#turns out. making lists is a good distraction
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Greased Lightning {Frankie Morales x F!Reader x Santiago Garcia}
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 13.1k
Warnings: Financial difficulties, technical prostitution, sex for services, propositioning, threesomes, fingering, oral sex (male and female receiving), dirty talk, degradation, anal fingering, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, double penetration, cum play, explicit photos
Comments: Broken down and in need of a mechanic, you call Triple Frontier Repair. Finding out that the repairs are more expensive than you can afford, the men have an idea on how you can compensate them.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
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|| MasterList || Frankie Morales MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
“Shit.” You hiss when you hear the engine of your piece of shit car start knocking and the dashboard lights up like a Christmas tree. “No, no, don’t do this, please don’t do this.” You whine when the acceleration of the car suddenly depletes and you are obviously going to be moving off the road to the shoulder. Bucking slightly as you try to coax it a little farther so you can safely get off and you feel like crying. You’re in a bind financially and you can’t afford pricey car repairs. If you don’t have a car, you can’t go to work and if you can’t go to work, you won’t have a job. You slap the steering wheel and sigh, knowing that you will need to get the car towed. After cursing your bad luck, you open your phone and google the closest mechanics shop that has a towing service. Hopefully they will be able to fix it for cheap.
“Frontier Repair Shop.” Santi answers the phone, about to leave early but your voice sounds distressed.
“I need a tow and my car - it just stopped and I don’t know what happened.” You try not to cry down the phone and Santi sighs, knowing his mama would kick his ass if she knew he’d left a woman on the side of the road. He asks you for the mile marker you’re near and knows where you are.
“Fish, I’ll be back in a bit.” He promises to his partner, heading out to the tow truck to go and get your vehicle.
When the truck arrives, you almost cry with relief but compose yourself, knowing that this won’t be an easy or cheap fix. When the mechanic gets out of the truck, your mouth falls slightly. “You need a tow?” He asks and you nod, dumbstruck by the handsome man and you almost forget about the issue at hand.
His brows furrow when he slips behind the wheel and sees the array of lights when he turns the key. “It’s good that you turned it off.” He compliments and jams the brake to shift the car into neutral. He’s already put the chains on the frame and just needs to hoist it up onto the flatbed.
“I just….was driving along and it went haywire.” You worry, biting your lip. “It’s gonna be expensive, isn’t it?” You can’t afford this, you are already destined to spend the rest of your rare day off in a mechanic’s shop.
“Won’t know until we get it back to the shop.” Santi tells you, noting how pretty you are, even though you’re obviously distressed. “Don’t worry though, me and Fish are the best mechanics around. We’ll get you back on the road.” He promises before shutting the door. “You need a ride to the shop with me, or do you have someone coming?’
“I need a ride. I don’t have anyone coming to pick me up and I need to get this fixed today. I have to work tomorrow and I don’t have any other way to get there.” You tell him and he nods, opening the passenger door for you to get in. It’s a little messy, coffee cups and wrappers litter the floor but you don’t care, too distracted by your bad luck.
“You from around here?” Santi asks as he starts the truck and makes his way back to the shop.
“No. Moved here years ago for college and didn’t go home.” You sigh.
Santi nods and concentrates on the road. “I get that.” He tells you. “Fish and I opened this shop when we got out of the Army. Just far enough away from the base we didn’t have to deal with that bullshit, but close enough we could go raise hell if we wanted.” He throws you a grin, thinking about the nights they would go bar hopping and get into some good, old fashioned trouble. Plus it was always fun to pick up the women there. “College, huh? What did you major in? I’ve been thinking about taking a few classes, using my G.I. bill.”
“It’s nothing exciting. I work in HR. Majored in Psych but didn’t get to put that degree to the test. But my student loans have been killing me since my rent was increased and I- sorry, you don’t wanna hear about my drama. How long were you in the army?” You ask, curious and trying to not notice the way his forearm muscles clench as he drives the truck.
Santiago snorts, glancing over at you and then back at the road. “Twenty years.” He admits, grinning ruefully. “Joined up when I was eighteen. Got out last year.” He shrugs. “Not too bad, but the retirement pay doesn’t go as far as it used to. And Fish and I were going stir crazy. Running ops wasn’t feasible, so we decided to start turning wrenches.”
“Fish?” You ask and he nods, “my partner. His name is Frankie but we had nicknames in our team in the army. His was Catfish and mine was Pope- is Pope.” He says and you frown, “where did Pope come from?” You ask and Santi smirks a little as he adjusts his grip on the steering wheel. “Back in the day, the fellas would say that women knelt before me like Catholics kneel before the Pope.”
You fluster at the thought, unable to deny his claim. Women would still kneel before him now. “I appreciate you coming out to help me so fast.” You say as he turns into the lot for the shop.
“Never leave a pretty lady on the side of the road.” Pope hums, watching as he turns the big wrecker around and he throws it park before looking over at you. “If you go into the waiting area, we have mediocre coffee and bottled water.” He shrugs and winks. “Down the hall to the right is a little break room. Fish has some Cokes stashed in the fridge for people we like.” He winks at you and juts his chin towards the building. “Go relax, we’ll take care of you.”
You nod, grateful to him for being so kind, and you get out of the truck, adjusting your skirt as you make your way into the shop, walking past the open garage doors. Frankie is just wheeling out from under a Kia Soul when his eyes find your legs and trail up your form as you walk past. The bell rings as you open the door to the waiting area and Frankie whistles as Santi strides over. “Jesus, Pope. Where’d you find her?” He asks, smirking at his friend.
Pope grins and shrugs. “What can I say, women just flock to me.” He jokes, before pointing to the car that James is rolling off the flatbed. “She broke down on the side of the road. Needs it ASAP, but I can already tell it’s gonna be expensive.” He snorts. “I might have promised her that she would be driving home tonight.”
Frankie rolls his eyes and sighs, aware that his friend often makes outrageous promises to pretty women, mostly at the expense of Frankie’s time. “Fuck, Pope.” He grumbles. “Kia’s done, go write it up and I’ll get started on the car.”
Pope grins victoriously at his friend giving in to his whims when it comes to gorgeous women and he makes his way inside, calling out the owner of the Kia to give him the invoice and take his payment while Frankie backs the car out of the bay. “Thanks man. Always appreciate you guys fixing her up.” The guy says to Pope and shakes his hand. You watch as he exits the waiting room and figure he must be an army friend. You are anxious to find out how much this is gonna cost. You might have to ask him to fix it up enough to drive around without clunking out but you know you’d be back in the shop at a moment in the near future.
Under the hood of the car, Frankie is hissing a curse as he shoves his busted knuckle into his mouth. Not really minding the grease as he sucks at the broken skin. He was used to having greasy hands from the work he did, but he fucking hated whoever designed the engine compartment on this car. “Goddamn piece of shit.” He scowls when he pulls his hand away from his mouth and looks back down at the fuel injector. It’s shot to shit and he’s pretty sure that your head gasket is leaking. It won't be cheap, just like Pope predicted, but it can be fixed today. He sighs, wondering how you are going to react to the price tag that’s gonna be slapped on this repair.
You sip the mediocre coffee, staring at the tv that has Judge Judy reruns on and you fidget, wondering what the cost of your car repair is going to run you. You’re there a while, other customers leaving. The young college kid who is helping out has gone home and you sigh, looking down at your now cold coffee.
Coming into the office, Frankie wipes his hands on a rag and looks over at you before shuffling towards the break room. “Car’s fixed.” He tells you. “Let me wash the grease off my hands and I’ll get you ready to go. Pope’s just closing her up now.”
You look up and nod, standing up from the plastic chair that’s stuck to the back of your thighs and you toss the coffee cup, wondering if the criteria to work here is to be a ridiculously hot guy. You bite your lip and lean against the counter when he comes back with clean hands. “You, uh, you didn’t even give me a quote.” You frown and Frankie sighs, “honestly, the car is on its last legs. I’m stretching its life as much as possible but you gotta look at getting a new car, sweetheart.” He explains, “I did what I could.”
You sigh, nodding and knowing he’s right. “What’s the damage?” You ask, bracing yourself.
Frankie winces apologetically. “I’m only charging you for parts.” He promises. There had been more wrong with it than he had first realized and Pope had told him to fix it enough to make it safe. “$1600” he tells you, hating the way your eyes seem to bug out of your head. “I can show you the printout. I didn’t charge you for labor. Pope told me about your situation.”
“I- shit. I- I can’t - I don’t have that.” Your eyes start to water, “I didn’t know and you didn’t tell me so I - shit. I don’t have that kind of money.” You choke, unsure of what the hell you’re going to do.
The bell rings above the door and Pope walks in, “we got her fixed up for you.”
You shake your head, “yeah and I can’t afford to pay you because you guys didn’t consult me so it’s - I don’t know what to do.” You choke again.
Pope frowns and Frankie hisses. He had thought he had talked to you. “Pendejo.” He groans, throwing the towel in his hand at Pope.
“Sweetheart, that’s what we had to do to get her running.” He tells you. “You could easily sink another two or three grand in that car. She’s honestly barely road worthy.” Pope explains and Frankie shakes his head.
“Cabrón.” He huffs. “You should have talked to her.”
You shake your head, “I don’t - I’m barely making my rent. I don’t have $1600 to pay you. Shit. I- I’m so sorry. I don't know what to do or say. Oh God, this is - this is a nightmare.” You close your eyes, almost willing yourself to wake up.
“Don’t cry.” Frankie hates when a woman cries and you are too pretty to cry over something like this. You shouldn’t have to worry about things like this at all. “We can work something out.” He promises. “A payment plan. I’m not going to unfix your car. It’ll be alright.”
Your eyes open, “really? You’d do that- I - thank you.” You offer him a grateful look and Pope clicks his tongue.
“There’s another option too.” He says, his voice lowering as his eyes trail along your form. “I can give you a discount if you…if you let me fuck you.” He says, dragging his thumb along his lower lip as his eyes return to yours. You inhale sharply, knowing you should be slapping him for that but shit, you were attracted to him from the get go.
“Santiago.” Frankie warns him and Santi shakes his head, “or for free…if you let both of us fuck you.” He says and your eyes widen, flicking to Frankie whose eyes are wide but not shocked. It’s not a secret that both men are handsome, something from a woman produced porno and you should say no, arrange a payment plan, and leave, but getting your car fixed for free is tempting.
“Both of you? And the car is free?” You ask and Pope nods. You inhale deeply, taking another second before you nod, “where do you wanna do this?”
“Holy shit.” Frankie whispers, surprised that you are actually considering this. He won’t even deny that he’s hopeful that you will decide to fuck them both. He can write off the car parts and it’s been a long time since he’s fucked anyone, let alone someone as gorgeous as you.
“Right here, in the break room.” Santiago tells you. “We lock the doors, everyone’s gone home and Frankie and I both fuck you silly.” He chuckles. “We’ll even go wash up before you suck our cocks.” Frankie nods, not wanting you to think you’re gonna be subjected to unwashed dick.
You should leave. Say no and tell them to fuck off but it’s been a while since you had sex. You’ve never had a threesome. You wonder if they have done this before. They seem to be comfortable with each other. “Uh, sure. I wouldn’t mind cleaning up myself.” You say, “do you have protection?” You don’t know them and you want to be safe, even if this is the least safe thing you’ve ever done.
“Condoms.” Frankie nods, knowing that Pope keeps a stash of them in the desk drawer for dates after work. “We’re both clean too.” He promises. “VA tests us and Pope’s had sex since but I haven’t.” He admits, feeling a little embarrassed about that.
You exhale shakily, “I’m clean too. Tested at my last gyno appointment. Uh, can I use the bathroom?” You ask and the boys nod, gesturing to the bathroom down the hall. You walk down to it, feeling their eyes on you and you shut the door behind you. Leaning over the sink, you inhale deeply and hate that you feel the churn of arousal in your stomach. It’s hard to deny that the idea of sex with two sexy men doesn’t have you wet already and you know you should be ashamed, you should say no but you can’t.
When you disappear into the bathroom, Frankie whirls on Pope. “Did you fucking set this up?” He hisses, impressed and slightly disgusted by what they are about to do. It’s almost taking advantage of you, even though you’re agreeing. Pope smirks and winks at his friend. “You won’t be upset when her pretty little mouth is sucking your soul out through your cock.” He predicts, arching a brow as if to challenge him. “Not like we haven’t double teamed a girl before. Although now I know she’s clean, I wish you hadn’t told her about the condoms. We could have filled her tank too.” Frankie rolls his eyes at the bad joke but his cock twitches under the mechanics suit at the thought of to high you. His friend has known him for far too long because he grins and slaps his back. “There’s the Fish I know. Go wash your cock and balls.” He orders and Frankie shuffles off to the employee shower room.
You wash your face and freshen up elsewhere before heading back into the hall and your name is called from the break room that Pope told you about earlier. You follow his voice and enter the room, taking note of the ratty sofa and chair in the space, the fridge in the corner and the ancient tv in the corner to match the one in the waiting room. Frankie isn’t back yet so you set your purse down and Santi sits on the sofa. “Come take a seat, relax.” He says, “you can say no at any point. Say the word and we stop.” He promises and you believe him. You sit down next to him, knee bouncing and his large hand stops it with a slight chuckle. “Nervous?” He asks and you nod, eying the condoms on the small coffee table.
“Yeah. I haven’t done this before.” You confess, “threesome. Or sex in exchange for car parts.” You joke breathily and Santi chuckles. It dies down after a moment and he clears his throat, reaching up to cup your cheek. Your eyes burn into his and he leans closer, slowly pressing his lips against yours. The contact is soft and you don’t pull back, shyly kissing him back until the fire in your belly ignites and you grip his overalls, deepening the kiss until his tongue is sliding against yours.
Frankie comes back with just a towel wrapped around his waist. Deciding a full shower would be appropriate. It was a good thing to have in the shop and made it easy to get ready for a date after work. Or fucking a girl in exchange for getting her car fixed, like now. “Go bathe your ass, pendejo.” He huffs, watching as you pull away from Pope and fluster. “I’ll keep our girl entertained.” You’ve agreed to this, so he’s interested, imagining you while he was washing. His cock is already half hard under the towel and he smirks.
Your eyes take in the sight of the mechanic. It’s clear he’s middle aged, a slight stomach, but fuck if you don’t find that sexier than a six pack. The water droplets down his chest have you itching to lick his skin. Deciding to do just that, you stand up and walk over to him, leaning forward to run your tongue along his collarbone to gather the lingering droplets of water from his skin.
“Fuck.” Frankie groans, grabbing your waist and hissing at how good the first touch of you feels. He can hear Pope laugh as he walks out of the room but he’s too busy ducking his head down to press his lips to yours in a kiss that is more impatient and slightly rougher than his brother in arms.
His fingers dig into your waist and his lips press harshly against yours. You moan into his mouth, taken off guard by the fact that you’re enjoying this so far, and his tongue slides against yours. His hands slide down to your ass and he pulls you up against him, his hard cock pressing against your hip. You let him kiss you for another moment until you push him back and he frowns, worried that you’re upset and wanting to leave. He’d let you go but he’d be disappointed. You bite your lip and reach for the tuck of his towel, pulling on it until it falls and reveals his cock. “Shit.” You murmur and admire his thick length, twitching under your gaze and you seem to fall under a spell when you kneel down and wrap your fingers around him. Your tongue is peaking out to press against the leaking slit while your eyes focus on his.
“Shit.” Frankie hisses, taking off guard by the fact that you are almost eagerly getting on your knees for him. “Fuck- strip down.” He growls out. “I want to see your tits and I want your pussy to leak all over my floor.” His cock twitches in your hand, but he pulls his hips back and offers you a hand.
His words make you clench around nothing and you reach for the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head to expose your bra. You push your shirt down and leave you in your underwear. “All of it, baby.” Frankie orders and you nod, undoing the clasp of your bra and you let the straps fall down your arms and expose your tits to the mechanic you barely know.
“Fuck, those are nice.” He groans, reaching out and cupping your tits while you hook your fingers into your panties. He squeezes them and then pinches your nipples and tugs on them. “You’re gonna suck my cock, right pretty girl?” He groans. “Get it all nice and wet to fuck you?”
Usually, dirty talk like that would make you cringe but coming from his mouth? Shit, it has you dripping. “Ye-yes. Gonna make sure you’re gonna be just right to fuck my little pussy.” You talk back just as dirty, thrilled by it when his cock jumps. You step out of your panties and Frankie groans, admiring you until you kneel down on the linoleum floor to wrap your fingers around his cock again.
“Fuck.” Frankie hisses, biting his lip as he looks down at you. “Do a good job and I’ll eat your pussy too.” Despite this being an arrangement so you don’t have to pay for your car being fixed, Frankie likes eating pussy and it’s been awhile since he’s had his head framed by a woman’s thighs. You moan quietly and nod before you lean forward and take the head of his cock into your mouth. “Fuuuck.” He hisses, chin dropping down to his chest as he watches you engulf his cock.
You close your eyes for a moment, wanting to compose yourself as the head of his cock presses against your throat and you inhale deeply through your nose just as Frankie says “eyes on me.” You open your eyes and look at him as you take him deeper, unaware that Pope is back and watching you and Frankie.
He sees Pope, but he doesn’t take his eyes off you. He knows the other man locked the building down and they were the only ones with the keys. Groaning when you swallow around him, his calloused and work rough hand caresses your cheek. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth,” he coos. “Spread your thighs, sweetheart. Is your little clit throbbing?” Pope smirks, aware that Frankie’s raspy voice manages to make women dripping wet when he talks dirty. Dropping his own towel and wrapping his hand around his hard cock to squeeze it as he walks closer. Keeping quiet until he is kneeling behind you and sliding his other hand between your thighs to touch your cunt while his cock presses against your ass. “Already soaked, Fish.” He moans in your year, kissing just below it. “I think she likes sucking your cock.”
You moan around Frankie’s cock, knowing you shouldn’t feel like this. You shouldn’t like it this much, but you do. You work his cock deeper until you choke and saliva drips down your chin. You whimper when Pope rubs your clit and it’s been so long since someone else touched you, you grind down onto his hand while your fingers dig into Frankie’s ass to encourage him to rock his hips.
“Yeah she does.” Frankie grunts, moving his hand down so he can feel your throat work around him. It’s so sexy to see you on your knees, Pope behind you as he makes sure you’re ready to take both of them. “I say she swallows my load and I’ll eat her cunt like a good little girl while she sucks you off.”
Pope hums in agreement, kissing along your neck while his fingers work your clit. You whimper around Frankie's cock, nodding in pleasure and agreement. You can't believe how these two men have turned you into a wanton whore within moments but you desperately want to make them cum, to feel and see it.
Pope’s lips travel over your shoulders, up your neck. Kissing and licking, occasionally biting your skin as his fingers rub your clit. Eventually moving down and pressing two of his thick digits inside while twisting his wrist around to press his thumb back to your sensitive bundle of nerves. “She’s so tight, Fish.” He groans, loving how you clench around his fingers. “She’s gonna feel so good.”
You clench around his fingers, lost in the sensations of his mouth and his hand caressing you. You choke on Frankie's cock as he pushes deep again and your jaw is starting to ache a little but you push through, wanting him to cum down your throat.
Frankie hisses, and rocks his hips forward again. Spit and pre-cum slide down your jaw and he loves how your eyes fill with tears and yet you don’t try to wipe them away. “So fuckin’ pretty.” He groans, “mouth like a fucking Hoover.” He can hear Pope’s fingers working in and out of your cunt over his grunts and the thick swallowing sounds and moaning around his cock. “Keep going, baby, want you to swallow my cum.”
You want it too. Your throat swallows around him and your teary eyes flick up to meet his as he pushes deep enough to slide down your throat, the hairs at the base of his cock tickling your nose and that's when he falls apart. You close your eyes when he starts to cum, walls fluttering around Pope's fingers as you struggle to swallow the spurts of cum from Fish and his groan echoes in the break room.
“Shit….shiiiiiiiit.” He hisses, eyes nearly crossing in pleasure, handing tightening around your jaw as you swallow him down. Spurts of his cum push out of the corners of your mouth and he rubs his thumb in it to massage it into your skin. “That’s it, good girl.”
You let him work himself dry and you swear you're dripping down Pope's wrist as you let Frankie use you until he is pulling his cock free of your mouth. He surges to lean down, pressing his lips against yours. Tongue pushing deep to taste himself on your tongue without care, and you whimper into his mouth.
Pope chuckles, biting down on your shoulder. “Frankie tastes good, sweetheart?” He asks as he curls his fingers deep inside you. “Let me have a taste.” He hums, not caring about tasting the other man’s spend. He’s done this before with him. Turning your head, he breaks the kiss with Frankie and captures your lips with his own as he pumps his finger inside you.
You clench around Pope’s fingers as kisses you without care about the taste in your mouth. That makes you realize they’ve done this before and it makes you moan into his mouth as his fingers curl inside of you. You need more. You break the kiss and murmur against his chin, “wanna taste you next.”
Frankie chuckles, his cock shrinking back down and hanging flaccidly, but Pope is rock hard against your ass. “We should move this to the sofa.” He suggests, reaching for your arm. “Santi can lean back and I’ll bury my face in your cunt.” He’s eager to taste you, to see how you respond to his tongue.
You nod and whine slightly as Santi removes his fingers from inside of you, and you let Frankie guide you to the sofa. “Kneel down, baby.” He demands and Santi sits on the end of the sofa, his cock hard and aching. You kiss his stomach that clenches before taking his cock in your hand and wrapping your fingers around him to guide him to your mouth.
Frankie groans, watching you take his friend’s cock into your mouth and he smirks. “She’s so fucking good, isn’t she?” He comments and Pope’s head bobbles in agreement. His own hands start to roam over your body, squeezing your ass and hips as he settles behind you and pulls your cheeks apart to get an up close look at your pulsing cunt. “Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.” He coos before leans in and buries his tongue inside your wet heat.
You gasp around Santi’s cock. You didn’t expect them to go down on you, thought it was all just dirty talk. You expected a couple of blowjobs, both of them fucking you until they came but you never anticipated them making you cum once. You moan around Pope’s cock as Frankie ducks down so he can lick at your clit.
Frankie groans into your flesh, huffing when he can’t reach you like he wants to and he pulls away to flip onto his back. Sliding his head between your thighs and attacking your cunt from before, he lunges up latches onto your clit, wanting to hear you squeal. You’re sexy and you’re letting them fuck you so you should have just as much fun and pleasure as they do.
You cry out, letting Pope’s cock drop from your mouth as you feel the pleasure tingle up your spine and you moan Frankie’s name. “That’s it baby. Let Frankie eat that tight pussy.” Santi coos, caressing your cheek and you shift to take him back into your mouth.
He squeezes your ass and encourages you to drop your hips, wanting your weight on his face. Pope chuckles and caresses your spine. “You’re so fucking pretty, can’t wait to see what you look like riding his cock, my cock. Maybe we’ll stuff you full at the same time.” He doubts that, considering he would have just cum, but it’s a nice thought. “Didn’t we tell you that we would take care of you?”
You lower your hips, a little self conscious but he makes you grind down onto him and you whine around Pope’s cock, eager to please him now that you realize they are going to look after you. You moan when Frankie’s tongue slides through your folds and you sloppily suck on Pope’s cock.
The breakroom sounds obscene. The sounds of sucking and swallowing, moans and grunts filthily filling the air. Frankie moans as your cunt gushes, coating his tongue in a fresh wave arousal and he slurps it down greedily. Rocking your hips to make you ride his face as he licks up into you. “Fuck, sweetheart, Fish is in heaven. His tongue buried in your sweet pussy. I bet he’s already getting hard thinking about fucking you.” Pope coos. “And after he gets done making you scream, I’ll fuck you so good you’ll see stars.”
You swear you can hardly breathe as his filthy words make your pussy clench and you can’t handle it. You want these men. That’s become clear. You rock back onto Fish’s face, back arching as you try to take Pope’s cock deeper but he’s longer than Frankie, not as thick. You choke and saliva drips from your mouth as you try your best to make this blowjob one of the best he’s gotten.
“That’s it sweetheart.” Pope groans, “take it all. Fish, I swear I’m in fuckin’ love with her mouth.” He hisses, talking to Frankie underneath you. Fish grunts his agreement into your folds and is thankful that he had washed his hands, scrubbing them in the shower as he pushes two fingers inside you for you to clench around when you cum. “Cum for Frankie, sweetheart, soak his face.”
You groan, rocking back onto Frankie’s face and you’re so close. So fucking close. His lips suck on your clit as his fingers curl inside of you. You moan around his cock as you cum, clamping down on Frankie’s fingers as he makes you orgasm.
Frankie’s spent cock twitches and he starts to harden again. Loving how you are soaking his face as he sucks on your clit. Your hips grinding down on his face and he moans happily. Working you through the orgasm with singular determination.
You moan around Pope’s cock as Frankie works you through it and you want Pope to cum too. You wrap your fingers around the base of his cock, squeezing him, and you hollow your cheeks, wanting him to spill down your throat.
It takes a long moment before Frankie is willing to pull away. Listening to Pope’s groans getting breathier and lighter as he gets closer to coming. Finally pulling his head away and twisting his body so he can watch you swallow his friend down. “That’s it baby,” He grunts. “Make Santi cum. Swallow him down too so I can fuck you.”
It takes a couple more bobs of your head for Santi to cum. Your cunt clenches around nothing as Frankie withdraws his fingers and Pope starts to spill down your throat. His groan is low and loud, echoing in the room as he twitches while he spills down your throat, making you moan around him.
“Fuck….” Santi hisses, head dropping back against the sofa and moaning out as he throbs in your mouth.
“Fuck, girl, you are so gorgeous like this.” Frankie groans, chuckling as he wraps his wet hand around his cock and starts to slowly pump himself completely hard. “Swallow him down like a good girl.” He orders.
You obey, eagerly swallowing every drop of cum. Santi cums less than Frankie, none of it dripping down your chin as you let the salty seed spurt down your throat until he’s softening in your mouth. You pull off of him and open your mouth, displaying your tongue to him to show you’ve swallowed every drop.
“Good girl.” Pope pants, grinning as he leans in to press his lips to yours.
“Don’t be greedy, cabrón.” Frankie huffs, pulling you back and scowling at his grinning friend. Taking over kissing you greedily and tasting him out of your mouth with no issue.
You’ve never known two men so comfortable with each other and it’s intoxicating. You cup his cheek as his tongue slides against yours. “Baby, I need - I need you to fuck me.” You whine into Frankie’s mouth.
He hums happily, pleased that you are begging him although he knows if he had just cum, you would be begging Pope. “I’m going to fuck you.” He promises. Leaning over and grabbing a condom off the table. “How do you want to be fucked, pretty girl?” He demands. “Back, hands and knees?” He rips the packet open and starts to roll it down his length. Wanting you to decide how he fills you.
“On my back.” You answer breathlessly and Frankie nods, shifting back so you can lay down on the sofa. Pope frames your shoulders, looking down at you, and his hands instantly grab your tits. You moan and Frankie kneels on the sofa, pushing your legs apart so he can settle between them.
Shuffling closer and pumping his cock, Frankie looks down at you. Watching you squirm and moan under Pope’s touch. “Gonna fuck you, baby.” He promises, notching himself at your entrance and pulling one leg up to drag across the back of the sofa for more access. “Right now.” He grunts as he starts pushing in.
Your eyes roll into the back of your head as he stretches you out. He’s thick and you haven’t had sex in a while. Not since your ex. You reach up to grip Pope’s forearms as he squeezes your tits and you close your eyes. “Oh I think she likes that already, Cat.” Santi chuckles and you nod, mouth falling open as he pushes deeper until he’s fully inside of you.
“She’s fucking tight.” Frankie growls, gritting his teeth together and trying to control himself. Your hot walls around him make him just want to destroy you, but he needs to let you adjust. “Tightest little cunt I’ve ever fucked.” He hisses when you squeeze him in response to his twitching deep inside you.
You know he’s just lost in the moment but his words make you whine with need and Pope chuckles as he pinches your nipples. “God, she’s a cock hungry little whore, ain’t she?” He asks his best friend who nods and gives you another moment before he starts to move, pulling out of you almost all the way until he decides to push back in in a thrust that takes your breath away.
Frankie chuckles, loving the little squeak that gets cut off. “Let me hear you, baby.” He grunts, pulling back for another thrust. “No one here, you can scream my name as loud as you need to.” Snapping his hips forward, he drills into you again to start a harsh pace.
You can’t deny him. You cry out as he punches deep, feeling like he’s splitting you in two but you fucking love it. Your nails dig into Santi’s forearms as you take what Frankie gives you, moaning his name and you’re soaking him with wave after wave of arousal until your pussy starts to squelch with each thrust.
Luckily the sofa is leather and can be wiped off, otherwise you would be soaking it. Every time you gush around him. Making him groan as he rocks into you. “Is it worth it?” He grunts. “Letting us fuck you? Being our little slut for the night?”
You nod, “so- so worth it. Oh God. I- keep talking.” You beg, loving to hear his deep voice saying such filthy things. Pope chuckles, “keep going, Fish. She loves hearing you talk dirty. Had her soaking my fingers earlier.”
He chuckles and twitches inside you again. “She’s such a dirty slut.” He tells Pope. “I should just take off the condom and fill her cunt up with my cum, make a mess of her.” He hums. “Or I’ll pull out and cum all over her. Covering her like the little cum whore she is.”
“Oh fuck yessss.” You moan out, lost in the haze of lust, “want you to fill me up. Please, baby. Please. I need - I want - oh God.” You pant as he rocks into you, his jaw clenched and you whine out as he pushes you up the sofa and into Pope’s lap.
He smirks, enjoying how much you are begging for it but he would never make that change while everyone is caught up in the moment. “Good girl.” He groans, “Maybe I’ll wait until Pope is hard again and we’ll both take a hole. Really fill you up. Would you like that, baby?”
Your responding nod nearly makes your neck cramp. “Yes. Fuck. I- I want both of you. Want to feel both of you. I want - oh God. It’s so good, baby.” You pant, reaching up when you see Santi’s cock starting to get hard and you wrap your fingers around him while Frankie fucks you even harder. “Frank- I - oh shit.” You pant, getting closer and closer.
“That’s it, that’s it, pretty girl.” He pants out, his hips slapping against the back of your thighs as he fills you again and again. “Want you to cum for me. Want you to soak my cock. Scream my name.” He is practically begging but his hand snakes down between your bodies so he can rub your clit. “Cum for me.”
His thumb on your clit is exactly what you need. You practically squeal as you break, clamping down on his cock and soaking him as you cry out his name. Your eyes are squeezed shut and your grip on Santi’s cock tightens as you experience your second orgasm.
Pope hisses, and his cock throbs in your hand. “Beautiful.” He groans, watching you with heavy lidded eyes as Frankie works you through your orgasm and pushes for his own. “Cum, hermano.” He urges. “I want to be inside her the next time she squeals.
Frankie grunts, grabbing your leg to push it back further and you moan, opening your eyes to watch him. “That’s it baby. Cum for me.” You demand, “wanna see you cum again.” You let go of Santi’s cock to grab the back of Frankie’s neck, dragging him down to press your lips to his.
Moaning in surprise at your ferocity, Frankie feels the tingling in the base of his spine. The rush of pleasure that happens right before his body starts to tighten. Thrusting haphazardly, he growls out your name, “gonna- fuck- gonna cum.” He warns you against your lips as he gives a short, half thrust before he is pushing deep and grinding his hips, cock pulsing deep inside your cunt as he feels the condom up with his release. Sliding his tongue into your mouth as he rides out the waves of bliss.
You tangle your fingers in his hair and you kiss him back as he fills the condom up and slowly rocks into you, riding his orgasm. “Well goddamn.” Pope coos, enjoying the show and his cock throbs.
Frankie kisses you slowly until he is good and damn ready to pull out of you. Holding the base of the condom and rocking back to pull out gently. Caressing your thigh as he looks down at you. “Thank you, sweetheart.” He murmurs, smirking at your exhausted expression. “You got one more in you for us, don’t you?”
You nod, feeling boneless but you want Santi to cum too. Not because he’s footing the bill for your car but because you want him to fuck you.
You look up at Frankie and you offer him a lazy smile, “I do. Want Santi to fuck me.” You say and look up at Santi.
Frankie smirks proudly. “Good girl.” He shuffles back and lets Santiago take his place between your thighs. Standing up with a groan and walking over to the trash can to throw away the condom. “How do you want to be fucked this time?” The other man hums as he strokes a finger through your sensitive folds.
You whimper at the sensation and shift to kneel. “I want to ride you.” You tell Pope and he chuckles, reaching to smack your ass before he grabs the condom. “Let me -” He works fast to follow the rubber onto his cock and he hisses when you move fast to straddle his thighs. “Wanna feel you in my stomach.” You coo at him as you grip his cock and shuffle forward until you are sinking down onto him.
Even though he’s already cum, Frankie watches as you take Santi’s cock with eagerness. Knowing the man is enjoying himself from the way his thighs clench and he moans, hands gripping your ass and squeezing it. Unable to stop himself, Frankie cups your tits and pinches your nipples, biting down on your shoulder sharply before soothing it with his tongue. “So, ride him, sweetheart.” He orders. “Bounce on his cock like a little slut and show us what you've got.”
You clench around Santi’s cock at the filthy words and decide to follow orders. You grip Santi’s shoulders and start to move, lifting up until his cock nearly falls out of you before you sink back down. A moan escapes your lips and you squeeze his shoulders. “Fuck. You - it’s like you’re in my guts.” You confess, unable to to believe how long he is.
Pope chuckles and Frankie continues to tease and torment your nipples. “Want to be deep. So fucking deep you feel me for days.” He tells you, snapping his hips up.
You let out a noise that's half gasp, half moan, and your nails dig into his shoulders as Frankie kisses along your neck. It's overwhelming and incredible. "Shit. I will. I won't be able to - to walk tomorrow." You declare, loving the thought even if you need to work. "Fuck. I - oh God." You tilt your hips as you rock down and the change in angle has your head tilting back and a moan of Santi's name escaping your lips.
“Good.” Frankie growls, kissing along your neck. “Don’t walk. Or if you do, feel us every time you move.” He slaps your ass while still fondling your tits with his other hand. Sliding it lower to rub the puckered hole that is so close to where you are taking Pope.
You gasp at the slight invasion until you moan, "God. Want you - want you both inside of me. Wanna feel you both cum inside of me at the same time." Your inhibitions are gone as they tear you apart with their words and their actions, making you desperate to please and desperate to feel more.
Frankie smirks and pulls his fingers away to spit on them. “My fingers are going to have to do, Princess.” He teases. “You’ve drained me dry. Milked me for every drop of cum with that perfect mouth and cunt.” He rubs your hole again and starts to slowly press his fingers into you.
The added pressure has you shaking above Pope who has to thrust up into you, his hands grabbing your ass to spread your cheeks for Frankie to push his fingers deeper. The stretch has you closing your eyes, feeling fuller than ever before with Santi's cock still inside of you. "Oh fuck. That's - you're gonna make me cum." You rush out, body shaking even harder as Frankie pushes his fingers deeper and starts to move them inside of you.
“That’s it, baby, cum for us.” Pope coos. “Come apart, want to see you, hear you scream.” He chuckles and leans in to bite at your bottom lip. “Cum.”
You practically scream into his chin as the two men work your body until you’re clamping down on Pope’s cock, soaking him and clenching around Frankie’s fingers as your orgasm hits you like a steam train.
You’re a stranger to them, they don’t know you, they don’t know your life - but they know what you look like when you cum. Watching you while they are holding their breaths, thinking that you are gorgeous as you shake and gasp for them.
You collapse forward onto Santi’s chest as he rocks up into your pussy, getting closer and closer until he freezes beneath you and lets out a groan as he spills into the condom. “Shit.” You pant into his skin while Frankie kisses along your spine.
Panting, Santiago grins as he tries to catch his breath. Squeezing your ass and rocking you languidly on his still stiff cock. “You’ve blown my mind, baby.” He hums, very pleased with the way this situation has turned out. “Definitely.”
You smile, “glad we could help each other out.” You thought you were fucked when you were told the cost of the repair or your car but you now acknowledge that it’s one of the best things to happen to you. “Might have to come back when she dies on me again.” You murmur as Frankie removes his fingers from inside of you and you shift off of Pope’s cock after he holds the condom.
Frankie smirks as he helps you off the sofa. “You can come back anytime, baby.” He promises with a wink. “You can use the bathroom in the breakroom, or go two doors down and use the shower.” He likes you, but you had done this so you could have your car, not for any other reason. He looks over at Pope and chuckles at the very satisfied look on his friend’s face.
You decide to use the shower, knowing that even if they hadn’t cum inside of you, you are sweaty and you want to wash off. “I’ll go shower.” You shift off of the sofa and stumble as you try to get your balance and the boys chuckle at their handiwork.
Completely at easy with his own nudity, Frankie walks over to the sink to wash his hands. Then going over to the fridge to pull out two beers, striding back over to the sofa to hand Pope one and then opening it as he flops down onto the couch beside him. “You actually had a good idea, asshole.” He huffs, smirking as he takes a sip of the beer.
Santiago smirks, “reckon she’ll be back?” He asks, “I hope she is. Does that sound bad? I don’t want her to get into an accident but Jesus, that pussy? Worth doing some free work and writing off parts for, huh?”
Frankie snorts and shrugs. “Not too bad. Not like you fucked with the timing belt so she has to come back.” He smirks to himself, thinking that it wasn’t too bad of an idea, but he hadn’t done that. He had fixed it the best he was able. “But that car’s a piece of shit, so who knows? She might become a regular.”
You wash off with their cheap 3-in-1 men’s body wash and kinda like how you smell like them after all the sex is washed from your body. You realized you need to get your clothes from the break room and walk in with the towel wrapped around you. “Decent water pressure you have in here.” You say as you reach for your panties and drop the towel, uncaring now they have seen every part of your body.
Pope chuckles and nods. “After showering in the shittiest places all over the world and having no water pressure, Fish demanded that we have a good shower.” His answer makes you tilt your head curiously and he shrugs. “Army, special forces.” He reminds you, “plenty of times we get ready to go out here, saves us a trip home.”
You nod, understanding and hating that you feel a little jealous about them going on dates. You have zero reason to feel possessive. You don’t know them, yet you want them to yourself. You fasten your bra and redress fast, sliding your feet into your shoes. “So, uh, I guess if I have any issues I’ll come see you again?” You ask, biting your lip as you stand while they sit on the sofa.
Frankie smirks and nods. “Anytime, baby, but I guarantee you won’t have problems on the shit I worked on.” He promises. “I don’t do sloppy work.” He’s not boasting, even though it might sound that way. He’s reassuring you that your car is as fixed as he could get it with what he worked on. “We were serious though, you need to start looking for another car.”
You nod, “I know. I, uh, I gotta save up some cash. I’ll see what I can do.” You sigh and Frankie stands up, still naked. “Thank you. For everything.” You say and hug him, breathing him in before you kiss him. Santi stands up a moment later, his hand on your waist and you switch to hug him, his lips eagerly finding yours.
While you kiss Pope, Frankie finds a pair of shorts to throw on so he can escort you to the door. He palms the keys to your car and when you pull away from Santi, he holds them up. “Let’s go get you back on the road so you can go to work tomorrow.” He hums.
You step back from Santi and take your keys. "Thank you so much guys." You thank them, "seriously, thank you. You saved me." You look them both in the eyes, and Santi winks at you, "our pleasure...literally."
Frankie walks you to your car, waiting for you to slide into the driver’s seat before handing you the keys and closing the door to lean in the window. “Thank you for tonight.” He murmurs quietly and leans in to kiss your cheek. “Best pussy I’ve had.” He winks at you when he pulls back and taps the door.
You fluster, fumbling with your keys to turn the ignition, and Frankie stands there until you put the car in drive and make your way down the gravel driveway to the road. When you are driving home, you process what just happened and you think you should be disgusted with yourself for essentially whoring your body out to get your car fixed for free but you loved every second of it. Your car cruises along and you smirk as you stop at a light. It would be a shame if something else happened to you and you had to go back to the shop.
****
A week has passed and even though Frankie has thought about that night, especially when he’s in the break room, neither man has heard from you. It’s a good thing, really. It means that your car is working properly and you’ve been living your life. Leaning on the engine of a Ford Taurus that needs new spark plugs, Frankie’s back is to the lot when he hears the crunch of tires on the gravel. Another customer. He hears them pull the car to a stop and the door opens. “Go inside.” he calls out over his shoulder as he carefully replaces the first plug. “Santiago can help you.”
“I was kinda hoping you’d get your hands on my engine and make her purr.” You declare and Frankie hisses as he hits his head on the hood. “You’re back.” He says, rubbing his head and you nod, “she’s having issues again.” You bite your lip, “was wondering if you and Santi could help me out.” You’ve spent all week thinking about the two men, almost wishing your car would crap out so you could call Santi again to pick you up and help you out.
“Yeah?” The engine sounded fine to him when you had pulled up but he smirks slightly as he holds out a hand for the keys. “Leave her with me.” He promises. “I’ll find out what's wrong just as soon as I’m done with this one.” He cocks his head. “Might take awhile though. ‘Til closing.” He teases, cock twitching and he wonders if there is something actually wrong or if his instinct is right and your back to get get fucked again.
You hand him the keys and offer him a small smile, not wanting to give away what your intentions are. You bite your lip and walk into the waiting room to find Santi sitting behind the desk. “You’re back?” His eyes widen and you nod, feigning a sigh, “she’s making strange noises again.” You tell him and shift from one foot to the other, “Frankie said he’d be checking it out after the one he’s working on now.”
Santiago nods and motions towards the waiting area. “You can wait out here or you know where the break room is.” He smirks slightly and licks his lips as he remembers the last time you were in that room. “You know that we will take care of it, of you.” He drops his voice down and watches as your eyes swim with lust.
You decide to make your intentions known and walk down to the break room. Exhaling shakily, you wait for someone to follow you and it doesn’t take long for Santi’s hands to find your waist as you look up at the tv in the corner. “You come in for another issue?” He asks, voice low in your ear. “She’s not purring like she should be. Figured I should get it checked out.”
“Hmmmm.” Santiago smirks, seeing through your weak story and he presses close, flattening his front against your back. “Frankie will fix her.” He promises, whispering the words into your ear and grinning when you shudder. “Question is, how expensive will it be? And how will you pay for it?”
“I - I was thinking…maybe you could honor the last deal we had? Since it’s only been a week and it’s gone wrong already.” You say softly, feeling a little ashamed until his nose nudges your neck and his warm breath washes over your skin, making you shiver.
Since the customer wasn’t waiting for the car he had been working on, Frankie abandoned it as soon as you walked inside and started looking at yours. Quickly finding out that nothing is wrong with the car beyond what he knew about a week ago. He chuckles to himself as he wipes his hands as he walks over to the door. No one else is at the shop and once again, you are alone with the two men. He walks in to find you and Santiago looking very intimate and he hums. “Well, sweetheart, looks like you’re in another bind.” He lies, feigning concern. “Transmissions gone and it’s gonna be at least a thousand bucks.”
You make sure you look a little distraught as you turn to face the other man. “I- you know I don’t have the money. Can we - can we honor the last deal we had?” You ask, sticking your lower lip out.
His eyes slide behind you to Pope and it’s obvious that he’s seen through your charade. Pretending to consider it, he bites his lip. “Depends on what you’ll let us do, baby.” he finally decides. “We’ve both fucked you, gotten our dicks sucked. What can you give us this time?” Your eyes widen and he smirks. “I’m thinking that you let us fuck you bare this time.” He growls. “No condom. Both holes.”
You close your eyes, trying to refrain from your shiver of anticipation, and you pretend to consider it. “And you’ll do what it takes to fix my car?” You ask, “for free?” Frankie nods and you bite your lip, “deal.” You hold your hand out and he takes it, dragging you to him so he can press his lips to yours. You moan into the kiss, reaching up to tangle your fingers in his hair as Santi comes up behind you to kiss your neck and work on the button of your jeans. It’s as overwhelming as it was before but you’re already drunk on them both.
They should stop and clean up. Shower, but somehow Frankie doesn’t think that you care how clean they are. Maybe you even prefer the idea of sweaty, hardworking men using you. His tongue slides into your mouth as he snakes a hand up your shirt to squeeze your tit over the lacy bra you are wearing. Something you obviously put on in anticipation of getting fucked. Frankie drags his lips away from yours to groan. “Do you want her ass?” He asks Pope, knowing the man loves anal.
The way he discusses you like you’re an object shouldn’t make you clench around nothing but it does and Santi’s fingers slide into your lace panties to find your clit and you moan, arching your chest into Frankie’s hand. “Of course, hermano. Her ass is mine. You take her pussy. She’s already wet for us.” He chuckles darkly as he twists his hand to slide his finger through your folds as Frankie pulls your shirt over your head.
“Of course she is.” Frankie scoffs. “We’re going to make her cum. Multiple times. How often does that happen?” He quickly unhooks your bra and ducks his head down to wrap his lips around your nipple and bites down on it.
You pant, “not too often until - until I came here.” You confess, “ex didn’t make me - not like you do.” You admit breathlessly as Santi works on pulling down your jeans, helping you kick off your sneakers and he groans at the sight of the lacy thong. “Someone had high hopes.” He teases and you chuckle breathlessly, “don’t hear you complaining.”
Frankie pulls off your tit with a pop and chuckles. “Oh we aren’t complaining, baby” he promises. “I’m just trying to decide if Pope’s gonna lick your pussy while I’m balls deep or we’re gonna double team making you cum on our tongues before you get our cocks.”
“Shit.” You hiss, your body almost vibrating with need for them. You’ve spent every night since you came here to get your car fixed thinking about them with your hand between your thighs. “What - whatever you want. I’m yours. You can do whatever you want to me.”
“Oh we’re going to.” His chuckle is bordering on mean and Pope smacks your ass. “Gotta get a thousand dollars worth of pussy.” Pope teases, sliding his hand back between your thighs and pushing two fingers inside you. Frankie hums and decides he can’t wait. “You’re going to sit on my cock while Pope eats you out.”
You nod, unable to deny the man a thing. He quickly strips out of his overalls and there’s something so sexy and raw about him as he strips down and Santi notices, chuckling as you clench around his fingers. When Fish sits down naked on the sofa, Pope withdraws his fingers and you shift to straddle Frankie but he shakes his head and turns you around. You nod and shuffle back, gripping his cock so you can sink down onto him, bare and thick. “Holy shit.” You moan, leaning back into his chest and Frankie spreads your legs a little wider.
Frankie groans and slides his hands up your thighs to cup both of your breasts. Pope is staring at your cunt, his cock pushing deep as he strips out of his own clothes. “Fuck, she’s even better without the condom.” Frankie pants as he rolls your nipples with his fingers and twists them slightly to hear you gasp.
You moan in agreement, “can feel all of you.” You reach back to run your fingers through his hair as Pope strips down. His cock bounces as he comes over to the sofa, kneeling down in front of you and you watch him as you start to work yourself on Frankie’s cock. On your tiptoes as you try to lift yourself enough to ride him.
Grunting, Frankie rocks his hips up to fill you again. Enjoying the squeal and he squeezes your breasts roughly again. “Couldn’t get enough of us, could you?” He grunts. “Too bad we aren’t your landlords. You could just pay rent in pussy.” He teases. “Be our personal cocksleeve.”
“Fuck.” You pant, tilting your head back against his shoulder. “I fucking wish.” You declare and Santi runs his hands along your thighs, bringing your attention to him. You look down and his dark eyes meet yours as he leans forward to slide his tongue against your clit, just above where Frankie’s cock is disappearing inside of you. “Oh my God.” You whine at the added sensation.
“Eat her pussy good, Pope.” Frankie orders as he starts to nibble and lick on your neck. “She deserves to cum before we’re filling these little holes with our loads.” He groans when you clench down on him. “You like that, baby? You want to drip our cum? We can jerk off on you too.”
“Yes. Shit. I want - I want you to ruin me. Use me. Cum on me. In me. Do- do whatever you want.” You ramble, knowing that you’re completely drunk on them. You’ve never been treated like this and it has you begging for more. Pope’s tongue slides along your folds and you moan when he sucks your clit into his mouth.
Slapping your breast, Frankie bites down on your shoulder, hoping to leave teeth impressions. Leaving a mark on your skin. He rocks his hips up and hums. “We will. You’re such a willing little slut for us.” He hisses, loving how much you enjoy the dirty talk.
“I am. Only for you. Only ever like this for you two. Fuck, Frankie. I- shit.” You reach down to tangle your fingers in Santi’s hair, rocking your hips again to try and find the spot to make you cream. “Oh God.” You gasp when you find it, rocking frantically as you work yourself up to your orgasm.
“That’s it. Fuck you get so tight.” Frankie coos as you bounce on his dick. “Cum for us. Cum and Pope will slide into your ass and you can cum again. And again until we finally fill up your little holes and let you feel us for another week.”
His words combined with his cock and Pope’s mouth around your clit has you falling apart. You squeal, closing your legs around Pope’s head as you collapse back against Frankie while you convulse with your climax. “Oh oh ohhh.” You cry out, eyes clenched shut.
Frankie groans, twitching inside you and trying to bite his lip to control himself. Wanting to make sure that he doesn’t cum too early. He wants to fill you up when Pope is also inside you.
You relax, panting as you work through your orgasm, and Pope caresses your thighs while you recover. "Frank, lay down and let her sit on your cock while I get her ready." Pope says, slapping your thigh. The other man nods and you shift off of him so he can lay down on the sofa.
Frankie watches as you straddle him, smirking as he leans up and bites the top of your tit and smacks your thigh. “You ready to take both of us, baby?” He asks roughly, eager to stretch you out and hear you scream again. You’re addicting and so fucking eager for their touch.
You nod, a little apprehensive but eager. You have done anal before with your ex so you know what to expect but you've never had two men at the same time. You shiver as Pope straddles the sofa behind you, a bottle of lube in his hand. "You had that hanging around?" You tease breathlessly.
Pope chuckles and he shrugs. “Spit sucks when you’re jerking off.” He tells you easily, before he opens the bottle to squirt it onto his fingers. “Gonna work you open for a few minutes, baby. Want you to enjoy it.”
You gasp softly when his fingers prod at your puckered hole and you whimper when he pushes a finger into you. "Fuck baby." You murmur, clenching around Frankie's cock while his hands caress your waist and up to your tits.
“It’s okay, baby.” Frankie coos softly. “We aren’t going to wreck you until you’re ready.” He promises. He knows that Pope is eager to slide inside you, but the man is a trained operator, he has the patience to wait until it will be nothing but the sweetest pinch of pain for you. “Open up for him. Let us make you fly.”
You nod, eyes fluttering closed when Pope adds another finger, scissoring to try and open you up a little more. You gasp again, "God, it feels good." You confess, rocking slightly on Frankie's cock as Santi opens you up for him.
“Kiss me, pretty girl.” Frankie orders, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and dragging you down to his lips. You’re intoxicating and he wants to gorge himself on you while Pope works you open and slides inside your tight little hole.
You slide your tongue against his and you moan into his mouth as Pope adds a third finger, pumping them deep and you pant into Frankie’s mouth. “Oh God. I need - please. Need you both inside of me now.” You beg, needing to feel fuller than ever before.
Frankie and Pope both chuckle because of how desperate that you sound. Frankie kisses you again as Pope slowly withdraws his fingers and reaches for the luge again to generously coat his cock in the clear jelly. “Relax for me, sweetheart.” His hand caresses your spine as he shuffles closer and presses the head of his cock to your puckered hole as Frankie holds your hips steady.
You inhale deeply, preparing yourself to take his cock. You bite your lip as he pushes into you and you wince at the slight pinch but it disappears as soon as it comes, and you are moaning when Pope pushes into you and you feel fuller than you've ever felt in your life. "Holy shit." You hiss, body almost shaking from the sensation.
“That’s it, baby.” Frankie caresses your sides. “You’re doing so good. You look so fucking pretty split open by our cocks. Doesn’t she, Pope?”
"Fucking incredible, hermano." Pope says as he watches his cock disappear into your ass and you're so fucking tight. He thought your pussy was tight but this is - it's mind numbing. "I need you to move." You tell them, thighs shaking slightly.
“We’re gonna move.” Frankie promises, lifting his hips and slowly starting to scrub his cock along your walls. “You just hold still and let us do all the work, baby.”
You can’t move, sandwiched between the two men as their cocks push deep until they start to move. Frankie moves first then Pope, alternating so you’re always full of one cock and it’s overwhelming, more than you’ve ever felt before. Inhumane whines and cries escape your lips as you let them use your body.
Frankie can tell you love it, even if you can’t speak right now. Your tight little cunt is made even tighter by Pope and he can feel the other man through the thin wall. Sliding his hand around your hip as he rocks his own up, his thumb finds your clit and he presses against it to start rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves.
You squeal at the added stimulation. It’s too much and yet not enough at the same time. You shake as you let them use your body for their pleasure and the pleasure you receive back is making your eyes water. It’s so good. “Oh fuck.” You finally gasp out and Santi kisses along your neck, biting down your shoulder the opposite side of Frankie’s bite.
Frankie groans and slaps your thigh. “Fuck you’re so pretty like this.” He hisses. “Gonna be even prettier filled with our cum. Wanna take a picture of those cum filled holes.”
"Yesss. Do it. I wanna - I wanna see." You confess and try to rock your hips but they have you trapped between them as they rock into you.
Pope groans when you grip his cock unconsciously, "so fucking tight. Thought your pussy was tight but mierda, this is- shit." He hisses and rocks into you, over and over while Frankie rubs your clit, his thick cock pushing deep until you burst. "Oh I'm gonna - I'm gonna - oh fu-!" Your cry becomes a choke as you clamp down on Frankie's cock.
Both men have to stop moving because you are shaking so hard, your walls gripping them like a vice and they each moan. Frankie groans your name when you collapse forward and Pope grips your hips and immediately starts rocking into you frantically.
You are sweaty and overstimulated but you want them to fill you up. “Come on baby. Fill me up. Want to be dripping both of you. Want you to take - take a photo to keep. Want - shit - I need your cum.” You pant out, turning your head to press your lips to Santi’s jaw.
Pope chuckles and nods. “We will.” He promises before he kisses your mouth. Frankie grunts, watching the kiss as he starts to move again, falling into that alternating rhythm with Pope. “Fuck, you’re such a little slut. I fuckin’ love it.”
You pant, “yesss. For you. Only for you. Yours. This body belongs to you both.” You promise as Pope kisses your chin, his grunts get louder and more ragged. “Cum for me, fill me up.”
Santiago is the first one to tip over the edge. Gritting his teeth and hissing out your name as his hips slap against your ass once, twice more before he is letting out a strangle grown and grinding deep, cock pulsing as he fills your ass.
You love the way his fingers dig into your hips as he holds you close while he cums. "Cum for me, Frankie." You demand, wanting to feel the other man spill inside of you too.
Frankie pants out an acknowledgment of what you had moaned and rockets up the pace of his thrusts. Bracing his feet on the sofa and fucking up into you as hard as he can.
All you can do is hang on as Frankie fucks up into you a half dozen more times before he’s cumming, filling you up and making you shudder as the sensation of both men cumming inside of you gives you a small aftermath orgasm that makes your pussy milk Frankie for every drop.
“Fuuuuuuuuck.” Frankie groans, pulling you close to kiss you again. His tongue is surprisingly gentle, intimate instead of demanding while he rides out his orgasm inside your perfect cunt.
You kiss him back just as eagerly, moaning into his mouth and Pope kisses along your shoulder, “so good.” He murmurs into your skin and you hum your agreement.
“God, I definitely don’t think I can walk for a while.” You giggle and rest your weight on Frankie as he twitches inside of you.
Frankie chuckles. “It’s a good thing you don’t have to.” He tells you and smirks at Santiago. “Go get your phone.” He orders. “So we can take a picture of those cum filled holes.” He had meant it when he said he wanted a photo. His eyes slide over to you. “If you will let us take one.” He adds. “Not your face though. And it’s only for us.”
You nod, “no face. Only for you.” You tell them and Pope nods, slowly pulls out of you. “Clench baby. Keep it in.” He orders and you giggle, trying to stop his cum from pushing out of you. You frown slightly at knowing it’s gonna be a bitch to clean up but it was worth it.
Frankie smirks at the face you make as you clench down, twitching inside you even as he softens. Santiago goes to grab his phone out of his pocket and comes back over. “Pull off Fish’s cock, baby, and stick your ass out.” He orders as he opens the camera app and zooms in.
You follow his orders, lifting off of Frankie and you lean forward to display your ass and pussy to the camera. You reach behind you to spread your cheeks, giving him more of an eyeful as their cum starts to drip from inside of you.
"Fuck, you are so perfect." Pope groans, snapping several photos of the creamy mess they have made of you. "So fucking perfect." He repeats, smirking down at the screen when he gets done. Frankie hums his agreement as he watches you.
“I need to shower but I don’t think I can stand up.” You declare as you let go of your ass and shift to sit on the leather sofa, wincing at the aches already happening to your body.
Frowning slightly at your discomfort, Frankie swings his feet off the sofa and stands up, before he leans down and pulls you up into his arms with a soft grunt. He's carried grown men when he was in the Army, 300 pound packs of gear; and since getting out - hauled around heavy engine parts. Carrying you to the shower is not a big deal. "Then I'll just carry you." He tells you with a smirk.
Your eyes widen and you wrap your arms around his neck as he carries you to the shower. It’s incredibly sexy and you almost want him to fuck you again but you can’t take anymore sex right now. He sets you against the wall as he turns on the water and you bite your lip, watching him and Santi enters the shower a few seconds later. “How the hell are you two single? Holy shit. You are single?” Your eyes widen as you realize you never had that conversation with them.
Frankie snorts and Santi chuckles. "Baby, if we weren't single, we wouldn't be fucking you." He assures you quietly as Frankie reaches for the 3-in-1 body wash and the loofa that is hanging from the shower knob.
"We aren't that sleazy." Frankie adds, lathering up the loofa and kneeling down to start washing you. "Although I'm wondering when you're going to admit there was nothing wrong with your car."
You fluster, watching Frankie as he washes you, his hand tenderly sliding through your folds to wash you. “I, uh, I was going to…eventually.” You confess bashfully. “I thought - well, I didn’t want you to think I was easy or- or desperate by coming back to say I needed you to fuck me.” You admit, biting your lip.
"Don't think either one." He makes sure he cleans you gently, knowing you have to be sore and he doesn't miss the way that your hands are holding onto Pope as he leans you against him. "The sex is amazing and I'd be lying if I wasn't thrilled when you came back."
You smile, “I’m glad you think so. I- fuck. Do you think I could get regular tune ups at home? Would be nice to get a service in a bed.” You smirk, “saves me having to drive to the shop.”
Pope looks over your shoulder and down at Frankie. The other man smirks as he pushes to his feet, the loofa abandoned and his soapy hands cup your tits. "We are mechanics." Frankie teases, "we can make anything purr." He loves the way you gasp when he pinches your nipples. "Especially you."
You moan and Pope kisses your cheek, “we can make house calls.” You kiss his lips and grin, “perfect. I can’t wait to see what else you can do.” You giggle and Santi caresses your sides, “oh baby, we are just getting started.” You smirk and enjoy the way the men sandwich you between them.
“We can set you up for regular maintenance.” Frankie promises and kisses you softly. You all wash up and dry off, redressing and soon the boys are walking you to your car. “She’s good to go but we will need to check on her this weekend. Saturday?” They ask and you nod, “you have my number and address from my file. I’ll see you then boys.” You wink and gingerly get into your car. You pull out of the garage parking lot and the men watch you go.
“Best fucking tow pick up ever.” Santi slaps Frankie on the back and Catfish nods, “and we are only getting started.” The men smirk as your car makes its way down the road, several problems that need fixing soon orchestrated by the mechanics to guarantee they see you again. Even if it wasn’t necessary after all.
#pedro pascal#frankie morales x reader x santiago garcia#frankie morales x you x santiago garcia#frankie morales x f!reader x santiago garcia#catfish x you x pope#catfish x reader x pope#catfish x f!reader x pope#frankie morales x reader#frankie morales x you#frankie morales x f!reader#frankie morales smut#frankie morales fanfiction#frankie morales imagine#catfish morales x reader#catfish morales smut#triple frontier fanfiction#triple frontier smut
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What's your ranking for favorite iterations of zelda characters??
thanks for the ask!! much appreciated <3
hmmm... if we're talking proper list, I think it would go like this:
Link
Ocarina of Time/Majora's Mask/TP (he's just very. he went through a lot ok ;;)
Hero of the Wind, so WW/PH (love how expressive and aggressively brave he is at all times)
Twilight Princess (I don't know I just really like this grassroot countryboy who cares deeply for his folks, I love his quiet and purposeful Strongman Stance, and Midna allows him to shine a lot by being the voice to his silent disapproval, very fun dynamic these two share)
Hero of the Wild, BotW/TotK (he's a gremlin of improvisation and raw brute nerve, which is honestly very funny, and I kind of like the very rare glimpses of characterization we get through the other characters)
Skyward Sword Link (he's just. I know we throw himbo around a lot, but, genuinely, he looks so. content, all of the time)
Spirit Tracks Link (I haven't played the game unfortunately, but I always like Toon Link's expressiveness)
Minish Cap Link (I'm biased I played this game a lot when I was a child)
Link's Awakening Link (I know it's the same Link as another one but I can't remember which --anyway what a trip bro)
A Link to the Past Link (love the tuft of pink whatever in his hair)
A Link Between Worlds Link (I don't dislike him he just doesn't really have a ton of character from what I remember)
CDI Link (do I need to say more)
Oracles Link (I never finished these games u_u)
Other Links I have not played as (so Four Sword and FSA, and Zelda 1 and 2 --I have played Zelda 1 a bit, but, you know)
Cartoon Link (leave Zelda alone I'm begging you)
Zelda
OoT Zelda (she's so interestinggggggg what is WRONG with you girlboy guy plagued with nightmares and a pathologic guilty urge to make sure everything is correct and just and right)
WW/PH Tetra (she's so cool!! I wish we would get to do more adventures with her, but conceptually I think she's really great)
Spirit Tracks Zelda (she's just a fun time and we get to do stuff with her and that's amazing. love her!)
Skyward Sword Zelda (bittersweet stuff. I wish she was more of herself tbh, and less in a crystal, but she's cool)
Zelda of the Wild (if she was not thrown into the garbage bin in TotK in terms of character arc, she'd be under OoT Zelda I think)
TP Zelda (love her somber resignation and quiet resilience, and whatever is going on between her and Midna)
Minish Cap Zelda (she's just really cute)
A Link To The Past Zelda (she's... there, but the sequences she's connected to are very memorable)
(genuinely cannot remember whether she is in the Oracle Games?? it's been a hot while)
A Link Between World (for everything I like about the game, it's a shame she's barely a character in it tbh)
CDI Zelda (she's a *savage*)
Cartoon Zelda (much prefer her to Link!!)
Other Zeldas I have not played and do not know that much about
Ganon(dorf)
Wind Waker Ganondorf (yeah)
Twilight Princess Ganondorf (okay I know it's pretty controversial to put him above OoT, especially since he's barely in the game and perhaps shouldn't have been, but I *cannot* resist his arthouse swagger and understated/probably-not-actually-there tragedy. If that helps, they're both on the exact same level, and they're the same guy anyway!)
OoT Ganondorf (the one and only --wish the game was less Like This re: everything gerudo, but he's just iconic and a king and we love him so much. My favorite iteration to ponder upon --I'm mostly commenting regarding in-game execution)
BotW Ganon (okay this one is even Worse in terms of placement justification, but I just. It's the fact that malice is being called "rancor" in French, and just how fundamental and "part of the natural world" his hatred became. I think it's great subtle worldbuilding and it just works for me)
TotK Ganondorf (looking fly, being as internally incoherent as humanely possible (derogatory), punching spines, and! having genuinely cool and thrilling moments and a really fun final battle in spite of The Mess)
A Link to the Past Ganon (he's just creepy and overwhelming in a really cool way, he actually made me feel pretty uneasy and powerless as a kid)
Oracle Games (now that's just fucked up, really bad morning alarm clock rang too early also my moms died for this bullshit kind of energy)
Cadence of Hyrule (I know including that game is pushing it but little guy!!!!!!! he's such a little guy!!!!!! with his little organ!!!!!!!!!!! i love he;;;;)
FSA Ganondorf (I hear he's cool but I unfortunately never played the game myself, and I should really look into it)
A Link Between World Yuganon (can you imagine trying to fight for the ultimate agency, and then failing and then being used as a vessel for other shitty wizards without any regard for who you were and what you were trying to achieve isn't that messed up kind of unfortunately talking about ganon without getting sad is an impossible feat to me)
love both CDI and Cartoon Ganon, they're great and strangely goopy in their own way and I appreciate them very much for their contributions to the Culture
I think he's there in Four Swords??? okay
Impa
Skyward Sword Impa (I like her behavior and her commitment, and her design, both old and young, is the best she's ever had imo)
Ocarina of Time Impa (she's *barely* in that game honestly. And Yet. your influence. your secrets. your buffness also not gonna lie.)
Hyrule Warriors Impa (just realized I did not put HW Ganondorf/Zelda/Link in the list, but I haven't spent enough time with them to have strong opinions honestly --but Impa being a strong general fighting the hard battles is a weak spot of mine u_u)
BotW/TotK Impa (I love grandma Impa!!! love her little roadtrip in TotK, wish it had been expanded upon and she had been more involved in the Zelda search, but. not so fun fact but I cannot stand the design of her young version in Age of Calamity --she looks so generically moe it's borderline unforgivable, what is up!! with all the nothing dollface sheikah babes!! honestly!!!)
I like all the old women Impas --but I'm kind of craving another, slightly edgier take on the character again honestly
and that's it I think!!! thanks for asking!!!
#asks#thoughts#zelda#impa#ganondorf#link#thanks for the ask!!!#turns out. making lists is a good distraction#so thank you!!!
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You knooooowwww... >.>
The only difference, technically, between a school in the Zone? And on Earth? Is the American government won't recognize your Zone diploma...
Not accredited. But like..... I'm JUST SAYING? If you didn't try to pass your school off as some Big Ivy League type? Pulled the "oh yeah, you'd never have heard of it, it's local." And the COMPUTERS say it's legit?
How many people will dig deeper?
If you legitimately have the knowledge, you legitimately have the knowledge. Not YOUR fault you left out the whole "extra-dimensional" part. It makes folk nervous! And nervous folks get stabby.
So like? If you were ALREADY planning to "Move" as you euphemistically put it? Talked it over with your VERY concerned folks and friends? Who do NOT like the look of the steady but concerning rise of Anti-Ghost Powers That Be? Who finally put their foot down and reminded you that you are a TEENAGER and it's NOT your responsibility to fix the world?
Well...
Fuck those guys, I guess. You'll miss the old house, but Team "Taking our ball and going literally anywhere else" makes some good points. Why ARE you putting up with this?
And honestly, you've never SEEN your dad have so much fun. Him and the Reality Realtor just sorta... Vibe. Himbo to Himbo communications. Smatters of advanced physics. Fudge. It's great.
They move the portal. Collapse the old one in a way that makes it impossible to recover or recreate. You... kinda don't want to ask. They had that "mad scientist glint" in their eyes.
And while everyone's checking out brochures to different realities? You? Head off to the nearest College. It's the Zone, so technically you could go to any of endless billions. But you'd like your education some time this century.
Cue! Danny Fenton! Entering?
Academia's wet dream. A sprawling CITY of a college. Where the classes are on EVERYTHING and the price is FREE. People have Obsessions okay?? They NEED to teach. Debate and discuss! Study! Right papers and read them! It's been going on a while! And what happens when you find a subject that's NOT covered?
YOU COVER IT!
It's like if New York was a College. Good fucking luck find the dorms. Sleep on the floor like the rest of us, you casual.
Danny was Not Prepared ™.
He loves it though.
Classes on aeronautics next making the perfect sandwich, shoved next to historical basketry, stacked above alien slam poetry. But only on Tuesdays! Ever shifting. Breaking his Fenton Born Adhd in to a fine PASTE to be smeared upon bread. Happy mental stimulation chemicals go Brrrrrrrr
If it wasn't wildly inappropriate, he would LICK IT to claim it as his then wrap around it and gaurd like a territorial cat. He thought he HATED school! Turns out he just hated high-school. College though? College, or at least ZONE College, is fuckin AWESOME.
He's sit in SO MANY random classes just cause.
Picked up and dropped them at a whim. When they no longer sparked joy. He's been a flighty bitch and for once? No one CARES. No one says "you HAVE to commit and stick with this FOREVER once you choose this" and? It just? It's so FREEING! He's learned so MUCH!
He's probably gonna come back!
Which? Is how a deeply, DEEPLY weird aerospace engineer from supposedly bumfuck NOWHERE, end up working at Wayne Industries. He's.... a lil crazy behind the eyes. Ha ha... CONCERNING ™!
Dude sleeps on the lab floor. Has weirdly spotty knowledge. Can be an unprecedented genius one second and not know who the current president is the next. Doesn't know what DAY it is. Forgets to eat. Tried to make a fusion reactor out of the break room toaster before Sandra from accounting distracted him with pictures of her cat.
It's like he wanders through life blissfully unaware that he is both terrifying and about three seconds from killing them all. Then FUCKING TRIPS because he forgot to tie his shoelaces again.
Who hired this man?
WHY!?
I mean, we KNOW why. Probably to put him on a watch list. But? He's like a terrifying murder puppy! Built like a tank! That's stoned out of its mind half the time. And have you HEARD his college stories? That CAN'T be legal. Was this guy raised in a cult!? Aaaaaaaaaaa!!!!!????
@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @babbling-babull @dcxdpdabbles @hypewinter
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wanna sit on nerd miguel’s face while i use my phone to snap other guys that’s my little chair fr😔😻
this just changed the trajectory of my life in a way you cannot understand.
cw: slight d/s dynamics, sending nudes, munch miguel makes an appearance once more, bro literally FEASTS, new character yippee (v minor), brief choking (more like a neck squeeze tbh), praise, squirting LOL, miguel gets kicked out again 😔 reader catching feelings?? we may never know. semi proofread today i felt nice. this is a longer one than usual, so enjoy!
“stop fuckin’ squirming down there and eat me out properly,” you say, looking down at miguel. his eyes are hazy and hooded, his glasses somewhere on the bed, his brown eyes clear as day. you grip his head by his hair and position him to where his nose brushes above your clit, and you moan at the feeling. “l-like that, okay miguel? be good for mommy.”
miguel takes heed of your instructions and begins to lick, suck, and thrust up into your wetness, making it hard for you to maintain something relative to your composure. in the throes of miguel’s mouth work, your phone screen, next to miguel’s head, lights up with a snapchat notification from none other than the star quarterback of your school, peter parker. you bite the corner of your lip, mouth pulling up in a smile at an idea. you grab your phone and open it to snapchat, seeing peters name at the top of your snap list. you open his snap and it’s a picture of him shirtless, abs on display, his happy trail just peeking over the band of his pants. his snap is captioned with text reading ‘wyd?’
you prop your camera up, angling it enough that miguel’s face and your pussy are out of frame. miguel stops for a moment to ask what you’re doing, but before he can get a word in you speak up, “if you stop, this will be the last time i ever let you touch me. got it? keep fucking going.” and wordless, miguel does as he’s told, going back to eating you but with a new energy this time. it catches you off guard a bit, and you let out a light f-fuck in response, but you don’t let it derail you from answering peter back.
peter. you and him have had.. complicated history to say the least. since high school, the two of you ran in the same social circles, with him being on your high school football team and you, a cheerleader. a true status quo. the two of you had ended up attending the same underaged parties, hooking up and even going steady for some time, until the blonde busty thing known as gwen stacy walked into your high school in sophomore year and made her claim on your then boyfriend. you figured it out after you walked in on them under the bleachers post-game, the spot where you habitually got on your knees to congratulate peter for his win. you stayed with him after a profuse apology and intense “i’m sorry” fuck session, to your dismay, but broke up with him in the beginning of your senior year. now, you two fuck from time to time, scratching an itch when you have it.
you look back at the tease of a photo on your phone, your tits spilling out your plunge neck crop top and your abdomen cutting off right above your pubic area, your pink thong still visible coming up the sides of your hips. you feel miguel plunge his tongue into you, causing you to fall forward, steadying yourself with one hand, phone in the other. “keep this up and i’m gonna squirt on you, but i bet you’re into that huh?” you laugh out a little, miguel moaning into you in response. you try not to get distracted and caption your snap to peter ‘nothing really’ and press send.
immediately, you see that he opens it and he replies just as fast, this time the photo of him in grey sweats with a visible tent, layer out on his bed. the caption attached, ‘wanna turn your nothing to a something? ;)’ and you roll your eyes. you move to answer him with another midriff picture, but you change your mind. “hey, look at me dweeb,” you say, turning the camera so that it’s capturing the angle of miguel’s mouth on your pussy, covered in spit and your juices. he looks up and sees the camera of your phone pointed down towards him and he goes red in the face and tight lipped. “remember what i told you about stopping,” you remind him, and he maintains eye contact with the camera as he goes back to lick a strip up your pussy, from your leaking hole to your clit. you move your unoccupied hand to his face, palm to his cheek as you slowly caress him with your thumb. “that’s a good boy.”
you move your hand from his cheek, trailing softly down to his strong neck and you wrap your hand around his neck and squeeze. at the pressure he lets out a groan, his hands moving to grip your thighs tighter to his face. “fuck miguel, you’re making mommy so happy right now- ah! fuck, just like that. keep doing that, o-okay?” you moan out. he says nothing, his eyes, still maintaining contact with the camera, clouded with lust, answering for him.
you snap a picture, turned on at the lewdness of it. it’s your pussy on miguel’s face, pink panties pushed to the side as his mouth is sucking on your clit, his hands gripping the fat of your thighs, and your hand around his neck at the same time. you make quick work to save the photo and caption it ‘busy, sorry’, feeling your orgasm approach. you press send and drop your phone, ignoring the back to back buzzing, probably of peters reply to your salacious snap.
a steady heat begins to boil in the pit of your stomach, and you keen forwards, your hand leaving miguel’s neck to grip the white sheets on your bed. “i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum, i’m gonna-“ and with that, you feel the pleasure within you tighten then burst, like a damn breaking way, and you begin to tremble as miguel continues his work down on you. the overstimulation begins to hit you, and you feel a spurt of liquid leave your body and miguel groan and suck. “oh my god,” you heave out, “st-stop, no more.”
miguel places a final kiss to your mound as he moves to lift your limp hips for you. he feels sheepish how, his sweater and mouth drenched with your liquids. he wipes his lips and makes way to speak to your still firm on the bed. “are- are you okay?”
you say nothing, grab the nearest pillow you have, and throw it at him. miguel dodges and understands that means get the fuck out.
after collecting yourself, your body still spent and sheets still wet, you roll over on your back and grab your phone to look at what peter replied to you. you open his snap, and laugh a little at his responses.
peter 🚮
| is that fucking o’hara..?
| you’re fucking with me???
| fucking whore
| you sleep with nerds now??
you make way to reply to peter one more time, opening the camera and taking a picture of the wet bedsheets, caption it ‘nerds that can make me cum? yeah’ and unadd him after.
you finally haul yourself up to change your sheets when you see miguel’s glasses on your bed. you grab them and put them on your nightstand, feeling heat rush through your blood to your face, thinking of him and the mess he made of you.
fucking dweeb.
#the ask had me sweatin#u guys need to start writing instead of me 😭#miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara drabble#miguel atsv smut#miguel o’hara smut#miguel o’hara x reader#miguel o’hara x you#miguel atsv#sub miguel o'hara#miguel o’hara x fem!reader#you’ve got mail💌#<nerd!miguel3
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Was Any Of It True?
Pairing: badboy!Azriel x goodgirl!Reader
Summary: Modern/College AU! Az’s on-again-off-again girlfriend gives Azriel a proposition: make the new bookworm fall in love with him, then break her heart, in exchange for anything he wants. He agrees, but things get complicated when he falls for Reader for real.
Based on this request! 🩷
Warnings: angst, sexual language?, swearing, Azriel & friends being assholes
Word Count: 10.2k oh lord sorry besties I couldn’t shut my little brain off
“I'm telling you, Az, she's pissing me off. The professor loves her, and I saw that she got a 100 on the exam,” Claire was seething while she and Azriel lounged in his apartment, eating the pizza he'd ordered.
“Mhmm,” he mumbled around his pizza, only half listening. Claire was always complaining about something. “And what did you get?”
“98! He took two points off because I didn't answer thoroughly enough,” she scoffed. “God, I hate her. She's going to push me right off the top of the Dean's list.”
Azriel blinked. “I mean, you'll still be very near the top of the list.”
Claire groaned, throwing her napkin onto her paper plate angrily, “That's not good enough!”
He rolled his eyes and she glared at him. “Don't be an ass! This is a big deal to me.”
“Oh, I know it is. This girl is all you talk about.”
“Because I hate her. Maybe if she got laid, she’d be distracted enough to slip up once in a while,” she grumbled.
“Yeah, maybe,” Azriel said, pulling his laptop out of his backpack and setting it on the table, a sufficient signal that he didn’t want to talk about his girlfriend’s arch nemesis anymore.
No more than a week later, Azriel’s on-again-off-again girlfriend was off-again, and honestly, he was relieved. Claire’s obsession with being at the top of the academic food chain was bordering on insanity, and he was glad he didn’t have to hear about it anymore.
He was currently at a house party that Cassian had dragged him to, with a blonde girl that he couldn’t remember the name of sitting in his lap, one of her arms draped behind his neck, the other resting on his chest. She had been whispering in his ear all the things that she wanted to do to him, before Cassian interrupted, handing Azriel a shot with a grin.
Blondie scowled at Cassian, who just smirked back as the girl that Cass had been talking to earlier sidled up next to him, wrapping her arms around his middle.
Azriel knocked the shot back and handed the cup it had come in to the blonde girl. “Can you get me another one?”
She seemed annoyed, but took the cup from him anyway, striding into the kitchen.
“Sorry for interrupting,” Cassian said, settling on the couch next to him, before pulling the girl onto his lap.
Azriel rolled his eyes. “Like I give a shit.”
Cassian snickered as the blonde girl came back, draping herself in his lap again, handing him another shot. He drank it, just as Claire appeared before him, her arms crossed over her chest, and her brow furrowed.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice husky.
“I have a proposition for you.”
He smirked, making a show of tightening his grip on the blonde girl’s waist. “No, thanks. Been there, done that.”
“Not that kind of proposition, you idiot. Can we talk privately? I think it’ll be worth your while,” she said, her lips turning up into a sultry smile.
“I don’t know, Claire, I’m pretty busy right now,” he said, turning his gaze to the blonde girl, squeezing her thigh. She sighed dreamily, leaning further into him.
Claire groaned. “Look, Az, I really need your help. Please?”
Azriel studied Claire, and he could see that it was true. She was wearing her most annoyed, don’t-fuck-with-me face, but her eyes were pleading. Sad.
He sighed, glancing apologetically at the girl in his lap before turning back to Claire. “Fine, we can talk.”
She led him into someone’s empty bedroom and shut the door behind her.
“If this is about that girl you’re obsessed with, so help me,” he said. She winced, and he threw his head back. “Unbelievable. Claire, I don’t want to hear about this anymore! I don’t care about your problems.”
“Just hear me out!”
He crossed his arms over his chest, and raised an eyebrow at her, waiting.
“She actually is threatening my spot on the Dean’s list now,” she said, looking close to tears.
He looked pointedly at her. “And?”
“And I was thinking about what I said earlier… about how if a really hot guy was interested in her, maybe she would stop caring about her grades so much,” she said, smiling at him now.
“And?” Azriel just wished she would get to the point.
Claire sighed, exasperated. “I need you to seduce her.”
Azriel barked out a laugh, leaning his shoulder against the nearest wall. “You’re kidding, right? Why would I do that?”
She stepped closer to him, trailing a finger along his chest, her touch feather-light through his black t-shirt. She looked up at him from beneath her lashes, “Because I asked? Because I’ll give you anything you want,” she said, her voice dropping seductively.
He held her gaze, leaning down until their mouths were a breath away. Azriel heard her breath hitch.
Then he pulled away rapidly, and she blinked. “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Her brow furrowed, her nose scrunching up. Oh, she was furious. Azriel's mouth turned up into his calculated half smile.
“What do you want, Az?” she huffed.
“Hmm,” he said, taking his time to think. Claire scowled. “I haven’t decided yet. But when I need to call in a favor of my own, you have to promise to do it. No matter what,” he drawled.
To her credit, she really looked like she was thinking it through, trying to think of another way to push this girl off the list. But finally, she sighed. “Deal.”
He pushed off the wall, walking towards the door. “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Claire shook her head, her eyes still alight with her anger. “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
Azriel bristled a bit, leaning against the door now. “I know I’m an asshole, but that seems too far, don’t you think?”
“No. If she’s going to be distracted enough that her grades will slip, you need to make it seem real,” she said, and then smiled as if she had a wicked thought.
“What?” Azriel asked.
“And then you break her heart, right before exams,” she said excitedly, her eyes burning with enthusiasm now. “You tell her, in front of everyone, that it was all fake.”
He rubbed at his bicep, a nervous tic that Claire picked up on immediately. “Jesus, Claire. I don’t want to ruin this girl’s life.”
She arched her brow. “Why not? She’s ruining mine.”
Azriel rolled his eyes and Claire pounced, “Any favor, Az. Any time, you can tell me to do whatever you want,” she smirked.
He groaned, pinching his nose. “Fine,” he ground out. “Where do I find her?”
Claire beamed. “Where else would a nerd be? The library, of course.”
---
You shifted in your seat, starting to feel sore after poring over your notes for hours. Maybe you should go for a walk. Maybe. But, you still had so much to do…
Groaning, you crossed your arms on the table, laying your head down on top of them. Just a minute, you just needed a tiny break --
“Studying always makes me feel like that, too,” said a low, male voice.
You lifted your head, bewildered, and nearly choked on your own spit. The guy who was for some reason deigning to talk to you was… well, what other way was there to say it? He was drop-dead gorgeous.
His face was stoic as he sauntered up to your table, his jet black hair was just a tad unruly, his hazel eyes burning into yours. But it was his body that made the breath completely escape your lungs. He was dressed in all black, his t-shirt hugging his chest and his biceps, showing off his every muscle, and there were swirling black tattoos peeking out from under his sleeves.
All you could do was stare as he took the seat across from you, leaning back with his arms crossed like the two of you did this every day.
“What class is that for?” he asked, nodding to the textbook open in front of you, the dozens of papers scattered around you.
“Organic Chemistry,” you said, trying to sound like you were normal and not completely surprised by this handsome stranger finding you in your favorite quiet corner of the library.
He let out a low whistle, “Damn, you are smart.”
“What, did someone tell you I was?” you asked.
“No, I just figured when I saw all the --” he gestured to your cluttered workspace, “homework stuff.”
You arched an eyebrow. “Homework stuff?”
His mouth turned up the slightest bit, holding up his hands like he was surrendering. “You caught me. I’m not much of an academic.”
“Then what are you doing here?” you asked curiously.
“Now, that is an excellent question,” he said, and really did seem like he was questioning it. “Girls? Parties? Though I could get girls anywhere and I don't particularly enjoy parties.”
You nodded. “Ah,” you said. “Got it.”
He braced his arms on the table, leaning forward. “I take it you’re not into that kinda thing?”
A dry laugh escaped from your throat, “Definitely not. I’m really only here for the--” you mimicked his gesture from earlier, “homework stuff.”
He barked out a laugh, his stoic face completely transforming for the briefest of moments. You couldn’t help but stare. “You’re telling me all you do is study? A beautiful girl like you? Please tell me you’ve been to at least one party,” he said, looking at you incredulously.
You blushed. “No, I haven’t been to any.”
You braced yourself for impact, for the teasing or insults to come, but he just smiled softly. “You wanna go to one with me tonight?”
Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “You don’t even know my name.”
The side of his mouth quirked up into a smile, his eyes dancing with amusement. “What's your name?”
Rolling your eyes, you told him.
“Nice to meet you. I'm Azriel.” He raised his eyebrows, “So? Party?”
“I thought you just said you don't like parties!”
“True, but I do love the thought of corrupting a sweet, innocent bookworm,” he smirked.
“No, thanks.” You couldn't imagine yourself going to a house party, especially not with a stranger.
Azriel's cool-guy demeanor seemed to drop the slightest bit. “Why not?”
You looked at him pointedly. “I don't know you. And I have no interest in being corrupted. Why do you want me to come to this party so badly anyway?”
He shrugged casually. “I like you.”
“You don't know me!”
“See, that, right there,” he snapped his fingers and pointed at you. “You're funny. Smart, beautiful. What's not to like?”
You forced yourself to hold his gaze, even as a blush rose to your cheeks. “I'm not going to a party with someone I don't know. They make true crime documentaries about that sort of thing.”
He seemed to contemplate that for a moment. “Okay, you make a fair point. What do you want to do then?”
“What do you mean?”
“You can pick our first date, since you didn't like my idea.”
“What date?” You blanched.
He arched an eyebrow. “Our first date? Weren't you listening?”
You studied him for a moment. For the life of you, you could not figure out what this guy's angle was.
As if reading your mind, he said softly, “Look, I just saw you and thought you were really pretty, and that it looked like you could use a break from studying. That's it,” he held his hands up again. “I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. If you want me to go, I'll go.”
For a beat longer, you watched him, his body language, his ridiculously pretty face. What was the harm, really? You sighed, tore off a scrap of paper from your notebook, scribbled out your number, then handed it to him. “I need to study. If you text me later, I'll let you know where we're going on the first date.”
His face broke out into what might have been the first genuine smile you'd seen from him. He took the paper from you, his fingers brushing against yours.
“Can't wait.”
You were half expecting to never hear from Azriel again. But just a few hours later, as you were eating dinner in your apartment, your phone chimed with a text.
Az: Done studying yet?
It was an effort to bite down your smile.
You: Taking a break for dinner.
It was less than a minute before he responded.
Az: Dinner? Is that what our first date is going to be?
You didn’t try to hide your smile this time.
You: A little cliche, don’t you think?
Az: Oh, absolutely. So… what are we doing?
You: Meet at the tennis courts at 7 tomorrow?
Az: We’re playing tennis?
You: No, but I’m not giving you my address. And I’m not giving away the surprise.
Az: So smart. So mysterious. I’m swooning.
You: Shut up.
Az: See you tomorrow ;)
You tossed your phone to the side, forcing yourself to focus back on your schoolwork.
The following day you parked your car by the empty tennis courts on campus just before 7. It was early spring; the weather finally started to warm up enough to not be too chilly in the evening. Still, you rubbed your arms nervously. You were starting to regret this. You didn’t know this guy at all. What if it went horribly wrong?
Before you could contemplate bailing, a familiar figure rode up on a jet black motorcycle. Of course this guy had a motorcycle. You couldn't see his face underneath the helmet, but you would already recognize those tattooed arms anywhere.
He parked his bike, smoothly sliding off it and taking his helmet off before sauntering over to you. “Hey, beautiful.”
You rolled your eyes, sure that he had said that to a million girls on a million dates before.
“What? Don’t do that,” he said softly, his smile softening and his gaze raking down your body. “You are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” you said quietly, giving in.
“So,” he said, towering over you. “What’s the plan?”
You smiled. “How’s your mini golf game?”
He raised an eyebrow, looking a little skeptical. “Mini golf? That’s what you’re choosing?”
“Yes, it is. Do you have something to say about that?” you teased.
His eyes sparked at the tone in your voice. “Nope. Nothing at all.” He nodded to his motorcycle. “You wanna hop on the bike?”
You looked pointedly at him and he laughed. “Didn’t think so,” he gestured to your car. “Lead the way.”
Your nerves started to dim as the two of you fell into a rhythm going through the course. The two of you were just talking and laughing like it was normal. It was… fun, actually.
“Shit,” Azriel muttered as he overshot the hole. Again.
You laughed and his eyes flicked over to you, lingering a bit. “You’re good at this, bookworm,” he said as he took another shot, sinking it into the hole this time. You watched, leaning against your putter, having finished that hole two shots ago.
Shrugging, you said, “I used to go with my family a lot.”
He placed his hand on the small of your back as you walked to the next hole. You cleared your throat, focusing on your steps, on your breathing, on anything but how it felt to have him touch you so casually. “What about you?”
“What about me?” he asked as you dropped your ball onto the green.
You took your shot before you answered. The ball landed just shy of the hole. “What’s your family like?”
“My family…” he trailed off, clearing his throat, setting up his shot. He paused to look at you for a moment before he swung. “It’s complicated.”
He hit the ball and it stopped right next to yours.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” you said, as the two of you walked further down the hole.
“No, you didn’t. It’s just… I don’t really talk about them with anybody.”
You nodded, not sure where to go from here.
Azriel smiled reassuringly, nudging you lightly with his shoulder. “Stop worrying.”
“I’m not worrying,” you claimed, your voice an octave too high.
“You are. I can tell.”
You bit your lip to hide your smile as you sunk your ball into the hole.
“I think I’m going to need some pointers from you on the next hole,” he grumbled.
“I guess I could help you out,” you laughed.
So, when you got to the next hole, the last hole, he stepped so close that your bodies were nearly touching. You tried to control your breathing.
“You’re gonna help me out?” he murmured, his eyes flashing down to your lips for a moment.
“Okay,” you breathed.
He stepped behind you, his body pressed against your back, wrapping his arms around you, his hands covering yours on the club.
“How is this going to help you, exactly?” you asked, your voice slightly unsteady.
His lips brushed your ear as he said, “Oh, trust me, it’s helping.”
You couldn’t say anything. Could hardly breathe.
“What do you think I’m doing wrong?” He murmured.
You swallowed. “You’re hitting it too hard. Not exactly rocket science.”
“Mmm. That makes sense. I do tend to go… hard.”
That finally had you coming to your senses. You stepped out of his grasp, turning back to glare at him when you were a safe distance away.
The side of his mouth turned up into a smile. “Sorry. I couldn't help myself.”
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes at him again. “Just take your shot.”
He smirked at you for a moment, before he swung, and the ball went right into the hole.
He turned to you, his eyes wide. You laughed and he hugged you, picking you up and spinning you around.
You let out an involuntary squeal of surprise, and he laughed, gazing into your eyes as he set you back on the ground. “Thanks for the help.”
“I think you’ve been playing me this whole time,” you joked.
His smile fell a little, his eyes sobering.
“What’s wrong?” you asked. When he just stared at you, his expression unreadable, you added, “Azriel, I was joking.”
He blinked and then his natural, stoic expression was back as he took a step closer to you. “Right. I think you’re just a good teacher.”
You just looked at him, trying to decipher the changes in his mood, who he really was underneath the gruff exterior.
He smiled faintly, stepping even closer. “What are you thinking about?”
You had to crane your neck to look him in the eye now. “I'm trying to figure out what you're thinking about.”
Azriel's smile turned into a smirk. “I'm thinking… that I really want to kiss you. But I don't want to scare you away.”
Heat flooded your face and his smile turned softer as he cupped your cheek gently with a rough hand. “Would it scare you away?” He murmured.
“I -- don't know,” you said honestly.
His hazel eyes dipped to your lips and stayed there. “I think I'm gonna have to take the risk,” he said, his voice low, husky.
“I think so, too,” you breathed.
His free hand slinked around your waist, gently pulling your body into his. Your heart thundered in your chest as he leaned down, slowly bringing his lips to yours. He seemed to give you a moment to process, and you felt him smile against your mouth when you started to kiss him back, your fingers curling around his bicep, his shoulder.
You were breathless by the time he pulled away, and as the two of you drove back to the tennis courts, you couldn't help but hope that it would happen again by the end of the night.
When you parked your car near his motorcycle in the abandoned lot, he lingered, his gaze holding yours, dropping to your mouth again.
He shot you a crooked smile. “Aren't you gonna walk me to my bike?”
Rolling your eyes playfully, you got out of the car, walking over to the motorcycle and settling against the fence near it, crossing your arms over your chest. “Happy now?” You asked.
Slowly, he sauntered over to you, his eyes twinkling under the stars. He raised his arm, twining his fingers in the chain link fence above your head, leaning his body towards you, but not quite touching. He gazed down at you, still sporting that half smile. “Very happy,” he murmured.
Your breath hitched and when his smile widened, you knew he heard it.
He held your gaze as he leaned down, bringing his mouth to yours again. You let yourself fall deeper into the kiss this time, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you.
When he finally pulled away, he was grinning. “Want to go for a ride before you head home?” He said, nodding to his motorcycle.
You had stepped far enough out of your comfort zone for today. “Maybe next time.”
He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “So you're giving me a next time?”
Damn. You blushed. “I said maybe.”
“Uh huh, sure,” he said, leaning in again so his lips were barely an inch from yours. “You can't wait to see me again,” he whispered.
You shoved him away lightly and he chuckled, backing up towards his bike, but keeping his eyes on you. “Until next time, then. Have a good night, bookworm.” He winked before putting his helmet on and speeding away.
A few weeks, a few dates, and several kisses later, you couldn't deny that Azriel was on your mind quite a bit.
You had never thought that someone like him would be interested in someone like you, but he seemed to prove time and time again that he did indeed like you. He texted you flirty little things every day, making you blush in class. He asked about your day, and seemed to genuinely be listening, and he would do pretty much anything you wanted on your dates. Last week, the two of you had gone to a local bookstore and he had watched you browse, a small smile on his face. He ended up picking out a book he wanted you to read and you did the same for him. He had been sending you daily updates on his progress through the book. Slowly, you were starting to let your walls down, despite yourself.
So, when he asked you to finally go to a party with him, to meet his friends, you accepted. You still felt cautious: partying had never been something that you were remotely interested in, but you trusted him.
---
Azriel knew he had to tread this next part carefully. Things had been going well with you. He let you take control of your time together so you would be comfortable, and honestly, he was actually having a really good time getting to know you and seeing where you would take him next.
And when you kissed him… God. It was always a struggle to keep his hands on your waist, to stay PG. He wished he could explore things further with you in that regard, but he wouldn't let himself go there. Not when your broken heart was the finish line.
He rarely let himself think about it -- the deal that he had made with Claire. Being with you felt so natural that he usually forgot he was supposed to be acting. That he was supposed to be leading you to Claire’s revenge.
He had convinced you to come to a party, upon Claire's request so she could see the progress he had made with you. You had said yes, he assumed because you trusted him enough now. The thought made his stomach roll. He was really starting to hate himself for getting mixed up in this.
Azriel acted differently around you than he did around the rest of the general population. At a young age he had learned to keep quiet, to not show a single emotion on his pretty face, to be tough, or be punished.
With you… he couldn't help but smile. Couldn't stop the laughs that he usually stomped down for the rest of the world.
So, having his two worlds collide at this party…he didn't know exactly how to navigate it. Deep down, it made his heart swell that you trusted him enough to help you navigate something so far out of your comfort zone. But if his friends saw the way he acted around you, he would never hear the end of it.
This would be a mess.
If Azriel wasn't leaning against his motorcycle when you exited your apartment building, he may have fallen over. You were wearing skintight jeans and a black tank top that showed more cleavage than he ever imagined he'd see from you. His fingers flexed on his biceps. He wanted to pull you back into your apartment and spend an hour peeling those clothes away inch by inch.
He blinked the lust away, trying to maintain his stoic expression, but failed, as he always did with you. He smiled at you and you smiled back.
He could tell by the way you carried yourself as you neared him that you were nervous. “Hey, beautiful,” he drawled his usual greeting as you wrapped your arms around his waist in your usual greeting.
“Hi,” you said, a little sheepishly. His eyes must have lingered on your curves a little too long because your eyes widened a bit, and you bit your lip nervously as you pulled away from him. He nearly groaned. “Is it too much? Do I look stupid?”
Azriel placed his hands on your shoulders gently, dipping his head to look you in the eyes. “You look amazing. Seriously.”
You blushed and murmured, “Thank you.”
He had to turn away, to grab your helmet, so you wouldn't see how much you affected him. He fucking loved it when he made you blush like that.
Azriel turned back to you, holding up the helmet, his eyebrows raising with amusement. “You ready to join the dark side, bookworm?”
You sighed, shifting on your feet.
“It'll be okay,” he said softly. “I got you.”
You nodded, seeming to resolve yourself, and reached for the helmet with slightly shaking hands.
He helped you make sure it was on correctly, his fingers brushing your chin, your neck. He bit back a smile as you shivered.
Azriel held your hand as you got settled on the back of the bike, showing you where to put your feet, and how to shift your weight with him.
When you seemed at least somewhat comfortable, he slid his helmet on, smoothly setting onto the motorcycle. You wrapped your arms around his middle, pressing your chest into his back. You were already holding him like your life depended on it, and he beamed freely underneath the helmet.
“Hold on tight,” he shot back at you, before he revved the engine, taking off much more gently than he normally would.
He tried not to think about the feel of you pressed into him, how tightly you were holding on. It didn't work. He wanted to drive you everywhere.
He couldn't resist reaching back to briefly squeeze your thigh at a red light. “How are you doing?”
“Good,” you said. He couldn't be sure, but he thought he heard a smile in your voice.
Too soon in Azriel's opinion, they had made it to the party. He parked, offering you his hand to help you get down.
When he pulled the helmet off your head, he was pleased to see that you were indeed smiling.
“Have fun?” He smirked.
“I did, actually,” you said, sounding a little breathless.
“Whenever you need a ride, you just let me know,” he winked.
You laughed, glancing behind him at the house.
He took your hand in his, squeezing reassuringly. You seemed to relax a bit. “We can leave whenever you want, okay?”
Taking a deep breath, you nodded and smiled nervously up at him.
You were doing this for him, he realized. Because he had asked you to. His heart constricted, guilt churning in his gut again as he led you inside, your hand squeezing his tightly.
His shoulders tightened as he led you through the crowd, making sure you were tucked in close to him.
“You want a drink?” he asked, as you made your way to the kitchen.
“Sure,” you said.
He rifled through what was on the sticky counter, trying to find something not disgusting for you to drink, making sure you stayed close to him.
Finally handing you a cup, he put your hand on the small of your back, guiding you to a corner of the living room that wasn’t yet very crowded. He took a seat on the couch and you settled in next to him, tucked closely into his side.
You smiled, leaning your shoulder into his. “Is this really it?” You asked skeptically. “You just sit here and drink around a bunch of drunk idiots?”
He laughed before he could stop himself. “I mean, yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he said, dipping his head to say in your ear. “Or we could dance. Or make out,” he smiled against your ear.
You blushed and he laughed again, kissing your temple.
Azriel wrapped an arm around your shoulders as Cassian and Rhys showed up, grinning at you, their eyebrows raised. Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. They had seen him laughing with you, kissing you, he knew. He had nearly forgotten where he was, why he was here with you. He loved them, but he wasn’t sure what they would say to you about him. They didn’t know about his arrangement with Claire, and he had been keeping details about his relationship with you as vague as possible.
“So you’re the one Az has been spending all his time with,” Cassian grinned.
You smiled sheepishly, leaning further into Azriel. “I guess.”
Azriel nodded to his friends. “This is Cassian and Rhysand. They’ve been my best friends since we were kids.”
He could tell you were intrigued by that. He still hadn’t told you anything about his childhood.
Before you could ask any questions, Claire showed up next to Azriel’s friends, her expression the very picture of friendship. It unsettled him so much that he held you closer to him, so you were practically on his lap.
“Hi Claire,” you smiled, and his heart sank. You really had no idea how Claire felt about you.
Claire smiled back. “Hey. I never expected to see you here.”
“I’m trying new things,” you said, smiling lightly at Azriel.
He couldn’t take it, having you so close to Claire, seeing that trust you had in him when you looked at him. He cleared his throat, standing up and offering you his hand. You took it, smiling politely at Claire and his friends as he led you through the house, out to the backyard.
“Is everything okay?” You asked, looking up at him curiously as he leaned his back against the side of the house.
“Yeah,” he said, unable to stop the smile that rose to his face as you gazed at him with your big doe eyes. He tugged you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist. “I just wanted you to myself for a minute.”
“Oh yeah?” you flushed, and before he could stop himself, he kissed your cheeks, feeling the heat against his lips before his lips met yours in a slow, sensual kiss.
He was still kissing you when he heard Cassian snickering close by. “Oh shit, he’s whipped.”
Azriel rolled his eyes as he pulled away from you, but kept his hold on your waist. “How am I whipped?”
Cassian’s eyes gleamed with mischief and Azriel’s heart started to pound. “Sneaking out here on your own. You’re usually content to stay on the couch to make out with your girl of the week.”
Your body tensed in his arms and Azriel groaned internally, glaring at Cassian, who smirked. “Oh, she didn’t know? My bad, Az.”
Azriel’s expression was enough to send Cassian back inside.
Your brow furrowed as you stepped back, out of his reach. “Girl of the week?”
He winced. “He’s being dramatic.”
You raised your eyebrows, glaring at him, crossing your arms over your chest.
It was kind of adorable, but Azriel reigned in that comment. He held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, look. I told you when we met that I go to parties and meet girls there. But things are different now,” he said, taking a step closer to you. And it was true. Things were different. You had been the one haunting his thoughts since that first date. He had barely looked at anyone else since.
After a moment, you sighed, and he knew you wouldn’t resist when he wrapped his arms back around you.
“Cassian’s an idiot,” he murmured, his focus back on your lips that he was dying to kiss again.
“So I’m not the girl of the week?” you said quietly, your eyes on his lips now.
He smiled. “We’ve been seeing each other for several weeks, haven’t we?”
You nodded, biting your lip, before you stood up on your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips. Azriel was surprised by his own relief. “Are we going back inside?” you asked.
“Not if you don’t want to,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist again.
Pursing your lips in thought, you said, “Mmm. Let’s go back in.”
“Yeah?” he said, surprised.
You smiled up at him, resting your chin on his chest. His heart melted. “I’m trying to be brave.”
He kissed your forehead, smiling faintly. “I’m proud of you, bookworm.”
You beamed, your whole face lighting up.
Azriel led you inside, his hand on the small of your back, trying to manage the swell of emotions in his chest. He didn’t have the time to process them right now.
The two of you mingled throughout the party for a few hours, and you even went so far as to dance with him for a bit, your body pressed against his, your hips swaying to the beat of the pounding music. He could hardly believe it, the way you let loose with him.
He stopped in the bathroom before the two of you left. He wasn’t gone for more than a few minutes, but when he returned, he spotted you near the kitchen, backing away from a guy who was clearly very drunk and very horny. Azriel saw red.
Before he could take a second to think, Azriel was upon the bastard, punching him in the jaw.
He heard you yelp. The asshole staggered back, swearing, his hand cradling his jaw. Azriel barely spared him a glance, his hands gently holding either side of your face, his gaze raking your body, searching for any sign that he had touched you.
Your eyes were wide, your breathing labored, but you seemed physically fine. “Are you okay?” he asked.
You nodded, your eyes still frantic.
He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he led you outside. Claire caught his eye on the way out, hers shining with delight. He scowled at her.
When you made it outside, he hugged you to his chest. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“I shouldn’t have left you alone.”
You snorted. “You were gone for a few minutes. It’s not your fault that men are gross.”
“Are you okay, really?” He asked, pulling back to look you in the eye.
“I’m okay,” you said quietly.
He held you close to him, gazing at you for another moment before you smiled faintly. “You really didn’t need to punch him, you know.”
He winced slightly, remembering the yelp you let out when he threw that punch. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be,” you said, rising on your tiptoes to kiss him.
Azriel held you until his heart rate slowed down, until his body was convinced that you were okay.
Later, after he had dropped you off at your apartment, Azriel stayed awake, tossing and turning, so many images from that night racing through his mind.
The way his heart constricted every time you smiled at him, the horror he felt at seeing Claire play nice, the terror and rage that flowed through his entire body when he saw that creep bothering you…
Azriel knew then, that he had real feelings for you. Shit.
---
“C’mon, baby, you’ve been studying for ages already,” Azriel murmured, standing behind you as you sat at your desk in your apartment, his arms draped around your chest, his lips trailing down your neck.
Your toes curled, heat running right through you. You wanted to give in. You really did. But…
You sighed. “I’m sorry, Az. I have this big exam on Tuesday. And finals are only a few weeks away.”
For some reason, that comment made his entire body stiffen. “Oh, yeah. Finals.”
You snorted. “Don’t tell me you forgot about finals.”
“No, I just… they’re soon.” His voice wavered a bit as he stood up fully. You twisted in your seat to look up at him. His brow was furrowed, his eyes swimming with anxiety.
“What’s wrong?” You asked, reaching up and cupping his cheek with your hand. “Do you need me to help you study?” He had never seemed to care about his grades before.
He leaned into your touch for a moment, shooting you a forced smile. “No, it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I should go, and let you study.” He stooped down to press a quick kiss to your lips. “I won’t distract you anymore today.”
Before you could even respond, he was out the door.
You turned back to your notes, but couldn’t digest any of the information. That was… weird.
Azriel and you had been dating for months now. Though neither of you had ever put a label on it, you both knew you were exclusive.
In the privacy of your own mind, you secretly loved that he acted so differently around you than he did out and about on campus. You felt like you got a different version of him that was saved especially for you. It made your heart swell, all the little things he did for you each day.
You were also willing to admit, to yourself only, that you were absolutely in love with him. You had known for weeks now, and had been debating whether or not you should tell him.
He had been the one that made you step out of your comfort zone, to try new things, to be brave.
So, soon. You would tell him soon.
---
Azriel had to get out of the deal. Now.
He remembered the exact moment that he realized he was in love with you. It was a random afternoon, the two of you were watching TV at his apartment. He was laying on the couch, you were laying on top of him, your legs intertwined with his, your head on his chest. He was absentmindedly running his fingers through your hair while you giggled about something that happened on the show.
And he had the thought. I want my whole life to look like this.
And he knew. He loved you.
This had scared him, obviously, on multiple levels. He had never loved anyone before, never knew what that looked like. Yet somehow, he knew without a doubt that it was true.
And then, of course, there was the deal he had made with the devil.
He had known early on that he would have to get out of the deal. He had just been putting it off, hoping that Claire’s insanity would die down throughout the semester.
But now his time was up.
He prayed to whoever might be listening that Claire would listen to reason. That she would call it off. He couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you. He wouldn’t do it.
Claire smirked as she opened the door. “I’ve been wondering when you would show up. It’s been a long time, Az,” she purred.
Azriel stalked into her apartment, barely sparing her a glance. “The deal’s off, Claire.”
She cocked her head to the side, amused. “Oh? Why is that?”
“Because it’s insane,” he growled. “You were insane for coming up with it, and I was insane for agreeing to it. I’m done.”
Slowly, her lips curled up into a lethal smile. “You fell for her.”
Azriel blinked.
Claire cackled. “Oh, this is rich. You actually fell for the bookworm? I never thought I’d see the day. No wonder you haven’t been crawling into my bed.”
He scowled. “The deal’s off,” he repeated in the tone he used to scare people away.
She really looked at him then, her eyes bearing into his. After a moment, she finally said, “Okay.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Okay? Just like that?”
Claire shrugged. “You were right. It was an insane plan. And it didn’t even work,” she said bitterly. “You suck at your job. She’ll still be on the top of the Dean’s list, even after all your lovey-dovey shit.”
A swell of pride ran through him at the thought of your name at the top of that list.
“Alright,” he said, his brow furrowed, trying to figure out if there was some kind of angle here. But, there didn’t seem to be one.
He left quickly, his heart and mind feeling lighter. The guilt of how the two of you started would always be there, he knew. But now when he looked into the future, it wasn’t a hazy blur of nothingness that he saw. It was you.
---
The week before finals, there were parties everywhere. So you heard.
You had gone to a few more with Az over the past few months. It still wasn’t exactly your thing, but you didn’t mind going, especially with Azriel being so attentive to you every time you did.
Azriel didn’t seem particularly interested in going to this one, but his friends had been complaining that they never saw him anymore, so he agreed to go. And you had agreed to go with him, if only to take a break from your near constant studying these days.
You followed him through the crowd, his hand clasping yours, as always. Drinks in hand, you made your way to the outskirts of a group of people who were dancing and you joined them, Azriel pulling you in close to him, moving against you.
A laugh burst from you, and Azriel grinned, leaning down to kiss you.
You were so happy, you thought. So happy in that moment with him. You knew people watched you, as they usually did when Azriel was like this with you. You didn’t care.
When he pulled back from the kiss, he gazed down at you, his eyes swimming with affection.
“I love you,” you said before you could stop it.
His eyes sobered, and he pulled you in even closer, so your bodies were flush together. He leaned his forehead against yours, and in a crowd of people, Azriel said, a soft smile on his face, “I love you, too.”
Your heart leaped and you grinned, threading your fingers in his hair and bringing his lips to yours.
Suddenly, the music stopped, and from the TV came a voice. Azriel’s voice.
Everyone turned to the sound, curiously, watching. The video was jumpy, filming the floor, like it was filmed from someone’s pocket.
Azriel tensed, his arms still around you. “Fuck,” he said. “We need to go.”
Utterly confused, you didn’t argue as he pulled you through the crowd. But you stopped dead in your tracks when you heard video Azriel say, “Sweetheart, you know I can fuck you anytime I want, right? That is not going to persuade me to help you.”
Your blood ran cold, shock jolting from your heart down to your toes. Azriel was tugging on your arm, but you didn’t budge as you heard Claire’s voice next.
Claire. He had been talking to Claire. What did he mean, that he could fuck her whenever he wanted? You hadn’t even known that they knew each other. When was this filmed?
“Baby, please, I’ll explain everything, but we need to go,” Azriel was saying, sounding frantic.
You wrenched your arm from his grasp, weaving through the still crowd, moving toward the TV. You heard him swear, calling your name behind you, but you kept moving.
They were saying something about a deal, about him owing her a favor. You couldn’t make sense of it, not until you heard video Azriel say, “Alright, so I just have to seduce the bookworm? Easy.”
Video Claire responded, “No, if I’m going to agree to any favor you could possibly want, you’re going to have to go further. You need to make her fall in love with you.”
It was then that you noticed Claire, next to the TV, her eyes locked on you, smirking.
You couldn’t breathe, your legs were going to give out --
It was all fake. All of it.
Azriel caught up to you then, picking you up, slinging you over his shoulder. You didn’t protest, the shock setting in. You had to get out of there, even if it was him that carried you out.
When he made it outside, you pounded on his back with your fists. “Put me down, you asshole!”
“Sorry,” Azriel said, wincing as he gently set you on your feet. “You looked like you were going to pass out.”
“Like you even care,” you spat, storming away from him.
“Of course I care. Please, just give me a minute to explain,” he pleaded, following you.
“Explain what?” You stopped abruptly, spinning around to face him. “That you played me for a fool? Made me fall in love with you as a sick joke? Well, congratulations, it worked,” you said, pouring every ounce of venom that you could muster into your voice. You turned back around and continued walking as tears started pricking your eyes. You refused to let him see you cry.
“It may have started out that way, but it’s not like that anymore. From the first date, I had feelings for you. I love you. You have to believe that,” he said, right on your heels.
You knew he could catch up with you easily if he wanted to. He was hanging back, trying to give you your space. That pissed you off even more. “How could I possibly believe that?”
“Because you feel it, I know you do,” he said, finally wrapping his fingers around your wrist.
You tugged your hand free, but stopped walking, needing to catch your breath. You faced him. “What was the point?” You asked quietly. “Why make the deal?”
It didn’t matter. But you had to know.
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Claire and I used to date. When you transferred, you pushed her off the top spot of the Dean’s list. She hated you for it. She said she would give me any favor I wanted if I made you fall for me… to distract you from school.”
You were so surprised that the tears you had been holding in started to fall. You angrily swatted them away.
Azriel continued, “I said no at first, but she was persistent, and…” he took a deep breath, darting his eyes away from you for a moment. They were shining with unshed tears. “I have no excuse. I agreed to it. I’m an asshole. But you made me want to be different.”
“Was any of it true?” You heard yourself saying, your voice breaking.
He lifted his hand, like he was about to reach for yours, then let it drop, thinking better of it. “It was all true. From our first date, you were breaking down my walls, making me smile, making me laugh.” He smiled sadly. “I fell for you. I love you,” he said, and now a lone tear did slide down his cheek. “I called it off with Claire ages ago. I told her I was out, and she agreed. I… I didn’t know she filmed it.”
You wanted to believe him, that he really did love you. But… “Even if you do love me, that doesn’t change what you did,” you said in a small voice.
Azriel sniffed, wiping the tears off his face. “I know. I am so, so sorry.”
Shaking your head, backing away from him, you choked out, “I don’t -- I can’t. I can’t do this right now.”
He took a step toward you, his eyes pleading. “Please. Please don’t go.”
Turning your back to him, you walked away, barely registering the pavement beneath your feet, the direction you were going.
Azriel called your name, but you kept walking.
You knew he had followed you home, not letting you walk alone at night. You watched his form retreat after you locked yourself inside your apartment with trembling hands.
You went to bed, not even bothering to change. Laying on your back, watching your ceiling fan spin around and around, you tried to identify all that you were feeling: shame, humiliation, sorrow. Fury.
Replaying all that had happened between you, all the times he was probably laughing at you with his friends behind your back. You felt nauseous.
How could he do this? How could he have played you for so long?
What the hell were you supposed to do now?
You woke up to several missed calls and texts from Azriel, all sent hours apart. It seemed that he didn’t get any sleep at all.
I am so sorry. I’m the worst person in the world. I know that.
I know what you’re thinking right now. I know that you’re going over it all in your head. But, it was real, baby. It was all real. I swear it was. I love you so much.
I’m hoping you’re getting some sleep. Can I see you today?
Groaning, you tossed your phone to the side, and took a long shower. By the time you got out, someone was knocking on your door.
You quickly dressed in some old pajamas and called through the door, “Go away, Az.”
“Well, at least you’re alive,” you heard him say. “Can I please come in? Two minutes?”
You threw the door open, furious. “No, you cannot come in. You humiliated me. You used me. You had your fun. What else could you possibly want?”
Azriel was standing on the threshold, his hands in his pockets nervously, his facial expression looked like you had just slapped him. “I want to apologize! I want to make things better, that’s what I want.”
Biting your lip to keep from crying, you said quietly, “Go away.”
His face fell. “I love you.”
Shaking your head, you said, “You don’t.”
He took a step forward, wedging his foot on the door jam so you couldn’t close it on him. “I do,” he said, his eyes pleading, baring into yours. “You know that I do. You know I’ve never let anybody else see the real me. Nobody but you.”
Tears spilled onto your cheeks then, and he wiped them away gently. Despite everything, you couldn’t back away. “It doesn’t matter,” you croaked. “You only went out with me so you could help her ruin my life.”
Azriel opened his mouth, as if to reply, but then shut it.
You laughed humorlessly. “See? Even you don’t have a comeback.”
His eyes softened, his rough fingers still absentmindedly stroking your cheeks. “Please,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s not enough,” you whispered, your heart breaking all over again as you looked up at him, at the pain in his eyes.
“How do I fix it?” He whispered back, tears sliding freely down his cheeks now.
“I don’t know,” you said, stepping back out of his grasp. “Please, Az. I just -- I need to be alone right now.”
He nodded, drawing his arm across his face to wipe the tears away. “Okay. Okay, I’ll umm -- I’ll see you later?”
You didn’t know how to answer that, didn’t know if you would see him again at all. He took a step back, into the hallway.
Without another word, you shut the door.
Especially knowing where that awful bet had originated, you refused to let Azriel and Claire get in your head for finals. You buckled down, spending entire days at the library studying, writing papers, finishing projects.
It was helpful, actually. You didn’t allow yourself to think about him, about all the memories you had that had become so tainted and confusing.
By the end of the semester, you had maintained all your A’s, passing every final with flying colors. And thus, secured the very top spot of the Dean’s list.
Azriel had been texting and calling every day. You left them all unanswered.
You hadn’t yet had time to think, to process through the hurt.
A new text chimed as you were packing up your car to head home for the summer.
Saw the list. Nicely done, bookworm. I know it doesn’t matter, but I really am proud of you. Looks like all that hard work paid off ❤️
Despite everything, there was a swell of emotion in your chest at his words. God, why did everything have to be so awful?
Later, you were hefting your last box into your trunk when you heard the distinct sound of a motorcycle slowing down behind you. Your heart raced. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to see him again or not.
Slowly, you turned around to see Azriel sliding off the bike, his helmet tucked under his arm. “Hey, beautiful,” he said, somewhat tentatively.
“Hi,” you said softly.
He nodded to your car, his expression grave. “You’re leaving?”
“Back home for the summer,” you said, unable to take your eyes off him. He looked tired. And sad.
A moment passed silently, the two of you just looking at each other, pain hanging in the air between you.
“I miss you,” he said quietly.
You sighed. Willed yourself to be brave. “I miss you, too,” you admitted.
Something like hope gleamed in his eyes. “I love you,” he murmured.
“I --” you started, and couldn’t bear it. “I need time.”
He looked crestfallen, like you had just punched him in the gut, but he nodded. “The summer?”
You swallowed. “Okay,” you said. “Okay. I get the summer, and I’ll find you in the fall. We’ll talk then.”
“Thank you,” he said, quietly. “Thank you for… for that. For talking to me now,” he winced. “I know I don’t deserve it.”
“No, you don’t,” you said, but there was no malice in it. You were too tired. “I get the summer, Az. Don’t contact me until school starts.”
He looked like he wanted to argue, but agreed. “Okay. I’ll see you in September,” he said, backing up towards his bike. “Have a good summer, bookworm,” he added with the slightest of smiles, before he slid on his helmet and drove away.
---
You spent most of the summer moping around, reading books, and trying to sort through everything that happened, all the feelings you had.
For three months, you sifted through every moment that Azriel and you had shared together, picking them apart, deciphering every movement.
It may have been slightly unhealthy.
You believed that what you and Azriel had was real. You believed that he did love you. And you couldn’t deny that you loved him. That maybe you always would.
Was it worth it to deny yourself the person who had made you so happy? Who had taught you new things, who had helped you out of your comfort zone?
As September grew closer, you still weren’t sure.
---
Azriel got more and more anxious as the summer came to a close. It had been torture to not contact you at all, but he knew he was in no position to be asking you for anything, so he did as you asked.
The hurt on your face those months ago was still a clear image in his mind that haunted his nightmares. He would never forgive himself for hurting you.
Yet, he couldn’t stop imagining what would happen when he saw you again. Would you give him another chance? You would have to be a saint to even contemplate that. But then again, you were the best person he had ever known. If anyone would be able to forgive, it would be you.
Scowling, he stomped that shred of hope down. He couldn’t go into this having any expectations.
Soon, he would know.
---
It was bittersweet coming back to school. Academia was where you thrived. You felt right at home in the library, stacks of papers all around you.
And you used to feel at home with Azriel.
You sighed at the thought. The first day of classes was tomorrow. You had told Azriel not to contact you until school started back up again, and knowing him, he would take that seriously.
Deep down, you knew what you wanted to do. It terrified you, though.
Sure enough, the next morning, you had a text from him:
Hey, bookworm. Hope your first day of classes goes well.
The slightest smile spread across your lips. You knew he was probably dying to ask when he could see you, but was trying to keep it light. Leave the ball in your court.
For the first time since everything, you texted him back.
Thanks, Az. Yours, too.
He opened it immediately. After a moment, you willed yourself to send another:
Wanna meet up at the tennis courts tonight?
His reply came at lightning speed:
7?
Reigning in your smile, you replied:
7.
You couldn’t remember ever being this nervous as you walked to the tennis courts. There were a few people playing, so you sat underneath a tree nearby, willing your legs to stop shaking.
Right on time, a familiar motorcycle turned into the parking lot. He spotted you immediately, striding over to you with unsure steps.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said quietly.
You looked up at him, your heart racing at the familiarity you felt. “Hi,” you said, and after the briefest hesitation, you patted the grass next to you. You weren’t sure you would be able to stand.
Immediately, he plopped down across from you, his knees only inches from yours as he faced you.
His eyes were locked on yours. “How was your summer?” he said, his voice cracking slightly.
“Okay,” you said. “How was yours?”
“Okay,” he said quietly.
You took a deep breath, steeling yourself. “Okay, here’s the thing. I did a lot of thinking. A lot of thinking. And I do love you, Az.”
You paused, not sure how to word what you were feeling.
“But?” Azriel said, his voice dripping with trepidation, his eyes guarded.
“But it’s going to take some time before I can trust you again.”
Azriel swallowed, his eyes never wavering from yours.
He seemed like he was waiting for you to continue before he said anything, so you added, quietly, “I am willing to try, though. To give us another chance.”
The tautness in his body released, relief flooding his features. “Really?” he croaked, tears swimming in his eyes.
You could only nod before he launched towards you, knocking you on your back, before he threaded his fingers through your hair, kissing you deeply.
You laughed, as his other hand came up to cup your face. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you,” he said against your lips.
Wrapping your arms around him, you sighed into his kiss. “I know, Az. I know.”
“I love you,” he murmured, moving to kiss down your neck.
“I love you, too.”
“I missed you so much,” he groaned before kissing your lips again.
You giggled. “I missed you, too.”
He finally stopped kissing you, settling his elbows on either side of your head, leaning his forehead against yours. “Thank you. For giving me another chance.”
Smiling, you kissed him swiftly on the lips. “Don’t mess it up.”
“I won’t. I swear I won’t.”
The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon in each other’s arms, going over your respective summers.
Eventually, Azriel propped himself on an elbow, gazing at you with all the love in the world.
“What?” you asked.
He grinned. “You wanna go mini golfing, bookworm?”
You couldn’t help but return his smile. “Only if I can help you again.”
Azriel leaned down to gently kiss your forehead. “It’s a deal.”
A/N: wanna see more of these two?? Check out part 2!
@thalia-as-blog @saltedcoffeescotch
#acotar fic#acotar one shot#azriel x reader#acotar x reader#azriel one shot#acotar#azriel acotar#azriel fluff#azriel x you#azriel#azriel angst#acotar azriel#azriel fanfic#azriel fic
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Careful - Chapter One
(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter One: Over Yet
We can go farther, beyond the end.
Summary:
You and Spencer broke up more than four years ago. Since then, he has tried his best to forget about you. He has pushed all of his feelings down - locked them away into a little box that he never touches.
That is, until he sees your name on a list of potential victims being stalked and killed by a man who kills single mothers. (And he quickly realizes that your son could be his.)
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. Angst.
Word Count: 5,900
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Please keep in mind - I am not doing a taglist for this series, so please do not ask to be tagged in future parts. I do not do taglists. If you want to be notified when future parts of this fic are posted, you can follow this blog and turn on notifications here - I don't make personal posts on this blog, it is just pure posts of my fanfiction. Or you can subcribe on AO3 to get email notifications when this series is posted. You can also view the posting schedule on the series materlist and check @tenpintsof-sundrop for any information about possible changes to that schedule.
Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.
Warnings: general warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of killing, somewhat graphic descriptions of dead bodies, the underlying misogyny that comes with a man killing women, mentions of children being orphaned due to their mothers being killed (though there is no mentions of other living family members taking care of those children - you can imaging that they still have nice families to take care of them if you want, I didn’t fill in that detail), mentions of children being in proximity of a serial killer; exes to lovers - the reader and Spencer broke up and the reason why will be revealed later; mentions of pregnancy/mentions of the reader having a child; mentions of sex that resulted in a child/pregnancy (there is no detailed sex scenes/detailed smut in this chapter, but there will be in other chapters); mentions of JJ x Will; the reader’s looks are described as vaguely as possible; passing mention of incest (in the context of a historical figure); all statements that Spencer makes toward the end of this chapter were heavily researched and are factual; I think that’s about it?
A/N: The reader and Spencer originally dated around Season 1/Season 2 - I state at some point during the fic that they dated for 3 years before breaking up, so they started dating when he was very early Season 1 baby Spence (or even before Season 1) and they broke up around Season 2. So technically this fic takes place around Season 6 - but because I didn't want to distract from the plot, I didn't mention any of the stuff going on with Emily or any of those major canon plot points, and I am using pictures of later versions of Spencer just because that's who I was picturing in my head while writing this. But that's how the math works out. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the fic!! This chapter is more of an introduction before we really get into the meat of things, but I still hope that you guys like it.
...
The team had been in Portland for three days.
No leads, a confusing, inconsistent profile - huge pieces missing that would likely give them the real answers.
A patient killer with an extended timeline who likely wouldn’t kill again for months - leaving them chasing their tails, looking for answers.
“Okay, so, let’s take a step back.” Hotch sighed. “What do we know so far?”
He leaned against a nearby table, looking at everyone with the hope of reassessing the case from a different angle. The hope of talking it out to get some answers.
Another woman’s body had been found just before they arrived, and that would mean that the UnSub would be out hunting again soon. This was both good and bad.
Good, because the UnSub clearly had to spend a lot of time stalking his victims - he knew a lot of details of their lives, and he had spent a lot of time developing an intimate fantasy of being a part of their family in his mind. So he wouldn’t be killing again the next day. No woman was in immediate danger. It gave the team more time to find viable suspects.
Bad because they had no physical evidence, no good leads. And thus far, the profile was leading them nowhere. It felt incomplete.
They could find no real connections between the victims - their gyms, their banks, their childcare, their grocery stores. Somehow, the victims didn’t seem to have any crossover in their lives. There was no real way to say how the UnSub had met them. And someone like this - he would have interacted with them at least once in order to become obsessed and stalk them to this degree.
“Five women dead within the last three years.” Prentiss announced, starting to round up the facts that the team knew for certain. “All of them mothers, all with children under the age of five. All within the same ten square mile radius of Oregon, around Portland’s suburban neighborhoods.”
She slumped back into her chair with a tired huff, and then continued.
“The UnSub breaks into their homes through a backdoor or a back window, and somehow goes undetected in such an upscale neighborhood.” She sighed. “He kills the mothers, but he leaves their children alive. And then he calls 9-1-1 to report the death as a case of child neglect.”
“So he was likely neglected by his own mother in his childhood.” Morgan easily theorized.
“All of the victims upper-middle class, single mothers to one child with good jobs. All of them are of the same physical type.” Rossi added on. “They’re the same race, they have the hair color, they’re the same body type - all in their late twenties to early thirties. So the UnSub definitely has a type. He’s most definitely recreating a fantasy of some kind - perhaps taking out revenge on his own mother, but protecting himself. Which is why he never hurts the children.”
“Yeah, but the children are different.” Morgan replied. “Sometimes boys, sometimes girls. Some of them are biracial - he doesn’t look for a specific type in the father. He doesn’t necessarily need to see himself in the children.”
Then, as another thought occurred to him, Morgan continued on:
“Plus, the children’s ages vary from barely a year old all the way up to five - if he was looking to seek revenge on his mother, looking to protect a younger version of himself, then he would have locked in on a critical event that he needs to protect himself from. The age of the children would be more consistent, at least, because he would be looking to protect himself as he hits the age that he was most traumatized by a specific event.”
“That’s good.” Hotch nodded. “Then we know that it’s more about the mothers. He hates women at his core. Protecting the children is just a byproduct of his obsession over these women.”
“But we still have no clue how these women could be connected or how they met the UnSub.” Morgan replied, jaw stiff with frustration.
“Focus on what we do know.” Hotch reminded him.
“All of the women were killed via stabbing. They all had over a dozen stab wounds to their stomachs and genital areas.” Rossi replied. “So, he is an aggressive sexual sadist.”
“But if he hates women so much, why spend so much time in the house?” Morgan argued gently. “Every single one of these scenes has evidence that the UnSub spent hours - possibly up to a day in the house before he killed them. He cooked dinner, set the table, and made the women eat it before he killed them. Including a second place setting for a child. Some of the kids even said that ‘the scary man’ tucked them into bed and read them a story.”
He held up one of the crime scene photos that depicted the scene of the family’s place settings - a haunting scene of plates not cleaned up from dinner, with a flower vase sitting in the middle of the table with a few white flowers wilting inside of it.
“He’s right - why bother to show them the kindness of a last meal if he shows so much aggression toward them during the killing?” Prentiss added on.
“It’s a routine.” Hotch said, the thought suddenly occurring to him. “It’s likely that he chooses single mothers because he gets to play the role of the father. With the real father figure absent from the picture, it makes it easier for him to impose himself into that role. At least for a temporary amount of time.”
“It is strange.” Reid added on, clearly swimming in thought. “It’s almost like he’s courting them? Sending them gifts, showing what a good father he could be. Each of the women were sent white carnations sometime in the days before they were killed, and after the killing, he lays the flowers around their head in a halo-like fashion. It is said that carnations represent motherhood, and the white shade could depict an angelic innocence that he’s projecting onto these women.”
“So he views these women as angelic figures, yet he kills them so brutally?” Prentiss scoffed. “It just doesn’t add up.”
“Maybe he views the killing itself as a type of purification.” Reid theorized. “It’s not uncommon for killers to emotionally fetishize dead bodies and consider them more ‘pure’ than their living counterparts.”
Prentiss visibly cringed at this.
“Wait.” JJ said, looking at one of the crime scene photos with a sharp line pulling her brows together.
Everyone looked to her, waiting for her to finish this thought.
“I don’t think that the mothers were the only ones sent gifts.”
She held up the photo, showing a picture of a colorful child’s play mat in the living room. Everyone stared at the photo in confusion, and JJ sighed and began to explain.
“Look at this toy truck in the middle.” She said, pointing at something that almost blended into the background of the photo. The true focus was a large handprint - one that belonged to the killer, but he had worn gloves. “It’s wooden, it’s hand-carved, it’s old fashioned. All the other toys are plastic, brightly coloured. Remember what the UnSub said in the second 9-1-1 call?”
“‘She pretends to have her son’s best interests at heart, but she was going to let him get cancer from sucking on those cheap plastic toys.’” Reid said, repeating it word-for-word, using his impeccable memory.
“Exactly.” JJ confirmed with a nod. “Clearly the UnSub believes that he would be a good father because he can gift his child something hand-made instead of something mass produced.”
“Alright, get the crime scene techs back over there to pick up the truck, maybe he wasn’t wearing gloves when he made it and there is some slim chance he left a print on it.” Hotch said, and JJ left to call the crime scene unit.
This left the team sitting in silence for a few more moments until Reid spoke up again.
“What about preschools?” He said, suddenly coming out of a wave of thought to announce this to the room.
“What?” Prentiss prompted, wondering what on earth he was talking about.
“Preschools.” Spencer confirmed, looking across the table at her.
“We checked already, none of the victims’ children went to the same preschool.” Morgan reminded him. “Two of the kids didn’t even go to preschool.”
“Yeah, but preschools typically have large waitlists.” Spencer argued.
Naturally, all eyes in the room fell on him, waiting for him to explain.
“In the first 9-1-1 call, the UnSub said that the victim ‘shipped her son off to be cared for by strangers half the time’.” He explained, once again perfectly reciting this from memory. “What if the UnSub resents preschools and the schooling system for taking these children away from their mothers, so he’s choosing his victims off of a preschool waitlist? What if that’s where his obsession stems from because that’s where his rage stems from?”
Reid jumped up, pointing to the map he had been using to make a geographical profile.
“All of the victims live within the same school district.” He added on. “So they would be applying to the same group of preschools.”
“I’ll call Garcia.” Morgan announced.
A few minutes later, Morgan connected Garcia’s call to the comm on the center of the conference table they were working from.
“Hey, pumpkin pies.” She greeted them sweetly, as usual. “So it turns out, the preschool that Tommy Laird, and Emily Ashton, the third and the fourth victim had in common, does have a waitlist. But none of the other victims’ names were on it.”
“Come on, babygirl. I know you’re holding out on me.” Morgan said, giving a small smirk.
“Oh, my Adonis, if I don’t have your trembling anticipation, I have nothing.” Garcia giggled. “The school’s waitlist, and their applications, are handled by a firm called Gordon & Stanheight. And it turns out, they handle the applications and waitlisting for five other preschools in the area.”
“Which gives the UnSub a perfect way to pick his victims.” Morgan sighed. “The first interaction that gets him hooked might not even be in person-”
“Unless he’s picking them out of the line-up on paper and then waiting to meet them in person?” Prentiss replied. “With this type of guy, the smallest smile, a nod in his direction - that could be consent in his mind to play father to a household that’s missing one.”
“You said they handle forms for five different schools? That just widened the victim pool.” Rossi groaned.
“And the suspect pool.” Garcia added on. “The firm has thirty male employees. And I did a bit more digging - the preschool applications have ten ‘optional’ questions on the bottom that are definitely not marked as such. Questions directed at the parent filling out the form, rather than vital information about the child. Things such as: ‘what’s your favorite food?’, ‘when is your birthday?’, ‘what’s your favorite color?’, ‘do you plan on having more children?’ - typical survey schlock,”
“That would explain why the UnSub served Lisa Laird a birthday cake.” Reid sighed. “He knew it was her birthday two days before he killed her.”
“I have a feeling I’m not gonna like where this is going.” Emily sighed.
“Oh, sugar. You probably won’t.” Penelope easily agreed. “The ‘optional’ part of the forms is sold off to other companies as survey data. And those forms are seen and handled by over a thousand male employees of Gordon & Stanheight’s larger ‘data processing’ sector.”
“Well the UnSub has to be local to Portland. So narrow down the suspect list based on his last known address and go from there.” Hotch said. “Also, it would be someone who has a criminal record. Someone committing this level of violence wouldn’t be a first time offender.”
“Gotcha.” Penelope said. “Penny G, out.”
…
The team ended up raiding Gordon & Stanheight’s Portland based office.
After some pointless conversation, some threats of lawsuits, and some even larger threats of being detained for impeding an FBI investigation, the team was able to get their hands on the preschool applications. Over two-dozen boxes worth, that they would have to sort through.
So this left JJ, Reid, Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Prentiss knee deep in paper, looking for anyone who fit the UnSub’s victimology - praying that they would be able to pick out the next victim and get to her before the UnSub did.
“We’re never gonna get through these fast enough, are we?” Prentiss sighed, continuing to sift through the papers.
“We just have to go as fast as we can, and hope the UnSub sticks to his schedule.” Morgan replied. “He has to spend time stalking them, learning their routine. Even if he has chosen his victim by now, he won’t break into the house until he’s fully confident that he won’t be disrupted.”
“And the stalking helps build up the fantasy.” Reid added on. “He romanticizes them from afar, sends them gifts. It adds to his delusions of grandeur and forbidden love. The idea that he’s swooping in to become the perfect father figure for these ‘broken’ families.”
“So we’re hanging all our hopes on the idea that this psychopath needs time to ‘fall in love’ with his next victim before he kills her?” Prentiss groaned.
“Sadly, yes.” Rossi confirmed.
“It helps that most of these applications are from two-parent households.” JJ pointed out. “We can throw out anything with a second applicant on the form, because he’s only targeting single mothers.”
The rest of the conversation easily became quiet in Spencer’s ears when he saw it.
It should have been just another page among the sea of paper in his hands, but when he saw those words on the page - that name - it was like a punch to the gut. It pushed all the air out of him in seconds, it made him dizzy, made him struggle to breathe. Like a reel flashing through his mind, it brought back a flood of memories he thought he had locked away forever.
It was you.
What the hell were you doing applying for preschools?
Spencer rushed to tear this paper away from the others in order to read it more carefully.
Surely enough, the application was filled out in your handwriting. Something that had barely changed over the years. And it was all right there, laid out in front of his eyes, clear as day -
You had a son.
A son named Sebastian, who was three years old. Spencer checked the date on the form, eagerly looking for a birth date for your son. His birthday had just recently passed, actually, so he was four years old now.
And his birth date was… fuck.
He had been born eight and a half months, almost nine months exactly after the two of you had broken up. Your son had been born eight and a half months after the day you had left and Spencer had never seen you again.
One thousand, seven hundred and two days.
Four years, eight months, and two days.
It wasn’t difficult math.
Your son was the perfect age to be Spencer’s child. Was this Spencer’s child?
His hands began to shake at the very thought of it.
Is that why you had disappeared from his life with such haste? Because you knew that you were pregnant and you didn’t want Spencer to be a part of your child’s life?
Had you been keeping this from him intentionally?
He hadn’t thought about you in four long years, he had tried so hard not to. He had spent so long forcing himself not to miss you, and now he was struck with the realization that he might have a child out there with the woman he considered to be his regrettable lost love. A child he didn’t know - a child who he had missed four whole years with.
What the fuck was going on?
There were no pictures included with the application, and suddenly, Spencer found himself dying to see the boy. He wanted to know if there was any physical resemblance to himself, or if he was jumping to conclusions.
Maybe you had cheated on him. Maybe that was why you had left town and never contacted him again. Maybe the kid wasn’t his at all, maybe-
“Reid.” JJ called out gently, getting his attention.
Spencer suddenly realized that he was hyperventilating, staring down at the application with your name on it in his hand, wrinkling the paper as he squeezed it more frantically.
“Did you find something?”
…
All in all, the team found four different women who fit the victim pattern in the files - you being one of them.
So the team split up, ready to knock on each of the womens’ doors, preparing to warn them that if they received any gifts or saw any suspicious men lingering around them in the next few days, they should call. They had to hope that the UnSub wouldn’t move on from this victim pool if he saw the FBI around. But he was overly confident, he had contacted police before.
It could definitely work.
When Hotch found out that Spencer had known you, he said that Spencer should be the one to knock on your door. That you might find it comforting to hear that you and your child could possibly be in danger if it were coming from ‘an old friend’. Spencer stuttered over himself and didn’t have the words to explain that you weren’t just a good friend to him, but a romantic flame. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the team by telling everyone that the break-up had been messy, and sudden, and Spencer still wasn’t even completely sure what had caused it. He didn’t want to rip open his old wounds in front of everyone.
So he simply shut his mouth and got in the car with JJ, and they made their way toward your house.
…
“So…” JJ’s voice broke through the undulating silence of the car ride - filled by nothing but the sound of the car’s motor running and gears grinding inside Spencer’s mind as he tried to figure all of this out. “I do have to ask the obvious question,”
“What is that?” Spencer probed, slightly glad to be relieved of his own thoughts.
He wasn’t so glad when JJ pried those thoughts out of his mind and spilled them to the open air.
“Is the kid yours?” She wondered aloud. “I mean - when did you and Y/N break up?”
JJ had known you as Spencer’s girlfriend.
Come to think of it, she was probably the only person on the current field team who had some kind of a relationship with you back when you and Spencer dated.
Initially, it had been by accident. JJ had driven him home one night after a particularly long and sleepless case, and you had been coming to his apartment to drop off some books he had asked for (shortly after he had given you a key). When JJ saw you, her natural curiosity got the better of her - even more so when you stuck out your hand and introduced yourself as ‘Spencer’s girlfriend’ without hesitation.
The two of you got to talking, and JJ invited you to ‘girls night’. You met Elle and Penelope shortly after. You had become pretty good friends with the three of them before the break-up.
But Spencer had always felt secretive…. well, protective of you. He didn’t want Morgan teasing him about you, or him wanting to have ‘guy talk’ about things that occurred in the bedroom. Not when it might mean talking about intimate moments with you. Spencer had only introduced you to Gideon over coffee about three weeks before the break-up, and that felt like a lifetime ago.
Back then, having you, Elle, and Gideon leave his life all in a matter of a few months felt like hell on earth. It felt like being grabbed by his ankles and shaken for all he was worth. He really wasn’t sure that he was ready to see you again.
It had been four years.
JJ was someone he could lean on right now.
“Four years ago.” He told her, completely honest.
“And how old is the kid?” JJ asked.
“Four - four years old.” Spencer stuttered out, realizing that now as he was speaking about this very real possibility, he might be breathing more life into it.
“Oh my god.” JJ sighed. “Well… could it-? I mean…? Did the two of you?”
It took Spencer a moment to clue into what JJ was talking about. He gave her a sideways glance and she took her eyes off the road for a moment, raising her brows and giving him a pointed look.
“Please tell me you know what does and what doesn’t make a baby,” JJ groaned.
“Oh!” Spencer huffed, a small wave of embarrassment flooding him. “Yes! God, yes. I know.”
There was a moment of awkward silence, and then Spencer felt the need to clarify his answer.
“We - I mean. We…” He trailed off for a moment, clearing his throat. “We didn’t always use… protection. We were together for three years, at the time, it was on the table.”
“Kids were on the table for you back then?” JJ asked, clearly shocked by this. “I could not imagine little twenty-four year old Spence with a baby.”
“Well… it’s something I’ve always wanted.” He mumbled quietly in reply.
It was true. At the time, Spencer easily imagined himself getting married to you, having multiple kids with you. These days, seeing JJ with Henry and Will brought him the occasional underlying pang of jealousy - but since breaking up with you, there hadn’t been anyone else in Spencer’s life that he could have imagined having kids with. He thought that he was going to be alone and childless for the rest of his life. That the dream was long dead for him.
“Hey - then, maybe this is a blessing in disguise?” JJ posed. “If we hadn’t been looking through those forms because of this UnSub, you never would have found Y/N again. You wouldn’t even know this baby exists.”
There was another thing that JJ was dying to ask - something she held back because she felt like it was a touch too personal. (Even if ‘too personal’ was basically how the BAU team lived - knee deep in each other’s business, all the time).
She wanted to know why you had a baby, a baby that Spencer had very likely fathered, and you hadn’t contacted him about it. Spencer seemed entirely clueless about the child’s existence before now, and JJ knew that because of what his own father had been like, he wouldn’t just blow off a kid that was his if he knew that one was out there in the world.
So why hadn’t you told Spencer about the baby?
“What if the kid isn’t yours?” JJ wondered aloud.
Maybe that would unburden him. She knew that either way, Spencer would fight to protect you from the UnSub. But if the kid wasn’t his - he would walk away again, and he wouldn’t have to be hung up on the heartbreak of dealing with his ex just to parent a child together.
“Honestly… I think I’ll be more heartbroken if I find out that he’s not even mine.” Spencer told her, his voice quiet and already lulling with that disappointment.
That was not something JJ had considered. She frowned as she saw the sadness paint across Spencer’s face.
“One thing at a time, alright?”
…
When they pulled into your driveway, Spencer’s mind immediately began churning.
It was a nice house. It was a beautiful, quiet neighborhood. The front yard was clean and trimmed and there was a silver SUV in the driveway with a ‘baby on board’ sticker in the rear window. There was a rocking chair on the porch, but he didn’t see many children’s toys out front on the lawn. He guessed that was a good thing. Letting children play in the front where they could run into the street and potentially get hit by a car was too dangerous. He was glad to already see signs that you were a good mother.
Spencer felt like he was opening up a book halfway, desperately wanting to be filled in on the previous chapters while having missed so much. Still wanting to read ahead and see more.
He had already missed so much of your son’s life. He had missed you. That was something forming the biggest knot in his gut. He had truly missed you. The times he had allowed himself to think of you over these past few years - he had missed you so dearly.
And now the two of you likely had a child together.
Craning his neck to get a better look, desperately trying to take in more information, Spencer’s eyes were wide and hungry as JJ put the car in park by the curb in front of your house. As Spencer reached for the passenger side door handle, JJ’s phone rang.
“I have to take this.” She sighed. “You go ahead.”
She gave Spencer a distinct look that said ‘I know you need a minute alone with Y/N’, and he nodded, stepping out of the vehicle while she greeted whoever was on the other line. He smoothed down his tie - for once in his whole life, he was actually worried about how he looked. Only because he knew that he was going to see you. Perhaps he had only ever felt like this before going on his first date with you.
He had such a strange lashing of emotions going through him as he approached the door. Fear, anxiety, anticipation. Longing.
He truly had tried so hard to lock away his feelings for you when you had left. He had tried to move on. He had considered, briefly, in passing, dating other women. There had been times when someone else caught his eye, and he considered asking her out on a date. Morgan had offered to ‘set him up’. Penelope had offered too, telling him that he deserved to ‘get back out there’.
Whenever she asked about you, his heart freshly cracked open.
At one point, she had advised him to write a long, Shakespearian letter, pouring out his heart to you in an effort to get you back - one which she would mail. (Because of course, she could get your new address in a heartbeat.) But he didn’t want to experience the heartbreak all over again if you ignored him. He didn’t want to sit, waiting by the mailbox every single day like a lost dog, waiting for you to write him back in return.
You had disappeared from his life for a reason. Just like everyone else had. For a long time, Spencer convinced himself that he was simply meant to end up alone.
Perhaps if he had known about your son - a child that could very well be his - then he might have felt differently about getting Penelope to contact you.
But now he was standing at your front door, his fist shaking as he raised his hand to knock.
He let out a sharp breath and steadied himself, giving three swift, firm knocks against the door and then trying to wait patiently. His heart thumped inside of his throat, and it felt like forever.
“Sorry!” Your voice called out from behind the door, muffled. “Sorry, I almost didn’t hear you. I was-”
You cut off your own words as you opened the door - the moment you caught Spencer’s eye and recognized it was him, pure shock fell across your features, and you froze on the spot.
You were just as stunning as ever. You had barely aged at all - your hair was different than the last time he had seen you, of course. And you were dressed casually - wearing a simple hooded sweatshirt with a drawstring and a pair of jeans with some fuzzy slipper boots on. But pale blue looked so good on you.
So much like the pale blue dress you had worn on your first date with him.
You were breath-taking.
“Y/N.” He greeted you, his throat dry already.
You didn’t say anything, simply continuing to stare him down with wide-eyed shock.
Seeing you again, Spencer couldn’t help but to think back to that first date.
The first night that he knew he was in love with you.
…
He had taken you to see the Virginia Symphony Orchestra.
It was Spencer’s idea of a good time - and it ended up being one of the most beautiful, most romantic, most unique first dates that you had ever been on.
It was difficult not to fall for him with the beautiful music in the air and his glossy eyes, so sickeningly thick with affection, staring you down all night.
Afterwards, the two of you stopped to get ice cream at a small shop that was a short walk down from the orchestra. And now you were both enjoying your ice cream as you walked along in the cool night air - enjoying the peace and quiet and the gentle breeze in the darkness.
It was a perfect night.
Spencer could think of no better way to spend it than with you. The yellow bulbs of the street lights practically cast a glow onto your skin, the mulberry lipstick now worn off your lips as you brought the pink spoon to your mouth and licked up your sweet treat.
His stomach was churning with nerves. Joyous nerves.
And as per usual, when he was nervous - he rambled.
“You know, Bach actually married his cousin.” He said, spouting off the first thing that came to mind.
You told him that Bach was one of your favorite composers - it’s why he had thought to bring you to the orchestra on a date in the first place.
“I did not know that.” You giggled. “So what? Was it like a ‘third cousin twice removed’ type situation?”
Spencer found himself grinning at the fact that you actually engaged him in the conversation, rather than staring at him with an odd look for bringing up such a strange topic.
“Not quite.” He replied. “They had the same surname before marriage.”
“Oh, ew.” You chuckled again, giving a shudder at the thought of this.
Spencer knew it was an odd topic to discuss on a date, and if he rambled on too much, it might freak you out - but he couldn’t stop himself. His mouth ran away with him, and he continued.
“He married Maria Barbara Bach, and they had seven children together.” He told you. “His sons, Wilhelm Friedemann and Carl Philipp Emanuel became composers and musicians much like their father, which was actually carrying on a legacy started by Bach’s father himself - who was a seventh generation musician. He was the one who taught Bach the organ from a very young age.”
“Why don’t people play the organ anymore?” You wondered aloud. “Except in churches, I guess. The organ rocks.”
Spencer’s brain began rocketing off at the fact that you had asked him a question. A question he could answer.
“The organ has actually long been associated with divinity.” He replied. “The instrument rose in popularity alongside Catholicism throughout the eighteenth century, and in a sense, that was part of what made Bach a sort of ‘rockstar’ of his time. The religious references in his work, and his mastery of the organ - all of it made him incredibly popular at the time because it caused him to be favored by the church and by royal figures associated with the church.”
Spencer gleamed a large smile, heavily enjoying that he could share these facts with you. He thought for certain that any moment, you would change the subject or imply that he should stop talking. But instead, you engaged the conversation more.
“Religious references?” You questioned, wondering what he meant by this.
“Yes!” Spencer grinned, suddenly very excited by the explanation behind this. “Even in his secular music, Bach would often incorporate the acronym ‘INJ’, a Latin abbreviation that means ‘In Nomine Jesu’, or ‘in the name of Jesus’. It was something he put on all of his manuscripts.”
You grinned back. You found it fascinating that being around Spencer for such short periods of time caused you to learn so many things. It easily made you want to be around him more.
“Interesting.” You replied.
“And his talent on the organ was seen as something that made him ‘divine’ at the time. Divine enough to be worthy of performing for royalty.” Spencer added on. “In 1708, Bach got a position as the court organist in Weimer for Duke Wilhelm. And later when he requested early release from this position, desiring to go work for Prince Leopold of Koethen, the Duke actually had him arrested and put in jail for several weeks in 1716.”
Spencer laughed at this mental image - the composer being put in jail.
“Ooh, harsh.” You sighed. “But I guess Dukes have too much power.”
Spencer let out another bright laugh at this.
“And see, the interesting thing is, Bach later became the conductor of the court orchestra, in which Prince Leopold played.”
“So he got his wish,” You replied with a smile.
“And see-”
Spencer set off on another rant again, and you couldn’t help yourself. You put your spoon into the cup of ice cream and then you used your now free hand to reach out and grab Spencer by his tie - you pulled him toward you before he could get anymore words out, and he let out a shocked, choked-off sound when you pressed your mouth into his.
He sighed gently against your lips, and unconsciously dropped his own melting chocolate cone on the ground by his feet as his limp hands drifted toward your waist. He was dizzy, and now every single fact he had ever known about any composer had vanished from his head. In that moment, standing under a random street lamp on a random sidewalk somewhere - all he knew was the soft, pillowy feeling of your lips and the cool night breeze against his skin.
It was perfect. You were perfect.
You found his intelligence and the enthusiasm with which he spoke to be so utterly irresistible. You had been on so many dates with men before where they had acted like talking about their interests was a chore. Where they had made it seem like the whole thing was simply a routine, waiting for the end of the night so they could get into your pants. And for them, that’s what it probably was.
But Spencer was nothing like that.
He spoke about everything with such intense passion - and you couldn’t resist the urge to try and suck that very passion off his lips.
When you were forced to pull back slightly, your lungs crying out for oxygen, Spencer let out a gentle moan and began puffing out sweet little pants across your chin as he tried to catch his breath. You kept a hold of his tie, wanting to keep him close, and he stayed there, gently pressing his forehead against yours.
“That was… wow.” He sighed.
“I didn’t think I would ever find you at a loss for words, Doctor Reid.” You replied with a giggle.
“Well, I - you - wow.”
It was all he could muster, causing you both to break down into laughter.
Back then - everything had been perfect.
He had no clue where it all went so wrong.
...
Continue reading: Chapter Two - Liar
#sundrop writes#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#dad!spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds x you#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds fic
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You Have a Girlfriend?
So you get a little confused when you’re drunk? So what?
a/n: I saw a goofy little twitter post about this somewhere and ran with it. I’m goofy when I’m drunk, so, honestly? A very plausible scenario.
warnings: Mild language, alcohol consumption.
note: I do not own the character Bucky Barnes or any other Marvel affiliated characters.
You do not have permission to copy, repost, or translate my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and/or reblog.
—
You’re sitting next to Bucky and across from Sam, and you are a little very drunk. The three of you chose to have a drink and talk after a long day of working on the Wilsons’ boat. The issue, however, is that Sam challenged Bucky and yourself to a drinking game, and you were desperately losing.
One thing about you is that when you’re drunk: you feel the need to tell everyone how much you love them. Another thing about you when you’re drunk: your memory sucks.
“Sam,” you whisper yell across the bow of the boat. “Sam. Sam. Sam.”
Sam raises an eyebrow at you when he turns his attention to you.
“I have a secret to tell you! No, two secrets!” You hold out two fingers in front of you.
Sam smirks. “What’s that?”
“One,” you hold up one finger, “I love you; you’re a good friend. Two,” you hold up a second finger, “your friend who’s sitting by me is really, really hot.”
Sam lets out a loud laugh, and you grin at his reaction.
“I love you, too, kid.”
Bucky is smiling fondly at you, watching you with love and adoration. He’s glad he can’t get drunk simply for the ability to take care of you while you let loose.
“I’m really, really hot, huh?” Bucky teases, and he laughs when you nearly get whiplash from turning to look at him.
Your eyes are wide as you stare at him. In your drunken state, you clearly didn’t expect him to hear your admission to Sam. You relax after a second, though, and smile at him.
“Yeah, you are. Y’know, I was wonderin’…” you trail off, getting distracted as you stare into his bright blue eyes. You let out a content sigh as you observe him.
“What were ya wonderin’, Doll?” He lets his hand rest on your thigh, rubbing his hand up and down comfortingly.
“Do you have a girlfriend?” Your question is dead serious. There’s no hesitancy or joke in your voice, and Bucky finds it completely endearing. He chuckles as he stares at you, and you can faintly hear Sam lose his shit. You don’t pull your attention away from Bucky at all, though.
“I do,” Bucky informs you, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing at your reaction.
Your eyes go wide, tears prickle at the corner of them. You swallow and wipe them away before doing your best to come up with a steady voice.
“Is it serious?” You question him.
“Very,” he smiles. “‘m gonna ask her to marry me.”
Generally speaking, Bucky wouldn’t have told you his plans, but he is fairly certain you’re not going to remember this conversation in the morning. And, if you do, he isn’t too concerned because he is so very serious.
You make no effort to hide your disappointment, and you let your tears fall freely this time.
“Oh, okay. She’s so lucky. Does she make you happy?”
“Happier than I’ve ever been.”
“Oh. That’s good.”
You’re obviously upset, and you’re obviously unaware Bucky is talking about you. Sam is trying not to laugh, but his wide grin betrays him. Bucky, however, finds himself more concerned than entertained when you start to actually cry.
“Doll, what’s wrong?” He wipes a tear away with his thumb, softly holding your face.
“No!” You push his hand away, eyes going wide. “You have a girlfriend! She wouldn’t want you touchin’ me!”
He laughs then. He can’t help it. After all, his girlfriend would very much want him to touch you. You always have your hand interlaced with his, or your body snugly tucked into his side, or your hand in his hair, or… The list goes on.
“Hey, don’t laugh.” You frown.
“Sorry, sorry. ‘s just that my girlfriend loves when I touch you.”
Your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion.
“Why would she like for you to touch other women?”
Sam bursts into another round of laughter. He is struggling to breathe as he wordlessly points at the two of you, ignoring Bucky’s glare.
“Oh, Doll, she doesn’t. She hates it, really, and I never pay another dame a lick of attention. She’s the only one I’ve got eyes for.” He kisses your forehead, a form of punctuation to his assurance.
Your critical thinking skills, however, are formally shot.
“You’re lying! You’re paying me attention! And I’m not your girlfriend! What’s your girlfriend’s name? I’ve got to tell her you’re cheating. Girl code.”
Sam loses it again.
“Your girlfriend! You: cheating! Shit!” Sam barely manages to get a thought out. Bucky grins at his friend. He can’t deny that he is just as entertained by your antics.
He pulls out his phone, opening his contacts up to the one labeled “Dollface,” and hands it to you.
“Here,” he says, “call her.”
You nod and take his phone, hitting the call button and holding his cellphone to your ear.
A ringtone fills the night air and you frown when you feel a vibration in your back pocket. Clumsily, you pull your own cellphone out of your pocket and look down at the screen.
“JBB <3 is calling…” appears on your screen along with a candid photo of Bucky laughing.
You stare at it, and Sam and Bucky stare at you. You don’t do anything—don’t say anything, don’t move—until the call goes to voicemail. Finally you look up at Bucky.
“Why’d it call me?”
“Y/N, you’re my girlfriend,” Bucky finally says.
Your face breaks into a wide grin.
“No shit!”
—
“I wasn’t that drunk!” You insist the following morning.
Sam and Bucky exchange a look before laughing.
“Kid,” Sam says once he’s calmed down enough. “You asked Tin-man if he had a girlfriend and cried when he said yes.”
Your eyes go wide as you turn to Bucky for confirmation.
“You did, Doll,” he says, smiling.
You stare for a moment before shrugging and turning back to your coffee in front of you.
“Y’know what? That’s a totally reasonable reaction,” you say, leaning back into Bucky as he situates himself behind you and plants a loving kiss in your hair.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky x reader#marvel x reader#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky barnes x reader fluff#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes fanfiction#bucky barnes x you#bucky x fem!reader#tfatws!bucky x reader#tfatws!bucky x fem!reader#tfatws#tfatws!bucky#marvel#marvel fluff#marvel x you#marvel x y/n
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call me soon — jjk
Jungkook finds himself obsessing over you a bit too much than he'd like to admit, but you two get a chance to see more of each other during a hot summer night where you both are lonely, desperate and horny.
☾ pairing: jungkook x fem!reader
☾ genre: strangers to fwb to lovers, summer break au, university au, smut
☾ word count: 5.9k
☾ warnings: alcohol consumption, mention of driving under the influence of alcohol (jk had one beer okay 🙄 no car crash lol), hello tae and oh — jimin?, hurt and comfort 🧐, mentions of masturbation (m), dry humping, clit stimulation, tits play, praising, unprotected sex & oral sex, blowjob, cum eating, cum play, multiple orgasms, brief overstimulation.
a.n.: i tried something and i think i like it 😼 put y'all seatbelts on because this is the best smut i've ever written 🫡
*no taglist!!
Jungkook knits his eyebrows together, deeply lost in his thoughts. At this point, the music blasting through the house doesn't make his body shake anymore, it doesn't make his heart beat faster nor does it make adrenaline rush through his veins.
He feels the vibrations under his feet, though. It's intense, but not enough to distract him. The pad of his index finger mindlessly circles the neck of the beer bottle he's holding, his other hand shoved in the pocket of his baggy jeans.
His friend's elbow sometimes nudges him in the ribs because of how animated he is when talking, but he doesn't make Jungkook turn his head nonetheless. He hears him laugh and curse while he looks away, gaze lost in the crowd of people, eyes shifting between all the faces without a thought about them.
He's too busy thinking about yesterday, that cursed night where he just wanted to fill up his gas tank and unluckily fell upon you at the gas station.
He thinks he never looked at his phone so many times in a day before, never thought a stupid call would turn him crazy, obsessively scrolling through his contact list to find your name.
Every time the day ended, he worried that maybe you had deleted his number, but your name has always been there. A part of him hoped you would have deleted him from your phone. It would have explained why you never called and then perhaps he would have felt less crazy.
But no. You just didn't bother pressing on his name and sticking your cellphone to your ear, waiting for him to pick up as you listened to his ringtone.
And that's quite a bit worse than being erased from your contact list because that means you just didn't think about him. Not once were your thoughts about Jungkook.
He could be wrong, but he prefers to torture himself.
Anyway, it's not like you were much bothered by the fact that you totally ghosted him back at the convenience store. 'I forgot', how horrible that sounds?
But then, all he wanted to do at this moment was to forgive you, tell you that it doesn't matter, that he doesn't really care, that it's no biggie. He can't blame you and that's so fucking stupid because all he did was eat you out.
Yet he finds himself thinking about you more than he'd like to. He even jerked himself off to you, playing back in his head the moment you were whimpering his name and pulling on his hair, clenching your thighs around him. He's not super proud of that — kind of cringes him a little bit when he thinks about it — but he got really hard imagining your pussy leaking down his knuckles.
You were a good hook-up and yes, he thought it could happen again. He hoped you two would do it a second time, maybe a third — how many you'd like to.
He likes sex and his obsession for you started because of that, but he would lie if he said hanging out with you like friends doesn't sound good to him. It sounds so fucking... nice.
In the end, he knows you two as friends wouldn't work. He works for your dad to pay his scholarship that is incredibly expensive even for a public university.
You, you don't need that. You don't need to work, don't have to lift a finger. You're treated like a princess — have the life of a princess — and you might even think of yourself as a princess too. Fuck him for liking it. Fuck him for fantasizing about possibly being your knight.
"This party fucking sucks."
Jungkook's eyes finally focus on something else than the void, laying on his best friend Taehyung. He doesn't know where he comes from, he only remembers him leaving the kitchen area when everyone was in the depth of a conversation.
"Why's that?" He asks instead of agreeing, knowing he can't really complain when he hasn't been in the mood to party at all.
Taehyung leans his back against the counter beside Jungkook, taking a sip of his soon empty beer bottle. "It just fucking sucks," he shrugs, a scowl on his face as if it's a justifiable reason. It might be because Taehyung's not so difficult to entertain.
It might be because of something else, Jungkook believes, though he doesn't have the heart to ask. He'll do it another time when he won't smell like rejection and when his head won't be filled with a woman's giggles who's out of his league.
So he only hums in agreement, silence installing between him and Taehyung.
A couple of minutes pass, Taehyung has opened another bottle and Jungkook is still quiet. Usually, he doesn't mind slipping in conversations, sharing his own perspective of things. He rarely says no to games, bringing his competitive ass over and crushing everyone's chances of winning.
Today isn't usual, that's why it fucking sucks.
"I'm gonna go get some fresh air," Jungkook says to Taehyung and this one nods.
"I'll probably head home soon anyway."
"Be sure to take an Uber."
"Of course, you know me," he chuckles, waving Jungkook goodbye.
His friend does the same, a slight smile painted on his face as he walks to the front door, opening it and stepping out of the house.
His eyes get used to the darkness as he closes the door behind him. He notices someone sitting on the stairs, typing quickly on the keyboard of their cellphone. He approaches the figure, hearing them sniffing as if they've been crying.
They suddenly drop their phone, muttering a 'fuck' as the device lays on the ground. Jungkook decides to go reach for it so he walks down the stairs and bends to catch it, turning around to hand it to the owner.
"Here." He looks at the person's face and his heart jumps in his chest when he recognizes you. He doesn't know where to look for a second, his eyes shifting down to the screen of your phone.
He catches a glimpse of a conversation with a certain 'Jimin' and immediately looks away, feeling guilty for not minding his business.
You thank him in a tired voice, taking back your iPhone. He stands there uselessly as you seemingly give up on your previous message, turning off your phone's screen with a defeated sigh.
"Is everything okay?" He asks, taking a seat beside you on the stairs.
As you wipe your tears away with the tips of your fingers, he wonders who could have hurt a princess like you. Princesses shouldn't cry. They should be covered in diamonds, not have pearls falling down from their eyes.
He wouldn't have let something like this happen as your knight. He knows for a fact that he would have protected you, and he thinks that whomever is pretending to be your knight right now is doing a really bad job.
"Yeah, I just... shouldn't be here," you respond with a shaky voice, eyes strained down on your feet.
"Where else should you be?"
You turn your head toward him, looking at him like a poor hurt puppy. He doesn't want to compare you to something so defenceless as a puppy, but that's what your eyes tell him. It's not like you're weak, it's more like you've given up on being strong.
"I don't know," you scoff, shaking your head. "Somewhere I belong."
Jungkook thinks he understands what you mean by that. He thinks, but he doesn't know if he really does. It's complicated to relate to someone who's so different from you.
But he wants to try. Relating to someone is not mandatory to be friends, anyway. Nor is it to be in love.
He hums, leaning his forearms on his knees and looking in front of him, watching the night butterflies flying under the dim lights of the street lamps. "Wanna get home?" He proposes, thinking that's maybe where you want to be right now. "I can give you a ride."
Your reddened eyes look up at him and he looks back at you. "No, not home..." You mutter, shaking your head from side to side. "Tomorrow will come too fast," you sigh and break eye-contact, tapping on the screen of your phone to check what hour it is. One a.m..
Is it a coincidence that every time you two are alone the clock indicates one? Should he believe in coincidences or only in the ones that concern you?
"We're already tomorrow," you groan.
Jungkook smiles — he can't help it. "You can't stop the time, baby" he laughs lightly, still staring at you, at your side profile. A blessing to the eyes, a downfall to his heart. "It won't wait for your call to finally start."
You scoff again, this time because you know what he's referring to. "I'm sorry, okay? I'm just bad at relationships... or whatever this is," you apologize, certainly coming out a bit blunter than intended. Blame it on the alcohol in your system.
"It's already forgotten." It isn't, but it may be forgiven. He'll surely have this one on his heart for quite a while, though it won't make him stay away from you. It possibly can't.
You send him a sad smile, having pity for him — or maybe for you — he doesn't know.
"Wanna come to mine, then?" He offers, sporting an innocent smile on his face even though he has no intentions of sharing a cup of tea with you there. Unless that's what you want.
"Where do you live?" You ask, a bit tempted by the proposition. And anyway, you need a place to sleep.
"Downtown," Jungkook replies. "We'll be there in five minutes if we go now," he smirks, trying his hardest to convince you.
It never takes too much to convince you.
"'Kay, let's go," you smile back, biting down on your lip.
·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡
When you entered his apartment, you didn't really pay attention to the decoration, you were rather more bothered by his lips on yours. The moment you stepped foot into his place, his lips were already searching for yours and you didn't refuse him.
So now he's hurriedly leading you to his bedroom, messily kissing you and roaming his hands over the curves of your body. His fingers sometimes get caught under the hem of your dress, making the flimsy material roll up over your plushy thighs.
There's no time to think, no time to ask questions. There's only a need to discover and devour your skin, only a huge desire to finally touch what he hopes will be his one day.
"Oh, be careful," he mumbles against your lips, stopping you from entering his room, his arms wrapped around your waist. "There's a step."
He swiftly lifts you up, his hands placed on the back of your thighs. He can't help but knead them, sinking his fingers into the meaty flesh.
He walks in, making you avoid all the annoying steps to his bed, the covers carelessly thrown everywhere from this morning when he got up. You continue to kiss him, your nails gracing the side of his face as you cradle him in your hands.
Soon enough he lets your back hit the soft surface of his mattress, a soft gasp escaping your lips while he crawls to you, his lips never far away from your hungry ones. He nudges your nose, attempting to connect your mouths together. He does it again and you let him have you, exchanging your saliva like it’s a sweet nectar, him a bee and you a sunflower.
Your hands on his cheeks lower to his neck where you pull on his nair, nails scratching his skin. He groans into the kiss, palming your ass very roughly, fingers sneaking under the hem of your dress.
He has the slight impression that not only your tongues are tangled, but also your souls. Bodies colliding, clashing against each other at the pace of your heartbeat.
His knees dip into the bed on each side of your body, his arms supporting his weight beside your head. He bucks his hips against yours as you quietly moan into his mouth, feeling his growing bulge pressing down on you.
Blood rushes to his cock so fast, it's like his own brain is begging for him to just fuck you. No protection, fucking raw. Make it messy, make it unforgettable, make it so every time you're with a guy other than Jungkook you regret him.
But he takes his time. That's how he learned it; time is what a woman needs, not a prick who wants his dick wet and to get it from behind. As if doggy is a position that can make her cum.
"Fuck, I'm so..." Jungkook breathes out, his forehead laying against yours. His eyelids flutter shut as he swallows to ease his dried throat, opening his eyes again when he begins to speak. "I'm so fucking hard."
"I know," you whisper, glancing down where he grinds his bulge against your clothed pussy. "I feel it."
He groans at that and moves his hips against yours with more insistence, the material of his jeans rubbing against the soft cotton of your panties. You moan at how good it feels to have his hard cock pressing down on your clit, your hands coming down to push on his butt.
"Shit, baby," he hisses, sinking his teeth into his bottom lip. He frowns cutely and looks down too, deciding to raise one of your legs up, making more room for himself. "Do you like that?" He asks, continuing to hump you as if you were both deprived horny teenagers — and he won't lie, he may still act like one sometimes.
He notices a wet patch on your panties just over your core, the area has darkened where your pussy gushes arousal out. "Oh, god- yes, Kook," you moan out, the new position creating more friction.
He almost whines at the nickname, his dick literally twitching happily in his boxers. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, feeling the pace of his heart accelerating, his breath becoming irregular.
He holds your thigh up and he loves how plushy it is, how your skin looks so tender. He'd bite into it, just chew onto it to have a little taste of you.
"You smell so sweet," he states, his hot breath hitting your skin, making goosebumps run all over your skin. He kisses your neck, soft and warm, leaving a wet trail behind.
He rolls his hips against you, his erection now aching, wanting to be inside of you, but he can't seem to think about anything else than your quiet moans gracing his ears and your odour invading his nostrils.
"Jungkook," you whine, scrunching his t-shirt between your fingers, pulling on it desperately as he keeps smooching the skin of your neck.
He understands your silent request and he swiftly gets rid of his t-shirt, throwing it somewhere on his bedroom's floor. Your hands immediately travel his abs and you feel his muscles flexing under your palms.
You then pass your arms around his shoulders, bringing his lips to yours. He moans into the kiss as he keeps rubbing his hard cock against your pussy, but your little pleas make it difficult for him to focus.
He sneaks a hand between your two bodies and you grip on his hair when he reaches your puffy clit, pulsating so hard for him. "Do you want me to touch you there?" He asks in a raspy voice, his big fingers teasing your sensitive bud, his touch familiar at this point. "Hm, princess? Want me to make you feel good?"
He always finds a way to tease you even when his jeans are really tight, his cock so swollen from your dry humping session from seconds ago.
"Yes, please," you breathe out shakily, a moan escaping your mouth when he starts to draw slow, sensual circles on your clit. "Fuck, Kook." You have your mouth agape, letting out sweet moans as his digit presses down on your bud, making the knot in your stomach tighten.
He lowers his fingers to your core, feeling how soaked your panties are. "All wet for me, baby?" He purrs and you nod your head, breathless. "Good girl," he praises, a little smirk crowning his pink lips.
You pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, closing your eyes as you enjoy the pleasure he's giving you. "Faster, please, Jungkook," you beg, his finger stroking your clit sending so many tingles through your body.
So he fastens the pace of his digit, rubbing quick circles on your bud of nerves and he absolutely loves the sight of you bucking your hips against his hand, growing impatient. Your nails sink into his skin, leaving little crescent forms all over his neck. He grits his teeth at the pain, but he'll suffer through it as long as it means you're feeling pleasure.
"Yes, yes," you moan, so close to your high, your mind getting fuzzy. He doesn't stop stimulating your clit, the pad of his finger skillfully circling it over your damp underwear. "I'm gonna cum," you hurriedly say, the muscles of your thighs tensing as soon as the words leave your mouth.
Your orgasm shoots through you and you grab Jungkook's wrist, but he keeps moving his finger to drive you off your high. You tense down, hearing your heart beating in your rib cage, chest heaving rapidly.
You flutter your eyes open and they meet Jungkook's gaze. You look into each other's eyes as you slowly calm down. His hand shifts to hold your waist and you bring him in for another kiss.
You don't wait longer before sliding your panties down your legs, raising your hips up from the mattress and letting the material fall on the ground. He breaks your kiss to see your pussy totally nude, glistening in your juices. He swears it's the sexiest he's ever seen before, so cute and always so fucking wet.
He has the urge to lower down and have a taste. He could never forget your flavour, but he'd pretend to so you let him eat you out for a second time.
Exactly when he's about to devour you, you push on his chest and switch positions with him. He lets you take the top, watching you remove your dress and reveal the most intimate parts of your body to him, naked.
"You're beautiful," he compliments, the most honest he's ever been. His eyes roam over your body, scanning your breasts and your perky nipples pointing at him.
You're a pretty woman, but he wonders if his heart beating faster is really the result of your beauty or perhaps the feelings he might have for you.
"So are you," you smile, giggling when Jungkook's still staring at you with hearts in his eyes.
He's brought back to reality when you place yourself on your stomach between his legs. "What... What are you doing?" He swallows, his big brown eyes settled on you.
"Returning the favour," you respond, passing your finger on his stomach just over the band of his Calvin Klein's that peeks out of his pants. "Would you like that, Kook?"
"Yeah," he mutters under his breath, watching closely the movements of your hands, slowly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling down the zipper. You undress him from his pair of jeans and socks, coming back up to his crotch after.
He parts his legs wider for you and you lay a hand over his bulge, feeling how hard he is just for you. "You're so big, Jungkook..." You say in astonishment, visibly really pleased with his girth.
You palm him over his boxers, closing your hand around him, imagining how it'd be without his underwear on.
"Hm-mh." Jungkook passes his fingers through your hair, making you look up at him. "Think you can handle it, baby?"
You squeeze your grip on him, which results in him hissing. He's really sensitive, especially when he's been sporting a boner for quite a while now.
Though nothing will compare to the time you left him just after he made you cum on his tongue. He sucked it up, but fuck, nobody told him before how complicated it was to drive with an erection. It's really distracting. Luckily, his work was done, so he could go straight home, but still.
He had to jack off in the shower, thinking about you and how your pussy would close around him so tightly.
"I'll try," you smile.
You pull down his boxers, leaving them just below his ass, and his cock springs up, the head slapping down on his stomach. He lets out a sigh of relief, finally free from his briefs.
You wrap your fingers around him, looking so small compared to his penis, and bring him up to your lips. His tip is glistening in his pre-cum and it twitches in your hand, just so happy to see you.
Jungkook hasn't shaved, he didn't expect any of this to happen after all. He hopes you don't mind, but you don't seem to, quite the contrary even.
You start to gently and slowly pump him, passing the pad of your thumb over the little slit, spreading his arousal over his length. You leave a kiss on the head and he wonders if you're not getting revenge for all the times he teased you.
You tilt your head to the side and kiss his length all the way up to finally open your mouth and insert the tip in. Jungkook curses under his breath, taking a handful of your hair in his fist, making your scalp itch.
You keep eye-contact with him as you lower down, gradually taking all of him in the warmth of your mouth. "Fuck, your mouth feels so good around me," he moans, looking at you with lustful eyes. He can't take his eyes off of you, he's literally hypnotized by the way your lips slide so smoothly over his hard cock.
You hum, the sound a bit muffled by his dick in your mouth. Tears start to form in your eyes, throat burning as you get used to his size and the stretch of your mouth.
When you've reached his base, nose touching his pelvis, you gag around him, but manage to make the feeling go away. Jungkook believes he's in heaven right now, having his cock nestled deep in your mouth, some strands of hair falling down in front of your eyes.
You blink several times, trying to see clearer, but the water makes your vision fuzzy. "It's okay, princess," he sighs pleasantly, seeing that you struggle, your throat starting to burn badly. You gag another time and he has to concentrate if he doesn't want to cum right now. "Shit... Don't- don't force yourself," he hisses, pulling your head up.
His cock falls back down on his tummy, hearing a wet slap since he's entirely covered in your saliva. You catch your breath and wipe your lips with the back of your hand, immediately taking him back in your hand.
You stroke him, running your palm up and down his girthy length. You swallow to ease your throat and glance up at him with teary eyes. He pouts, cupping your cheeks and swiping his thumbs under your eyes to get the little pearls away.
"You don't have to take everything... I'm already happy to have you with me," he admits and he hopes his words don't scare you away. You don't know each other for that long, but sometimes he just has to be honest about his feelings.
You smile, nodding your head in response. He moans when you take him back into your mouth, flattening your tongue underneath him. He knits his eyebrows together as you bob your head over him, a hand wrapped around his base.
His short nails dig into your scalp, making you wince, but it doesn't make you stop. Jungkook lets out heavy breaths and moans, his hand gripping your hair and guiding you over his wet cock.
His other hand, his tattooed one, scrunches the bedsheets in his fist, the pleasure too good it becomes overwhelming. His eyes are strained down on you and every time your gazes meet, his heart skips a beat.
It feels too good to be true, yet here you are, pleasuring him like nobody else's ever did. You both like to give and he hopes it won't make sex difficult between you two. Well, if it ever happens again, which he really wishes it will.
"Yeah, just like that," he approves when you hollow your cheeks, continuing to bounce your head over his stiff erection. "Such a good girl," he adds on and loosens his grip on your hair, delicately patting you instead.
You almost purr under all the sweet praises he tells you, loving how he makes you feel confident and proud of yourself. Your free hand is laying on his thighs, sensing his muscles tensing and calming down each time he controls himself to last longer.
But even though he tries his best to not shoot his cum into you right now, your mouth does wonders and his orgasm is approaching really fast.
"I'm not gonna last long, baby," he warns you in a breathy voice. "Shit," he curses, sucking air through his teeth and feeling his balls tightening. Your tongue is so warm and wet, he can't resist you any longer.
You pull out and stroke his length, a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. It breaks as you lick them, fucking Jungkook with your fist. He groans, gritting his teeth, and his grip on the covers tightens, signs that his high is really close now.
He curls his toes, the burning sensation at the pit of his stomach growing. "Holy fuck," he spits out profanities and his cock twitches, hot cum spilling out from his red, swollen tip.
You moan with him, turned on by the sight of him releasing himself on your hand. He throws his head back and closes his eyes, all of his muscles flexing as you milk him dry.
"Oh, god, Kook," you coo, lazily stroking his cock and caressing his thigh to make him relax. "There's so much," you comment, literally amazed.
Jungkook opens his eyes and looks down at his crotch, seeing your hand still wrapped around him completely covered in his cum. He bites down on his lip at the view, even more aroused when you bring your fingers up to your mouth and lick the remains.
"Shit, you fucking minx," he says, but there's no intention to insult you, he's just so down bad for you.
It makes you giggle, encouraging you to do something even nastier. You sit on your knees and spread his cum on your tits, circling your nipples with your fingers.
Jungkook smiles, his affection for you growing, and takes a hold of your jaw, pulling you in for a long, sloppy kiss. You moan into his mouth, his cock brushing against your pussy, still hard and ready to wreck you.
"You have no idea what I want to do to you," he groans, looking into your eyes like they are the whole galaxy, endless so he can lose himself in them.
"Do what you need to do to me," you allow, offering yourself to him and more if he desires to.
When those words leave your mouth, he picks you up and gets up from his bed, your legs locked behind his back. You gasp when he pins you against the nearest wall, placing your arms around his large shoulders, holding onto him tightly.
"You sure? Because we're only done when I say so," he breathes onto your face, his forehead against yours, bangs slightly damp from his sweat.
"One-hundred percent sure," you grin, but lose your smile as soon as he pushes his cock into your pussy, ripping a loud moan out of you.
Your nails dig into the skin of his back to give him some of the pain he's inflicting to you by penetrating you with his big cock. He holds you up against him, his hands on your ass, touching you so sensually and lovingly, appreciating every part of your body.
He sinks his dick into your pussy, sliding in so easily without any restraint, cunt absolutely soaking wet. "God, pussy's so fucking tight," he rasps out, finally bottoming out into you. His balls touch your ass, his pelvis flushed against yours, meaning he's completely in.
You whine, feeling absolutely full, pussy clenching helplessly around him. Jungkook doesn't wait — he can't anymore — and starts pounding into you, his balls slapping against your skin. The room smells like sex, it's strong and quite obvious, but he easily ignores it, he practically can't even smell it.
He slides his cock in and out of your pussy, making you moan sweetly, a beautiful melody to his ears. He doesn't hold himself back and fucks you hard against the wall, but you're nowhere near against it, you're loving it.
Your boobs jiggle on your chest because of Jungkook's harsh thrusts, both of your skins glistening under the light of his bedroom, covered in a thin layer of sweat.
"I'm so full, Kook," you moan softly and he can't look away from you, finding you so pretty and sexy.
"Yeah? Full of my big cock, baby?" He asks, darting out his tongue to wet his dried lips, passing over his piercings.
"Yes," you cry, breaking eye-contact as you close your eyes, head rolling back and hitting the wall behind you.
His hips are powerful, never missing a beat and brushing over your sweet spot repeatedly. Your pussy has adjusted to the size of his girth, some of your wetness dripping down to your butt and coating his balls that slap against you.
He pushes some of his cum into you as well, the rest you haven't licked off your fingers or spread on your tits. He still can't believe you did that, but god, did he find it hot. He never thought you playing with his cum would turn him on so much. He sure will think about this moment when he's going to be alone with himself.
His eyes shift down to your bouncing breasts and he has to put one in his mouth, even if it means tasting a bit of himself too.
He catches one nipple with lips, wrapping them around your hardened bud. You moan his name and pull on the hair at the nape of his neck, pushing his head down toward your chest.
It sends more tingles to your belly, your walls closing around him tightly. He lets out a grunt, knowing his orgasm will come close if you continue clenching around him as if you want to suck him up.
"Jungkook!" You exclaim when he turns you both around, walking back to his bed. He lays your back down on the mattress, still in you, and continues his assault, snapping his hips against yours.
He pushes up your thighs over your stomach, getting a better view and access to your pussy. "Take my cock, baby. Be a good girl for me," he says, completely obsessed with you and your cunt. If you weren't made for you, he doesn't know how he'll trust life again.
Putting you on his way just to get rid of you... No, if you're not his, you're nobody else's and if he's not yours, then he doesn't know what life is fucking worth.
"Yes, yes, Jungkook," you confirm in a moan, or maybe your brain is too mushy to find something else to answer.
You place two fingers on each side of your hole where Jungkook keeps pounding in, watching his cock entering and exiting your sloppy cunt. You pull on your pussy lips, feeling the knot at the pitch of your stomach tightening again, a more intense orgasm waiting for you.
You bring a finger to your clit and begin to draw fast circles on it, impatient to feel the burning and euphoric sensation of your upcoming orgasm. Jungkook moans at the sight, making him more desperate to reach his high as well.
"Shit, close, princess?" He questions and you nod repeatedly, humming in agreement. "Me too..." He states, breathless and chest heaving rapidly.
He's tired, but somehow he still has the energy to fuck you. Honestly, fucking you might be the only thing he'll never get tired of, that's for sure. It's so addicting, so good, he simply can't get enough.
"Please, please, Kook. Faster," you beg, even though he's already going at a quick pace that will probably leave the skin of your thighs sore and bruised.
You stroke your clit from side to side and he pounds you so hard it makes you dizzy and kind of drunk off the hormones you're both releasing.
He hits your magic spot multiple times, eliciting loud moans of pleasure out of you, your eyes rolling back. "Yes, like that," you cry, the last thing you say before your thighs start shaking.
Your back lifts up from the mattress when your orgasm hits you, passing through you like a tsunami, leaving you out of breath. Your pussy clenches around Jungkook and he's so close, too.
He drives his cock into you, making you whine in overstimulation, and he feels the familiar burning sensation in his stomach. "Oh, fuck, baby," he moans and slips out of you rapidly, jerking himself off just over your quivering pussy. "Gonna cum."
With a last thrust of his hand, he cums on your cunt, making a dirty mess on you. You moan when ropes of white cum land on your pussy, dribbling down to your hole and ass.
Finally, little beads spurt out of his cock, falling on your sex. You collect some on your fingers, pushing them in you and Jungkook watches with lazy eyes, slowly pumping his cock to drive off his high.
He picks you up and places you both side by side on the bed, recovering from the heated session of sex you just experienced. He lies on his back while you're cuddled up to his side, one hand on his chest.
He turns his head in your direction and you're already smiling at him, drawing little forms on his stomach, following the lines of his abs. "Was good," you whisper.
"Yeah," Jungkook agrees, frowning slightly, wondering if maybe, potentially you share the same feelings as him.
The next morning, you dress yourself back up, having taken a fresh shower while Jungkook was still sleeping. He watches you putting back on your dress, his arms crossed behind his head.
When you're done, you spin around and face him. "What about..." You begin, a playful smile gracing your lips. "You call me soon?"
He looks at you, taking a moment to answer, just admiring the happiness you radiate. He compares your mood of when he's found you sitting on the stairs at the party to the one of this morning and he tells himself that you're feeling better because of him.
If you can both make each other happy, he doesn't see why you two can't work — as friends or more, it doesn't matter as long as he's the reason why you have a smile on your face.
"Sure."
·˚ ༘♡ ·˚ ♡
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part 1: call me later ☼
part 2: call me soon ☾
part 3: call me tomorrow ☼
#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#bts smut#bts x reader#bts imagines#bts scenarios#jungkook fic#jungkook imagines#jungkook fanfic#jungkook smut#jungkook scenarios#jungkook x reader#jungkook fanfiction
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𝐀 𝐊𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧
𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you love your boyfriend really you do, but you also love cats…and a little kitten managed to steal your attention away from you very clingy lando..
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: no warnings just fluffy
𝐚/𝐧: this was self indulgent, i just wanted fluff and idk i feel so shitty and nasty about myself and i needed fluffy lando goodness
Off season was in full swing which meant you and Lando were back in London together for a few weeks before you took off on your travel adventures. It was nice to have some quality time with your favourite boy in the world, and the first thing on your list was groceries.
Lando as usual let you do the shopping as he dotted on you, his hand in yours, on your waist or wrapped around you as you reached for your favourite cereal
“Lan you really aren’t being much help..”
“Mhm I am.”
“So you wrapping yourself around me like a koala is helping?”
He smiled into your neck, leaving a few kisses to your collarbone
“Exactly”
“Can you at least put your arms to use and grab our cereal before you continue to squeeze me into pieces?”
You shook your head, your voice teasing as he unwrapped himself from you, reaching up and grabbing two boxes before dropping them in the kart. Letting you continue your way down the aisle, Lando of course attached back to you as you checked off your list and made your way up to check out.
Once everything was payed for and bagged you made your way to the car, putting everything in trunk of Lando’s range rover, not without a few kisses to your cheek and of course a very Lando like squeeze to your butt.
“There, now we can stop ordering take out”
“I like our takeout nights..”
Turning to see the pout on your boyfriends face you smiled, your arms wrapping around his neck as you leaned up to kiss him
“I know but now we have fresh and healthy things so I can get back to cooking…we can still have takeout on Friday’s how about that?”
Lando thought about it before nodding
“Deal, I love you”
“I love y-kitten!!”
Your arms quickly dropped making the british driver frown, moving to walk slowly towards the little grey kitten just perched next to the car beside you. It’s little eyes watching you carefully as you kneeled down
“Oh hi my love…come here it’s okay..”
The kitten moved towards you at the sound of your voice, of course keeping it soft as to not scare it away
“Hi little one”
Lando watched with a frown as you scooped up the little cat, clearly feeling a little pouty that you ditched him for the cat
“Lan look at it! It’s so small and cute!!”
“No way.”
You looked at him, your puppy dog eyes coming into effect
“Absolutely not angel, no WAY”
“But-but Lan look at him, we can’t just leave him here he’s so little!”
Lando was close to breaking, even you could see it.
“Baby we are always away, we don’t have time for a cat…”
He was right to some degree, but you were often home more than him, and worst case you could find a sitter for the cat. Your brain had begun to find a solution for every possible problem Lando could come to with.
“Please…oh lan please we-I can’t leave him here..I promise i’ll make sure I take the best care of him…”
Lando would admit the grey fluff ball was cute, and that look you had on your face was pretty sweet too, how could he say no to you, especially when you looked so happy
“Alright fine”
“Thank you thank you thank you baby!!!”
Cradling the kitten in your arms you leaned forward to press a kiss to his lips, his arms wrapping around you as he held onto you tightly
“Next thing you know I’ll be the crazy cat dad like Max”
“Max has two cats love..”
“He’s still crazy..”
Shaking your head at Lando’s dramatics you kissed him once more before walking towards your car, your new little family member happy in your arms, sound asleep. A kitten distraction is what Lando would call it, but if you’re happy, he’s happy, even if he’s starting to realize he needs to share your attention.
And he’s just not sure he’s ready to do that…
#rueswrites#ruesanswers#ruesanons<3#ruesasks#rueschats💗#lando norris drabble#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris fluff#lando norris blurb#lando norris x fem!reader#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x reader#lando norris fanfic#formula 1 masterlist#formula 1 blurb#formula 1 fanfiction#formula 1 fanfic#f1 drabble#f1 imagine#f1 fic#f1 fanfic
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hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)
and got an idea based off of it
what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)
A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.
Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)
Pairing: Alastor x Reader
Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.
Word Count: 1,971
Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)
Master Lists:
Master Lists
Hazbin Hotel Master List
When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.
When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.
As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.
Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.
Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.
Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.
Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.
Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.
Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.
"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.
He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.
"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."
The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.
"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.
"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"
Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.
"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."
"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"
Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.
"So, what's your name?"
The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.
"Y/n."
There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.
"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."
Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.
"Alastor?"
It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.
"It really is you... isn't it."
Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.
"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.
The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.
"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."
Y/n laughed tearfully.
"Me too."
"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"
"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."
"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"
Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.
"Are you jealous?"
Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.
"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.
"Y/n."
"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."
"So tell me."
Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.
"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"
Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.
"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."
Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.
"You're married!?"
"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"
"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.
"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"
He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.
"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."
"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.
Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.
"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."
Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.
"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."
"Oh hush you."
"Make me."
Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.
"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"
"With pleasure."
Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.
"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.
"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."
"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."
"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."
----
Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3
#x reader#hazbin hotel#hazbin alastor#alastor#hazbin hotel alastor#alastor the radio demon#alastor hazbin hotel#alastor x reader#radio demon#radio demon x you#radio demon x reader#the radio demon#alastor x y/n#alastor x you#wife!reader#Alastor x wife!reader#hazbin hotel x reader#hazbin#x reader requests#x reader fanfic#requested#request#requests#x reader oneshot#x reader one shot#request one shot#one shot#oneshot#part two#cover up
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mark lee + domestic
♫ play love it by dean...
waking up on a late morning besides mark who, in his sleep, is subconsciously pressing his soft, pouted lips against your neck or shoulder, nose nuzzling into your warmed skin. he still hasn't woken up, which you realize when those same pouty lips part to let out a series of long and calm exhales. he rolls a little closer to you until minutes later, he eventually blinks his puffy eyelids open, smacking his mouth a few times like a baby does when first stirring awake.
it's too soon to wish you a good morning—he doesn't truly trust his voice to not betray him yet; instead, when your eyes meet for the first time today, the corner of his lips instinctively curve up into a dazed smile, and the hand that rests on your hip gives your flesh a little squeeze in a silent but sweet greeting.
cooking any meal consists of you moving around the kitchen as you gather and assemble your ingredients. meanwhile, mark follows you around, curiously and eagerly. he resembles a puppy trailing behind you. also has a habit of resting his chin on your head or shoulder to watch what you're doing; that, or he's leaning against the nearest structure whenever you linger for too long in a specific area. you're by the sink? he's bent over, resting his weight on his elbows to talk to you. you're at the stove? his hip is pressed into the counter and his arms are crossed, watching intently how you prepare the food.
after, he'll gladly do the dishes (since he isn't much help with the cooking part). the sole condition he insists on is that you have to sit on the countertop beside him and keep him company 'til he's done. he also gets to steal a kiss whenever he pleases, molding his lips over yours for a few seconds too long. he laughs when you scold him for getting distracted or wasting water, then mumbles his apology into your mouth, "m'sorry, baby! s'just hard to focus when you're here, sitting pretty for me,"
chores are usually left for the weekend, where the two of you take turns picking songs and adding them to a never-ending queue to get through the tasks at hand. the two of you are rather good at getting things done quickly, but the moment you plant a kiss on mark's cheek as you pass by, consider your work done for the day, regardless of whether you've finished or not.
you don't make it farther than a foot away before mark has dropped the rag he's holding in order to grab ahold of your waist. he dips his head down and kisses your lips so messily, longingly even, since the last kiss you gave him was not sufficient by any means. then again, he can never really get enough of you. mere moments later, you're pressed up against the wall with each of his hands at your hip bones, the tasks at hand long forgotten as his tongue eagerly explores your mouth.
its easy to get distracted with him, by him. grocery runs tend to be at least an hour longer than they really need to, because despite the fact that you've made a list of 5 simple items, the two of you navigate every aisle anyway and leave with a dozen other things. browsing for shows or movies turns into a conversation about actors and directors and soundtracks, and you never actually get around to picking something. if you do, the content is left unattended by you and mark, who giggle and mutter out jokes between the dialogue to get a smile out of the other, blazing touches left behind on warm skin.
you're undoubtedly his favorite person in the entire world—the one he looks forward to seeing at the start and end of each day, and the one he always tells good news to first. bad news, too. crashes through the front door and drops everything to bid you a warm hello as he rambles on about his day, or comes in and curls up next to you on the couch and expresses his recent frustrations. regardless of whether you give advice or just listen, your presence is soothing enough.
#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct x reader#nct fanfic#nct#nct reactions#nct moodboard#nct 127#nct dream#mark#mark fluff#mark x reader#mark lee#nct dream imagines#nct dream reactions#nct dream x reader#mark lee fluff#mark lee x reader#mark lee imagines#mark imagines#mark icons#mark nct#nct mark#nct mark x reader#nct mark lee#nct mark scenarios#nct mark fluff#nct 127 imagines
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MINORS DNI 18+
Showering with RAFE CAMERON always seems promising. The potential to be intensely romantic, stuck in a close and steamy location completely naked, washing and massaging each other, watching his dick physically fill out at the sight of your soapy tits. Instead, it’s cut and dry. Practically formal as he focuses on getting in and out. While he’s in the shower, he’s got a routine, a list of things he needs to complete and they have to be in order. The last thing he wants is a distraction, and he purely allows you in during his private shower time because “You’re like a dog, you know? You’ve got like… separation anxiety or something.”
Nevertheless you enjoy it. You listen to him when he directs you away from the faucet for his turn, you get a front row seat to how he scrubs shampoo into his hair and the suds run down his contracting muscles, sometimes he even lets you cling onto him. You wrap your arms around his waist as he rinses his conditioner, soapy bodies sliding against one another as you stamp your cheek onto his chest. Hot water runs down, warming the two of you as you share the faucet, and the remnants of slippery conditioner form a film on your skin.
What’s even rarer is when he’s in an uncharacteristically frisky mood during it. For the most part, showering is a utility, no room for fun. But a variation can be seen from time to time, taking advantage of his good mood. You can tell he wants it when he swats your little ass as you walk in, eyeing it up as it ripples from the impact, growling at the sight of it. He follows in right after you, keeping close behind you as you enter the stall, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t go first, he lets you do as you please, dunking your head under the spray to wet your hair, and he rubs circles into your hips. Brain— usually running wild with his extensive to-do list— is now empty, save for the image of fucking you right now, bouncing your ass on his cock. All he’d have to do is bend you down with a splayed hand on your back, give his dick a few yanks, and tuck it inside, he knows you’re slick enough. And if you’re not, getting fucked like he owns you will certainly do the trick.
“Rafe?” you call, snapping him out of trance but not freeing him of his dirty thoughts, drawing his lower lip between his teeth as he keeps his eyes on the curves of your backside. He hums, and you nod to yourself, having to keep your eyes closed to protect them from the shampoo that trails down your forehead. “You wanna rinse?” you ask politely, realizing how long you’ve been under the faucet for.
“Nah, baby, do what you need to do. Y’look damn good doing it.” Another swat to your ass deepens the blush of his handprint from earlier, and you squeak. “Fuck.” You wet your hair again, washing the suds down so you can see, but he’s already decided what he’s going to do to you. Big hand slots in between your legs, stooping to reach as his fingertips scoop, and brush your clit. You jolt from the sensitivity, unconsciously lifting your leg with a tilt of your hips to accommodate him. His middle finger passes through your slit, witnessing the moisture that’s already accumulated there. A little feigned gasp sounds behind you. “Princess, you’re so wet.” he murmurs the observation, like you expected something like this to happen. You brace against the tile, and try to look over your shoulder at him. “Can’t be walkin’ around like this acting like I’m not going crazy over here.” He chases your cunt as you squirm, using your slick to rub circles into your bud. That hand clamped on your hip yanks you back, controlling your escape from him as he mercilessly swipes at your clit. It makes your legs shake.
Only when your overcompensating pussy drips pre-cum down your thighs does he let up with driving your clit insane, diving two fingers into your hole without hesitation. You cry out, clawing at wall as your tits press into that cold tile. To get a better angle, he wedges his wrist in the crook of your ass cheeks, watching them jiggle as he sets the pace, slamming his fingers in to the hilt. Even though the shower’s running, he can still hear your cunt make music for him as he fucks it with his fingers.
#indy: drabbles#ch: rafe#1k#rafe cameron drabble#rafe smut#rafe cameron smut#rafe x reader#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron x female reader#rafe x you#rafe cameron x you#rafe x y/n#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe imagine#rafe cameron imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fic#rafe fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfiction#outer banks rafe#rafe outer banks#rafe cameron x reader smut#rafe cameron x you smut#rafe cameron x y/n smut#reader insert
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
✧.* CHAPTER 5 || The Date
[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?
[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language & heavy sexual tension. You might feel edged by the end of this chapter. !!Geto is a complete pervert btw!!
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 3.5k
[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.
[ [ chapters mlist } ]
——INSIDE THE LAVISH RESTAURANT that Geto Suguru assures you isn't as expensive as it seems, the two of you are escorted to an awfully private booth.
It's off in the corner, away from everyone else within the restaurant as specifically requested by your date. Your surroundings are dimly lit, with a romantic ambiance that sets the perfect mood for the evening.
Geto pulls your chair out for you and you sit, briefly thanking him for the small gesture as you do so. For a second, as he pushes your chair in and makes his way to the other side of the table, you wonder if you'll have to go on dates like this with the other men you meet. If Geto is considered medium difficulty according to Gojo, what'll happen when you reach someone who's at a higher difficulty level?
Will you have to win a fraction of their heart to sleep with them? Will you have to date them? Shit, you don't want to toy with anyone's emotions. You really hope you'll be able to pull this all off.
Lost in your thoughts, you don't notice Geto's eyes all over you. He's thinking too, wondering how he should go about messing with you. The man is just as amused as Gojo was with the little challenge you've been given.
Geto wonders if he should drag this out. Maybe a few days, y'know, force you to get to know him more and more. Problem is, even as he looks at you now, he knows damn well that's not going to happen. He wonders if you even realize the effect you have on others without doing anything.
When you first entered the restaurant, Geto noticed that the host had his eyes all over you. The man has been gawking at you as you and Geto were led off to your table but you didn't notice.
A little smirk plays on Geto's lips as he admires you. You're now pretending to look over the menu but he can tell you're still panicking from his earlier words. His eyes dip down to the exposed areas of your skin and he scoffs. If you were his girlfriend, the two of you wouldn't have even made it to the elevator.
Surly he would've turned you right back around and had his way with you without a care in the world for reservations. The male's focus goes to your lips, studying the slight pout you make while you think every now and then.
Like earlier, his mind drifts into places they shouldn't. Your lips look so soft, so delicate, so... kissable. He wonders how the inside of your mouth feels.
How good are you with your tongue? Fuck, the thought alone makes his hips lift as he shifts around in his seat. He needs to stop thinking about you like this. He needs a distraction so he tries to look down at the menu on the table in front of him.
That doesn't work either. Geto isn't craving anything on this damn menu. The very thing he wants to feast on is sitting across the table from him. His eyes flick up to you and instead of looking at your face, he looks at your cleavage-- mentally cursing at himself for his perverted thoughts and glances.
God, even looking at you is torture.
"Suguru," You suddenly call out.
The man flinches at the sound of his name and frantically redirects his gaze upward. "Hm?" He hums in response.
"Y'know I can feel you staring at me, right?" You say to him teasingly.
Truth be told, you've been calming yourself this whole time. Gojo told you Geto was of medium difficulty and if you're interpreting this correctly then, that means you've already got the man attracted to you, all that's left for you to do is to get him to warm up to you. You have to attempt to treat Geto like you know he's going to sleep with you because-- well, you do know.
With the way he was touching you, talking to you, and looking at you now, you could tell you had this in the bag. It just took a few minutes of you gathering yourself before you worked up the confidence to say something to him.
"So?" Geto asks, feeling tense to the way you've noticed his ogling.
You flip the menu up so that his view is obstructed, "So, it's rude to stare. Especially at my tits... pervert." You reply, though, you're words were harmless and he could tell you were teasing him.
Geto suddenly choked on air, "What'd you just call me?"
"A perv." You say cooly.
Due to the menu held up between the two of you, neither of you saw each other's expressions. You've got a cheeky grin on your face, thinking you've managed to fluster him while a slow smirk spreads across Geto's lips.
"A perv?" He repeats, followed by a cocky scoff. Geto's mouth moves on its own and he doesn't even know what came over him as he speaks.
"Darling, if I was a pervert I would've had you in this restaurant with no panties on while explaining the eight different positions I've fantasized fucking you in." He blurts out in a shockingly low tone before leaning over the table a little, "I'd have you on your knees begging for me to touch you right now."
Heat rushes to both your face and in between your legs, causing you to rub your thighs together slightly. Your grip on the menu slips a little but you try to keep your composure.
Dropping your voice to a whisper, you drop the item in your hand and meet the man's all-too-serious gaze. You mimic his motions and lean forward a bit too, "You do realize we're in public... right? Anyone could've heard you just now..."
Geto flashes you a sexy smile, "Keep teasin' me and everyone will hear you moaning my name in a second."
You scoff, waves of confidence shooting through you out of nowhere. "Yeah? What're you gonna do, fuck me over the table?" You whisper-shout to him.
"I might." He hums.
The look in your eyes is full of disbelief. "You wouldn't."
"I would, actually."
"Do it then." You utter challengingly, knowing damn well he doesn't have the balls to actually-
He chuckles deeply, leaning back in his chair and parting his thighs. You notice him shift in his seat, hips once again raising as he moves. "Come bend over in front of me and see what happens." Geto challenges back.
The sexual tension between you and him is at a ridiculous all-time high. You stare at him and he stares back at you.
After a few seconds, Geto clicks his tongue and tips his head to the side, "Well?"
You roll your eyes at him and sit back in your seat, "Never mind."
"That's what the hell I thought." He says confidently, "You'll never be able to win that kinda' contest against me, sweets. I'm a man of my word."
"Seeing as I'm not getting fucked over this table right now, I'm pretty sure that was all just a bluff." You reply. You're still not sure where all this confidence of yours is coming from but the man across the table from you is dangerously attracted to it so, you're trying to drag this out.
"I told you to bend over, you told me never mind." He shrugs.
"Maybe I wanted you to bend me over." You say with emphasis in your voice.
He stares blankly for a minute. Then he laughs, "You... You think I won't do it."
"No, I know you won't-"
Geto pushes his chair back and stands to his feet.
You're throat immediately runs dry. Is it too late to say that maybe you should've shut up a while ago...?
He walks around the table to you and suddenly pulls your chair out. "Y-You're not seriously gonna-"
"Stand up." Geto cuts off.
You peer up at the man, eyes full of worry. Slowly, you raise to your feet and your face comes close with his. Quickly glancing past him, you spot the waitress for your table helping a group of people not too far away. You're pretty sure she's gonna head this way once she's done so your mouth opens to back out of whatever Geto's about to do.
"Suguru, I-"
"Aht aht, none of that. You shouldn't have started this." He interrupts. Geto then moves a hand behind you and your heart sinks to your toes. Again, the table you're at is quite secluded so the only thing others would be able to see currently is Geto standing in front of you.
You flinch when he suddenly grabs a handful of your ass, your eyes frantically switching back and forth between him and the waitress who's set to approach the two of you any minute now. Geto pulls your body up against his and your hands rest on his chest due to the aggressive tug of your body.
You don't even know what to say at first as you feel the male hike up the back of your dress and slip your underwear down off you. "A-Are you fucking crazy?" You whisper shout to him with furrowed brows.
"You're about to find out." He hums simply.
Your undergarment now pools around your ankle and Geto is quick to drop down and work them completely off you. You shift around to pull your dress down, making sure you don't look crazy. The pounding of your heart was so loud that you could feel it in your ears and you're confused and thankful that no one has or can witness what just happened.
Looking up at you, Geto smiles as he wraps his fingers around the fabric in his hands. Then, he shoves the item into his pocket and stands back up. "You can sit now, I don't plan on giving everyone here a show just yet."
You grit your teeth. You're so embarrassed that you don't think you can move. Did you really just let him do that to you? Why? Because it was kinda thrilling and you wanted to see how far he'd really go? Maybe...
"Yet?" You repeat as you finally sit down, feeling exposed for a second before you cross your legs.
Geto casually walks back to his seat and sits as though nothing happened. "I meant what I said."
This time you don't argue with him-- you truly don't know what he'll do next.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
With perfect timing, the waitress approaches your table and takes your orders. You took a second to even remember what the hell you had your eyes on but you figured it out after relooking over the menu. Your heart is still throbbing against your chest and you still can believe no one saw anything that just happened.
You know the table is pretty secluded but you expected someone to see something. Geto knew what he was doing though. Hell, he's all innocent and smiling all lovey-dovey-like at you as the two of you place your orders.
The second the woman had gone off to get your food, you and Geto met eyes.
"So, tell me something... If not for this date, what was your plan for me?" The man asks, breaking the silence.
You glance off to the side. "I didn't have one. I was just gonna meet you and figure things out as I go."
He chuckles, "And how'd that end up working out for ya'?"
"Well, given the fact that I'm sitting in a restaurant with no underwear on," You send him a glare with a fake smile, "Wonderful." You say with sarcasm.
He moves to reach for the item in question, soon pulling it out of his pocket and holding it up so that only you can see it. "Want em' back?" Geto asks tauntingly.
You send him a scowl, one he finds ridiculously sexy. Pissing you off is kinda fun. The fabric in his hand is shifted around a bit and he begins to inspect the item, the sight bringing a deep blush to your face and a rush of embarrassment over you.
"Fucking pervert." You curse, this time genuinely bothered.
A lazy smile spread across Geto's overly attractive face, "I can show you something perverted..."
You're glare at him continues. "Is this how you planned on spending the entire night? By taunting and teasing me?" You ask genuinely.
Geto scoffs at your words, "I'm pretty sure you started this, baby."
"I..." Damn, he's got you there. You did start this sexual flirting vibe with him.
But what else were you supposed to do? Your goal is to fuck him.
"Don't be mad that you can't handle my actions or the words that come out of my mouth." He continues while mocking you with a chuckle. He just finds you oh so amusing.
"Well, I wasn't expecting you to be such a perv..." You murmur.
"Satoru didn't tell you that part, huh?"
"No. No he did not." You say, annoyed with the man who really is to blame for all this.
Geto leans forward and rests his elbows on the table, moving to hold your undergarment with one finger and dangling it in front of his face. "I can only imagine how embarrassed you must feel right now." Actually, he could see it.
He's watching the way your eyes widen at him displaying your underwear so openly, the way you look around the area to see if anyone knows what he's doing, and the way you're clearly panicking.
"Can you just put them away already... Taunting me with that is just... weird." You tell the man.
"Yeah? What if I told you what I wanted to do with them?" He asks in return.
Your curiosity piqued and you raised a brow. "What you want to do with them...?" You repeat as you grow confused.
"I wanna wrap em' around my cock. Y'know use it to jerk off." Geto says so casually that you grow awfully concerned if he has any sense of care for being in public.
"You... can get off on that kinda thing?" You question blindly.
He shuts his eyes and inhales a deep breath, "Fuck yes."
"...I'm not one to kink shame but... why is that pleasurable? It's just my underwear...."
He laughs at your cluelessness before finally putting the item away. "The fact that it was pressed against that wet cunt of yours for hours makes my dick throb," Geto utters both filthyly and shamelessly.
Your thighs rub together a bit and a strange wave of arousal thrums through you. "O-Oh..." You chirp.
"I told you, don't be mad that you can't handle what comes out my mouth." He sighs.
You put your hands over your face and sigh, "You're worse than Satoru," You whisper to yourself.
That makes Geto laugh again, "Am I?"
"Yes." You sigh dramatically.
Though, you're not sure if that's true. After all, Gojo did jerk off right in front of you with no shame whatsoever...
"Would you believe me if I said that everything I've said so far is only to tease you?" Geto questions.
You blink. "Meaning...?"
"The real thing will be much worse."
You feel intrigued so you lean in, "How so?"
He smirks, he's got you exactly where he wants you. "I could make you cum without even laying a finger on you," Geto informs you, cockiness embedded into his tone.
You scoff and fold your arms at him, "Why don't you put your money where your mouth is and prove it?"
"Right now?" He hums with a tilt of his head.
A gulp is heard from you. "N-Not now, idiot. We're still in public."
"I feel like by now you should know, I don't care if we're in public. That won't stop me from doing or saying anything." Geto says.
"So you're into voyeurism?" You ask in a monotone.
He scoffs, "Exhibitionism is the word you're looking for but yes, that too. Isn't it obvious?"
"Slut."
Geto snickers, "I'm into that too, gorgeous."
"You like being degraded?"
"I don't mind it." He admits with a shrug. "I have a long list of kinks that I'm not sure you want to get into right now."
"Maybe I do." You hum.
Why are you still testing this man? You don't know. Maybe you like his reactions. Maybe something about his responses gives you this churn in your stomach. Maybe you want to keep pushing his buttons until you can't anymore...
Geto leans back and looks up at the ceiling, "Why does this woman continue to tempt me?" He asks as if he's speaking to some higher power. Looking back down to you, "I'd rather show you my kinks. Explaining is boring." He says.
You respond with a nod and after what feels like an eternity, the waitress is spotted approaching your table with your orders in hand.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
After the food, things got worse.
Like, much worse than you could've imagined.
You know Geto said he was a man of his word but fuck is he insane. He was not, in fact, lying when he said he could make you cum without touching you.
He proves that later on in the night, long after the date is over and you've made it back to his apartment.
Geto Suguru has a filthy mouth. He'd break down in innate detail on how exactly he plans on fucking you before actually doing it, leaving your brain all mushy at the imagination alone.
But of course, this was only possible because of the things that led up to it.
After the two of you ate, getting from the dinner table and to an Uber was no easy feat. Especially not with Geto in your ear explaining his fantasies to you.
He told you how he thought about renting out the restaurant for the night just to lay you out on the table and dive nose-deep into your pussy-- not a single word filtered. Geto said into your ear that part of him wanted you bouncing on his cock right there at the table. He wanted people to hear and see the mess he'd make of you.
"God the things I wanna do to you," He uttered desperately into your ear.
By now, you were both back in a vehicle, this time on your way home with him.
Geto smiles against the crown of your ear, "Even right now, if not for the diver, you'd be on my cock right now."
His voice is so low, so seductive, ensuring that only you hear him. You're constantly rubbing your thighs together, still lacking underwear to catch the liquids of arousal seeping from your cunt.
Geto suddenly places a hand high up on your thigh, "Spread your legs f'me, really quickly."
You let out a breath of air you weren't aware you'd been holding. "W-Why...?"
"Wanna' check something." He murmurs. You slowly part your thighs and Geto moves to swat two of his thick fingers against your sex. "Mmmh... you're wet..." He whispers as if he isn't aware of the effect his words have on you.
Your legs shut around his hand and Geto drops his head to your shoulder with a chuckle. "What happened to all those little comebacks of yours?" He questions.
"I ran out," You say snarkily.
"Good." Geto hums, raising his hand from in between your legs.
He then grabs a light hold of your face and forces you to look at him. "Cause' if you didn't," The man moves two fingers to your lips and slips them into your mouth. "I'd have to shut you up eventually." He whispers softly.
Your brows furrow at the feeling of his fingers pushing into your mouth but almost reflexively, you suck on his digits gently. The bulge that's been straining against the fabric of Geto's pants for a while now, throbs at the sight and feeling of you.
His cock is just leaking with precum right now, leaving an embarrassing wet spot on his boxers. So badly does he want to get home as quickly as possible and fuck the hell out of you. Your constant words and challenges have had the man erect for a while now.
Hell, maybe he was turned on from the second he laid eyes on you.
He presses down on the back of your tongue and you choke a little-- not that you try to stop his actions at all, leading to him biting his lip. "Satoru told me about you but damn, you really are a slut." Geto purrs.
You hum around his skin but don't stop your sucking motions, leading the man to let a groan leave his lips before finally pulling his hand from you. He couldn't take it anymore. Geto was seconds, literal seconds away from flipping you over and having his way with you.
Luckily for both of you, the driver finally arrived at the apartment and neither of you would have to wait much longer.
GOJO SATORU ✔︎
GETO SUGURU ☐
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#the f*ck list#the fuck list#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jjk x y/n#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen x you#gojo x reader#choso x reader#toji x reader#nanami x reader#sukuna x reader#naoya x reader#geto x reader#gojo satoru x reader#geto suguru x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#sukuna ryomen x reader#nanami kento x reader#choso kamo x reader#smut fic#jjk smut#gojo smut#geto smut#choso smut#toji smut
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spit in my mouth while you turn me out
✮ suguru’s girls master list
,, suguru x fem!reader , smut , mirror sex , stomach bulge + he presses/rubs it , spitting (in ur mouth) , squirting , crying + slight dacryphilia , “daddy” is used once + use of pet names i don’t care to add rn , unprotected
“cryin’ mama? can’t take this dick?” suguru heaves out, giving a breathy chuckle when he gains your eager nods in return. you were sat prettily on his lap in front of your big mirror that reflected half of your bedroom, engulfing his dick while he bounced you up and down, along with forcing you to admire your messy state.
“f-feelin’ it so deep sugu..” you bite your lip, tears forming as he only seems to get more turned on by your words. suguru plants his feet on the ground, holding your hips steadily up before bringing you down all in one go. “suguru!” “shh, shh. poor baby, jus’ wanna know where it hurts.” suguru coos, bringing a hand up to your chin and turning your face to the mirror. his dark hair brushes your sweaty skin, head tucked in your neck as he locks eyes with you in the mirror.
“where ya feelin’ me at, pretty?” he hums, grabbing your hand and interlocking it with his, rubbing your belly. you sniffle, his words getting into your head and making you fall into that sweet little head space full of him. his dark regal cologne mustering up in your senses and his soothing voice that could command you without a doubt. “here.” you move your conjoined hands right below your belly button, “right here daddy..” you mumble, and you swear you can feel the thick muscle inside you twitch.
suguru groans, “mhm, right here baby? gotta check..” kissing the side of your neck and lightly pressing the area of his bulge in your tummy, making your head fall back on his shoulder, looking up at his perfectly structured face with blurry eyes, “w-wait! that feels weird..” you whimper. but suguru doesn’t listen, instead pulling you further closer to get a good view of your sloppy cunt and the way it flutters with each touch and rub.
“just let it happen sweetheart. gonna feel good mama, c’mere.” suguru sighs in content, bringing a hand up to your neck and making you face him. “cute ass. cryin’ as much as this pussy is.” he mutters, making you tuck your lips out in a tiny pout, to which he mocks with one of his own. “open yer mouth f’me sweets.” and before you can obey, his thumb is running over your bottom lip, pulling the flesh and moving to hold your chin right. you’re so distracted by the way his eyes look down at you, the intimate position of being held in such away makes your mind go blank, which leads to the feeling traveling down to your pussy, clenching around him.
suguru’s throat bobbles, a thick glob of spit falling flat on your tongue just as he presses his dick in your tummy hard enough to make you close your eyes in pleasure. he watches all the shocks of your body happen in amusement. noticing the way you clearly would’ve stated your distaste but too caught up in the way his tip rubbed so deliciously against your walls, squirming and whining on his lap as you feel something release from you suddenly. and it feels so good, making your body tremble and your nails dig into the skin of his thighs. “aw look at you, makin’ a mess n’ squirtin’ on me. must’ve tasted good huh? heh.”
#jjk x reader#jujustu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x fem!reader#jujustu kaisen#jjk smut#jjk x you#jujustsu kaisen x reader#jjk x y/n#suguru geto smut#getosuguru#geto suguru smut#geto suguru x reader#suguru geto#geto smut#getou suguru x reader#geto x reader#jjk geto#geto suguru#jjk x reader smut#jjk x fem! reader#jjk x black reader#geto x black y/n#suguru smut#suguru x reader#jujutsu kaisen suguru#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujustu kaisen smut#geto suguru x you
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✧.* 𝐒𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐘𝐒 | 𝐒𝐄𝐗𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃
જ⁀➴ your best friends get a hint of how sexually frustrated you are and offer their help
: ̗̀➛ nsfw, smut, teasing, making out, nicknames, cheating with Tom, fingering, oral on female, p in v unprotected, nipple sucking
「 ✦ Mattheo, Tom, Theodore, Enzo, Draco, Pansy ✦ 」
Mattheo:
❥ It didn‘t took him long to notice something‘s wrong. You two sit together in potions, currently making a new potion. Normally you two would laugh and banter all the time, teasing each other but you were so quiet today and didn‘t even look at him
❥ "Y/n, is everything alright?" he asks and puts his hand on your shoulder, drawing a little whine from you. His eyebrows knitted and he took a step back, scanning you whole. He just then noticed your flushed cheeks, flustered expression, your thighs pressed together and your bottom lip between your teeth. You were turned on.
❥ He wanted to test his theory a little and started to prepare the ingredients for the potion in front of you two. He flexed his arms a little, knowing you liked his hands because you once told him when you two were drunk. He saw your hungry gaze at his hands, making him smile to himself.
❥ "Here, chop up the root. Can you do that for me, doll?" He softly breathed against your face, coming dangerous close to you. The nickname gave you visible shiver‘s, just feeding right into his ego. He had a crush on you since forever but never actually had the balls to tell you.
❥ After class was over and you guys were free he pulled you with him to his dorm. "M-mattheo what are you doing?" you wondered but followed him. He closed the door behind you and grabbed you by your hips, pushing you against the door. A gasp left your lips and you looked at him like a deer in the lights.
❥ "Care to tell me why you‘re so .. on edge?" Thats when you finally let everything out. You broke up with your boyfriend and the reason was simple: He couldn't fuck. Mattheo had to hold back a laugh at your outburst of emotions. "It's not funny! It's so frustrating you can't even imagine!"
❥ "Want me to help you? You know.. like a best friend would." he offers you with a smug smirk on his face. You thought he was joking until he had you trembling and shaking under him. He hit every corner and touched every part of your skin that was untouched by your ex-boyfriend. "What are friends for huh?" he moaned when you clenched around him, your nails digging into his back when your orgasm came nearer. Let's just say, you never ever had to fear bad sex again.
Tom Riddle:
❥ You and your best friend Tom sat together in the library when no one was there anymore, thank‘s to Tom‘s charm and good reputation. It all started with your leg bouncing the whole time until Tom send you an annoyed glare which made you stop immediately.
❥ But it continued with your sighing. It got so distracting that at one point Tom slapped his book down onto the table so hard that you flinched. "Please tell me why you‘re sighing like a hurt puppy the whole damn time."
❥ You really considered telling him but you were kind of shy when talking about things like that. On top if that Tom already hated your boyfriend and you didn‘t want to give him another reason to add to the list. "Nothing, just.. tired."
❥ Tired my ass was what Tom thought. He knew you were lying so he had to try a different way. It didn‘t took him long to get inside your head with his new found skill ' Legilimency'
❥ "He told you what?!" Tom suddenly shouts at you. "What?" you asked him confused. "He told you that when you asked him for some foreplay?" He didn‘t even tried to hide the fact that he read your mind. "Tom! Stop going through my head all the damn time!" "Did he seriously tell you it‘s not worth the time?"
❥ He scoffs when you tell him the whole thing that happened with your boyfriend. "No wonder you‘re that sexually frustrated." "Excuse me?" "Come on. All the sighing and leg bouncing the whole time? Your body needs release." He said in a monotone voice like he talked about the weather. "Well – it‘s not that easy Tom." "It is. Let me help you."
❥ Since he could read your mind it made no sense to even try and deny the excitement that went through your body at his offer. He had you laying all spread out for him on the library desk in front of him. Books and notes all over the place and even floor. Your skirt got pushed up to your stomach and his fingers skillfully played with your throbbing clit.
❥ "Look at that. How could this not be worth anyone‘s time hm?" Tom muttered while sucking on your nipples, switching every minute between them while pumping his fingers in and out of you, his thumb circling your clit until you came around his digits. And that waw just the beginning of a whole night of foreplay.
Theodore Nott:
❥ That‘s exactly how your best friend looks at you when he overhears you talking to Pansy, telling her, you haven‘t slept with someone in so long that you would do abything for dick now. Obviously it was a joke. But obviously Theo wouldn’t be Theo If he didn‘t already formed a plan in his head.
❥ Teasing was the keyword. And patience. Theo‘s plan was to tease you little by little over days to get a reaction out of you.
❥ First day he brushed past you every here and there with his hips pushing slightly against you and his hands on your hips. It made your whole head spin and you tried to calm down, seeing him smiling at you innocently.
❥ The second day was just as simple. The whole day he whispered into your ear, laughing, joking, asking things about the class you two were having right now. And with every whisper he brushed his lips against your ear lobe or shell, his warm breath hitting your skin and leaving goosebumps behind.
❥ On the third day he got a bit bolder. When you started bouncing your leg or fidgeting with your fingers, he would put his hand on your thigh. High. He said "It‘s to calm you down a little bit cara mia." His big hands squeezing your flesh and his fingers stroking your desperate skin.
❥ Day four you and all your friends sat in the common room on the couch by the fireplace. You sat next to Theo of course, sharing a blanket since it‘s cold due the late night. At some point he had you leaning against his chest with his arms around you. While you lazily listened to Draco telling ya‘ll a story, Theo‘s finger started to dance over your slighty exposed skin on your stomach. Your shirt mist have rosen up a little under the blanket. You sucked in a breath, trying not to melt right there in front of everyone.
❥ Day five and six were the hardest because he completely neglected you. He talked to you but never stood beside you or sat next to you in class or lunch. It drove you literally crazy. Why would he do this to you? He didn‘t even hug you. But you also couldn‘t ask him because how would that sound? 'Hey Theo why don‘t you touch me anymore?' No thanks.
❥ Day seven was when you actually broke. "Theo, we need to talk, please." You practically dragged him away from the rest of your friends to your‘s and Pansy‘s room. "How can I help you principessa?" he asked with a smug smile on his face. "Touch me." was all you blurted out. He raised his eyebrows and looked surprised at you. "What?" "Touch me Theo, please. I - I can‘t concentrate anymore when you‘re not near me."
❥ Well – what was supposed to be innocent touching and stroking, ended with you on your belly on your bed with Theo behind you, pounding his cock into your pussy. "Everytime from now on that you feel like this, you come to me, capito?"
Lorenzo Berkshire:
❥ You and Enzo were best friends since you could remember. You two have gone through everything together. Break-up‘s, first heartbreak, fighting with parents, puberty, seeing each other naked by accident, literally everything.
❥ You two were so close that nobody even questioned it when you were cuddling under a blanket in the common room late at night while your friends talked about how unfair the quidditch game today was.
❥ "Did you use that peach-shampoo again?" he whispered into your ear when you layed down on his chest and your hair was right under his nose. You looked up at him and nodded with a smile, knowing it was his favorite. He sighs when he inhales it and wraps his arms around you, his fingers playing with the hem of your little crop top.
❥ Enzo was so concentrated at sonething Theodore told the group, that he didn‘t notice how he started to play with the top of her skirt, his fingers gliding under it so innocently. When you noticed you stopped breathing for a second, glanzing up at your best friend who didn‘t seem to notice what he was doing.
❥ At first it was okay but after ten more minutes, you felt yourself getting restless in his arms and shifted every now and then in his lap. You felt yourself get slowly turned on from his little touch. With his second hand he started to stroke your thigh mindlessly, not realizing how your cheeks started to get red and your pussy wet. You pressed your lips together.
❥ Then it happened. Your hips grinded against his lap out of the pleasure and desperation you felt. He froze immediately and stopped moving his hands and fingers. He gulped and looked down at you, your heavy eyes already looking up at him when you grinded against him again boldly.
❥ He swallowed down a moan when your ass grinded against his crotch. "What are you doing baby?" The nickname send shivers down your spine together with his raspy voice against your ear. "I think – I think I need out friendship to go to the next level." You breathed out. You saw him biting his lips when his hands startet moving again. One hand continueing massaging your thigh while the other slipped down into your underwear and went straight to your slick folds.
❥ "Shit you‘re soaked." he breathed when he dipped his finger into your wet pussy, teasing your throbbing clit. Your hips bucked up and you tried to be as quiete as possible so your friends around you wouldn‘t notice. Right when you were about to come around his fingers, he pulled them away, your eyes going wide.
❥ You glared up at him with a desperate look in your eyes and rosy cheeks. He licked his fingers clean when no one watched and smirked down at you. "Don‘t worry baby, you‘re gonna come around something way bigger."
Draco Malfoy:
❥ "Draco?" "Yes, y/n?" You currently were in his room at the malfoy manor due holiday‘s and since his parents really liked you – good reputation and behavior, pure blood family and a lot of money – they never had a problem with you over. The complete opposite was the case. They often hoped you two would be more than best friends some day.
❥ "Can you remember when you told me you would do anything for me?" You asked him with your voice cute and hopeful. "No.. but go on." You roll your eyes at his answer but go on like he said.
❥ "Well, there is something that you could do for me that I think you would enjoy too." you said carefully. His eyebrows rose up and he looked at you curious now. "Oh yeah and what would that be, doll?" That‘s the nickname he used on you everytime you asked him for a favor.
❥ Now or never, right? "I - I want you.. tofuckme." His eyes go wide and his jaw fell to the floor. "What did you just say?" he asks slowly, not sure If he understood right. "I said Iwantyoutofuckme." He stood up and walked over to you, grabbing you by your chin. "Y/n.. tell me slowly what you said or I swear – " "I want you to fuck me, Draco."
❥ His lips crashed into yours just a second later, pushing you down on his bed. You kissed him vack, more confused than he was. "Are you- aren‘t you gonna ask why I want this so suddenly?" you gasp when he starts sucking on your neck and his fingers already opening your jeans.
❥ "Fuck no, you can tell me afterwards. I don‘t care." he breathes before he throws all of your clothes all over his room and fucks you into his mattress for the whole night.
❥ After you two were done he pulled you against his chest, still breathing heavily. "And? What was the reason?" he asked out of breath. "Well uh – I broke up with Colin. He just couldn‘t make me happy in and outside the bedroom so .. I wanted to ask you to help me since ai felt so.. worked up." He chuckled deeply and pulled you even closer. "Told you he‘s a loser.." you roll your eyes at his comment. "You‘re mine bow, hope you know that."
Pansy Parkinson:
❥ "Pansy, can I ask you something?" you asked your best friend. You two shared a dorm together and sat currently in front of the tv you had bought for the two if you. Her new favorite show "baby" was playing. It was a italian show and she loved learning new languages. "Of course, what‘s wrong?" "Why has something to be wrong?" "Y/n.. you never ask to ask something.. only when something is wrong."
❥ You had to smile a little at her answer and rolled your eyes playfully. "Since you‘re sleeping with boys and girls.. I wanted to ask you.. do you enjoy going down on girls?" Pansy looks at you surprised. "Why are you asking me that? This isn‘t coming from no where."
❥ I sigh and look at my hands. "Uhm – Brody said he doesn‘t like it and it .. freaks him out." I tell her what my boyfriend told me. Her eyes go wide and she almost shouts at me, "He said what?!" "Can you please just answer me Pansy?"
❥ She sighs and looks at my fidgety hands. "Of course I enjoy it and what kind of man is he that he says something like that to you?" "Is it possible that maybe it‘s.. me? That something is wrong with me and not him? Maybe it looks weird or-" "Y/n stop. I promise you nothing is wrong with you love."
❥ "But you can‘t know that Pans.." "Do you want to try?" Now you are the one who looks at her in shock. "You would ?" "Yeah but only If you‘re comfortable with it of course. I know that you only have been with boys." Your cheeks heated up a little at the thought of doing something so intimate with your best friend. You two have talked about that one time and Pansy knew how open you were to trying it someday with a woman too.
❥ Let‘s just say from there on you never questioned yourself again. "Pansy I - that‘s do good." You let out a whinper, your habds going through her hair. "Hmm such a pretty girl. You‘re doing so good love." She praised you, smiling to herself. She would have a lot of fun with you in the future.
let me know If you liked it 🫶🏻 and sorry if pansy‘s part is so short but i ran out of time, ideas and i never wrote for her before 🤍
taglist: @justarandomcanadiantransdude @helendeath @thatonepansexual2000 @imabee-oralizard @supernaturaldawning @cardi-bre91 @sofa-couch26 @little-miss-naill @kolsangel @auxcordlawd @itsarajr @jolly4holly @hisparentsgallerryy @slytherinscreamqueen @mixvchelle @littlemadamred @ummmmmmm-username @jeannie-beannie @belle-blue @beautywine @sagetakami @simp-for-fantasy @whyamireadingthis
My masterlist and taglist 🤍
xoxo sarah <3
#slytherin boys#slytherin boys headcanons#slytherin boys smut#slytherin boys imagine#mattheo riddle#mattheo riddle smut#mattheo riddle headcanon#mattheo riddle imagine#mattheo riddle one shot#tom riddle#tom riddle one shot#tom riddle smut#tom riddle headcanon#tom riddle imagine#theodore nott#theodore nott smut#theodore nott oneshot#theodore nott imagine#theodore nott headcanons#lorenzo berkshire one shot#lorenzo berkshire smut#lorenzo berkshire headcanon#lorenzo berkshire imagine#lorenzo berkshire#draco malfoy#draco malfoy smut#draco malfoy headcanon#draco malfoy one shot#draco malfoy imagine#pansy parkinson
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Bodies.
7.8k, raider!Joel x f!reader
reader has no physical description, pics are for mood
raider master | playlists: raider, sweet pea (smut)
SUMMARY: Uninvited guests make a nice evening devolve into disaster, but when they're gone, Joel takes a big step 💋
A/N: follows Hunger. Ty to this ask about flirting; arm anon; @gracieispunk for the B/W pic; @xdaddysprincessxx, @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog, and others who've discussed his name, @javier-penas-wifexx420 for asks, @milla-frenchy for listening, everyone for your patience and support. @toxicfics for notifications, @toxicrecs for fic recs.
WARNINGS: I8+ canon typical violence, tension, possessive/aggressive reader, angst, self-harm scare, references to skin carving scars, hurt/comfort, Joel is a little grumpy, exhibitionism, grinding, dacryphilia, leather choker, bj with ball sucking, unsafe P in V, creampie, obsessive unhealthy toxic dynamic, Joel can hold reader, reader can hang onto Joel.
Raider POV of smut.
The dog has stuck around for more than 24 hours now. He's a good dog. He’s working on a duck foot while you, Joel, and Carter eat by the fire. The evening air is cool but mild. The sky is clear.
Joel and his men spent most of the day working on the van and looking for parts. The dog sat with you while you read a book. You made a wildflower crown and put it around the dog’s neck. When one of the men walked in your direction on his way to the woods, the dog jumped in front of you and growled. Joel looked impressed.
-
Now the fire is keeping you toasty as the sky fades from blue to black.
“Tommy!” you call out to the dog to see if he reacts.
Carter chokes on his food, but quickly recovers. His eyes are wide.
“What’d you say?” Joel asks, ominously quiet. When you don’t respond, he reaches over to gently turn your head toward him. The look on his face makes your stomach turn.
“I thought you’d like that one since it’s a type of gun,” you explain.
“No.” He shakes his head, “I don't like it.” He lets go of your face. “Namin’ the goddamn dog,” he grumbles under his breath. He puts down his plate and stands up.
You’re afraid to ask, but when Joel silently walks off toward the woods, you look at Carter. He asks, “He tell ya anything about his family? His brother?”
Your face is hot and your tummy feels dizzy. “He said he didn’t have any family.”
Carter raises his eyebrows, then he's quiet for a moment and stares at the ground. His face becomes studious.
“What,” you ask.
“Ain't my place,” Carter looks down apologetically.
A few seconds later, watching your face, Carter adds the obvious: “I wouldn't go there.”
"Yeah," you whisper. Anything about his family. The question weighs on you. You really don't know Joel, do you?
Carter changes the subject. “He’ll come around on the dog.”
You perk up. “You think?”
Carter nods, then adds, “Sorry ‘bout Daisy,” squinting solemnly.
“Thanks,” you nod, then can’t resist asking, “Joel wasn’t. . .married, was he?”
Carter shakes his head and doesn’t elaborate. At least there’s that. But still. His family.
You're unsettled, and you try to distract yourself with other dog names, mentally going through a list. Bullet. Clover. Duck. Joel doesn’t have to know he has a name.
Apparently, Carter is thinking about the same thing. He tries to cheer you up. “Gun names, huh? Pistol, Rifle--”
“--Rifle??” You crack a smile.
“Hey, there's no bad ideas,” Carter laughs, and you giggle.
“What about Bullet–”
“--Shh,” Carter nods toward the tree line. Joel is on his way back.
As you finish eating, Carter tries to make small talk with Joel to break the tension. Joel doesn't say much. You ask Carter how he makes his jerky, and he walks you through it. It doesn't sound hard. You could probably do it yourself.
—--Carter—--
The three of you are sitting outside by the fire after dinner. You’re on Joel’s knee, and Joel slides his hand up your dress a little bit. Carter averts his eyes and watches the dog work on his duck foot, making happy little growls and wagging his tail. Hard to say whether you and Joel are about to go inside and fuck, or if Joel’s just copping a feel like he does twenty times a day.
You have Joel wrapped around your finger, and you don’t even know it. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never been like this before. You wouldn’t know Joel’s never made a girl his in the years Carter’s known him. Joel’s always been a man of focus. He’s always been a tough guy. He’s always had a temper, but at this point, he’d tear a man to shreds just for looking at you wrong. It’s scary, and it’s a lot of mess to clean up. Carter’s seen Joel do some crazy shit, but never as crazy as turning one of his own men into a scarecrow for an off-hand comment. Carter knows Joel better than anyone, and it’s clear to him that Joel is crazy about you.
The dog drops the duck foot, growls and barks, then takes off and runs toward the back of the trailer. You get off Joel’s knee to go after the dog, and Joel’s arm around your middle stops you. As Carter stands up and puts on his rifle, a high-pitched shriek comes from behind the trailer. Joel grabs his rifle off the log, and Carter says, “it’s cool,” holding his hand out. He won’t hesitate to yell if he needs Joel. “Go inside, sweet pea,” Joel tells you. You take your time going.
Carter goes around the back of the trailer and trains his rifle on two figures cresting the hill. The dog has stopped short of them and is keeping his distance, but he’s still barking and looks ready to pounce, like he’s holding himself back.
“DON’T MOVE,” Carter booms, then keeps his rifle fixed on the pair and slowly approaches them. When Carter reaches the dog, the dog’s barking fades into a low growl.
They drop their backpacks and put their hands up.
“What’re ya doin’ here?” Carter asks.
The woman clears her throat and follows it with a demure smile. “Went huntin’, came back ’n our house was taken.”
Carter nods and looks back and forth between the two of them. They’re both decent looking. Some resemblance, maybe siblings.
“What do y’all want,” Carter asks, then spits over his shoulder.
“Nothin’,” the man claims. “Just cuttin’ through on our way to the road.” His eyes pan down Carter’s shoulders and arms. Carter squares his shoulders and adjusts his grip on the gun.
Carter nods hesitantly. “Can ya hang tight for me? Don’t want ya walkin’ into gunfire.”
They nod in agreement with a hint of fear. They shouldn’t be trouble. They aren’t carrying much.
Carter walks backwards for a few slow steps, then nods and turns around toward the trailer. Carter sees you spying in the kitchen window and gives you a reassuring nod as he goes around the trailer to talk to Joel.
-
"They're alright, I think," Carter tells Joel.
"What do they want," Joel grumbles.
"Nothin'. . . Cuttin' through on their way to the road."
Joel nods.
“Lost their house, didn’t say who took it.”
Joel’s brow furrows and he nods. “Armed?”
“Not heavily,” Carter answers.
“Bring’em around. Let’s find out who took their house.”
“You got it,” Carter says.
—---- 🌸you 🌸 —---
You move to the window facing the yard and the fire pit with logs around it. As they walk around the trailer, you overhear that they’ve been traveling most of the day. When they stop by the fire, you wait a few minutes, thinking they’ll leave. Then they take a seat, and the woman sits on the log next to Joel’s, on the end of the log closest to him. Your chest tightens. When she smiles at him, you scoff out loud to yourself. You start to go out the front door, then stop and go to the bathroom. You look in the mirror and open the flannel. You run your finger over the faint, healed letters on your skin, and you leave your chest exposed. You adjust your thigh holster, then go outside.
When the door opens, Carter looks over his shoulder and announces, “There she is.”
Joel introduces you. “This is, uh. . .”
“Jill,” she pipes in.
“Ron,” the man nods at you.
A couple. They must be a couple. They look a little alike, but not enough to be siblings. Joel leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees, hands clasped, connecting with your eyes for a moment, sharing something near a smile before his eyes fade back to serious.
Joel doesn’t make room for you in his lap, but he doesn’t tell you to go back inside either. He looks alert and on guard. There are four logs and five of you. You sit on Joel’s log and feel satisfied when he doesn’t scoot toward Jill to make more room. He doesn’t mind you being right up against him. Carter’s on the log to your left. Jill talks about their house and what was going on when they got back from their hunting trip. Ron is quieter. He glances at Carter a few times. Jill keeps looking at Joel. She talks too much.
Jill says they saw Infected behind the trailer park. Joel and Carter look at each other. Your stomach twists, but you study her face, and you don’t trust her. Attention. She wants attention. She wants Joel’s attention. Joel is better than Ron – bigger, stronger, better looking. There were no Infected. She’s making it up for attention.
Everyone is quiet for what feels like a full minute. You look her dead in the eye and break the silence with a soft, matter-of-fact, “No you didn’t.” Joel gives you a cautionary look, and you add, “We would’ve seen'em. We were there yesterday.”
Jill raises her eyebrows, bemused. “Just one,” she admits with a little smile. “My brother took care of it.” She nods to Ron, and the fact that they’re siblings makes you hate her.
“Where,” Joel asks flatly. You wish he wouldn’t speak to her at all.
“Woods behind the junkyard,” she answers. “Thought ya’d wanna know,” she shrugs. It’s quiet again. Nothing but the fire crackling and the dog growling happily.
“Thanks,” Carter mumbles.
Jill’s gaze lingers on Joel. She seems pleased with herself. Joel looks away, sits back, and crosses his arms. Now she’s checking out his arms as they bulge out with his hands under them. Your heart races. Anger simmers under your ribs.
"Bet ya could handle anything that comes over that hill," she purrs at Joel. Your nostrils flare. Your eyes are glued to her. You don’t blink. She looks at Joel’s pants and wets her lips. Your heart skips a beat. It feels like a personal attack. You pop up from the log.
Joel makes room in his lap and looks at you as he replies, "Carter here could handle'em, too,” with a nod to his left.
Joel must have expected you to sit on his knee like you were before they showed up. He clears his throat as it becomes clear you’re going to fully straddle him. His nose twitches and his eyes sparkle. He puts his arms around you loosely. His hands rest on your back to help you balance. You scoot closer and he helps you settle in so your crotch rests on his. Your head is in the crook of his neck, facing toward Jill to keep an eye on her. It doesn’t take long for a familiar bulge to twitch under you.
Your arms are around Joel. Your hand runs over the handgun in the back of his pants, and he tenses.
Jill has the nerve to speak again. “That can’t be comfortable,” she laughs.
“You can’t be serious,” you snap back.
“Shhhh,” Joel whispers into your hair. “‘S’okay, baby.”
“I’m comfortable,” you tell Joel.
“I know, sweet pea.” He nuzzles his nose at the top of your ear. “‘s’okay, baby,” he whispers. You rock your hips into him, feeling him grow harder. He pulls you tight, adjusting your weight. He moves one hand to your thigh. You grind yourself into him and he lets out a little “mm.”
“Um, okay,” she mumbles in disgust.
You snarl and turn your head away from her, back toward Joel. Then you turn your head toward Carter. Carter is absentmindedly examining the bite on his hand. Ron is spaced out, watching Carter’s face. Then, his eyes fall down to Carter’s lap.
“You’re bit,” Jill announces. “Ron, he’s bit!”
Ron snaps out of his daze, sits up self-consciously, and when his eyes fall on Carter’s hand, his face hardens.
Carter protests, “It’s not–”
“--It was the dog,” your head snaps back toward Jill. “It doesn’t look anything like Infected.” She just wants attention. She wants drama.
“It was the dog,” Joel repeats, unamused. It sounds like a warning. Joel’s hand on your thigh nudges the gun loose from your holster. Your hand wraps around the handle of the gun in the back of Joel’s pants.
“Lemme see it,” Ron demands. He stands up and points his gun at Carter. He snarls with a look of disgust. His face has completely transformed since a moment ago.
“SIT DOWN,” Joel booms and grabs the gun out of your holster.
Carter starts to offer, “I’ll show-”
“No ya won’t,” Joel snaps as he stands up with you still wrapped around him. Joel points the gun at Ron. “Come into my yard, orderin’ us around?” Joel’s deep voice vibrates in your ear, then he whispers, “Go inside,” as he tries to let you down. You take the gun out of the back of his pants. “Inside, now.” You put your feet on the ground.
“Nobody owns this land,” Ron laughs.
“C’mon, man, y’all know how it works,” Carter seems to try to de-escalate. “Show some respect.”
You slowly, carefully recede into the shadows, but you don’t go inside.
Jill points her gun at Carter and demands, “Show us.” With everyone else’s eyes fixed tensely on each other, you can approach her from behind, undetected. Two guns are pointed at Carter and one at Ron. Carter reaches for his rifle, and Ron braces his own gun with both hands. Ron cocks the hammer, and you quietly approach Jill from behind.
Ron adjusts his finger on the trigger, and Joel shoots him in the head. Jill screams.
It all happens in an instant: You lunge forward, tackling her to the ground, making her drop her gun. You could shoot her in the head, but something makes you toss your gun aside. You can't stop yourself from putting your hands around her throat. She claws at your chest and breasts. She slaps you, and it stings. You elbow her in the face, keeping one hand on her neck. She keeps clawing at you. “Stupid whore,” she spits.
“I'm only his,” you snap back. She laughs. “And he’s mine,” you pant and put your palm over her face, covering as much of it as you can, putting all your weight on her. Before she can bite you, Joel’s massive hands are firm around your arms, pulling you off. You resist, and he wraps an arm around your middle.
“‘S’okay,” he repeats as he pulls you off, and lifts you into standing. “Go inside.”
You hesitate and he firmly adds, “Now. I'll handle this.” He gives you a look that says he means it. Then he turns his attention to Jill. She coughs as you walk away. She whimpers and plays up how injured she is. Pathetic.
“Hey,” Joel’s voice softens for her. “You’ll be alright,” he tells her. You glance back and he’s what? He’s straddling her. He has his hands on her face. Is he . . .stroking her hair? You can’t see well enough. Your chest burns, and you start to turn around completely, wanting to approach them.
But Carter whispers, “C’mon, let’s go,” and gently takes your elbow.
Maybe it’s for the best. You walk with Carter in a daze. Maybe you were seeing things. No, Joel is comforting her. Your Joel is straddling and comforting the woman who just slapped you and called you a whore.
“It's okay,” Joel reassures Jill again, then you hear the loud crack of her neck snapping.
You feel a lot of things. Joy, relief, guilt–not for being happy, but for doubting Joel.
Carter opens the trailer door and you go inside.
-
For a few minutes, you just sit at the table. Your relief at Jill’s demise quickly fades when you realize she died thinking Joel liked her. Joel acting sweet with her even for a few seconds was more than she deserved.
Now you can't calm down. All your muscles are tense. You start to cry, then you go to get a glass of water. Your hand is shaking and you can hardly hold the glass. You want to throw it, but you put it down, still empty, on the counter. You take a deep breath, bury your mouth in your shoulder, then scream as loud as you can, until you're out of air and your throat is sore. You cough and spit over the sink, nauseous from the effort. Then you slump down onto the kitchen floor in tears.
Almost as soon as you hit the floor, the front door opens. It's not Joel, it's Carter.
“What happened?” Carter rushes over to you.
“Where's Joel?”
“Haulin’ a body.”
“Which body? Don't let him touch her!”
He looks at you, stunned for a second, then says, “Not hers.”
“You promise?” you try to choke back tears.
“God damn, you're both losin’ it,” Carter mutters to himself. Then he hesitantly reaches for your shoulder. “Shhh, it's okay.”
You lunge toward him on your knees and let yourself fall onto his chest. He looks over his shoulder then hesitantly hugs you. “Okay,” he whispers with his hands very lightly touching your back but not resting their full weight. He gives you a moment, then clears his throat. “I've gotta. . . ” He lets go, stands up, and fills the glass of water. “Here.” He puts it on the table, then comes back to you.
“Been a long day, huh?” Carter asks. He squats down and takes your elbow in his hand. “C’mon.” You wipe your eyes on your flannel and stand up. He guides you to the table with his hand on your back and pulls out a chair for you. He leaves you at the table with your water.
—--
You sit there for a minute, sipping your water. Then go to the bathroom to splash your face. You stop crying. You fix your hair. But your eyes are still misty. You look at your chest in the mirror. She scratched you. You can see a couple of her scratch marks better than Joel’s name. Your chest heats up as you stare at it, and your heart beats faster. You take calming breaths. You want her to go away. You don’t want anyone on your skin but Joel. You dab your chest with a cold washcloth. The worst scratch is right over the ‘J’.
You open the medicine cabinet, don’t find anything useful, and close it. You go to the kitchen and find a pocket knife in one of the drawers. You bring it back to the bathroom and open the sharpest blade. What if you just. . .if you make the ‘J’ a little better, maybe. It’s like she goes away. How should you do it? You look down at yourself. You can’t really see. You look in the mirror and bring the knife to your chest. The hand-eye coordination is hard in the mirror.
You’re looking in the mirror, holding the pocket knife in your hand, when the front door opens and slams shut. Joel’s boots thud, then stop. He says your name. “You okay?”
You sniffle. He approaches the bathroom door. It's not shut. You move toward the door to shut it, but you're too late. Joel stops it from closing. He's so much stronger than you, he pushes it open with ease, then his arms wrap you in a hug and the force of it walks you backward toward the sink.
You still have the knife open in your hand. As his arms tighten, you whisper, “Careful,” and hold your hand away.
He pulls away, looks you over, and looks at your hand. “Hell are ya doin’,” he mutters.
You turn back toward the mirror and stroke the ‘J’. “Making it better?”
“Makin’ it. . .”
Your eyes water again as you face the mirror fully. Joel turns toward the mirror, too, standing behind you. You run your fingers over your chest with one hand and hold the knife with the other.
Joel's face changes when he realizes what you're doing. He grabs your wrist so hard you reflexively drop the knife and it clatters into the sink. “No.”
He picks it up, closes it, and puts it behind the faucet. He looks at your face in the mirror. “Can't let ya do that.”
“You said people can’t see it.”
“Told ya we’d figure somethin’ else out.”
“Like what?”
Joel runs his hand over your chest, and his thumb lingers on the scratch over the J. His nostrils flare, his head tilts down, and his eyes darken under his brow. “This from her?”
You nod.
Joel sighs and steps over to the bathtub. He starts a shower. He takes his shirt off over his back. You back away toward the door, and start to give him some space.
“Whoa, nuh-uh” Joel stops you. “Did I say leave?”
“Sorry.”
“Take your clothes off.” He sits on the toilet to untie his boots, then slips out of them and takes off his socks.
“Ya know, ya came out there. Got her all worked up,” he grumbles. What? That’s not fair.
“I just wanted you.”
“You were starin’ right at her, sweet pea.”
“I just wanted to be on you, wanted to touch you,” you insist.
“She wanted her grubby hands on you.”
“You think that's what she wanted?”
“And she got it, didn't she?” Joel asks rhetorically, eyes fixed on your chest again. He clenches his jaw at the sight of her touch. He nods toward the shower. “That’s yours.”
“Can I have a bath?” You know it’s a long shot. He’s not in the mood to wait for water to boil.
“Fire's out and we’re outta gas. Gonna be cold either way.”
You brace yourself for the water. Joel remains seated on the closed toilet and holds your hand to help you balance as you step into the tub. You're far enough back that the water only hits from your abdomen down. It's not quite as bad as you expect, but gives you a chill all over. He scans your body as it prickles in goosebumps and your nipples pebble. He reaches behind you for the soap, then lathers a washcloth. He starts with your chest. The scrape stings.
“She wanted you, not me,” you mutter, wincing at the echo of your own words under the light beating of the water. Joel slows down and you continue, “She was looking at you, not me.” He stops the washcloth on your clavicle. Lather pours between your breasts and trickles down your sternum.
Joel squints at you, looks from your mouth to your tits, swallows, and refocuses on the task, adjusting the washcloth in his hand.
“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout that, sweet pea,” he murmurs and begins to slide the cloth slowly across your skin.
It’s nice to hear, but it’s not enough. Your eyes feel weak. “Well, I do worry about it,” you croak and feel the tears coming back.
He adjusts himself, then sighs. “You always cry in the shower?”
The coldness stings.
“Are you mad at me,” you ask shakily.
Joel curses himself under his breath. His brow furrows at your breasts and he braces his wet hand on his knee. “No, baby.” His eyes rise to meet yours, and he cups your cheek. “No. . .Just tired. . .” He searches your face. “Too many bodies in those woods. Gettin’ old.” You sniffle. You start mentally going through the bodies, and your head hurts at the thought. Joel says, “and ya can’t get in my shot like that, sweet pea.” You relax a little more. Your tears wane at the thought that he was already planning to kill her.
Joel stands up, hands you the washcloth, and starts to undo his jeans. You watch his pants come down over his crotch, a sight that always makes your breath hitch. “Face the water,” he mumbles, and you obey, staying far enough back not to get your head wet. He braces his hand on the far wall of the shower and steps in, squeezing between you and the back of the tub. You inch forward to make room. His feet are spread around yours and his hands rest on your hips for a moment. He presses his lips into the crown of your head, then reaches around your front to take the washcloth from you.
Joel presses himself up against your back, then continues to wash your chest. He soaps up your breasts again, then cradles one with his bare hand as he washes your trunk. You look down and watch the suds slide down your body. He washes your hips, your thighs. You’re grateful for the warmth of his groin against you. He turns you to the side and washes your sides, under your arms, your back, your ass, your legs. Then he tells you to rinse off while he washes himself. He steps all the way under the cold water without so much as flinching. When he’s finished, he rinses off, turns off the water, and wraps you in a hug. The water rolls off your skin and the faucet drips as you stand there in his arms.
After a few minutes, Joel’s deep voice slices through the silence. “Carter's stayin’ tonight. Wait here.” This unsettles you because you imagine Joel must be worried about something to have Carter stay. Did he believe her about the Infected?
Joel wraps a towel around himself and leaves you in the bathroom with your own towel. You look in the mirror for a moment, then quickly avert your eyes from your reflection.
Joel returns with clothes for you. He’s in plaid pj pants and a white t-shirt. Both are too small on him. His pockets are puckered. You smile at the sliver of skin between his pants and shirt, and he asks, “What?”
You shrug. “You’re wearing pjs.”
“Yeah? Well I ain't wearin’em long,” he murmurs and you feel a twitch of need. “You're gonna finish what ya started out there.” He looks at you darkly. “Got it?”
You bite your lip and nod as desire throbs between your legs.
“That means I ain't doin’ it, you are.”
Your chest flutters with butterflies.
He rests a flannel on his shoulder, while he holds up your nightie for you. You lift your arms and he puts it over your head. He pulls it down and pats your butt. “Want it that bad. . .” He holds the flannel up for you and you stick your arms in. He brings his mouth to your ear. “Gonna show me how bad.”
The front door opens and shuts.
“All good?” Joel yells.
“All good,” Carter answers, then exaggerates a loud yawn.
“Blankets in the closet,” Joel yells.
Joel brushes his teeth and leaves you to get ready for bed.
-
Joel returns just as you're finishing up. He shoves his hand in the puckered pocket of the pj pants and pulls out something brown and strappy that looks small in his hands. It looks like a piece of your holster, but thinner, more delicate. His brow furrows at it and he swallows. He sits on the closed toilet seat again.
“What is it?” you ask.
“It's. . .” He looks at your chest. “C'mere.” You step forward. He holds the object against his thigh and with his other hand, he traces the letters on your chest. “It's better than tryin’ to . . .” he trails off. He looks at your face, then back to your chest and caresses it again. “Better than this.” Your heart swells. He doesn’t want to hurt you. He doesn’t want you to hurt you.
He looks at the object in his lap.
“It's for me?”
He nods. He takes a deep breath and fiddles with the belt-like closure. “Can wear a sweater or whatever, and still. . .”
“Lemme try it on.”
He searches your eyes. “Really want to?”
You nod.
He stands up and guides you to the sink. He stands behind you as you both look in the mirror. He wraps it around your throat. Your breath hitches when you see his name in careful, bold lettering, clear but imperfect. It’s an odd sensation, having something around your neck, but the back of it is soft against your skin. It’s smoother and more delicate than the holster is on your thigh.
“It's beautiful,” you tell him as he concentrates on putting it on you.
He's gentle and careful. He fastens it with enough room to breathe and swallow. You look at it in the mirror, and the fact that he made it makes you emotional. “You made it,” you whisper.
He nods. “Don't gotta wear it all the time, but-”
“I love it.”
“Yeah?” he turns you around with his hands on your hips, and his gaze devours your form from head to toe. “Well, God damn. . .Looks good on ya, too.”
You wrap your arms around him and he hugs you close. He leans back to see you wearing the choker. “Let's go to bed.”
—-—--
You take off the flannel and get in bed. You bury your head in your pillow. Joel wraps you in his legs and arms, muscles straining his pajamas as he holds you in the dim room. His big, warm hand strokes your back. His body is like a furnace. You take deep breaths. In his bed, in his arms, you finally feel like you can breathe. His arms feel like home in a way that nearly overwhelms you. These are the arms that took you. They hurt you and pushed you away. Would they still? These arms hold you and care for you. They comfort you and kill for you. You hope they never let go.
It doesn't feel like you were ever really home before him, and it's impossible to imagine an after. There is no after. You're his. In the cruel, awful world, he carved out this space just for you. He kisses your forehead. You pinch your eyes shut and a tear runs down your cheek. It's a tear of relief. You press your cheek into his white t-shirt and his warm package twitches against you. He pushes his hips into you only slightly, and keeps holding you. You focus on his breathing and the beat of his heart.
You wedge your hand between your bodies. Your knuckles slide down your abdomen, and your palm skims his tummy on its way to his pants. You cradle the warm bulge in his flannel. You press your palm into it and he grunts softly as he presses his hips forward. Then he wraps an arm over you. He rolls onto his back, taking you with him. You're on top of him, and your heart flutters as his words from the bathroom echo. That means you’re doin' it.
-
You come to your knees, and he watches you curiously as you straddle him. You lower yourself so your panties meet his flannel, and the warmth of his bulge sends a shock to your chest. You lightly grind against him and watch his chest rise and fall as his cock swells against your neediest place. His hips lift and his eyes gloss over as he watches you move on him. You must be a vision – swollen, misty eyes, scratched up chest – but the look on his face says you’re the prettiest thing he’s ever seen.
That means you're doin’ it.
You scoot back so you’re straddling his thighs. You bring your hand just above his waistband, and your thumb traces his happy trail up under his t-shirt to his belly button, bringing the shirt up with you. You use both hands to push it up and he asks, “Want this off?”
“It's okay,” you shake your head. “Just like to see this. You slide your hand down his stomach, once again running your thumb through the hair leading to his groin. You run your hand slowly up and down it a few times and feel his muscles tense under the light padding of his tummy. The bulge in his pants becomes more of a tent. His tummy flexes as he rises up enough to take the shirt off anyway.
“What else ya like?” He asks. By now, he knows. Oh God, does he know. But he must want to hear it. He must want to see it, feel it. He wets his bottom lip. You back up down his legs and take his flannel pants down. His cock bounces free, and for a moment, you dismount him entirely. Once the pjs are down below his knees, he kicks them off the rest of the way as you take off your underwear. He sucks in air through his nose as he watches you. He's still, and he’s quiet, but the look on his face is more pain than patience.
You straddle his legs, bend at the hips, and rest your elbows on either side of his hips. You take his cock in one hand, then bring your lips to the head. He's still not at full mast. Not for him. For another man, this might be as hard as it gets, but not Joel. You suck the tip into your mouth. A masochistic part of you imagines how many women might have sucked this cock. You have, too, of course. But you want to outdo them all. You suck as much of it into your mouth as you can, and he sucks in a shaky breath as you furrow your brows and close your eyes. You suck from the back of your mouth, and your throat gurgles obscenely as his tip nudges it, then you gag. His hand rests gently on the side of your head. “You’re okay.”
You lock eyes with him as you slowly let his shaft out of your mouth. A string connects your lips to his tip until you wipe your mouth with the back of your wrist. You hold his shaft in a loose fist, thumbing his dorsal vein as you turn your attention to his balls. You cup his balls, then lick a stripe up the seam of his sack, and his hand grips the fitted sheet. When you look up at him, he releases the sheet. Your tongue circles his left nut and he closes his eyes. You have your free hand braced on his upper thigh, near where it meets his torso, and you can practically feel the blood rushing to his cock. His eyes meet yours again, and his brows are furrowed.
“Can I have them in my mouth,” you ask and he nods encouragingly.
You take one into your mouth and circle your tongue around it. You let it rest on your tongue then give it a gentle suck and he breathes, “oh God damn.” It’s fuzzy and soft and feels nice in your mouth.
You pinch your eyes shut and sigh, “Mm,” with your mouth full. You move to the other one, careful and gentle. “Ohh,” he moans a little louder than you expect, and you pause.
You look toward the bedroom door nervously, and take your mouth off. You’re about to remind him about Carter, but he cuts you off, “Shhh,” before you can.
You lick all around his balls again, and his cock throbs angrily in your hand. You suck a ball into your mouth. You want both, but there’s no way you can do it without scraping him with your teeth, so you don’t.
Instead, you return your lips to his tip and feel yourself throbbing as you suck his shaft into your mouth. When you look up, he’s shaking his head no.
“This aint what ya wanted, baby.”
“Is it good?” you ask.
“Yeah. It's good, sweet pea. . .The best.” His thumb brushes your temple. He moves his fingers to tilt your chin up to look at him. “But this ain't what ya want *really* want.”
“Wanna make you feel good.”
“Yeah? You were bouncin’ on my cock out there, just to make me feel good?”
You twitch and swallow and your chest flutters with desire.
“What’d I tell ya in the bathroom?”
“I'm gonna finish what I started”
“That’s right,” he nods.
His cock is raging hard. You’re throbbing and gushing for it. You give the tip of it one last kiss, then get up on your knees and take your time positioning yourself over it. You press his tip against your most sensitive place for a moment and let out a whimper. The contact makes you ache for him.
—
Joel cradles the backs of your thighs as you hold his cock. You look down as you move forward just a little more, then nestle his cockhead at your dripping hole, the very tip of it prodding just barely inside. You’re more than wet enough. You brace your hands on his tummy, near the bottom of his ribs. Then, you begin to sink down with a whimper, letting his cock spread you open. He growls, “God damn.” You're biting your lip, with his big cock stretching you already.
He nods, “go on, you can do it.” You lift yourself up and bend slightly forward, tilting your hips. He sucks in air through his teeth. He grabs your hips, and you groan as he pulls you down. “Fuck,” he breathes heavily. He loosens his hands on your hips, then moves them to your thighs. You sit still on his cock with your body angled slightly forward, your clit pressing into his pubic hair. You savor the fullness and the way your body makes space for him.
You brace your hands on his chest and begin to move yourself. “Good girl,” he whispers with a gentle thrust of his hips. You whimper as his length nudges deep inside, and his hips lift you.
You lift your ass and let most of his length out, before swallowing it up again and moaning with the delicious stretch. You slowly move yourself, and when you whimper, you feel his nipples harden under your hands. You palm his pecs as you ride his cock. His chest rises with deep breaths as you fuck him. His eyes keep drifting to his name wrapped around your neck.
You try to be quiet, biting your lip, but you still let out little moans, you can't help it. So does he. “Ohhh, baby—ohh.” His sounds are desperate, from deep in his chest.
“Ya do it good,” he whispers. He cradles your ass in his massive hands and begins to move you on him, a little faster than you were going. He watches your breasts move under your nightie. He lifts up the hem of your nightie to watch your cunt swallow his length, and he groans softly. You pause and take it off, then start moving again.
“Good girl,” he murmurs, then his hands return to your ass, gently guiding your rhythm. He clenches his jaw, and you can tell he's trying not to take over entirely.
“C’mere a minute,” he murmurs.
His tummy pudges and wrinkles over his flexing abs, and his fingers dig into your ass cheeks as he sits up. He wraps his arms around you and turns to face the edge of the bed with his legs hanging off. “Hang on,” he murmurs. “Hang on, baby.” He holds your back with one arm, stands up slightly, and pulls at one of your thighs. You adjust your position so you’re seated instead of kneeling and your bent legs wrap loosely around him. Without the leverage of your knees on the bed, it’s up to him.
You have your arms around his neck and your face against his cheek. Your lips pull like a magnet to the skin just below the dark, curly hair on his head. You plant a kiss on his neck and suck lightly. He exhales vocally. He hugs you into him and moves you up and down. He’s doing it all now. You both sigh and moan as his cock fills you up.
Then, he loosens his arms and slides his hands to your shoulder blades. He hooks his thumbs under your arms and breathes, “Lemme see ya for a minute.”
You hesitantly let him pull you away from his body, missing the heat of his chest against yours.
“Ain't gonna drop ya, sweet pea.”
You relax some of your weight into his hands, and he brings you all the way down so you're lying face up with your lower back on his lap. His hands under your arms hold you steady as he thrusts into you, like your body is a warm, wet sleeve for him. You let your head fall back in pleasure. He grunts as he moves you, and you look again to see him snarl. He looks down and watches his cock disappear again and again.
“God damn you feel good,” he whispers. His eyes roam from your eyes to your lips, to your choker, to your tits. He watches where your bodies are joined as he keeps thrusting into you, making you feel like no one ever has. Then his eyes drift up your body again. He slows down. His hands tighten, and he grunts as he brings your body upright again. Your breasts meet his chest. Your arms wrap around his neck again as he hugs you. Your cheek rests against his jaw, and his scuff scratches you pleasantly. “Always so good,” he breathes, moving you on his cock. His breath is warm against your ear. “Ohh baby,“ he sighs.
He tilts his chin to look up at the ceiling, and you latch onto his neck. He braces a hand on the bed and his hips lift under yours as you grind your body into his. “Yeah,” he sighs. “Oh, God, baby. You're–you’re so good for me,” he pants, barely above a whisper. “Ohhh–so good, sweet pea.”
You release his neck with a whimper. He cradles your head with one hand, and his cheek returns to yours.
As you ride him, his head slowly drifts back, so his breath is on your cheek instead of your ear. Your lips are dangerously close, and Joel doesn't pull away. Your mouths get closer while your bodies move as one. Soon, the corners of your lips are touching. You breathe and moan against each other's mouths. Your lips tingle at the closeness, and all you want is his mouth on yours. It feels so close. The sides of your mouths move against each other. It’s enough, just feeling his lips. You want more, but it’s enough, for now. He pulls his head back, and your heart barely has time to sink before he leans his forehead against yours and cradles the back of your head. Your mouths loosely connect, with his lower lip hitching on your upper lip every time you slide down his cock. You breathe each other’s breath. Your noses touch. His bottom lip tenses, and his mouth follows yours, not letting your lips slip away. You moan softly against his mouth, pinching your eyes shut, resisting the urge, resisting it.
Then, Joel presses his open lips against yours. His lips drag lightly, clockwise, then they truly embrace you. As your mouths seal together, you half-moan, half-whine, “Mmm.” His lips are strong and desperate, pulling on yours like a hug. You can feel him taking your air and your spit. He sucks it right out of you, replacing it with an even more desperate need for him. You’re having him, you’re having all of him, but you can never have enough. Arousal floods your body. It gathers deep in your gut and bubbles up to your chest. You take a deep breath through your nose as his tongue slowly thrusts into your mouth and finds yours. His cock is in your tight, wet cunt, and his tongue is in your soft little mouth. You throb and twitch on his cock, and you're nearly overcome. Your whole body simmers. He wraps his arm tighter around you, and your tits smush against him as he kisses you hungrily, and you kiss back. It’s real, it’s really–it’s real. His hand slides down to grip the back of your neck as your mouths move together, drawing each other in, deeper and deeper, like you need it to live.
“Mmmm,” you whine at your imminent peak.
“Mm,” he grunts into your mouth as you twitch again on his cock. His tongue slides against yours, and the tension boils over violently, erupting from your core out to every inch of your body. Your walls clench, and you don't want to let go of his mouth, but your body jerks. Your lips begin to break away with a moan as you spasm on his cock. He holds you there by your neck. Your mouths stay half connected, and you breathe and moan against each other. Time freezes and waves of pleasure ripple through your core. Then, Joel’s thick cock twitches in the embrace of your spasming cunt. “Ugghh,” grunts, then his lips take yours again. “Mmmm.” He erupts, and you're still not finished. He holds you still, holds you tight. His hips lift slowly into you as his cock pulses. Massive bursts of warmth flood your core, and he kisses you slowly but needily as he comes. The kiss becomes sloppy. You both breathe through your noses, but your mouths still disconnect for split seconds, breathing each other’s humid breath.
When Joel finishes emptying his load into you, he gently pulls his lips from yours to take a deeper breath. He leans back and collapses on the bed. You sit there on his cock, still twitching, and your hand drifts to your tingling lips. His hands rest on your thighs. You watch his chest expand with air, and you watch his face. He opens his eyes, then silently motions c’mere with both hands. You fold at your hips and hug him. As you settle in, he strokes the nape of your neck. His chest rises and falls under your cheek. He unfastens the leather choker for you. You were planning to sleep in it, but now that he’s kissed you–and it was more than that, it felt like more–you don't feel quite as desperate for the tangible reminder that he wants you. You have it. Your lips are buzzing. Your whole body is. You can feel it in your bones.
-
After a few minutes of caressing you, Joel murmurs, “Let's get some sleep.”
You both get under the covers. He lies on his back. You’ve never seen his face so peaceful. You rest your head and half your body on him. You rest your hand on his chest. He strokes your back. Then, he lays his other hand on top of yours.
Soon, you drift off to the sound of him lightly snoring.
----
----
Raider POV: The Kiss
----
----
----
So, I was writing this one when I took the detour to let Carter jack off lmao: He's only human.
Thank you so much for reading and engaging. I really appreciate your support and patience and love for these characters. Out of all my characters, it means so much to me when you engage with raider Joel because I pour a lot of myself into this one and have been writing it for >8 months.
Love you all so much! I can't respond to everything without spamming but I appreciate all of your commentary so much and often revisit it when I need inspo.
I hear you about notifs not working, i hear you about tags not working (i'm not getting a lot of my tags either). consider checking my fic notifs blog @toxicfics or the "latest fics" on my profile header once in a while to see what you might have missed.
Raider: @randomhoe @princessloveweird @mugshotqueen @anas-dreamer @eggnox @dindjarins-brown-eyed-girl @tulipsatmidnight @imaginary98 @neobanguniverse@quietlyignoringyou @gab-thelamb-onthemoon
: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller fanfic#dark!joel miller#raider!joel miller#raider!joel#raider joel#toxicanonymity ☠️#raider!joel ☠️#cw dubcon#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller fanfiction#dark fluff
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