pull away, you go back to picking our fruit and jihoon goes back to swooning and yearning over you. but he wanders around the booth and grabs some vegetables that he can meal prep with, and finds you when he’s done. you tell him what you’re going to make for the week—blueberry lemon loaf—and then the two of you bound up to the counter to pay. jihoon hands the person behind the counter his card with ease.
afterwards, you pull him to more booths and he follows you closely, letting you wander around but never keeping you out of his line of sight. he can’t keep his mind off of you right now, he's so overwhelmed by you, and he wishes he could get a handle on himself right now. he's so consumed with the fact that you still want to have kids with him, about the fact that your dress is much too tight in the chest and its turning him to mush.
jihoon glances around and finds a spots a florists tent only a few feet away. you're preoccupied with looking at handmade jewelry that he's able to quickly slip away without you noticing. jihoon's eyes quickly scan the bouquets, reaching for a large one full of white, pink, and yellow flowers. he holds them for a second before setting them back where he found them and walking up to the people who run the booth. "hi, do you guys have any bouquets with peonies?" he asks, tucking his hands into his jean pockets.
the woman smiles and stands up, already walking over to another display of flowers. "yes! we have bouquets made up of entirely bouquets–like this," she holds up a band of pink peonies to show jihoon. "or we have a few that contain peonies, but not nearly as many. depends on what you like." she finishes happily, a polite smile on her face. jihoon's eyes dart between both bouquets, a crease forming in between his eyebrows. "is it a special occasion? person?" the florist asks, trying to help jihoon out.
"they're for my girlfriend. she likes pink," he says, reaching for the bouquet of mixed flowers. theres pink peonies, white roses, and a third pink flower he can't identify. "i think i'll just get these." the florist nods and leads jihoon back to the counter to pay. he hands her his card and rocks eagerly back and forth on his heels, feeling a semblance of normalness for the first time today.
taking the flowers, a sense of pride swells in his chest at the mere thought of handing them to you, in seeing the expression on your face when he gives you the bouquet.
when jihoon gets closer to the booth he left you in, his eyes search for you, but he is unable to see you. his eyebrows furrow, but he keeps his panic at bay–you're a grown woman after all, and you definitely could not have gone far since he was hardly gone for more than five minutes. he'll find you.
like a dog with a squeaker toy, his ears perk up at the sound of laughter. but it's not just any laughter, its one that he'd probably be able to pick out even amongst a chorus of people laughing. its the sound of laughter that always makes him want to start laughing; its infectious, and sweet, and its yours. its laughter that comes from your chest, and he can just imagine what you look like: eyes squinty, teeth showing, cheeks round. his stomach churns with butterflies at the mere thought of it.
jihoon follows the sound, gaze landing upon you in a few seconds. but he stops short when he sees why you are laughing. a man stands close to you, a bit too close, marveling at the fact that he was able to elicit such a sound from you. now, jihoon isn't a regularly jealous guy, nor is he possessive. but he sees the way the man looks at you, watches his eyes drop down to your chest for a split second while you're busy talking about something and not quite paying him any attention. the butterflies that once inhabited his stomach vanish, and the churning stems from elsewhere. he swallows and runs a hand through his long, dark hair, and finishes making his way to you.
the man notices jihoon before you do, and he makes his presence known by slipping a hand onto the small of your back. with a start, you almost accuse the man of trying to pull a fast one on you until you turn and see jihoon, immediate relief and relaxation washing over you. "oh! baby, you scared me," you say, sliding closer to him. you notice the flowers in his hand and you break out into a smile. "for me?" you ask.
jihoon smiles sheepishly and nods, but he keeps his eyes trained on the stranger. you notice jihoons attention divert and follow his gaze, lips parting, ready to introduce to two of them but you stop short once you realize you don’t even know the man’s name and that he just started talking to you. “uh,” you start, a shy smile on your face.
“ill leave you two to it,” he says, throwing up an awkward thumbs up and slipping off to wherever he came from. you look at jihoon and get help the laugh that escapes you, dropping a hand onto his shoulder.
“that was so awkward!” you say, hugging the flowers to your chest. jihoon gives you a halfhearted chuckle, the corner of his lip dragging upward before immediately falling into a flat line. he’s not upset, especially not with you. there’s a bunch of emotions swarming through him today, and that man only added fuel to the fire. he feels like he’s on borrowed time with you and can’t get ahold of anything.
a frown takes over your face at your boyfriends mood, your frustration growing. “jihoon, what is wrong?” you ask, voice hushed because of the public setting. he glances around and takes a step closer to you, arm snaking around your waist.
“it’s nothing, i promise,” he says, voice low. jihoon places a consolidation kiss on your cheek, but you don’t believe him. it’s bullshit and both of you know that you know that, but you don’t say anything because you really do just want to enjoy this day with him.
the two of you wander around the farmers market for a few more hours, jihoon hardly leaving your side of letting you out of his sight for too long. he is hyper aware of who talks to you, where their eyes linger and for how long. it’s extremely out of character, this level of possession he’s displaying. it’s not him, but he’s extremely on edge.
you notice it, of course. his hand rarely leaves the small of your back unless you wrap yourself around his arm. he’s not nearly this close and clingy to you, but it doesn’t necessarily bother you—his possessive behavior, though, is where you’re stumped. you’re now 101% sure that he’s been bullshitting you all day. again, you don’t say anything and choose to just embrace him being all over you, especially since it’s been awhile that you’ve been able to get time with him.
after a few hours of walking in platform sandals, your feet start to ache. the two of you have gone to nearly every booth at the market, and have seen the crowd die down. “my feet are killing me,” you say, flexing your toes.
“are you ready to go home?” jihoon asks, rubbing small circles into your lower back.
“yeah, i think so. we basically saw everything, right?” you ask, the two of you already heading back in the direction of the parking lot. jihoon nods, slipping his hand from your back to intertwine your fingers together. you glance over at him and smile, grateful for the time you’ve had with him today despite his strange attitude. “i love you, you know?” you say, bumping your shoulder with his.
jihoon smiles, looking down at that ground. “i love you too,” he says softly, the tips of his ears reddening. the two of you make it back to the car and jihoon opens the trunk to put the tote bag of stuff in the back. you wait for him, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a kiss when he closes the back. he holds onto your sides tightly, fingers lightly bunching up the loose fabric of your dress. you press your chest against his own, your nipples peaked and sensitive against the fabric of your dress mixed with the friction of his tshirt.
jihoon feels his mind go blank for a second, almost like he’s a virgin again when he feels your nipples through your dress. he hadnt realized how thin the material was, or what you weren’t wearing a bra, and now that changes everything about today, about the feeling of you in his hands, about the stares you received from strangers. it makes him more agitated and pathetically hard, though the latter makes him feel guilty for even thinking about you in that way when he’s barely spent real quality time with you.
pulling back, you place a soft hand on the side of his face, gently stroking his cheek with your thumb. jihoon relaxes against your touch, letting out a small breath that makes you smile. “i’ve missed you,” he murmurs, grip tightening on your hip.
you hum, placing your other hand against his chest. you flatten it over his right pec before gently dragging your nails over his clothed skin. “prove it,” you say, tone sultry. you flick your eyes up to meet his own and he swallows, his erection straining against his pants. if you notice it, you don’t make it known, just smile that angelic smile and slip away from him to get in the car. jihoon stands there, static flowing through his brain.
there isn’t a coherent thought in his mind other than getting you home as quickly as possible. he quickly hops in the driver seat and starts the car, flying out of the parking lot far too quickly. but he doesn’t really have time to stop and think, his dick agonizingly hard in his pants and you achingly beautiful right next to him.
“baby, it’s a red,” you say, looking over at jihoon with mild concern when he flies up to a red light, hardly feeling like he’s pressing on the brakes. jihoon leans back in his seat once the car is idle, and lets out a chuckle at his own ridiculousness. he won’t be able to fuck you like he wants if he dangerously speeds home, but he’s eager, buzzing in his seat.
“god, i love you,” he mumbles for the millionth time today, running a hand through his hair and pressing on the lightly on the gas when the light changes.
you smile and place a hand low on his leg. jihoon can’t help when he jerks at your touch, leg shifting open wider. it’s embarrassing, pathetic, and whorish, and his face burns in mortification. you bite back a giggle, not wanting to add to his embarrassment.
the short car ride home is tense. again, you talk and he listens—or tries to; unable to fully concentrate with your hand on his leg. you can tell that he’s really trying though, and you find it sweet since the tent in his pants hasn’t faltered once. you’d be lying if you said he hasn’t had you hot and bothered all day. he’s a man of simple fashion: black tshirt and jeans, but his bulging muscles will forever make you drool.
pulling up to the house is like beating the level in a video game before the final boss battle. except in this case, the boss level is getting you naked in the next few minutes. jihoon doesn’t even bother grabbing the stuff out of the trunk, just opens your door for you and ushers you up to the front door. he fumbles with the house key for a moment, lowly mumbling out a few curses before finally shoving it into the lock and opening the door.
jihoons on you in an instant, backing you into the closed front door and placing his lips on yours. you toss your purse onto the entry table and thread your fingers through his long hair. his hair has grown out a lot lately, results of him being so busy with work and forgetting about everything else. you like it, a lot, and rue the day he decides to chop it all off.
he pulls back from your mouth to kiss down your neck, groaning into your skin. jihoon holds onto your sides, hands kneading at the flesh. his mouth is hot against your skin, lips searing like he’s claiming you, branding you.. its a sensation you’ve been deprived of lately, one you’ve missed. jihoon kisses down your chest to the tops of your exposed breasts, resisting the extremely strong urge to rip you out of the fabric. “fuck,” he curses, moving back up to your mouth. he’s desperate for you he can hardly contain himself or get his thoughts straight.
jihoon pulls you from against the door and walks you backwards down the hall. you let him, hands gripping onto his biceps for support. you pull apart when he presses you back against a surface, and you find yourself in the kitchen pressed against the island. jihoons lips are red and swollen, his pupils blown and cheeks flushed. you lovingly run a hand through his hair, pushing the strands out of his face so you can really see him. he closes his eyes for a brief second and grips onto the counter, dropping his forehead against yours. "you're driving me crazy," he mumbles, breath warm against your face. "this dress. you." jihoon lifts his head to look at you, tongue darting out to lick his lips.
your heart hammers against your ribcage, like its ready to beat out of your chest and flop onto the kitchen floors. his gaze is intense and makes heat pool at the base of your abdomen, thighs pressing together. you reach behind you to unzip your garment, but he stops you, gently grabbing onto your forearm.
"leave it on."
jihoon is on his knees in an instant, flipping up the skirt of your gown and disappearing under the material. you want to see him, nearly ready to complain until you feel his mouth on your core. he breathes you in, brain clouding at your scent and wetness. your panties are damp and stick to your folds in a way that makes him spin. he wastes no more time and pulls down your underwear, yanking them off your ankles before stuffing them into the pocket of his jeans. his mouth is on you again, this time making you let out a soft sigh and bunch up your dress atop his shoulders. he grabs one of your calves and props it against his broad shoulders, spreading your open wider and giving him more room to work.
he's an expert with his tongue, and you let him know that by all of the sounds you make. you didn't realize how long its been until you notice how loud you're being, how quickly your legs begin to shake when he suckles on your clit. "fuck, jihoon!" you moan, knees growing weaker by the second. he keeps a firm grip on your thighs, supporting most of your weight. his tongue is everywhere you need him most, licking up your arousal like its the last thing he'll ever do.
jihoon groans against you, making you whimper above him and press your thighs together. his lips find themselves around your sensitive nub, and he lets go of the leg that is propped up against his shoulder to stick to fingers inside of you. you clench around him in a way that makes him feel like he could cum in his pants in the next few seconds. you're warm and tight.
"h-hoonie, i-i-" you cut yourself off with a pathetic whine, tears gathering in your eyes as he fucks his fingers in and out of you, his tongue swirling around your clit.
he's prepared for your release, but he's not prepared for the way your arousal squirts out onto his face. he freezes, watching your pussy flutter around his still fingers, your arousal flowing out of you like rain. "jihoon!" you yelp as you come, body burning and legs shaking. he attempts to retracts his fingers from inside you, but you clench around him and squeeze him back in.
its pathetic the way he whimpers and jerks his hips forward, a dark patch forming on his jeans. he manages to pull his fingers back, and stands up from the floor, hand moving to your hip to support you on your weak legs. the sight before him is one of his favorites: your chest heaving, eyes closed and mouth parted. its a state of bliss that he put you in, and he'll never get tired of it.
upon feeling him stand up, you attempt to sit up against the counter and open your eyes. when you see his shiny face, your eyes widen and your face burns with embarrassment. " oh my g-" he cuts you off with a kiss, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. you moan and grip onto his shoulders tightly, body buzzing.
jihoon is the first to pull away, spinning you around by the hips and pressing you against the counter. he grabs the hem of his shirt and wipes his face before pulling it off and and tossing it on the floor. next are his pants, though he doesnt even bother stepping out of them and just lets them pool around his ankles. he's never been this eager and hungry for sex, its almost animalistic the way he feels inside.
grabbing your leg, jihoon props your knee up on the counter and checks that you're comfortable. "yes, just fuck me," you sigh, folding your arms under your head and resting your cheek against them. jihoon pushes up your dress and lines himself up, pushing the head in and letting out a string of curses at your grip on him. you never fully got used to the size of him, but now that’s it’s been a minute the stretch is much more intense than before. "baby." you whine, biting your bottom lip, cunt fluttering around him. jihoon grips onto the counter with one hand and your hip with the other, bottoming out and staying still for a moment to really feel you.
"i l-love you," he says, breathing labored. he leans down against you and presses a soft, loving, kiss to the back of your neck. "i love you so fucking much."
he pulls back and snaps his hips back into your ass, a loud gasp getting pushes from you lungs, followed by a cry of his name. he's relentless with his strokes, unable to control himself. you don't mind the harshness, especially after how long you've gone without having sex. "j-jihoon!" you cry, tears brimming in your eyes for the second time tonight.
"i m-missed you," he grunts, pushing up your dress so he can see your ass, eyes trained on where you two connect. "missed this pussy, fuck!" he groans, knuckles turning white from his grip on the counter. a white rim coats the base of his dick, both of your arousals mixing together to make it easier for him to glide into you.
“it’s yours,” you mewl, pressing your hips back into him and deepening the arch in your back. jihoon grunts in agreement, moving the hand that is on your hip up to your chest. he gropes your chest, tweaking your nipple through the material of your dress.
he pounds into your hard enough to knock the strap of your dress off your shoulder. you want it off, but he’s adamant that you leave it on. “you feel so good!” tears slip out of your eyes due to the pleasure you’re feeling. jihoon pulls the top of your dress down and lets your breasts spill free, the other strap sliding down your arm.
jihoons strokes begin to lose rhythm and his breathing becomes exceptionally labored. you know he’s close—you are too, unbelievably close—and you want to cum with him. reaching back, you call out his name and wiggle your fingers.. jihoon grabs onto your hand without a second thought, squeezing tightly as he continues to give you a few more powerful thrusts. “baby, i’m c-close,” you breathe, the knot tightening in your core.
“m-me too. wan’ c-come with y-you,” he grunts, thrusts becoming shallower by the second. you whimper and clench around him, crying out his name when you start to spasm around him, legs shaking.
jihoon grunts and holds your hip tightly to keep you in place, groaning out your name as he releases his load into you. he folds himself onto your back, unable to hold himself up any longer while he releases ropes of his cum into you. you appreciate the weight of him on you, keeps you from floating up and away from the present.
“fuck,” he breathes, pushing himself up and off of you and pulling out of you warmth with a whimper that makes you involuntarily clench around him. “baby.” jihoon pulls out of you and grabs at your waist, gently spinning you around and cradling you in his arms. you give him a blissed out smile, eyes low and tired, skin shiny from a thin layer of sweat.
“hi.”
“hey,” you smile at each other like two lovesick fools, and you push yourself up to his lips to give him a soft and sensual kiss. “i’m sorry.” he mumbles against your lips, hands grabbing the zipper of your dress and pulling it down, the cool air making goosebumps arise on your skin.
“you’re forgiven,” you say in a rush, letting the dress fall to the floor. you’ll get to the root of the apology later, but right now you still need him.
it’s desperate the way jihoon gets on the floor and pulls you down on top of him, guiding you over his dick. you plant your feet on either side of his hips and lower yourself onto his shaft, mouth dropping open at the sensation of being split open for the second time. “ah, jihoon, fuck!” you cry, planting a hand on his chest for stability. you won’t last long riding him—both of you know that—but you intend to make it count for as long as you can before your legs give out.
jihoon is in a trance watching you bounce on top of him, fully convinced that if he were to die right now this would be the way he’d love to go out: you on top of him in all your glory, fucking him—using him, like he’s your little toy. and he’s happy to be exactly that.
the squelching your cunt makes every time you drop down onto him pushes him closer to the edge. he can hardly keep his eyes open, but he wants to look at you, wants to watch you as you take everything he’s got, milk him for all he’s worth until there’s nothing left. “i-i missed this,” you moan, switching from bouncing up and down to rotating your hips, dropping down onto your knees. “missed you.”
“i’m all yours,” he breathes, whining when you lean back and hold onto his thighs, raising your hips and swirling on his lap. jihoon reaches forward and presses his thumb to your clit and rubs quick circles on the sensitive nub to get you to your release. “cmon, baby. i k-know you’re close.” he rasps, body flushed with heat.
with a few more rolls of your hips and jihoon rubbing on your clit, you’re coming for the third time. jihoon catches you when you collapse against his chest, wrapping his arms around you and sitting up, hard member still inside of you. he cradles you in his arms as he ruts his hips upwards, getting himself to his own release shortly after, your warm heat sucking him in completely.
for a few minutes, you two stay like that on the floor. he holds you against his chest, softly dragging his fingertips up and down your spine. he goes soft inside of you, but deep down he feels like he could go for a third round if he really puts himself to the test, but with the way you’re breathing he knows that you two are done for the night.
sitting in his arms, you clutch him like he’s going to slip from your grasp at any second. you try to push thoughts about your reality away, but the longer he holds onto you the more you realize this probably won’t last beyond tonight. you’re partly okay with it, because he comes home to you. but you miss him. “jihoon,” you murmur.
“hmm?”
“can we talk?”
“always. what’s up?” he asks, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
you pull your chin from his shoulder to look at him, placing your hands on his cheeks. “jihoon, i know you were… bothered… earlier today. talk to me, please,” you say, eyebrows furrowing. he sighs and hugs you back into his chest, feeling like he’s unable to look at you without feeling like crying.
“i know ive been a bad boyfriend. and i felt like shit today because i haven’t spent time with you in what feels like forever, and i just miss you so much, you know? and i love you so much, i don’t want to lose you—ever. and im just so, so sorry,” he rambles, clutching you tightly. your heart breaks for him and yourself. you’d never leave him, not over his job especially. you know he loves you, he shows it even where there is distance. but you appreciate him saying it out loud.
you pull back against his right hold on you, but he relents. “jihoon, im never going to leave you, okay? we just need to talk—you need to tell me when you feel any kind of way, okay? i love you, and you’re not going to lose me. i’m in this for the long haul,” you say, giving him a smile that makes the corner of his lip go up. for good measure, you give him a quick peck and run your hands through his hair. “i do wish you were around more, but i get it. i’ll always be here.”
he drops his head bashfully and sucks in a breath. “okay. i’m sorry.”
“you’re forgiven,” you say, kissing him once more. “but we need to get off this floor, hoon. i’m getting old.” you say, untangling yourself from him. you rise and let out a sigh at the loss of contact. your legs wobble and you catch yourself against the counter, glaring at jihoon when he chuckles. “it’s not funny.”
“it’s cute,” he says, standing up and picking up your guys’ clothes. he holds your dress in his hands and gives it a long look before lightly shaking his head.
“i’ll wear it more if it gets me fucked like this again.”
#svt imagines#svt smut#seventeen smut#seventeen imagines#woozi x reader#woozi x you#woozi smut#lee jihoon smut#lee jihoon x you#jihoon smut#jihoon x reader#svt fluff#woozi fluff
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romantic tension with abby
summary: in the warm glow of abby's bedroom, after a day of shared hobbies, you contemplate your deepening feelings for her and hope that perhaps she feels the same
content: friends (to lovers???), sfw, literally nothing else
notes: i need to write more fluff bc there is such a shortage AND especially with abby. this is like so domestic like in the way that there's no extra interactions. like this is literally how me and a friend would act after a day of painting!! just sleepy and tired zzzzz
(wc 0.7k)
the setting sun cast an orange glow on abby's bedroom where the two of you lay on her floor, bathing in the heat radiating from her large window. you'd just finished painting birdhouses for the married pair of sparrows that frequented the birdseed abby had set out. they would dance around each other and sing their chirpy harmonies and then take turns pecking at the various seeds from the feeder, so abby thought it necessary to handmake them houses in her shop.
this was one of your many duet activities of abby's "grandma hobbies," as you called them. you two had fed the ducks down at the lake, gone through an entire coloring book, built lego sets, and done nearly a dozen puzzles—one of which was glued and framed in abby's kitchen.
you guys spent every free moment of time together, and counted down the time until you could when one was busy. you were the closest of friends, but lately you found yourself wanting more—or at least thinking about how it would be if you were more. coming home to each other instead of making the fifteen-minute drive any time you wanted to see her. being able to actually tell her when she looked so pretty it made you hold your breath instead of chewing on your lip.
she shifted next to you, bending her legs at the knees and pulling you out of your thoughts. "i should probably wash the brushes before the paint dries on them, right?"
you almost tell her she shouldn't so that you could lay with her a little while longer, but you give in. "yeah, you should."
she sits up to stand, grunting as she lifts her body weight and moving to the crafting cloth where your birdhouses currently sat drying. you sat up and leaned against the foot of her bed, watching as she so delicately readjusts the cloth so that it doesn't smudge your paint job.
scrubbing your hands down your face, you push up off the bed and move to grab a sweatshirt of hers to change into, taking your paint-covered tank off and slipping the sweatshirt over your head. it sat baggy on your body with her being bigger than you are just about everywhere, and you threw the hood over your head and dropped onto the right side of her bed.
she returns with her hands patting on her sweats to dry them off. seeing you in the bed, she comes to sit next to you, with you on your back and her laying on her side to face you.
"you wanna just stay the night?" she says, her voice lifting at the end as if it were a question and not a declaration. "it's too late to go home alone."
"yeah, i think i will," you respond. you remember the origami book she bought at the farmer's market last saturday. "only if we make paper cranes until our fingers bleed from paper cuts tomorrow," you grin, turning to look at her and see she's already looking back at you.
"okay. i have lots of band-aids," she jokes.
you chuckle, and the two of you fall into a comfortable silence, sheepishly smiling at the other while holding eye contact.
"can we also get those berry pastries from the cafe? and make those butterflies we saw on pinterest?" you ask, your cheeks still kissing your eyes.
"yeah, i'll wake up early to get them for breakfast," she nods. "and i only got that book so we can make things together—we can make whatever you want."
in place of a response, you slip your fingers between hers and tightly squeeze her hand, ignoring your frustration with the uncertainty of her feelings for you.
the tip of her nose pinks a bit before she opens her mouth. "good night. we need brain power for making cranes."
you turn onto your side as well to face her, your noses nearly touching. "good night, abby," you grin, high on the feel of her skin on yours and the way she's looking at you.
you fall asleep with a smile on your face because your close friend, abby, may just like you, too.
@picklesarenice69 @abbyandersonsrightbuttcheek
yayyy i’m back :3
click here!! oh and here too!! ˶ᵔᵕᵔ˶
#mystellenia 𐑂°‧₊#abby anderson#abby tlou#abby the last of us#abby x reader#abby anderson x reader#abby x y/n#abby x you#tlou#the last of us#tlou hbo#the last of us x reader#the last of us x you#the last of us x y/n#tlou abby#abby anderson tlou2#abby x fem!reader#abby anderson x female reader
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hiii can i pls request zayne with prompt 60 “home”? also love ur writing btw and i look forward to reading more of ur works <333
send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble
60. home
zayne; 2,264 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, fade to black, zayne being a simp as per usual
summary: a friday afternoon
a/n: idk i just love writing dialogue for zayne he's so !!!!
The Hospital - Friday, 4:36PM
Linoleum floors and fluorescent lights; the smell of antiseptic, the rhythmic beeps and hums of heart rate monitors and nebulizer machines. He spends too much time here, knows the flow of the hospital like he knows the web of arteries and capillaries in the human body, the wards branching off of each other, the hustle and bustles of nurses and staff familiar, oppressive.
It is only in the quiet of his own office, with its big windows and even bigger piles of paperwork (be it virtual or physical), that he ever allows himself to relax. He glances at the vase of brightly colored tulips on his desk and allows himself a grin. He remembers the shape of you, can feel the weight of your hand in his as you’d tugged him around the farmer’s market on Sunday morning, pointing at the various vendors, asking to try a bite of this and a bit of that, until finally, you’d come across the flower seller — a middle-aged woman with a sweet smile and a gleeful glint in her eyes as she explained about the language of flowers.
“There’s sunshine in your smile,” you’d repeated, looking down at the yellow tulips before grinning up at Zayne.
“Perfect for you, isn’t it?”
He could hear the tease in your voice, see that familiar playful twinkle in your eyes and he’d raised an eyebrow before wordlessly handing over a few bills from his wallet.
And now the flowers sit, quiet save for all their brilliance, on his desk, in a simple vase filled with crystal-clear water. He stares at it for a second longer before pulling out his phone and swiping it open to your contact.
Coming home early today, he texts. Immediately, a typing bubble appears, and a second later, a short shoomp sound as your reply appears on his screen —
oh? dr. zayne leaving work early??? is the sun setting in the east today?
He chuckles to himself before dialing your line and a second later, your voice answers, a little hesitant.
“Hello?”
“If you’re going to be sarcastic, at least do it in person.”
Shuffling noises, and then — “Not my fault you’re never around for me to be mean to you in person.”
Zayne leans back in his chair with a sigh, “Hn. How’s shopping with Tara?”
“Fun! But my legs are getting tired…”
“I can meet you at the main shopping center around 5:30.”
A moment of quiet, and then “Ah… but that’s still an hour from now…”
Zayne scoffs, “I could stay till 7PM like I usually do —”
“No, no! That’s… that’s not what I meant — I’ll see you at 5:30, then? Don’t be late!”
You end the call before he can protest and for a second, Zayne stares at the screen, the picture of your smiling face fading after another few seconds as the phone screen darkens.
“Doctor? Your next patient is here,” the nurse calls through his closed door.
“Yes, I’ll be right there.” Zayne glances once more at the yellow tulips on his desk before pushing himself up and adjusting his white coat. He’ll have to make a note to change the water soon.
City Center Shopping Mall - Friday, 5:38PM
“You made it!”
Zayne turns at the sound of your voice to find you slightly breathless as you jog up to him, coming to a stop a few steps away.
“You sound surprised.”
A blush dusts your cheeks as you avert your eyes, “I — I’m not! I just thought… you might be a bit later than this.”
Zayne keeps his expression neutral even as he reaches out to take your hand, casually lacing his fingers between yours. He feels you give him a small squeeze and contents himself with letting you take the lead as the pair of you start to wander through the mall, glancing at the window displays.
“Oh… that smells good!” you both pause as the smell of scallions and garlic warms the air. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, “I think it’s coming from that restaurant over there! Tara was telling me that it just opened a week ago and it’s already going viral online for their stuffed pancakes —”
“C’mon then.” Zayne starts off for the restaurant.
“W-wait! We don’t have a reservation! We’ll never get in!”
Zayne keeps walking, gently tugging you behind him till you both round the corner to see a truly impressive line outside the restaurant doors. He walks passed the massive line straight to the front where a smiling girl in a flowery apron stands at an electronic podium, taking down the names of the next party in line.
“Is Liam here?”
“O-oh! Uhm, I think so!” the girl blinks, surprised as she looks down at her reservation list, “May I ask who’s asking?”
“Zayne.”
The girl nods as she slips into the restaurant. Beside him, you look up, confused.
“Do you know someone here?”
Zayne nods but doesn’t explain any further as the smiling girl comes back and motions for you both to follow her.
“Right this way Dr. Zayne! Enjoy your meal!”
Zayne gives your hand a small tug as you stumble after him, the confusion on your face blossoming into something like surprise as the pair of you duck into the bustling restaurant to be greeted by an enthusiastic young man, around Zayne’s age, his sleeves rolled up, a bandana tied around his forehead.
“Zayne! You should’ve told me you were coming!”
“It was a last-minute decision,” Zayne supplies, shaking Liam’s hand firmly, pulling you into his side even as Liam’s eyes slide onto you.
“Oh… is this the girl you were always talking about back in —”
“I think we’ll take a booth in the back, thanks,” Zayne cuts him off with a loud cough, already making for the back of the restaurant. Liam laughs good-naturedly, leading you both to a booth tucked in the very corner, away from most of the noise and bustle.
You inch into the booth, casting Zayne a curious look.
“Is that the owner? How do you know him?”
Zayne doesn’t look up as he glances over the menu before pushing it towards you.
“We went to medical school together. Pick anything you want, it’s all very good.”
Your eyebrows shoot up, “And he decided to become a chef instead?”
Zayne’s lips twitch, “Is that so unbelievable?”
You shrug, looking down at the menu at last, pursing your lips, “No… it’s just… did he drop out of med school then?”
Zayne shakes his head, “No, he was one of the best in our year.”
“Oh. Then…?”
Zayne taps the menu, “I thought you were hungry.”
You blush, looking down, “I am!”
It’s not till the middle of the meal that Zayne speaks again —
“He said it didn’t make him happy.”
You look up, your cheeks bulging with food. Zayne watches you swallow with a concerted effort, reaching out to wipe at your lips with an indulgent smile even as you swat at his hand.
“Liam? About… being a doctor?”
“Yes. And… in a way, I understood him. He said that the kitchen’s always felt more like home.”
You purse your lips, looking at your half-eaten stuffed pancake.
“Then… does the hospital feel like home? To you?”
Zayne chuckles, leaning forward to add some more veggies to your bowl with his chopsticks.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Then…” you trail off, waiting for his answer. There’s a familiar color seeping into your cheeks as Zayne looks you over before his eyes flicker down to your bowl.
“Eat. Or else the veggies will go cold.”
Zayne’s Apartment - Friday, 7:01PM
“I’m so full!” you slump down onto his couch with a long sigh, patting your stomach.
“You were the one who wanted seconds of dessert,” Zayne says, hanging up his coat and turning to join you on the couch. You make a small noise as he lifts your legs and lays them across his lap, his thumbs absently digging into the backs of your calves.
“Ow…” you make to jerk your leg away as he hits a knot but he only grips your ankle and pulls it back with a soft tut.
“Hold still.”
You bury your face in one of the couch cushions as he continues to silently knead at your calf muscles.
“There, better?” his voice is soft now, tugging on the frayed ends of your subconscious as you turn your head to blink at him, a bit dazed.
“Yeah… lots better. Thanks.”
You make to get up but he loops an arm around your back and lifts you easily from the couch, bridal style.
“Zayne?”
“You’re staying the night, right?” he asks, even as he makes for the bedroom.
“I — I am?”
He glances down at your face as he sets you down on his bed.
“I can still drive you home if you want —” He makes to pull away.
“No! I — I can stay. I mean — I want to stay.” You reach up to tug at his shirt, fingers crumpling the material as he stills. You can feel your cheeks blazing as his gaze flickers over your face before settling on your lips.
“Alright then.”
There’s a breath’s pause before you give his shirt another tentative tug and he tips forward with the motion, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.
A soft groan bubbles out of you as Zayne presses you back and back and back, until he’s caged over you, trailing hot lips down the line of your neck, skimming his teeth along your collarbones.
“Mm — Z-Zayne…?”
He pulls back, his eyes a bit unfocused as he looks you over — you can feel the weight of his gaze as it flutters over the planes and ridges of your face, from the arch of your brows to the line of your nose. You can’t help blushing beneath this intense scrutiny, and you tug once more at his shirt, your fingers somehow having inched up to his collar, one of your fingers hooked into the top loop of his buttons.
He reaches up to cover your hand with his, fingers easily curling around your smaller hand.
“What is it?”
You lick your lips, stomach twisting, the base rumble of his voice sending shivers shaking through your body.
“Nothing just… I don’t remember you drinking at dinner so…”
He leans down to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand before dropping it back to his shirt collar.
“No, but… alcohol’s not the only thing that might cause someone to lose hold of their senses…”
You watch as his eyes darken at your intake of breath, the way his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.
“Then…” you swallow, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his lips trail back up your neck to your jaw.
“Are you going to make me say it?”
You let out a tiny whimper as he presses a leg up between yours, his breath now hot against the lobe of your ear.
“Say… what?”
Zayne pulls back just far enough to cock an eyebrow at you. And like this, you’ve never seen anything so alluring — the sight of him with his shirt tugged open, his eyes blown dark with desire, his hair slightly mussed from your eager fingers, his lips kissed pink, his cheeks warm with color.
“Hn. Is this my punishment then?”
“For what?”
“For being late to meet you.”
You fight back a grin, “Well… you did say I could be mean to you in person.”
Zayne lets out a sigh, “Alright then.”
You walk your fingers up his chest before pushing him back till you’re both sitting up again. He waits patiently for you to push him down and straddle his hips, slowly tugging open the buttons of his shirt, loosening his tie till it hangs undone around his neck. You lean in to press a soft kiss to his chest and revel in the way he hisses.
His fingers reach up for your hips and you catch them with a quick shake of your head.
“No touching… not till I say.”
Zayne stares at you for a second before relaxing and letting his hands fall back onto the sheets.
And it’s not until you lean down to kiss at his exposed abdomen that he groans, head tipping back. Then, a second later, you find yourself pinned beneath him, breathless, Zayne towering over you with parted lips, the moon casting stark shadows along the lines of his face.
“I said you could be mean… I didn’t say I wouldn’t retaliate.”
After, when the pair of you are curled into each other like pieces of jigsaw puzzle that’s finally found its missing parts, his breath warm along the nape of your neck, Zayne finds himself smiling.
“It’s always been you…” he murmurs, though he’s nearly certain you’re already asleep, your breathing sweet and level, your body pliant and perfect against his.
He laces his hands between yours and drops a soft kiss onto the skin of your bare shoulder.
“It doesn’t matter what I do… or where I do it… because my home has always been… you.”
#love and deepspace#love & deepsace x reader#love and deepspace x you#zayne imagines#zayne x you#zayne love and deepspace#zayne x reader#zayne drabbles#love and deepspace fic#love and deepspace x reader#lads headcanons#lads x reader#l&ds x reader#love & deepspace#love and deepspace zayne#lads zayne#lads zayne x you#love and deepspace fluff#x reader#floofy floof floof#scheduled post
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dinner activities
boyfriend!harry x original character
choking, bits of praise, oral f receiving, p in v
I stood at the kitchen sink, washing the fresh produce I had gotten at the farmers market. Strawberries, cherries, apples, mangos. I wanted to make a giant fruit salad for when Harry got home. He had been working late nights in the studio all week, and today was the first night he would actually be home early. I wanted nothing more than to spend time with him, having him hold me. Being his girlfriend with his schedule was often tough, but he was worth every moment of it.
Once I had finished washing all the fruit I moved over to the kitchen island, pulling out our giant wooden cutting board and starting to cut up the fruit. I would pop some in my mouth as I went, enjoying the sweetness against my tongue. As I chopped I heard the front door open, Harry walking in. His hair was tied up in a bun, loose black shirt and grey sweats on his body. He was always so handsome to me this way. I loved a man in a suit, but with Harry, sweats and nothing else was his best outfit.
"Hello darling," he smiled at me, taking off his shoes before walking over to me. I turned and looked at him as he approached, he leaned in, kissing me gently. His lips moved on mine slowly, and though the kiss ended, his lips lingered on mine. I smiled against it, feeling him smile too.
"I've missed you today, Lacey, a lot." He whispered, pulling away and leaning back against the island. I couldn't help but notice how his arm muscles flexed as he held his weight up.
"I've been missing you this entire week if we are being honest." I smiled small, popping a piece of mango in my mouth. He opened his mouth at me causing me to giggle and I grabbed a piece, feeding it to him. He caught my hand as I did, licking the juice of fruit off my fingers.
I narrowed my eyes at him a bit, pulling my hand back, "Behave yourself, Harry Edward."
"I'm afraid I don't know how, Lace." He smirked, a devilish dimple on his left cheek.
I rolled my eyes, pushing away from the island to wash my hands before coming back to cut more fruit. As I did, he slipped behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist, his chin resting on my shoulder.
"Is this dinner?" He asked and I nodded.
"Yeah, I hope that's fine? I can also grill some salmon if you want." I said, chopping up some kiwi had left before it went bad.
"Mmm, no, this is fine darling." He said, his face turning and kissing my neck, slowly at first, the tip of his tongue teasing small licks on my neck, each met after with a kiss.
I inhaled sharply, my grip tightening on the knife as I licked my lips. He knew what he was doing and I knew what he wanted; but I wanted to make him work for it.
"How was the studio?" I said, holding my voice steady, though I could feel my stomach tighten.
He chuckled a bit, "Good actually. I finished two tracks. Just ten more to go."
"You got this baby," I said, as he reached over and grabbed a strawberry. He brought it up to my lips and I took a bite out of it. As I chewed it, I felt him run the strawberry down my neck, the juice spreading across it. His lips soon began sucking down my neck, his tongue licking up the mess he had made.
"Harry, what are you doing." I said, my grip loosening on the knife, my eyes fluttering close slightly.
"Mm, nothing." He breathed against my neck, his voice so low and deep, nipping at my neck gently, "Just enjoying my dinner."
I shook my head a bit, biting my lip, "It's not even ready, you're going to spoil it."
"Mm, I'm just helping with the preparation, that's all." He said, his voice still low. He popped the rest of the strawberry in his mouth, as his other hand began moving down my waistline, around to the front of my stomach. He moved it further down my front, his fingers teasing along my center, causing my legs to squeeze together, the knife dropping from my hand completely.
"Baby..." I whimpered as he began rolling his fingers over my clit.
"Keep making dinner Lacey." He said sternly, there was a lust in his voice and I nodded, swallowing. His dominance was always something that drove me insane, I loved it every bit of it. I swallowed, steadying myself and grabbing the knife. I took a deep breath and kept cutting the fruit, careful not to cut myself as I did.
His hand slid back up to my stomach only to push under the band of my leggings and underwear. His fingers pressed against my bare clit, my head falling back slightly at the feel. I bit my lip, looking back down at the fruit, concentrating on cutting it. As I did, I watched his hand come back to the cut fruit, picking up a piece of kiwi. I felt him move the kiwi over my earlobe, and down to the spot right behind it on my neck.
"Now you're just being plain mean." I said, clearing my throat. He knew these were my weak spots, he knew I would completely give in to anything.
He moved his face close to my ear, chuckling a bit, "I don't know what you mean. I think I'm being quite nice right now." He said, his teeth on my earlobe biting it softly, only for him to begin to suck on it, "And the best part of it is, none of this will taste as delicious as what I know is between your thighs." He said before moving to the spot on my neck, his fingers moving quicker on my clit, causing my to push my ass backwards onto him.
I could feel his hard cock the moment I did, and I decided, he wasn't the only one who could be a tease. I began to roll my hips back onto him, my ass moving up and down his hardening cock. When he bit down on the area behind my ear, I knew I was working him up.
"Bloody hell, Lacey." He said, as he placed his entire hand flat against my middle, pushing me back against him, "Fuck the fruit, come here." He quickly wrapped his hand tight around my neck, the kiwi he was still holding spreading all over my neck but I didn't care. I let go of the knife, bracing myself on the counter.
My head fell back onto his shoulder and soon his lips were on my neck. His tongue cleaning up the mess he made, his teeth dragging along my neck. His other hand moved so he could slip a finger in me, then another.
"Oh..fuck." I moaned out, my hips stilling moving on him; causing his fingers to sink deeper in me as I did. He curled his fingers inside me, pushing against my sweet spot, the spot he only knew the perfect location too.
"So wet for me, darling, god I can't wait to slip inside you, to fill you up." He groaned in my ear, his words causing my nerve endings to ignite everywhere, my body craving to be touched by him. His lips never left my neck, always coming back, and sucking hard on me. Peppering kisses all along the length of it.
"I want you to fuck me, Harry." I moaned out, my grip tightening on the counter, his fingers moving in and out of me as I grind my body on them. I was going to come, it wasn't go to take much to get me there in this position.
He dragged his hand down from my neck, over my breasts, palming at them and further spreading the kiwi over my white tank and I didn't care. He was making me a mess both physically and mentally. His hand kept moving down my body, gripping tightly at my skin, moving down to my middle, pushing my leggings and underwear down. He grabbed on tight to the band so he could push them down, lowering them to my mid-thigh. He brought his hand to my clit, moving quick circles over it, causing my movements on him to stop.
"Har-Harry, oh my god..." I reached back, grabbing onto him for support, "Baby..ba..uh...I'm going to come. Plea—" he didn't stop moving in and out of me, his fingers rolling on my clit so deliciously.
"Come for me darling, come for me and I'll fuck you right after, come for me." He purred in my ear, motivating me. I could feel my core tightening and the more I thought about him slipping his length inside of me the closer I got to my high.
I turned my face to him, our eyes locking and soon our lips were on each others, his tongue finding mine, running along it. This was all I needed, I melted instantly, coming all over his fingers. My legs squeezed shut, my mouth off of his, hanging open, no sound coming from me. He moved his fingers from my clit, still moving his fingers in me as I rode out my high.
"Oh...oh that felt so good babe, oh..." I finally chuckled out, causing him to laugh a bit and kiss my cheek.
"And to think, I'm not even done," he said, removing his fingers from inside me. He placed both his hands on my hips, sliding them up my body, bringing my tank with them, slipping it over my head. He turned me around pushing the fruit and the cutting board to the side lifting me up in the counter. He grabbed the knife, turning around and throwing it in the sink.
He stepped back a bit, licking his lips and taking me in. He reached back, pulling on the collar of his shirt and slipping it over his head. As he did, I unhooked my bra, slipping it off of me and throwing it to the side. I locked eyes with him as he unbuttoned his pants, biting my lip and breaking eye contact to face the fruit. I reached over and grabbed a strawberry, turning back to face him as I bit into it. I ran the fleshy, wet fruit along my lips, running it down my neck. I trailed it over my nipples, watching as he smirked at me. By now he was just as naked as me, and he moved toward me, his lips meeting mine. Kissing me hungrily, sucking in my lower lip, biting it and claiming it as his own.
His lips began to wander down my neck, following the trail I had mapped out for him with the strawberry, his tongue moving over my nipples, sucking on them as his hands held my breasts up to his mouth. He kept trailing a path down my body with his mouth, ending at my middle, his tongue lapping over my folds, taking in all my wetness, before settling on my clit. He rolled his tongue on it, and I instinctively reached down, I pulled on the elastic holding back his long hair, pulling it until his hair was freed. He groaned, because I wasn't gentle and I couldn’t help but chuckle. I wrapped my hand in his hair, my fingers tangling in it, pushing him hard against me. I moved my middle against his tongue, my head falling back, taking in every bit of pleasure I was feeling because of it. I felt greedy, but only for a moment.
"Mmm, oh god I could fuck your mouth all night," I moaned, his chuckle vibrating against me causing me to laugh as well. He pulled away from my middle and I hated how much stronger he was than me that he was able to do this.
He stood up straight, leaning forward and kissing me, "You're a spoiled brat tonight."
I narrowed my eyes at him, "All you have to do is ask." I said, reaching down between us and taking his length in my hand, running up and down it. I stopped only to spit on my hand, to add more slick.
I moved over his tip, running my palm over it like I knew he liked, "I'll never pass up a chance to make you feel good baby, never pass up a chance to remind you how much I love you."
I bit my lip at him and he leaned his forehead down on mine, "God, I love you, Lacey." He pushed down, and kissed me deeply. His hand reaching up and choking me as he did, he pushed my head back moving his lips from mine, locking eyes with me, "I love you so damn much." He said, my hand moving up and down his length, I could feel his veins on his cock pulse, and he bit his lip, letting go of my neck to reach down and remove my hand from his length.
"I don't want to come that way," he said, moving to remove my leggings from me completely. He picked me up in his arms, bringing me back down to the floor and turning me back around, bending me over the kitchen island, "I want to come like this."
He pushed his length into me, giving me no mercy. No moment to adjust. He rocked his hips against me, moving in and out of me. His strokes were long and hard, his fingers digging into my hips as he did.
"God, you feel so fucking good baby, fuck Lacey." He said, his pace picking up. He reached down and lifted my right leg up on the counter, allowing him deeper in me, and I yelled out in pleasure. I squeezed against his length, feeling every bit of him fill me up.
"Fuck, Harry. Oh fuck baby...."
"Is that good for you darling, huh? Tell me how good I feel baby." He groaned, his hand wrapping around my waist, moving up to cup my breast, palming at them as he pulled me against him.
"So fucking good, Har..Harry, oh..." I moaned, turning to look at him, leaning up and kissing him messily. We kissed and moaned against each others lips. I couldn't keep my eyes from rolling back into my head. He felt so damn good, his movements were so aggressive, so sure of what they were doing.
"Oh, Lace...I don't think I can...fu-oh you feel so fucking good. Bloody hell." He groaned, leaning his head down and biting at my shoulder.
His movements were becoming sloppy, he was clinging onto me tighter, as if holding on for dear life.
"I'll come with you baby, keep going please." I said, using my leg to help me move up and down his length. He hissed as I began my movements, helping me move on him, holding my hips.
"Lacey...oh baby. That's it, oh fuck me like that. Oh...fucks sake, I'm going to com—me too, I'm coming Harry...I'm.." I interrupted, as we both came together. I fell back against his body as he fell forward on mine. I chuckled, riding out my high. He laced kisses along my back, bringing small chills along my body. He attempted to pull out and I squeezed against him.
"Fucks sakes woman, you're going to murder me." He said and I giggled, relaxing so he could pull out. We both groaned at the sensation, and he continued to place kisses along my back, "I love you, Lace."
"I love you, too."
#harry styles#fanfic#harry styles fanfic rec#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles ff#harry styles au#boxer x harry styles#harry styles blurb#harry styles x original character#boyfriend!harry#boyfriend!harry styles#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x oc#harry ff#harry styles smut#harry smut
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Part 2 - Grocery Shopping
Slasher Handler Masterlist
You’re at the big grocery store, again, in the baking aisle. Your neighbor had eaten an entire pan of brownies, minus the square you’d saved for your self, in a night. He’s large, you reason, so it’s flattering but not surprising. So you grab another box to have on hand and meander to the end of the aisle. Then you round the corner and listen.
Riley Simmons has been following you. He’s very good at being unnoticed, for such a big man. It took more than a week for you to catch on. If he was the only factor, you wouldn’t have. What finally tipped you off was the way conversations around you would lull, then come back to life just a little quieter. Hushed. Careful not to draw attention.
The couple having a rather polite argument over gluten-free box mix go quiet for just a moment. Then they say a couple of things you can’t hear and push their cart in the opposite direction.
You wait three seconds before rounding back into the aisle, and there he is almost on top of you. His face, for a moment, is blank. Not carefully. Not “holding my emotions in so no one can see them.” Blank like nothing is there, except a deep hunger in his eyes.
And then he smiles, and says, “Hello.”
“Hi Riley,” you say with a grin.
“You always shop on Wednesdays?” he asks, like he doesn’t already know.
“Most weeks!” You chirp, walking back to the brownie mix and grabbing another box. “When the weather is good, I like to go to the farmer’s market.”
You could withhold your schedule. You could try to throw him off, hide your movements, avoid him as much as possible. You could ask friends and co-workers to walk with you so you’re not alone. You could do everything you should to protect yourself.
Riley has followed you to the grocery store three weeks in a row. He’s followed you to work twice that you know of.
“Did you just get here?” You ask, smiling up at him. “We can finish shopping together.”
He says nothing, just takes the basket from your hand and gestures for you to walk ahead of him. So you go, strolling up and down the aisles with a tiger at your back and eyes firmly forward. You get your usual items, plus two bottles of the good olive oil, since it’s on sale. The glass clinks when you put them in the basket.
“You’re so quiet,” you chuckle. “Maybe these will keep me from bumping into you!”
Riley looks amused and makes sure you’re watching as he wedges cheese between the bottles. None of the other items dare to make a sound.
“Maybe I want you to bump into me,” he says. “Finally give me an excuse.”
What an exceedingly creepy thing to say, you can’t help but think to yourself. And, because your wires are crossed, you can’t help but find it endearing. Charming even. With most men, you have to guess when you're in danger. With Riley, you're certain all the time.
You grin up at him. “Well, I guess there’s still time today!”
Sometimes the best way to protect yourself is to ease closer to danger.
#dragonnarrativewrites fanfiction#my writing#cod#fanfiction#simon ghost riley#dark fic#simon riley x you#slasher handler#manic pixie dream ghost
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o.s. the phone call regarding the onions
summary: richie won't stop calling and despite how busy carmen is, he picks up the phone. he didn't know richie would take so long to tell him about his trip to the farmer's market, let alone how impatient you would be in his lap (carmen berzatto x afab!reader)
reflection: i wrote this last night and edited it this afternoon. i find i have a hard time writing dialogue because i always want it to flow with my other descriptions. it's tricky for me, so this was an interesting challenge for myself. indulgent? yes. but intriguing nonetheless. as always, enjoy, and feedback is always appreciated!
warnings: cursing, kissing, phone call during sex, riding, religious allusions, more cursing, pussydrunk!carmen (the best kind), longwinded descriptions, slander of the elderly, cynicism, filth, secret girlfriend!reader, humorous dialogue, richie being richie, set before or during season 1 ig, double entendre ending, very slight dirty talk, overuse of the word "cousin" (please let me know if there are other warnings i need to add)
word count: 2,101
“Are you even listening to me, Cousin?” Richie’s voice irritates Carmen’s eardrum drastically more than it usually does, and that’s saying something considering how his tone and words always sift right under the flesh of Carmen’s forearms to scrape against his bones. He should really tell Richie to shut the fuck up, to get to the godforsaken point of this overdrawn story about his trip to the grocers, but Carmen can’t find the speech in him to do so. As a defensive and sharp individual, Carmen seldom runs into the issue of not being able to come back with a witty remark of his own speckled in a seasoning of honesty, but his brain’s already having difficulty concentrating on his shallow breathing. If he loses focus on that particular aspect, he would never hear the end of it. Richie’s too much of a pain in the ass to hang up on, in fact, he’s part of the reason Carmen’s in this predicament.
Richie just had to keep on calling over and over and over and over again. Carmen’s phone buzzed and buzzed and buzzed and the motherfucker on the other end would not take the fucking hint. Carmen recalls catching the flustered, frustrated, and deprived expression on your features as you looked at him, disappointment in your blown pupils because you knew you had to climb off his lap in the middle of your shared fun. Carmen assured you that it wouldn’t take long, to remain where you were because he couldn’t bear to depart from your heat for a single second in this state of mind, the state of nothingness possessed by desire. He’s confronted that compelling phenomenon too often with you and it’s absolutely everything for him. Richie’s call, Carmen surmised and explained to you during the fifth ring, would only take three minutes, five at the most.
Carmen forgets how bad at math he is until it smacks him upside the face and attempts to ruin his day. Richie’s been yapping on the line for about… how long has it been? Carmen stares up at the ceiling, phone pressed to his ear, pink lips parting as your tongue and teeth glissade down his neck. He can feel his body’s primal need to roll his eyes far into the back of his head, but he somehow sustains his half lidded gaze so he can raise his phone away from his ear to check the call’s duration.
14:53. 14:54. 14:55.
Seriously? Fifteen minutes of this bullshit? Carmen’s close to tossing his phone across the room so he can fuck you properly against his bedroom door, but he knows Richie. Richie would bolt on over here to tell Carmen his story in person, stomp away on Carmen’s remnants of alone time with you before he’s back to busting his ass in the kitchen. Carmen can’t have that. A fucking crowbar couldn’t pry you off his cock, and he’s sighing out shakily, pushing the mic away from his mouth far off to the side of the couch and into the cushion so he can release the tendril of fucked out noise you’re igniting in his stomach. Its smoke is climbing up and up, swirling around his lungs, collapsing into purrs and grunts of pleasure since he can’t be any louder than that. You haven’t made his mistake easy on him, fluttering your walls around him, arching as you rise and fall, adding in your lips and dutiful tongue into the sum of his impending eruption. He notices the twinkle atop the slim rings of your irises, how in awe and turned on you are from hearing those little noises he can’t will himself to wrangle down.
Do you like that?
He mouths.
Yes,
you nod your head.
For a moment, resolve slips. Carmen’s other hand maneuvers from gripping the throw pillow on his couch to gripping your thigh, sliding slightly down where he sits so he can roll his hips up into you. He revels in the gasp you inhale, your hands steadying yourself by the use of his shoulders. A ghost of a smile forms on his lips catching your pout and he’s about to inform you to behave when his phone speaks from under the cushion, still in Carmen’s other hand as he was trying to metaphorically and literally smother Richie, but the bastard’s gumption defeats Carmen’s efforts. He tightens his top and bottom lip together as he snatches the phone in agitation from under the cushion to lift it back to his ear.
“Carmy? Carmy? I’m fucking talking to you, Carmy,” Richie grits out, the bass in his voice scratching an unpleasant portion of Carmen’s ear. Carmen shuts his eyes, instructing himself soundlessly to breathe in through his nose and out through his mouth… the same mouth you kiss, your hands cupping his cheeks, tongue shyly petting his. He should put a stop to it. He’s powerless when you kiss him, it’s why he avoided doing so this entire phone call with Richie. He knew he couldn’t stop you, the hand once at your thigh palming up to your ass, his middle finger slipping under the fabric of your lacy panties that you still had on. It rests there, like it’s part of the ensemble (or lack of), twitching and clutching as the lace hugs him and tethers his digit to you.
“Hey, bozo, are you going to answer me or not?” Richie snarls, and Carmen almost tells him to fuck off, but you’re the one who takes mercy on him. Your mouth slides back down, lapping over a sensitive vein in his neck. Carmen finds himself falling back into the couch, licking his dry lips, a desire in him present to curse his friend out.
“I hear you, Richie, I fucking hear you,” Carmen blurts suddenly. He’s got a breathy rasp to him due to the sex, crimson in the face, yelling almost in the same fashion he does at work. You hide your amused grin under your hair as you tenderly kiss his jaw, picking up the speed of your hips. Before, your movements were gentle and small. But now, you have intention as you fuck yourself on Carmen’s cock, sucking spots on his skin to conceal your moans away. The worst part is that even though Carmen can barely hear them, he can feel the hum of each one vibrating against his flesh. And it feels like he knows you sound. How does someone begin to describe that? The walls of a cathedral must know exactly what he’s experiencing, angelic hums reverberating through their surfaces, etching sound waves into crevices and making them whole. That’s it. He feels whole. Complete. It’s almost as good as when he swallows those moans into his mouth and feels them alive in his throat.
“Yeah? Yeah? Then what the fuck did I say, huh?”
Shit… yeah, what the fuck did he say? Carmen’s horrid at multitasking outside his craft and he’s especially inept at maintaining his control and composure when he’s watching his secret girlfriend impale herself repeatedly on his throbbing length. He closes his eyes again to subtract sight’s distraction, middle finger sweeping back and forth so that your lace can rub his knuckle and jog along his memory. Oddly enough, it helps him collect the thoughts you’re so keen on dissipating with those gorgeous, enticing hips of yours.
“You said… you went to the farmer’s market,” Carmen begins, gulping heavily as you clench. “You went to… uh,” Carmen tilts his phone away from his mouth, biting hard on his index finger to refrain from hissing out. He glares at you, you’re being unfair, and the mischief is written all over your gaze despite the innocent smile you attempt to give him. He’s definitely going to pay this back. He’s not a saint, he holds grudges, and he’s harboring one against you for almost causing him to moan into his phone.
“Carmy,” Richie disrupts Carmen’s plans for vengeance and fortunately, Carmen instantly recalls what they were talking about like an epiphany, no thanks to you.
“You went to pick up the onions!” Carmen rushes, his syllables spilling over one another. He hates how he sounds. It’s different from his regular speaking voice and if they weren’t dealing with shitty cell service, Richie probably would’ve noticed.
“Then, what? I’ve been talking for almost twenty minutes,” oh, Carmen fucking knows, “and that’s all you’ve gotten from that?”
“Richie,” Carmen says as sternly as he can as your tightness sinks to his base. He sucks onto his upper row of teeth, pulsing increasing, lighting up with heat inside of your delectable walls. This is your fault, too. You and your enveloping warmth. You and your pretty face and your pretty cunt and your persistent needs, your pliant open legs as you ride him and make him drunk without a smidgen of alcohol around. He might as well have bathed himself in scotch, the effects most likely easier to handle than the vise you’ve got on his mind, body, and cock. “Did you, or did you not get the fucking onions?”
Richie scoffs, “Ugggghhhhhhh,” into Carmen’s ear. Annoyed by it, Carmen grips his phone tighter as he pushes it away from his head for as long as Richie does it. He shakes his hair out of his eyes as he retracts the phone back to its original position, his stare greedily finding where his cock disappears and reappears with more and more of that wonderful slick that glides him in deeper and deeper. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you! The fucking old broad from the lot gave me that dirty ass look as she took all of the product right in front of me. What the fuck is some old chick with a bad hip going to do with sixteen onions, Carmy? She had her stumbling grandson with his little toddler hands dropping the motherfuckers on the floor right in front of me because he couldn’t carry them all. Like, are you kidding me? Are you cooking French Onion soup for the whole neighborhood? For the next winter?”
“Richie,” Carmen grinds out as you grind down on him. His teeth clatter as he scrapes them together. “Richie… Richie…” He can’t gain Richie’s attention back as he rants in Carmen’s ear, as you swivel your hips and whine at the stretch. Carmen’s holding himself back, painfully hard from the experience you’re condoning.
“Next time I see her, it’s on. Watch what fucking soup she can make when I buy the whole stock and flip her the bird,” Richie continues, the sound of a trunk being harshly slammed on the other end. But Carmen’s had enough. He can’t take it anymore. He feels feral, he’s going to burst any second and he refuses to do so with Richie still on the line.
“Cousin, Cousin, Cousin, Cousin,” Carmen parrots, rolling his eyes as he increases his volume with each repetition.
On the other side, Richie talks over him. “She’s driving some ugly ass Pontiac, no wonder she’s bitter.”
“Cousin, Cousin, listen to me.”
“Do you think they’ll notice me if I take a stab at one of her tires?”
“Richie!”
“Nah, you’re right, it looks like there’s a bunch of fucking narcs around here.”
“Motherfucker, stop talking,” Carmen spits and that’s when Richie shouts back, his own irritation building because that entire time, he could hear Carmen babbling on and on. Apparently no one knows how to listen to a fucking story anymore.
“What? What, Carmy?” Richie responds with a yell. He must be inside of his car because Carmen heard a crash right after. Carmen pinches the bridge of his nose having finally snaked his other hand away from your underwear.
“So, you’re telling me… you don’t have the onions?” Carmen asks.
Richie sighs. The reason he felt the need to orate what happened is because of Carmen’s temper regarding the restaurant. He had one task today and he failed it because of some greedy elderly woman. Though, he understands how Carmen’s busy. Through this phone call, Richie hasn’t been able to hold his Cousin’s focus for very long. He doesn’t think there was any interval longer than three minutes where he had it all to himself.
“No, I… I don’t ha—”
The line goes dead. Richie looks down at his phone, fully tempted to call Carmen one more time to explain himself and make his stubborn, mule-headed friend see his point of view for once. He only doesn’t because he swears Carmen sounded like he was about to explode.
#l4l.writes#carmen berzatto#carmen berzatto x reader#the bear#the bear series#jeremy allen white#richie jerimovich#the phone call regarding the onions#l4l.oneshot
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It Hits Different This Time
Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rock Star Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington
Part One / Part Two / Part Three / Part Four / Part Five
“Steve.”
He hears Robin knocking on the door, her knuckles tapping firmly against the wood.
“STEVE.”
He’s lying on the bed in Robin’s guest bedroom, limbs starfished across the plush gray comforter, staring at the ceiling fan. Taylor Swift is singing to him, blasting from the Alexa speaker next to him.
Oh my, love is a lie, shit my friends say to get me by
“Alexa, volume up.”
“Steve – STEVE!”
It hits different, it hits different this time
“Alexa, off,” Robin says as she marches into the room. Taylor’s voice cuts off almost immediately and Steve huffs, frustrated.
“Steve, as much as I love listening to your ‘Sad Taylor Swift’ playlist, you need to eat something. Go for a walk. Take a shower.”
“I’d rather not.”
Sighing, Robin kicks his left leg until he’s made enough room for her to collapse down beside him and gaze up at the spinning fan.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“No.”
They lay in silence.
“It’s just – our three-year anniversary, Robin.”
“I know.”
“He didn’t even text me.”
“I know.”
“And the supermodels at the club! And the tweets!”
“I know, Steve.”
There’s moisture pricking at the inside of his eyes now. “I just – it’s dumb, okay? I thought we could make this work. But I guess I’m not as important to him as he is to me.”
“Dingus,” Robin chides, and he turns his face away so she can’t see that he’s actually crying now. (She still probably knows that he is; Robin always knows. He just doesn’t want anyone to see.) “Okay, is Eddie Munson a huge idiot? Yes, and he has been for as long as we’ve known him. Is he kind of an asshole now that he’s famous? Yes. Do I think this is the end? Not necessarily.”
Steve snorts. “It’s been four days, Robin. Nothing for four days. I think it’s already ended.”
Robin cuddles up to his side so now they’re legitimately snuggling together. “Look, all I’m saying is he’s going to be back in the state in a few days and I think you owe it yourself to at least have a conversation with him. Either you two decide to work things out and start communicating better or you decide that he’s not pulling his weight to make his relationship work and you get closure. Either way, I think you need to talk to him.”
“Yeah,” Steve sniffles. “You’re probably right.”
“Steven, I’m always right.”
“I’m sorry, do you want to talk about the Pixar question you fumbled on trivia night?”
“Dingus, I swear to god if you don’t let it go - ”
/////
Eddie’s groggy and nauseous and fuck the sun is too bright. He pulls at the window-shades as he stumbles into their kitchen, dropping his Louis Vuitton bag on the floor. The fact that he’s managing to walk while coming down from a five day bender that he barely fucking remembers is kind of a miracle.
“Steve! Stevie, baby, I’m home!”
Silence.
What day is it today, Saturday? He’s probably at the farmer’s market with Robin. Eddie’s a few days early anyways, wanted it to be a surprise. And honestly, it’s probably a good thing Steve’s not home, Eddie needs to keep sobering up.
He pulls a fresh bottle of water out of the fridge and collapses onto the restored dining-room chairs they bought a few months ago. He tips it back and drinks it down greedily, swallowing the cool water down his aching throat. “Oh, that’s good,” he moans to himself, dropping the now empty bottle onto the dining room table.
The empty bottle that clangs against something. Squinting, Eddie opens his eyes and looks down.
There’s a small box sitting at his spot, a card laying haphazardly onto the side. It looks like someone opened it and scribbled all over what they originally wrote.
Eddie frowns and grabs for the card. It’s Steve’s writing. Whatever he’s crossed out is unreadable. Instead, all there is is the following:
I would say Happy Anniversary, but judging by the fact that (1) you didn’t return my call or even text me back and (2) the paps caught you at the club with the guys and a bunch of supermodels instead, I’m going to assume that you’re not interested in celebrating it anymore.
Eddie feels his stomach sink so fast that he’s going to lose all the water he just drank.
Look, Eds, I am so proud of you for making your dream come true. I would never ask you to give that up or sacrifice your music for me. But I’m tired of feeling alone in this relationship. Of feeling like you don’t love me as much as I love you. Because I would do anything for you, but I think this all proves that you wouldn’t do the same for me.
Anyways, I still want you to have your gift. It wouldn’t make sense to give it to anyone else.
Your biggest fan, Steve
He can’t see straight and it’s not because of the drugs. He can’t breathe and it’s not because of his asthma or his wicked smoking habit.
He grabs the small box, flips it open, and chokes back a sob.
It’s a perfect replica of Aragorn’s ring, the ring he’s given that proves he is Isilduir’s heir. He’s wanted it foryears, but it was never something that he thought he could buy for himself. Sure, he could buy whatever random luxury shit without a sweat, but something so meaningful to him? Because reading The Lord of the Rings saved his fucking life in high school? His brain couldn’t deal with him buying it for himself. His therapist says it’s one of his many hang-ups regarding money and fame and his self-esteem issues, but that’s not what matters right now.
What matters is that Steve gave this to him, loved him enough to have it made for him.
And now Steve is gone.
Eddie grabs for his phone with shaking hands and checks the date.
“Fuck.”
Five days.
He’s five days too fucking late.
He’s dialing Jeff before he can even realize he’s doing it.
“Dude, I really don’t want to be talking to you right now.”
“Jeff,” Eddie barely gets out, his voice choking on a sob. “Steve is gone.”
Jeff’s silent for a moment.
“I’m on my way.”
#steddie#steddie week#steddie angst#steddie fanfic#rock star eddie munson#angst#stranger things#hurt/comfort#Steve x Eddie#lmk if you'd like a follow-up to this or not#hits different Taylor swift#Steve harrington#Eddie munson#stobin#stobin friendship#rock star au#fame au#corroded coffin
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Hi!! So I'm really happy because I just went on my first actual date!! But I wanted to request the 141+Köing going on a first date with reader. Not even something fancy like a 5 start restaurant. Like we literally just went to a waffle house lol. But just reader and their man going on a silly little spontaneous late night date. Just reader not caring about where they go just wanting to be with them. That's all!! 🖤🖤
Ahh, ilysm and thanks as always for your requests🩵🩷🩵
141 + Konig First Date With Reader
Warnings: FLUFF, slight angst, swearing
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Simon Ghost Riley-
Simon was terrified for your first date. He couldn't believe that he'd had the nerve to finally ask you out, but the fact that you'd actually said yes? He couldn't wrap his mind around it.
He'd smooth over the nice pullover he bought at least a half dozen times and fiddled with his hair at least twice that amount before he finally built up the courage to knock on your front door
His heart nearly stopped in his chest as his eyes landed on you, all dolled up for your first date with him
He took you to a nearby farmers market that had multiple vendors for fresh foods. He'd remembered you'd told him once how much you adored little markets, and he thought this would be a perfect first date
He refused to let you pay for anything, and insisted on carrying all the bags of goodies you'd acquired throughout the night
You'd both be lying if you said it wasn't a little awkward at first. Simon wasn't one for small talk, and he found it hard to strike up a conversation
Once you got him on the topic of his love of dogs, though, Simon began to slowly open up to you, and conversations began to flow naturally with you
You stayed at the farmers market until well after it closed, as the conversations between the two of you deepened
Simon, who didn't want the night to end, suggested sitting in the bed of his truck to stargaze, and that's how the two of you ended your night
Simon also begged you to never tell anyone that he blushed like a mad man when you planted a soft kiss to his lips that night - he had a reputation to maintain afterall
For real, though, that man was PUTTY in your hands the second you opened your door that night
König-
König still struggles with terrible social anxiety, and it was a miracle in and of itself that he even asked you on a date in the first place
He was over the moon that you'd agreed, but now came the second hardest part for him....where would he take you?
This was a question that kept him up at night for days. It had to be somewhere that didn't look like he was trying too hard, but not somewhere where it looked like he didn't care
He'd finally settled on taking you to a cafe, one that had a built-in library, since he knew you loved books
He watched in admiration as you squealed in delight upon walking in, your eyes immediately landing on the vast array of books that lined the walls. He knew in that moment he made the right choice
König adorably insisted on buying you a coffee and treat, and made sure that you didn't leave the date without getting at least one of the books he knew you had your heart set on
He got to learn a lot more about you, and König was falling HARD. He started to pick up on your little quirks, some more of your likes and dislikes, and he ADORED the way your nose would scrunch up, and cheeks would burn red whenever he'd compliment you
Though his confidence grew throughout the date that night, he still stuttered, and rubbed the back of his neck nervously when he asked you for a second date
And not that he'd ever tell anyone, but he may or may not have called his grandma the second he got home- to tell her all about you
Johnny Soap MacTavish-
Johnny had thought he had it planned out down to the last second. He'd already gotten you to agree to go out with him, and he wanted to take you to a pub that he loved dearly near base for your first date.
Then...came Simon. He teased Johnny relentlessly, telling him that a pub was probably the last place you'd want to go to for a first date
He grew slightly panicked and tried to find anywhere that he thought would be more suitable for you, and for the life of him, he couldn't decide
Unable to settle on anything else, he took you to his favorite pub for the date, and poor boy was so nervous to see your reaction
The man swore he was going to marry you the second he saw the elated look on your face as you walked in
You both spent hours at the pub, your conversations ranging from what you wanted your futures to look like your hobbies, interests- and neither of you wanted it to end
The two of you ended up getting just a bit tipsy, and Johnny took it upon himself to take you to a nearby McDonald's telling you it'd help "absorb" some of the alcohol in your systems
He'd later tell you, though, years into dating, that it was because he just didn't want that night to end
John Price-
Price was very traditional for your first date. You two had just gotten back to base after a mission, and he finally felt like he was ready to make a move
He asked you if you'd accompany him to a newer restaurant that had just opened up near base, and it was a bit on the fancier side
John masked his nervousness well, but he was silently praying that the date went well. He was beyond smitten with you
The date went wonderfully, the two of you talking about anything and everything - Prices only rule being no talk of work, you two talked enough about that at work
He was a gentleman the entire night, pulling out your chair for you, opening the car door, and insisted that he walked you to your front door at the end of the night
He was elated to get to know you outside of the field, and he'd be lying if he didn't feel his heart melting at the thought of getting to take you out again
Wouldn't let you pay for the bill, but I wouldn't say no if you wanted to treat him to some dessert at your local ice cream shoppe
He may have broken his own of "no kissing on the first date" rule, not that he was complaining though
Kyle Gaz Garrick-
You and Kyle had been friends for years, always dancing around your obvious feelings for one another, when Kyle finally asked you out
Kyle spent hours in the kitchen the day of your first date, prepping small sandwiches and snacks for the picnic he planned for the two of you
When he came to pick you up, he had a bouquet of fresh cut flowers in his hand, and a contagious smile on his lips
He brought you to a nearby lake, and adorably set up the picnic he'd spent all day preparing
Insisted on serving you your dinner, and went as far as to unwrap the sandwiches for you, and unscrewed the lid of your drink
You swore you'd never laughed so hard in your life than you did on that date, and it was possibly one of the best days of both of your lives
Since you two had known each other for quite a while, conversation came easy for both of you
You both lost track of time, and ended up falling asleep together on the picnic blanket, and awoke the next morning tangled in each other's arms
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
#simon riley imagine#cod imagine#mw2 imagine#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#ghost mw2#konig x reader#konig imagine#konig mw2#captain price#price x reader#price imagine#konig call of duty#soap x reader#soap imagine#simon ghost riley#ghost imagine#gaz imagine#gaz smut#kyle gaz garrick#gaz x reader
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Cruel Summer
Lia Wälti x Reader
Word Count: 3.7k
A/N: Based on Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift
[WOSO Masterlist]
There’s a loud rev outside your apartment.
Despite it being the dead of the night, there’s an idiot lighting up the night, echoes of their engine blasting through the air.
If it was any other night, you would ignore it. If you hadn’t just finished one of the most important games of your life and flown hours back to your cozy little home in England, you would have ignored it. But you’re tired. The type of tired that seeps so deep into your bones that nothing but peace and quiet (and lots of sleep) could fix.
The engine’s been blasting for nearly five minutes now, seemingly no resolution in sight. With no other choice, you roll out of bed, whipping open your curtains and throwing up the window, ready to give the driver a piece of your mind.
What you see makes you roll your eyes instead, a tired smile making its way across your face.
“Lia, it’s twelve-thirty. What are you doing out here?”
Your best friend grins right back. “Jail break. Come on!”
You raise an eyebrow when Lia gestures for you to come downstairs and hop into her passenger seat. “It’s twelve-thirty,” you repeat. “Can’t you come jail break me at a more acceptable time? Like, let’s say, eleven tomorrow morning?”
“Boo,” she groans. “We haven’t seen each other in so long. You’re really going to make me wait another eleven hours to get my (Y/N) fix?”
Lip twitching in amusement, you shake your head.
Even though she’s parked on the street, still some distance away, you can see her pout crystal clear.
She doesn’t even have to say another word before you’re ducking back into your room.
It’s not like you can ever say no to Lia.
It only takes you five minutes to make yourself look presentable before you’re slipping out the front door and into Lia’s car.
Lia looks more than a little pleased at her success and it takes all your self-control to not smack (or kiss) the smirk off her face.
“Where to?”
She gives you a look.
The night ends like how it always does.
You pressed between Lia and a mattress, lips slotted together all hot and needy, every touch exchanged feeling more and more like heaven.
---
You’re used to it by now.
The late night phone calls followed by mindblowing, worldchanging--
Let’s just say Lia’s good. Like really good.
But what you’re also used to is mornings waking up to a sleepy smile shot your way. Face pressed to your neck, arms around your waist as Lia doesn’t want you to leave. Hands in yours as you stroll through Sunday morning farmer markets. Quiet afternoons curled up together on the couch, Lia reading her book of the week and you watching your tv show.
So yeah, the sex is good. But so is the domesticity you’ve created.
Lia made it clear from the beginning.
“I’m hot, you’re hot, let’s bang,” she had said with a smirk. Though a joke, you both knew she was being serious.
One night led to two, two into three, and soon she was calling you almost every night.
This was just sex. After her relationship with Caitlin ended all Lia wanted was some physical release, nothing more, nothing less.
“No feelings,” Lia tried to act stern, though with her hand down your pants and you being slightly distracted by her mesmerizing eyes, neither of you really paid those words much attention.
But you agreed.
You agreed to ‘meaningless, best lay of your life’ sex even though you’ve been in love with Lia for as long as you’ve known her. And with each night you spend together you find yourself falling more and more for her.
“Do you ever…” you trail off, eyes fixated to the ceiling above you.
Lia’s laying on her side, fingers lightly tracing your ribs as she tangles your legs together under the blankets. Nights like these come more often than not. You don’t remember the last time you spent the night apart. Having sex always seemed like an excuse for Lia to ask you to stay the night and you definitely weren’t going to complain.
Her eyes drift from where they’ve been ghosting over your skin, no shame present in her eyes for how much she was ogling you.
“Do I ever what?”
You swallow, trying to act nonchalant. “Ever think about what it would be like. If we… If we gave this a go.”
A furrow appears between Lia’s eyebrows, the Swiss frowning as she tries to understand what you’re saying. “‘Gave us a go’ as in… date?”
You shrug. “Would it really be that bad of an idea?”
It’s silent for a moment as Lia takes in your words. You can practically see the gears turning in her head, the brunette worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she tries to work through her thoughts.
When Lia sits up a bit, shuffling so she is half hovering over you, the blanket pulled over her shoulder slips down, pooling down by her waist.
It takes everything in your power to keep your eyes glued firmly above her collarbone, trying not to drool over all her exposed skin.
It’s a bit embarrassing, the effect Lia has on you. You still turn into a blushing mess whenever she pulls you into bed with her. Your mouth still goes dry whenever she gives you a grin, whenever her perfect lips and perfect voice says your name.
“(Y/N), I care about you. And I know you care about me.”
You nod, but Lia has a look on her face. She’s not done with whatever’s on her mind.
.
Every nerve in your body is screaming for there not to be a “but”.
.
“And this,” the way her eyes trail down your body makes it no mystery what exactly Lia’s referring to, and you flush red at her attention, “this is definitely worth every second of every day.”
.
You want to come home to this every day. You want to tell Lia how much you love her every day. There is so much you want.
.
Lia leans forward and you’re not able to stop the way your eyes flutter shut, lips burning where hers touches yours. Kissing Lia will always be one of your favorite things. There’s nothing like it. She lets out a quiet, happy sigh when you break apart, leaving a hand splayed over your bare stomach when she lays back.
“This is heaven. Why break something that’s not broken?”
.
But what you want isn’t what she wants.
.
And that’s what makes this so much worse.
.
Lia’s eyes are on the ceiling now, fingers still tracing absentminded shapes on your skin. “I don’t want to screw anything up between us, alright? And things are just, they’re so good right now. I don’t want to add anything that could mess this up.”
It feels like your throat’s closing up, your heart squeezing and crumbling to pieces right in front of you.
She’s looking your way now, and you realize Lia’s waiting for you to say something. For you to reassure her she’s making the right move.
.
You don’t want it to be the right move.
.
Of course you’d fall for the most basic of all tropes. Falling in love with your best friend. Falling into bed with the best friend you’re in love with.
Falling in love with someone who so obviously doesn’t love you back.
You give her a curt nod, hoping Lia can’t notice the way you’ve slightly stiffened. It feels like glass when you clear your throat, every nerve in your body screaming at you to run. To protect what little you still have of your own heart.
But you were never good at self-preservation.
“No, no, I, uh, I totally get it.” It’s hard to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach, the burning sensation prickling behind your eyes. But you do it. Because it’s Lia. Because she’s asking you not to change anything between the two of you.
“The summer’s supposed to be fun, not complicated.”
It hurts, the way you see her shoulders relax at your words.
Lia shoots you a soft smile, pressing a kiss to the fingers you have tangled together. It’s almost natural, the way she rolls back on top of you, elbows landing on either side of your head. Your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest when she leans down, breath hitting your lips as she stays just out of reach. There’s a sparkle in her eyes as Lia bites down on her bottom lip. You’re unable to stop yourself from looking right at her mouth, the brunette knowing exactly just what to do to drive you crazy.
“Speaking of fun… I think the two of us have a lot more fun to be had.”
And when Lia kisses you again, so full of passion but so lacking of feeling, you let her.
After all, you’ll take whatever she’s willing to give you.
Even if it tears you apart.
---
One week.
That’s how long Lia’s been out of town for. She had a little girl’s trip with Ana, a trip she tried convincing you to come along on. But you knew how much Lia’s been missing her best friend so you let her go off alone.
Lia had kissed you goodbye at the airport, in your car of course, promising to call you when she got back.
And now she’s back.
You’ve been bouncing off the walls at the chance to see her again.
It should honestly scare you, the hold Lia has over you. She’s so addicting, something you crave every second of the day. And the week spent apart has only exacerbated your need to be near her.
It’s a little past midnight when you pull up to her house.
Sneaking through the garden, you make it to Lia’s door in record time.
Your hands are shaky but you play it off as nerves, rolling your shoulders back before rapping your knuckles against the door. The grin on your face hasn’t fallen since you made the decision to surprise Lia. It’s usually Lia making these secret trips out without informing you she was heading over. But oh how the tables have turned.
It isn’t until the third time you knock without any response that your smile slips off your face.
Frowning, you look down at your phone. The [I’ve made it back!] text you received from Lia a couple hours ago seems to mock you as you turn your attention back towards the door.
Of course you could always call Lia to see where she’s at, but the small part of you that still knows shame knows how desperate that would look.
You could practically imagine the smirk on Lia’s face as she teases you for not being able to go a week without seeing her.
You drop your head against the door with a dejected thump.
Maybe Lia was busy tonight. It’s not like the two of you don’t have any other friends who have stayed in England during the off season.
So much for your attempt to surprise her.
Standing up with sigh, you turn around, fully intending to head back home. And then the door swings open.
Lia’s breathing hard, shirt hastily buttoned up, wild sort of look in her eyes as she leans against her door frame, squinting into the dark night to look at you.
You have to blink to make sure you’re not seeing things.
Lips swollen, hair mused, it doesn’t take a genius to know what Lia’s been up to.
“Sorry, I um, I was busy.” Lia clears her throat, hands coming up to run through her messy hair. “I didn’t forget any plans of ours, did I?”
Shaking your head, you shove your hands into your pockets. There’s an urge to flee on the spot, but you muster enough courage to just shuffle in place, clearing your throat as you try to stop your heart from crumbling to pieces. “No, it’s… I just wanted to see if you wanted to go out. But uh, I can see that you have some company so I’m just gonna go.”
Lia swallows nervously, hand darting out before you can turn away. You fight the urge to flinch at the contact, watching as Lia begins fidgeting uncomfortably instead.
“I didn’t know you were coming.” She sounds small, and something about it makes you curious, but the bigger part of you just wants to flee home and drown your embarrassment in a big tub of ice cream.
You were thinking of Lia the entire time she was gone but it’s clear she wasn’t thinking about you. And that’s on you. Not her.
You clear your throat again, trying to plaster on a fake smile on your face. “Lia, it’s fine, it’s cool. It’s not like we have any rules in place so you’re free to do whatever you want with whoever you want.”
She frowns, but you’re quick to drop your eyes to the ground when you notice her trying to gauge where your emotions are at.
You know you have no right to be jealous. That she’s not yours to be possessive over. As much as you want her to be yours, she didn’t want you the same way and that’s just something you’d have to deal with on your own.
“Okay,” Lia breathes out slowly, hand gently releasing her grip on your arm. “I’ll, um… I’ll see you tomorrow then?”
You give her a small nod. “Of course.”
.
When Lia pulls you into bed with her the next day after dinner, you pretend not to notice the bruises littering her skin.
Bruises that aren’t your doing.
Bruises that serve as a reminder that Lia holds all the power to kill you slowly.
And you wouldn’t stop her from doing it.
---
Laughter and shouts ring through the air, the atmosphere happy and light as the Arsenal girls meet for a couple drinks the second day into the new season. There’s no denying how much you missed the lot of them, the rambunctious bunch having a special place in your heart.
You and Lotte have been lost in conversation for a bit now. The two of you have gotten really close since she returned to her childhood club a couple years ago. So you talk about everything and nothing, just catching up from your time apart over the summer.
“Have you been to that new restaurant that opened down the street?”
You nod. “Yeah! Lia and I stopped by there a couple weeks ago. They have some pretty good seafood.”
Lotte’s eyes light up and she goes off into a tangent about her favorite seafood places. You sit back with a fond smile, loving the enthusiasm of the young girl.
You’re nodding along to something she says when you feel it. You nearly jump out of your seat at what feels like a foot kicking yours. Hard.
Looking up, you make eye contact with Lia. There’s a slight frown on her lips as she pretends to listen to something Steph is telling her.
You tilt your head in question but she just huffs, turning back to her conversation with Steph.
Shrugging, you don’t think too much about the interaction.
Until it’s nearly thirty minutes later and you excuse yourself to go to the bathroom.
You don’t realize anything’s amiss until you step out of the stall. You almost leap back in fright when you see Lia leaning against the sink, arms crossed.
“Er, hi?” Your greeting comes out more like a question, your surprise at seeing her evident in your tone of voice.
Lia doesn’t say anything, simply watching as you wash your hands. Your eyes keep darting to hers, confused why she followed you in here.
You would be lying if you said you weren’t disappointed that your hookups have seemingly come to a stop now that pre-season has begun, but it’s not like you were really expecting anything more. The two of you have been fairly busy getting back into the swing of things.
But Lia following you to the bathroom reminds you of the nights you spent together that often began like this. An innocent gesture turned shameless and passionate.
So safe to say you’re not really sure what to make of her bathroom visit.
Out of all of the possibilities, you’re definitely not expecting the hostile tone that comes out of her mouth the second you’re done wiping your hands and turning around.
“What was that?” It’s whispered, but you still feel taken aback by how harsh Lia spits out her words.
“What was what?”
You wrack your mind, trying to think of anything you did wrong. The two of you haven’t interacted much tonight. Apart from the greetings when you arrived tonight and saw her already there, the two of you kept mostly to different groups. You’ve spent most of the night laughing with Beth and Lotte while she’s been chatting with Steph and Leah.
“Why did you tell Lotte that we went to the sushi bar together?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion at the reminder of your conversation that felt like so long ago. “Uh, because we did? I’m sorry, why do you sound so mad?”
“I’m not mad! I just don’t understand why you had to tell Lotte we went there together.”
“I… what?” you blink, the stiffness of Lia’s body only confusing you even more. “Are you upset that I told Lotte we had dinner together?”
Her mouth shuts with a click, nostrils flaring as you seem to be missing something that Lia’s so clearly fuming about.
“You didn’t want me telling any of our friends, because?” You wait, the silence dragging on, but Lia glares pointedly at a spot right past your ear, refusing to say a word.
You sigh. “Lia, what’s going on?”
Her jaw clenches. “We said it was just going to be a summer thing.”
You nod, confused. “Yeah, and?”
“It’s no longer the summer.”
It’s not the summer anymore, that you know. You and the rest of the girls have been kicking balls around for a couple days already, laughing and joking around as if you guys haven’t been apart for a couple months. As much as you enjoyed your summer with Lia, there’s no denying that you’ve definitely missed the girls a bit, even if being back with the team meant no more late nights sneaking around--
And just like that, everything clicks.
You try to keep your face unchanged despite the realization knocking all of the breath out of your lungs.
“So this is a secret.”
Lia doesn’t say anything but you don’t need her to. Her silence says a thousand words.
And each one cuts to the bone.
“You want me to pretend nothing happened between us? Like the summer meant nothing.” Sadness and anger mixes in your veins. You knew this was coming but it still doesn’t dull the way it hurts.
“The summer was fun. But that’s all it was,” she mutters, eyes still hard.
“The summer was fun,” you repeat, shaking your head in disbelief. “It was fun? That’s really all you have to say?”
“What else is there to say?” It’s snapped back, almost defensive.
You’re left blinking at Lia, heart sinking with every single word spoken. “You can’t be this dense.”
Lia’s lips pinch into a thin line, but the Swiss doesn’t say anything else.
Somehow the silence hurts more than what you know is about to come. “You can’t seriously say you didn’t know how much it meant to me.”
“I don’t--”
“Lia, please. You couldn’t not know.” It’s pathetic, the way you literally beg Lia to acknowledge the truth the two of you have been dancing around.
“We said no rules,” Lia swallows, hand clenching and unclenching by her sides. Her eyes are darting around now, as if she’s looking for some sort of escape.
It’s the way she keeps denying it that cracks your heart even more. It’s the pointed ignorance that makes this hurt much more than the inevitable rejection you know is headed your way.
“I love you, Lia.”
Those words feel both freeing and crushing, finally saying it out loud. You’ve always dreamed about this moment. The moment you finally tell Lia how much you care for her. How much you want to shout your love for her from the rooftops.
Never would you have thought it would come out like this. In backroom bathrooms, makeup ruined with tear stained cheeks as you do your best not to fall apart.
You should have expected the dream to just stay a dream. After all, they never work out the same in the real world.
“I love you and you act as if that’s the worst thing you’ve ever heard.”
Shoulder slumped over, you drop your face into your hands. Though no longer making eye contact, you can still feel the weight of Lia’s gaze on you.
Neither of you say anything else, but no other words are needed. You’ve said your part. Lia’s said hers.
So much for happily ever afters.
It feels crushing, the way Lia doesn’t move to stop you when you brush past her to reach the door. Every step you take feels like a stab to the heart, but you know there’s no going back anymore. There’s no more ignoring what you both know is the truth.
Maybe Lia loves you like you love her. Maybe she wants you just like you do her. But if she doesn’t want to make this a thing, there’s nothing you can do about that.
Hand on the doorknob, you pause, making sure to keep your back to Lia. You breathe in shakingly, pretending like you can’t feel your heart crumbling to nothing in your chest. “You don’t want our friends knowing anything, fine. I won’t say a word about the summer.”
If Lia says anything after that you don’t catch it. You’re letting the door shut behind you, already making your way back to the rest of your teammates.
And when Lia returns to the table minutes later, you’re already faking smiles, pretending like your summer in heaven wasn’t the cruelest thing that’s ever happened to you.
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𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐃𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐇𝐎𝐌𝐄
pairing: stripper!jack daniels x f!reader
genre: stripper AU, explicit, minors dni
word count: 6.5k
series summary: frustrated by your everyday life, you seek solace at a male strip club. It's your first time and you're instantly mesmerized by the one that calls himself "Whiskey".
chapter summary: you bump into "whiskey" at the farmer's market and learn more about him.
warnings: awkward moments, fluff, mutual pining, sexual tension, bondage via jack's belt, piv, oral (female receiving), praise kink, fingering, dirty talking, brief mention of jack being widowed, angst & arguing at the end
a/n: sadly no stripping in this one folks but I promise we're gonna get some more (and our happy ending) in part three!
part two of i can feel your heartbeat
dividers by @firefly-graphics 💜
You don’t visit the farmer’s market as often as you used to but when you do, man, do you love it.
It’s almost therapeutic. You love the gentle morning sun warming your skin, you love the scent of fresh produce wafting through the air. You enjoy looking at the colorful display of flowers. While you walk, you look up into the sky, the clouds looking fluffier than ever. A soft wind blows and ruffles the leaves of the trees, the sound of it strong enough to make you believe you’re in another, more exciting world.
The crowd mimics the motion of waves in the sea. You follow the current, not having a particular stand in mind. The only thing on your list is buying some fresh fruit; some juicy peaches, and maybe some strawberries.
Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice a man stepping into your path until it's too late.
With an unexpected jolt, you collide into him, your momentum abruptly halting. Startled, you blink and take a step back, a mix of embarrassment and surprise washing over you.
It’s then that you notice an item slipping from his bag, plummeting toward the ground.
In that split second, your senses heighten, and you catch a whiff of familiar leather and a trace of a perfume that sparks a distant memory. But you can't dwell on it for long as your gaze fixates on what has fallen—a meticulously hand-carved wooden horse.
The delicate figurine lies there, its intricate details captivating your attention. The sunlight dances upon its smooth surface, casting intricate shadows that accentuate the craftsmanship. It is a thing of beauty, captivating in its simplicity and elegance.
You kneel down, carefully picking up the wooden horse. Its weight in your hand feels grounding. Your fingertips trace the curves and contours, marveling at the artistry that brings it to life.
Distracted by the wooden horse, you momentarily forget about the man with whom you collided. But as you rise to your feet, you finally take notice of him, standing there with a surprised expression on his face. Recognition flickers in his eyes, and a smile slowly curves his lips; meanwhile, you’re absolutely shocked. Your mouth falls open and your eyes go wide at the sight of a cowboy hat you’ve grown accustomed to seeing almost every night.
“Whiskey?” you say in a hushed, yet loud, whisper. “W-What are you—”
His smile falters at the sound of his stage name, it seems to you that he’s forgotten that you don’t actually know his birth-given name. He crowds your space, the scent of pine filling the air, unmistakable and comforting. When you part your lips the second time, it’s to apologize, but before you can, he claps a hand over your mouth and gently pushes you towards the back of one of the market stalls. Your heart races, his grip firm yet strangely gentle.
The rough surface of wood meets your back. You feel the subtle grooves and indentations beneath your palms and a shiver runs down your spine as his intense stare penetrates your defenses. He breathes heavily through his nostrils, lips a thin line.
“It’s Jack,” he grunts, almost begrudgingly. “My name’s Jack.”
“Jack,” you say, enjoying the way his name rolls off of your tongue. Then your brows furrow with realization. “Wait, is that why you call yourself Whiskey? Like, Jack, as in Jack Daniels?”
He gives you a pained expression, the corner of his lips lifting, “Guess my last name.”
“Nooooo,” you let out a hushed gasp. “Your last name is Daniels?”
“I told you my real name wasn’t any less embarrassin’.”
You tut with a grin, “You poor thing.”
He inches closer, leg almost between your thighs but not quite. Jack always makes his presence known. He is used to being center stage, garnering all the attention and whisking anyone away from their thoughts. His very being overwhelming and affective. You stiffen as awareness starts creeping in— the large hand cupping the column of your neck, his body imposing as it blankets yours, the thick wood behind your back. In the distance, you still hear the clamoring of people. Your breath catches in your throat, he’s only an inch away.
Your fingers twitch and you remember the wooden horse he’d dropped.
“Um, I think this is yours,” you blurt out, handing him the carving. He’s briefly startled but then pulls away, taking it from you. “It’s lovely by the way. Where’d you get it?”
“I. . . uh. . . I made it,” he mutters, tilting his head forward. Hiding from you.
“You made it?”
He nods and steps away from you.
“Is there anything you can’t do?” you tease, pushing yourself away from the market wall. You follow him into the crowd. “You’re truly a man of many talents. . . Jack.”
“Don’t make me regret tellin’ you my name.”
“I won’t,” you answer with a hint of mischief. You eye the bags he’s holding. “Are all of those wood carvings?”
“Yea,” he says. “I bring them for my mother-in-law, she sells them along with other stuff.”
“You—” your mouth dries and you swallow around the know forming rapidly in your throat. “Wait, you told me you were single.”
“Widowed.”
He says it in a way that doesn’t allow for any follow-up questions. His voice is curt, nonchalant. Tearing your gaze away from the crowd, you stare at him, your heart squeezing in your chest. You want to hold him, whether it's a hug or just a delicate brush of your fingers. You want him to know that you're here for him.
But you just can’t.
If you two hadn’t bumped into each other, he wouldn’t have ever told you. This was a truth that was spoken due to circumstance, not something he wanted to admit and that makes you feel incredibly guilty. “I’m sorry,” is the only thing you’re able to say.
You might be imagining it, but you think he starts walking closer to you. His hand brushes your waist and pulls you close—right then you realize you were about to crash into some poor unsuspecting woman with enough goods to feed an army.
He snorts, “You really out to be more careful, sweetheart.”
“Sorry,” you mumble, distracted by the hand cupping your side. The woman had already disappeared into the crowd but he’s still holding you close. Heat drips down your spine.
“What’s your favorite animal?”
The question takes you by surprise but you indulge him with an answer, “Foxes.”
“Hmm,” he looks down at his bag. “Darn, I don’t think I made a fox.”
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” a nervous chuckle bubbles from your lips. He makes a sound and the two of you continue walking through the crowd. When you reach almost the end of the stalls, he stops you.
“Wait here,” he says. “I’ll drop these off and we can look around together.”
“O-Oh you don’t have to—”
“If today is any indication you can’t function properly without me, sunshine,” he grins. “You’ll probably headbutt a fruit stand or somethin’.”
You stand there, your heart pounding in your chest as he leaves you. Your eyes trace his figure until he stops beside a middle-aged, elegant-looking blond woman at a nearby stand. They engage in conversation, their voices carrying faintly to your ears.
They seem comfortable in each other's presence, their conversation carrying a lightness that betrays a shared history. Her smile lights up her face, and for a moment, her eyes meet yours. You feel a jolt of nervousness, your instinct urging you to avert your gaze, fearing that you may be intruding upon a private moment.
You don’t want to pry, but you would be damned if you said you weren’t hungry for more information. . . .among other things.
Soon Jack returns, the bags he carried earlier now gone. His presence draws you back to the present, grounding you in the here and now. “You ready to go?” he asks.
“Sure.”
When your eyes find the woman’s once more, she waves at the both of you. Jack tilts his hat as he places his hand protectively over the small of your back, heat seeping through the fabric of your shirt and into your skin. You stumble for a moment before waving back.
You’re not sure how to react to any of this. Seeing Jack outside of the strip club feels forbidden, in a way. Like a certain spell has been broken. Before you knew his name it was easy to pretend your growing emotions were nothing other than you enoying the attention he was giving you. But now you’re in the real world. He has his hand on your back unprompted and is willing to walk around with you at the farmer’s market. In the club, a curtain of illusion looms most of the time. It’s another world. A separate little nook where you can disappear into and be pampered in.
That spell is broken now.
He’s a real person. Your emotions are real. Everything is.
And that terrifies you.
With the heel of his palm pressed firmly against the steering wheel, Jack parks in your driveway. Your eyes drop to his lap where his legs are spread, an enticing view by any means. His belt buckle shines under the street light coming through the windshield. The soft yellow softens the edges of his face, giving him an almost somber look.
He kills the engine, you wait for him to speak but he doesn’t say anything.
“Thank you for dropping me off,” you say, breaking the silence. You unwillingly grip the latch of the door. “So,” you add.
“So,” he clears his throat, and drags a thumb down the bridge of his nose. “I’ll see you around darlin’. Today was nice.”
“Yeah. It was.”
The two of you had ended up spending time together until the sun had set. You even had dinner together which was a pleasant surprise. It wasn’t awkward then, so you have no idea why you feel so unnerved right now. It’s as if your entire vocabulary had dropped from your head.
You swallow, thinking of your next words very carefully, “Would you. . . like to come in? I have a bottle of wine.”
Time seems to slow down, every sound around you amplified. The cacophony of crickets fills the night air, a gentle breeze rustles the leaves of nearby trees. You hold your breath as the car emits a soft creak. The muscle in his jaw twitches. He seems hesitant, his eyes glazed as if looking at the horizon. You shouldn’t have asked. Just because he was friendly doesn’t mean he wants to date, or have a relationship. And from what you’ve learned today, there is a very high chance that Jack wouldn’t be interested in any form of intimacy.
“Sure,” he finally says, his voice rough. “Lead the way, sugar.”
Despite the hot summer air, your skin is ice cold. He follows you inside, his body close yet painfully far at the same time. The skin at the base of your spine tingles. You have a feeling that he wants to wrap his arms around you but it remains only a thought. Briefly you imagine the phantom feel of his limbs coiling around you, the warmth you would feel.
You quickly unlock the door and invite him inside. You’re not sure what to do now that he’s in your apartment. Hands in his pockets, he gives his surroundings a quick once-over.
“Cozy,” he says.
“Thanks,” you mumble, not sure if that was a compliment or not. “So, wine?” without waiting for an answer you head to the kitchen. Jack follows. You're desperately racking your brain for conversation topics that won't be awkward, but your mind seems determined to make your life miserable by providing no ideas.
“Today was fun,” you say, reaching for the glasses. He makes a sound of approval and your gut simmers with something unpleasant. You grab the bottle of wine from the fridge and the cork from the drawer. With a frown, you struggle with pulling out the cork. “I hope. . .” you pull at it again. “you had fun. . .” you let out a loud grunt, too distracted to realize he’s rounding the small island. “. . . too—shit!”
Jack is right behind you when the cork finally comes loose and sends your arm flying back.
Your elbow slams loudly against something hard and pointy, the pain that blossoms from skin to bone immediate. Jack lets out a shout and when you turn you see him hunched over, holding his chin.
Oh god, you’re a moron.
“What were you doing behind me!?” you chide, your voice shrill.
“I should be the one fuckin’ yellin’,” he hisses, each word bouncing against the back of his teeth. He breathes heavily through his nose and slowly stands back up. He moves his jaw as if he’s testing if it’s broken. “I was gonna offer help. It didn’t look like you were gettin’ anywhere with the bottle.”
Your chest heaves, heart pounding maniacally beneath the cage, “I’m so so so sorry,” you say quickly. “I—I wasn’t paying attention. Do you need anything? Should I get the first aid kit?”
He’s still moving his jaw when his eyes meet yours. You hear the faint clicking of bone, the sound ominous to your ears. “Sorry,” you whisper again, feeling like a parrot.
Jack’s gaze grows softer the longer he stares at you. Momentarily his eyes flutter closed. He takes a deep breath and opens them back up again. The air around you is still, the only sound not drowned by the drum of your heart is the faint traffic coming from outside. With long strides, he’s at you in an instant, his body feeling larger than life itself. His fingers gingerly brush your cheek and you swear you feel electricity crackling across the skin.
“I should be the one apologizin’. It’s my fault for sneaking up on you like that,” he sighs, turning his hand, he drags his knuckles down your face. You’re reminded of the first time he danced for you, how he wrapped his hands around your neck. “I didn’t mean to shut down like that. Of course, I had fun today. I’m glad we ran into each other.”
In order to avoid appearing desperate and insecure, you sink your teeth into the tip of your tongue, consciously refraining from uttering the question: "Really?"
“That’s good,” you say instead, hating how unsure you sound. He definitely thinks that you don’t believe him. “For a while there I felt bad. I didn’t want to intrude.”
“Well, you didn’t.”
“Okay.”
His touch feels good on your skin. You don’t ever want him to leave, at least, not for tonight. It’s odd really, you’ve been much closer than this before but this feels more intimate, more nerve-wracking. His head tilts towards the bottle, the corner’s of his mouth curling up.
“Now pour us what’s left in the bottle.”
You’re grinning now, a sound between a chuckle and a snort dropping from your lips, “Okay.”
Jack picks up the glasses of wine as you lead him to the living room. You can definitely sense an energy shift between you two. You don’t need to force yourself to fill the silence anymore. Everything is more natural, just like it was before.
“I’m just glad you didn’t get my nose,” he says as he takes a seat on the couch. “It would’ve been bad for business.”
“Oh, I don’t know about that,” you roll your tongue. “People love a rugged handsome man with a bit of blood.”
As soon as you sit, his arm comes up to lay above the backrest. His fingers draw patterns across your skin; stars, hearts, circles. Your muscles tighten, nipples left tingling at his touch. You breathe out slowly. Jack shuffles closer and spreads his legs, his knee digging into the meat of your thigh. His thumb smooths over the stem of the wine glass. You have his full focus, gaze brimming with intrigue.
“Is that what you like?” Every word is said tantalizingly slow, you shudder. “A bit of blood.”
Not the blood, you want to say, but the thought of someone stepping in to be a shield for me.
The words don’t come however and you just stare, your cheeks warm as he continues to toy with the small hairs scattered across the back of your neck. You’re actually glad you managed not to answer. You’re not sure if he’d want to stay after hearing it. There’s just something so intoxicating about another person caring enough to want to protect you, no matter what happens. And your lizard brain just thinks it’s hot. You’re aware it’s not the strangest thing but still, you don’t think it’s the best course of action to admit this to your stripper.
Well, not your stripper. He doesn’t belong to anyone but you digress.
“Tell me whatcha thinkin’ pretty girl,” he spreads his fingers around your nape, gently squeezing the side. You practically purr at the pressure. “You should know by now that I’m good at keepin’ secrets.”
The reminder brings a rush of warmth between your legs. You squirm and bring the glass of wine to your lips, taking two large gulps. “I don’t know what I’m thinking,” you answer, swallowing at the same time. “Besides you already know what the people want, don’t pretend that you don’t.”
“I do,” he hums. “But right now I’m more interested in what you want, sugar.”
“You. . .” you furrow your brows. “What?”
Placing the wine glass on the coffee table, he leans closer. His lips are tinted from the wine. “What do you want, darlin’?” he pressed his palm flat on your thigh. “Because to me, it seems like you have an itch you just can’t seem to scratch.”
Holy freaking hell.
You’re a goner— what kind of steamy cowboy romance book did this man climb out of?
“What about you?”
Your question startles him and his fingers twitch around your thigh, “What do you mean ‘what about me’?”
“Well,” you shrug. “What do you want?”
You’re giving yourself mental pats on the back for keeping your voice leveled. The fabric of your underwear is damp with arousal, your clit throbbing and aching for his fingers. There’s a storm raging inside you. A storm that you’re glad he’s not able to witness. You keep your breathing even. Nice and slow. His hand starts sliding up your leg, stopping when he reaches the crease between your legs. He smiles.
“I want to fuck you, darlin'.”
You hold your breath, your pussy bottoming out at his deep southern drawl. He leans in, lips brushing your ear before gently nipping the hard shell. Electricity spikes up your spine, a strangled moan parting your lips.
“I want to fuck you slow,” he continues on, tongue wet and warm over your skin. “Then I want to fuck you hard. I want to look in your eyes as you come for me again, sunshine.” without warning Jack cups your sex, fingers digging into your clothed folds. Your head snaps up, every bone going rigid in your body. “Want to feel that pretty pussy chokin’ my cock.”
You’re shaking and your ears are left ringing. It’s just one touch. One touch and your entire body is locked up, aching, begging. Your jaw hurts from how hard you’re clenching your teeth. He blows a puff of air, goosebumps rising over your skin. He kisses your neck, such a gentle, fleeting feeling. All blood gathers under his lips, pounding. You swallow.
“Your turn,” he rasps, circling your clit with two fingers. “What do you want, gorgeous?”
“I—I—” you look down to where his hand is, the sight knocking the air from your lungs. He’s actually touching you, fingers deep between your legs. Sweat beads at your temple. “I want that too.”
“Hm?” he’s amused, you can tell. A tone you’d grown accustomed to that you both hate and adore. You refuse to look at him. “You like the sound of that, pretty girl? Me fucking this neglected pussy? Has a man ever made you come before, sunshine?”
You don’t want to answer but you forget that silence is an answer on its own. “What is this a questionnaire?” His eyes glimmer under the dimmed light, how can he look so delighted while taking you apart you’ll never know.
“I’m takin’ that as a no,” he tuts and sticks his bottom lip out. “Poor thing.”
You might not admit it, but that doesn’t make him any less right. You haven’t really been lucky when it came to previous sexual endeavors. None of them really made you that comfortable to just let go. There were some that came really close, and some felt good despite you not finishing—some were just downright bad at it— That’s why his dance had surprised you. He worked you up so thoroughly and that added with the thought that you’d never see him again bred the perfect ground for you to just relax.
You had no idea the end result would be him in your apartment, telling you how badly he wanted to fuck you. If this is a dream you never want to wake up from it.
His hands slide to your hip, holding you tight as he leans over. You gasp when you feel his lips, so soft, so tender. His tongue swipes over your bottom lip hungrily, not asking but demanding to be let inside. You part your lips with a feverish groan and he slips inside. You seize him by the collar, pulling him closer, wanting more of him. Your head spins as he tilts his head, shoving more of him inside you, your tongue eagerly backing down so he takes full control. He squeezes the breath out of you, swallowing your tender moans of his name.
Jack’s hand tenderly cups your cheek as he pulls away, a string of saliva still connecting you two together. You breathe heavily, your lips stinging in the best way. Your eyes flit over his face. His lips kiss swollen, chocolate eyes a shade darker. With a thumb, he tugs down your bottom lip and swallows.
“Take me to your bedroom.”
“I’ve never seen you take off your clothes so fast before.”
He snorts, “Shut up. I ain’t on the clock. You think that’s how I undress all the time? I would get nothin’ else done.”
Jack unbuckles his belt while you take in the sight of his bare torso. A shudder crawls up your spine at the sound of the metal buckle coming loose. He has a smooth chest, which you already knew but still, to have it all to yourself makes your entire mouth water.
Your eyes drop when he rips the belt away with one smooth motion. Anticipation stirs in your chest, causing your eyebrows to raise. Before you can avert your eyes, he catches your gaze, his trademark grin tugging at his mouth. Belt still in hand, he comes closer. With a gentle touch, Jack's hands grasp the fabric of your shirt. Carefully, he pulls upward, the fabric gradually lifts, revealing the tender skin beneath. You instinctively raise your arms for him and he slids it completely off, leaving you in nothing else but your bra.
He dips down, kissing the soft swell of your breasts, one by one, “Can’t do anythin’ without me,” he says with no conviction. His lips move over your skin. “My helpless sweetheart.”
You barely hear the second part of his sentence, he had uttered the words softly, just above a whisper. The words resonate in you, short-circuiting your brain and shutting out unrelated thoughts. You like this. You like him taking care of you, guiding you. His tone holds no pity, only care.
His thumb follows the lace of your bra, tongue tasting the salt of your skin. You whine as your knees weeken, his mouth has no right feeling this good. He cups them from underneath and slowly pushes the satin fabric up, calloused palm grazing your peaked nipples. He swirls his tongue around the areola then closes his lips around the hardened flesh. Your back arches, filling his mouth with more of you. He groans as he opens his mouth wider, teeth softly caressing the skin.
“Jaack,” you breathe out as you shift from one leg to the other. Your panties stick uncomfortably to your core. You palm him through his jeans, feeling the weight of him. He sucks your nipple harder, pinching the other one. You want to taste him. “Let me,” you say, already going down.
Much to your surprise, he stills your movements. “No,” he groans. “Let me take care of you first.”
He pushes your arms behind you, locking your wrists together with one hand. Your breath stills when you feel the leather of his belt circling your wrists. “Can I?” he asks, breath fanning your neck.
Your stomach flips and not trusting yourself to remain upright, you brace yourself by dropping your forehead to his shoulder. Your entire body is winded. You place a small, chaste kiss over his clavicle, his chest raises with a deep inhale.
“Just promise this isn’t where you tie me up and steal my watch,” you joke, immediately regretting it when you look up to see his brows drawn together, a small snarl tracing his lips. “Sorry, that was in bad taste.”
“We don’t have to,” he says, his grip around your hands loosening. “And if we do we can stop whenever. I just. . .” he swallows thickly. Anticipation burrows into your skin. “I like the idea of you trustin’ me to make you feel good.”
“I do trust you,” you answer quickly. “And I want to. I just wasn’t aware how much I wanted it which is why I made that dumb joke.”
“I’m sure you can make it up to me,” he answers with a crooked grin. Suddenly, he tightens the belt around you and you let out a quick gasp, his lips are on your instantly, teeth nipping at your chin. “Does this feel okay?” he asks, slightly tugging on the leather.
It’s funny how such a simple thing can alter one’s mindset. You’re almost subdued, in a way, completely at his mercy. However, you don’t feel helpless either. His heavy palms move up and down your arms, you quiver as you drip for him, wetness gathering between your folds. You’re breathing heavily, heart bellowing in your chest, loud and strong. His skin against yours feels warmer somehow.
“Yeah,” you answer. “Feels more than okay.”
You hear the smile in his voice, “Well a’right then,” he helps you towards the bed, you drop head first into the pillows, hands securely at your back. His lips brush the tender skin between your shoulder blades. “Gonna taste this sweet pussy now, sunshine. I’ve been eager for dessert.”
“God, the mouth on you,” you swallow, feeling his breath ghosting your wet core. “You’re gonna be the death of me.”
“Not yet,” he sighs, kissing right where the curve of your ass begins. “First I gotta make you come.”
You’re in the midst of thinking of a quip to answer with when you feel it. The wet, warmth of his tongue gliding up between your folds. Your body coils and unwinds almost simultaneously. He moves his jaw, pushing his tongue deeper. He traces your entrance with a pointed tip, licking himself deeper. The sound he makes are sinful—loud in the silence of the room.
Your wrists strain against the restraint, you push back wanting more of him. He groans into you, the reverberations seeping into your cunt. You’re withering helplessly, heat coiling tight in your stomach as your insides flutter and clench around nothing. Jack parts you with two fingers, his teeth like daggers against the sensitive flesh. With a loud cry, you feel your slick dripping out of you, making a mess of his face.
“That’s my girl,” he rasps, giving you another fat stroke of his tongue. His hand comes up to your asscheek, kneading the flesh playfully. You relax at the touch and drool over the pillows. It’s too much, yet not nearly enough. He circles his tongue around your throbbing clit and sucks it between his lips, you jolt at the pleasure and wiggle helplessly.
He gives you a gentle, yet firm, smack on the ass. A whimper echoes in your throat, your eyes shutting closed as your nails bite into your sweaty palms. “Settle,” he warns, voice deep and rich like molasses. “Use your words when you want something darlin’. Or else you ain’t getting it.”
You make a sound between a choke and a moan, despite your non-answer answer, he seems to understand.
“You want my fingers, sweetheart?”
You nod, another moan slipping from your lips.
He presses his lips over the heated skin and you keen at the soft touch of his mouth. “Can’t wait to be filled, hm?” he grins “You think you’re wet enough to take two, darlin’?”
The tips of his fingers press against your entrance, his touch nothing but a tease. “Yeah,” you answer, voice hoarse. He kisses your core before pushing two fingers in, they slide in easily, the sound of how et you are making you shudder.
“That’s my good girl,” he praises. “Fuckin’ soaked for her cowboy.”
He moves his fingers in and out of your slickened depths, coating them. His tongue returns to your cunt, your head left spinning as his talented tongue flicks, licks, and swirls. He moves his fingers in time with his tongue, plunging deeper into your sopping core.
Jack’s free hand roams your body, cupping your breasts as the intensity of his movements increases. His thumb brushes your hard nipple as he pulls you closer to his mouth, greedy to take more of you. Sparks of pleasure zig-zag through your body and you gasp as pleasure heaves through you.
Your hips buck as he moves his fingers faster, slipping them in then out with a maddening rhythm. His tongue slides faster and harder against your clit and you arch your back. You feel yourself clenching around his fingers, pleasure building and building until you’re a trembling mass panting for release.
Jack’s fingers fill you up to the brim, your inner walls quivering and contracting around them, eager for more. He pinches your nipples, sending shivers up your spine. You gasp and cry out as you build up towards your peak, trembling against him.
Finally, with one final thrust of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, you let out a loud moan as your orgasm rocks your entire body. Your walls weakly gripping his fingers as the pleasure spreads through your body, leaving you a boneless, exhausted mess.
He pulls his fingers from you and kisses your neck tenderly. “Oh darlin’,” his deep voice whispers into your ear before trailing kisses down your jaw. “Look at you, fuckin’ gorgeous.”
His cock lays heavy above your ass, smearing precum across your skin. You whimper, rolling your hips back, showing him what you need. His breath hitches. He meets your movements, slowly, grinding onto you.
“You want my cock?”
“Y-Yes, please,” your eyes roll as he teases you with the fat tip of his lenght. But before he fills you, a longing stirs in your chest. “Wait,” you gasp and he still in an instant, without looking at him you know his eyes are painted with worry. “I want to see you.”
“See me?” he repeats slowly, as if the words are foreign to his tongue.
“Please,” you add. “I want to touch you too.”
Swiftly, he unties you and throws the belt to the floor. Your arms drop loosely to your sides, a pleasant ache stirring in your muscles. Jack turns you side ways, your thighs offering him a velvet entrance to your tight heat. He caresses your back, his touch soothing. When your gaze meet his, there’s a slightly hesitation in them. Almost like he’s afraid of something.
“Is this alright?” he asks and you nod, reaching out to him. He sighs as your arms weakly wrap themselves around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss.
While your tongues intertwine, he enters you. Just like he promised, he does it slowly, every ridge felt by you. You tear away from him with a gasp, you’re overwhelmed by the size of him, stretching your sensitive cunt perfectly. When he’s buried himself in your completey, he pulls out in an equally slow manner. Your jaw drops wide, your walls trembling at the slow guide. The inside of your thighs shake. With only the tip inside, he pushes forward, slowly. Your nails bite into his back, tension coiling in your stomach as he presses his lips against yours once more.
“So warm,” he groans, eyes staring deep into yours. “Fuckin’ pussy was made for me.”
“Yes,” you cry out, holding him closer. “Made for you, Jack. Made for your cock.”
His hips stutter and your eyes go wide, a gutteral moan tainting your lips. “Please,” you beg. “Please, please, please—”
“Please. . . what, darlin’?” his lips brush your teary eyelids.
“Fuck me,” you whisper. “I-It’s too much, please just fuck me. Stop teasing.”
“Alright, sugar. I won’t.”
There’s a small window of clarity where the softness of his voice catches you off guard, but that feeling is quickly replaced by the overwhelming strike of pleasure hitting your spine. His demeanour completely changes. Slow and sensual grind of his hips becoming fast and merciless, he snaps into you, length gliding against a spot you can barely reach with your fingers. He breathes into your neck. Your mind is in a complete haze, the four walls around you dssapearing from existence.
You yelp when he flips you over to your back, spreading your trembling legs wide, his thumb falls on your clit and he begins to draw fast, precise circles around the bundle of nerves. You scream his name, pulsing around him as he fucks you deeper, harder until you’re coming undone around him once again.
You squeeze him tight before gushing around him, your back arching almost painfully with his continued thrusts. Pleasure rolls over your body in the form of tidal waves, and just as you’re coming down from your high, he pulls out, spilling over your stomach.
You look at him blearily, eyes barely able to focus on the heavy way his chest moves. He breathes heavily, the muscles that surround his stomach tense. Before you can utter a word, Jack dips down, claiming your lips in a heady kiss that you can only describe as a finality.
Jack parts away and hops off of the bed.
Your eyes widen, confusion swirling in them. Why is he getting dressed? You’re still within a heavy haze of pleasure, your surroundings feeling disoriented and dreamlike. With a weak hand, you reach towards him, hoping the action will convey to him not to go.
Jack already has one leg shoved into his pants when he sees you. Helpless. Needy. Your heart suddenly feels too big for your chest, tears build in your eyes. He hasn’t said anything yet, but you know. You just do.
He’s quick to clamber over to you, dropping to his knees and taking your hand into his own before dragging damp lips over your knuckles. Your chest heaves. You don’t want him to go.
“I’m sorry,” he says, voice choked. “I can’t stay.”
“Why?”
He ignores your question, “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stop by the club either, darlin’.”
“Don’t call me that,” you snap. He stiffens at your tongue, shoulders raising. He still has your hand enclosed in his. Your eyes sting. “I thought. . . I thought you liked me. . .”
You hate the way your voice cracks. You hate seeing the remorse in his eyes. You hate how tortured he looks, as if you’re the one hurting him.
“This ain’t gonna work out. Whatever it is.”
“Then why even come here? Why even. . .” you viciously pull your hand back, startling him. He stands as you straighten, leaning against the bed rest. You reek of sweat and sex. Marks of him, all of it, on you, on the bed, on the pillows. You cross your arms over your chest, refusing to pull up a blanket over your naked body. Refusing to be ashamed.
It doesn’t matter. Embarrassment sears your skin.
He doesn’t answer and you realize. Your heart lurches, your stomach dropping and churning uncomfortably. You can’t breathe—fuck, you can’t breathe.
“This was a goodbye,” you say coldly, the next words you whisper, broken. “That’s why you were distracted in the kitchen. You knew this was going to be a one-time thing.”
Anger flashes in his eyes, surprising you, “I thought somewhere along the way you would’ve figured that out too,” he snarls. “Wans’t it obvious from the start this couldn’t go anywhere?”
“It wasn’t obvious to me!” your hands drop from your chest and you’re crawling off the bed to meet him halfway. Just as you’re stepping down, your knees gave way beneath you, still weak. Jack takes a step forward and catches you, one arm securely wrapped around your torso. You push him away. “Fuck you—stop being nice to me!”
“Fuck me?” he repeats, bewildered. “Fuck you! I was just tryin’ to help.”
“Oh please, you were just helping yourself,” you hiss between gritted teeth. “Spare me any favors!”
Silence falls, the air still crackling with tension. You breathe heavily. Both your gazes remain locked on one another, both of you refusing to step down. You feel like a wounded animal, trying to bite back after being kicked.
“Just because someone does the bare minimum,” he says slowly, pulling up his pants. “Don’t mean their kind. I’m not the type of person you think I am, I’m just savin’ you the trouble of figuring it out yourself.”
He shakes his head, tormented.
“I’m sorry whoever it was who hurt you. I’m sorry they made you believe that every person is a shithead that’ll treat you like crap—but that just ain’t true. They are better people out there,” he sighs and pulls his shirt over his head. “I hate the way you look at me.”
“I look at you the same way I look at everyone else.”
“No, you don’t,” he smiles and all oxygen leaves your lungs. It’s a broken smile, the corners of his lips twitch. “You look at me like I’m more than I am. I can’t handle it. Not again.”
Not again.
Not again.
Not again.
Not again.
What does that mean? What happened? What’s again?
The face of the elderly blond woman you barely saw flashes before your eyes. His mother-in-law. You shrink under his gaze, guilt, and regret coursing through your veins. You didn’t ask him how she died. He didn’t let you as and you figured he’d tell you when the time was right.
Now it looks like such a time won’t ever come.
“I’m sorry,” he says for how many times you lost count. His voice cracks. “This is the best for you, I promise, sunshine.”
He leaves and you break.
The way he said sunshine. . . it echoes in the loud emptiness of your bedroom.
#jack daniels x reader#jack daniels x female!reader#jack daniels x f!reader#jack daniels x you#agent whiskey x f!reader#agent whiskey x you#agent whiskey x reader#agent whiskey x fem!reader#jack daniels x fem!reader#pedro pascal character fanfiction#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal characters#kingsman the golden circle#stripper!jack
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