#wouldn't it be nice if he hadn't just fucked it all up just because
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✮ tags ; pwp, fem + afab!reader, dubcon (reader is drunk af), dirty talk, rough-ish sex, the liiiightest yan undertone. 18+
✮ a/n ; im not a kiri fucker but i . had a thought in the shower
Kirishima fucks like he has something to prove.
That part of him hasn't changed, you think. It's a bad time to be reminiscing about such a thing, especially since your brain can't think of anything other than how good it feels to have such a thick cock buried in your sore, weeping cunt.
Kirishima has stopped briefly, just to bottom out and press his navel to your sex - so your brain has a little space to think. You don't know exactly how you've ended up here after thinking about it for a long time. The alcohol is making your head feel fuzzy and your lower half is weak, might melt into Kirishima's nice king size bed if you're not careful.
An hour ago, you had come off of work and joined some friends in an izakaya. Kirishima was there too, seemingly with his own friends. You hadn't seen him since middle school, when he shorter and more negative. You had a crush on him then, back before all the hero stuff.
It was refreshing to see a boy your age obsesses over something like being a perfectly chivalrous man. You were friend though not closely, and had a dopey school girl love affair that never came of fruition. You didn't speak to him after that, weren't close enough to ask - and watched him grow into a hero through televised events and news.
He's a pro now. He was much bigger than you thought he'd be. You didn't think men could get that big, unless they played basketball or something. He was shorter than you in middle school but when you saw him again in person, he was double your height. You had to crane your neck up just to get a good look at his face. Defined jaw and rugged, boyish charm that made your cheeks warm like you hadn't grown out of being a girl.
You thought he wouldn't recognize you since he's basically famous now, but he did. Flagged you down and whisked you away for drinks and catch up time. Your friends pushed you to go, so you did. You drank and spoke about nothing in particular and Kirishima seemed so enraptured with you - you thought the alcohol had fried your brain. Thoroughly tipsy and giggly, you admitted to having a crush on him in long and unnecessary detail. That you liked him, and seem to still if this feeling is anything to go by.
You hadn't expected anything of it. But he kissed you in the corner of the bar and asked if you had anywhere to be, hauled you into a taxi when you said no and made out with you on the way home. Put his hand underneath you shirt and squeezed your waist, said something about how cute you are. Always have been.
No one seemed to think anything of it when you left. Pro-Hero's escort drunk girls all the time, but you wonder if it's normal to fuck them? You wonder if Kirishima has practice in bring home drunk girls who are too big for their boots and too needy to be anything but sincere.
He's so good at fucking you, you aren't sure you'd mind that being true. Not like this.
He didn't give you any time to adjust to what was going on, every breath had him chasing more of you like he'd run out of time if he didn't rush. He carried you inside, licked your pussy while you laid against his kitchen counter and finger fucked you until you could take all eight inches of him. Was he always this relentless? You know he was never kind, no matter how much he seems it. He was always critical and cunning, but you didn't expect him to be so ruthless.
He doesn't let you off of his cock after he gets you on it. Makes you wrap your arms around his shoulders even though you barely can because he's so big. Makes you wrap your legs around his waist and tells you to hold tight as he walks you up the stairs with his cock still twitching. The whole thing makes your eyelids burn with pleasure, your body yearning to keep him inside of you for as long as you can stay conscious which is barely when you're this wasted.
He dropped you in his bed and fucked you in missionary. You think in the span of a few hours, you've spent more of it feeling his cock throb inside of you longer than you've spent without. He's too big, and fucks mean. There's no chivalry in it, just pure primal desire behind weight and heavy thrusts that make you gasp involuntarily.
You haven't stopped cumming. You've never done that so much in a row. Your body feels nearly numb as you think on it. He's been keep you like this for so long and the alcohol is making you lightheaded. You can barely understand what he's saying except that he's loved you for so long. You wonder if that's true. Your pussy likes it though, clenches every time he groans into your neck after the headboard hits the wall with his thrusts.
He fucks you like he wants to prove something to you. You don't know what exactly. You're drunk and floaty and you can't stop cumming and you can't think of anything other than how much you want him to fuck your brains out. How much you want him to cum, so deep in your pussy you'd have to push it out to get rid of it. How much you want to cum around his cock until you get so fuckdrunk you pass out on it.
A little pleasant catching up and now you can't unfurl your spine from the way it's raised, and your toes hurt from how tight they've curled. You feel ditzy with it. Didn't know cock could make you cum so much you turn stupid and babbling. It's all you've been doing and Kirishima doesn't seem to mind it all. Just laughs at your nonsense words and kisses you with sharp teeth and fucks you.
And fucks you and fucks you and fucks you, with your knees to your ears and your eyes blurry and hazed.
"Kirisihima-kun," You gasp at him, breathless and hot.
"Eijirou," He corrects with a nip to your mouth. "We won't leave each other now. Not anymore."
He punctuates with the promise with a thrust so deep you can't do anything but agree. You wonder if all this is trying to prove his love for you, but how you could that be true? It's been years.
Another thrust makes your lower belly clench, and something squirts out of you mid thrust. You're too hazy to feel self-conscious of it and Kirishima only laughs.
You close your eyes and let him have you. Again and again and again.
#kirishima smut#bnha x reader#bnha smut#writing tag#dubcon cw#aha nooo kirishima dont take advantage of me while im drunk and out of it haha nooo#<- SORRY LAMSDOFJKD
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles pop-up Graduation challenge.
What's A Little Grand Theft Auto Between Friends?
Prompt: Graduation | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Nudity for Comedy, Smoking, Brief Mention of Underage Drinking | Tags: Post S2, Class of '85 Graduation Party at the Quarry, Randomly Teaming Up, And Then Having Fun Together, Steve Gets an Alternate Introduction to Eddie's Hot-Wiring Skills, Steve Ain't Body Shy, He Spent Too Many Years in Locker Rooms, Pre-Steddie
Coming tonight was a mistake, he's realized, because Steve isn't comfortable with this crowd, not anymore.
Decision made: He's leaving.
He places his plastic cup down on the open tailgate of a truck he's passing by.
"Thanks for the trash, Harrington," comes the snapping snarl, and Steve stops. He hadn't realized there was anyone sitting in the back of the truck. But there's Munson, in all black, blending into the night. The only thing visible, the cherry on the end of his lit cigarette.
"Sorry, man," Steve says, leaning up against the side of the pickup, "I didn't want to just, you know, throw it on the ground."
"How noble," Munson says, dripping with sarcasm.
Steve's too tired for another snotty showdown. Graduation party at the quarry sounded neutral enough, but he was wrong. He's done dealing with everyone, and everything, from Hawkins High.
Except Henderson and the kids. But they haven't started HHS yet, so they totally don't count, and tonight he can hate everything about the place.
Including the crown prince of shitty attitudes, Eddie "The Freak" Munson.
Steve takes the few steps back, grabs the cup, slings the beer that was mostly untouched into the grass. Holding up the empty cup to show Munson he's corrected this horrible offense.
"That's more like it," Munson says, cigarette dangling from his lip.
"Well, that's my cue," Steve says, and keeps walking.
"Wait! Wait a second," Munson asks, no demands, and Steve has no idea why he even thinks about going back, let alone does it.
But he does.
Backpedaling the few steps until he can almost see Munson again.
"What?" Steve asks.
"You leaving already?" Munson questions, and Steve just bobbles his head, because yeah, obviously.
"Can I get a ride back to town?" Munson asks, and Steve arches an eyebrow.
"Is this not your truck?" Steve asks.
"Nope," Munson answers, and Steve's hand flies up to toss the empty cup right at Munson's forehead.
Munson bats it away, laughing, as it clatters around noisily in the truck bed.
"You're a dickhead," Steve says, but then just wheels his arm around, silently telling Munson to hurry up if he's coming. Munson grins, wide and wolfish, hopping over the side with ease, landing on both feet with a resounding thud.
Then he holds out his arm in a sweeping after you gesture. Steve shakes his head and starts walking back to his car, hoping like hell he's not blocked in.
He is.
"Well, shit."
"I got this," Munson says, trying the doors of both cars boxing them in, nearly touching bumper. Billy and Tommy, of fucking course.
The Camaro is locked, but Tommy's isn't, and Munson slides into the driver's seat. Curious, Steve sinks into the passenger seat.
Munson pulls out a multi-tool of some kind, and before Steve has a chance to realize exactly what he's doing, Munson has the cables pulled out from under the dash.
"Holy shit," Steve says, leaning closer, "where'd you learn to do that?"
"Well, when the other dads were teaching their kids how to fish or play ball, my old man was teaching me how to hot-wire. Now, I swore I wouldn't wind up like he did, but they wanna be dickheads? We'll all be dickheads. What's a little grand theft auto between friends?"
Friends. They aren't friends, and Steve's aware of that fact, acutely. But he'd be lying if it didn't feel kinda nice to hear from someone, even as a lie.
So, Steve grins, "Not a thing. Friend."
Eddie backs up Tommy's car, then pulls the wires, killing the engine. Afterwards, he stuffs everything back up under the dash.
"Won't that-" Steve starts.
"Yup," Eddie answers, "gonna be deader than shit and he's gonna have no idea why."
"My man," Steve says, holding up his fist, and Eddie eyes him, but eventually bumps it back. "Thanks. This is hilarious, and he'll never suspect me. Like, I can't do that, and Tommy knows it."
"That's why it's good to have shady characters on your side, Harrington."
"Guess so," Steve agrees, and once they're back in Steve's car, Steve backs up, pulling away, easily.
Eddie digs his cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, "Can I?"
"Only if you light me one," Steve answers, watching as Eddie slides the cigarette along his own bottom lip, into his mouth, puffing as he lights it, then reaches over to place it between Steve's parted lips.
Steve feels funny about it, in a way he doesn't exactly understand, just for a second, before shaking it off.
"So, why was King Steve bailing so early tonight?" Eddie asks.
"Eh, I don't know. Guess I realized I'd graduated and had no interest in seeing any of those assholes again."
"Well, I didn't graduate, but same."
"You didn't graduate?"
"Nah, maybe the third time will be the charm," Eddie answers. "Going from King Steve, to running as fast as you can. I'm proud of you, big boy."
It's so unexpected, Steve's sure he looks stupid, before he busts out laughing, "Well, that's a new one."
"Really? Are the rumors not true? I'll be so disappointed," Eddie asks, looking dramatic, feet now resting on Steve's dashboard. Steve doesn't have the energy to tell him no.
"What rumors?"
"About your big dick, man. Girls talk. I listen."
What? That's. What?
"Well, I gotta piss, so you can take a gander for yourself, I guess," Steve banters, parking and hopping out of the car along the dirt road.
He knows Eddie doesn't actually wanna look, but two can play this game.
So, Steve doesn't go to the trunk, to the cover of darkness. No, he heads right up front, illuminated by headlights, and takes his dick into his hand. Lays it on his palm, like he's presenting it.
He looks through the windshield, but can't really see Eddie's reaction. Bummer.
But, then Eddie's hand pops out of the passenger window, giving him a big thumbs up.
And Steve tosses his head back, laughing.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
#steddieholidaydrabbles#graduation#steddie#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#steddie fic#thisapplepielife: short fic#thisapplepielife: steddieholidaydrabbles
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"Until he gets tired of me."
That's was Darlin's answer anytime someone questioned their relationship with Sam. A pircing but deep pain would shoot through their chest every time they said it. But it was always said in a joking tone and a movement to distract the other person from their face.
No one needed to see how that thought may have hurt them. They knew what they were getting into from jump. Darlin' felt safe. Safer than they had felt in a long time. They found that safety in Sam and were grateful for it. Nothing is promised, and to have had Sam in their life at all was a blessing and a mercy.
As much as they hated the thought of Sam ever leaving them, Darlin' could never blame him. They'd fucked up so many times in their life. People had gotten hurt. They were reckless. In being so, caused Sam to strain himself to care and worry for them.
There were day they wished Sam would just pack up and go. To rid himself the headache of their presence. But whenever they woke, he was always right there, holding them close and tightly.
He'd never do that, though. It was obvious to anyone who actually bothered to see them together. The tenderness in his eyes. The gentleness of his touch. The vampire was beyond sprung for the wolf. He was happy. Like he was finally healing.
Sam wouldn't be going anywhere. Sam learned that about himself very quickly after the first couple of meetings. Darlin' knew as well. A part of their brain screamed to believe otherwise. They hadn't done anything to deserve his grace. His patience. His love. Love that was promised to them until the end of their time.
"Do you think Count Yee-Haw will stay?"
The question had been asked once again. This time, by a young boy named Carlos. He had gotten attached to Darlin' as a toddler and was one of the few pack members that was genuinely happy to see them back.
Count Yee-Haw was the nickname the the pack kids had given Sam. Only they could call him that, though. It was a name bestowed upon him after the collective decided to put his vamp strength to the test. The poor man was literally dog piled and left to hold and stumble around with a minimum of 8 kids hanging off his frame like ornaments. It was a title he was growing fond of.
"Probably. At least until he gets tired of me." Darlin gave the boy a half-hearted smile and pulled forward the hood of his jacket.
"I heard some of the adults talking. They said that he wouldn't stay when you get older." Carlos admitted, frown all too clear on his face. "It's stupid. He obviously loves you. And you're happy now. Isn't that enough?"
The words spoken came from a place of care. Carlos had missed his favorite rebel and defender of Asher's antics. Truth be told, he was worried Darlin' would become uneasy around the pack again and got MIA again. They were more stable with the southern vamp at their side.
Darlin' was about ready to hug the kid in an attempt to soothe his nerves. But a single thought ran through their head. Carlos was a sweet kid. But what he said was just a little nice? Too nice to come from a tween.
"Besides. I don't think you'll ever stop being weird. A d he already talks like an old ma-." Darlin' cut him short with a smack to the back of his head.
"If you think that, why even ask?"
"Because I know you hear them too. And I don't want you guys to go anywhere."
🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺🦇🐺
If you read all that, I'm sorry.
Labeling this as part 1 cause I'm tired. Sorta been drained all week. Hoping to get actually rest this weekend and do a part 2. I have a habit of starting things and not finishing.
AO3 scares me, so small shit will remain here for the time being.
#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted fic#redacted darlin#redacted tank#redacted sam#sam collins
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helooo!! okay, okay, come with me...
WHAT IF: we know bruno is a guy who sees the bigger picture of things, he goes through the actions and foresees patterns and consequences. what i mean is that he usually doesn't act out of spontaneity and whims (unlike our baby ivan). he thinks through, he overthinks, he plans. and this is why I AM NOT BUYING THIS BRIVAN ARC BECCA!! or the line of events as you wish to portray to us, i mean 😏
WHAT I THINK IT'S HAPPENING:
somewhere - somehow - our old gal norma reached out to Bruno again. remember this conversation right here?
well, with our other 'dear' friead kian leaving the prison, i think bruno was contacted by norma again. to put a permanent end to it. 'it' being the business because something tells me that kian wants to take the reins of del sol now ash is out of the scene...
bruno is in some sort of undercover work, like leah or silas once did...
and he is doing it by sacrificing his family bliss because he believes THAT is a cause worth fighting for. a world with less 'kians' is definitely a better place.
obviously, this is causing inner conflicts. he doesn't like to lie to ivan and he is difinitely thinking twice on whether this is reason enough to put his family through this... hence, the depression.
this is not structured as i'd like it to be and probably not even written in a way to make sense, because my mind is...
Anaaaaaaaa.. 🤯
He DOES overthink things, doesn't he?! So either he's swanning off to do something heroic and sacrificing his supposed happiness for it OR he slowly realised he's a square peg in a round hole and he can't deal anymore n' self sabotaged himself out of his lil corner.. OR a secret third thing?! who knows honestly 🤷♀️
me.. i know
Love this theory tho!! Would also love to see if anyone has anymore thoughts abt this too 👀
#ranswers#ahhhhhhhhhhh#wouldn't it be nice if he hadn't just fucked it all up just because#maybe bruno's just a broken fella tho#idk#fite me abt it in the comments ig 🤺#sdkjsk#i WILL say tho.. both norma and eugene are now retired#🤔
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Princess
Summary: Luke never would have thought he'd ever have eyes for the daughter of Hades and Persephone.
Warnings!: Fem! Hades & Persephone reader, because Hades cabin doesn't exist yet, she's a minor god, so she stays in whatever cabin she pleases until the time of Nico Di Angelo. Timing is placed before tlt . She has pyro kenesis basically fire control. I've changed somethings, she's not considered a forbidden child because she's born from two gods, not a god and a human. This isn't canon obvi i made it up to fit the story.
Whenever Luke was called to the big house, he knew he was never in trouble. It was always to show around and be informed of a new arrival. But this time when he got to Chiron and Mr. D they seemed a little bit more..serious about this new camper.
"Ah Luke, come sit with us." Chiron beckoned him to sit with him and Mr. D while they were playing cards. This was already out of the ordinary, usually when there was a new camper, he would get a brief run down of who they were and when they were coming, and he would be sent back on his merry little way. He slowly pulled out the chair and sat. "We have a new camper coming tomorrow."
Okay nothing new, "That's great, I'll be showing them around tomorrow?" He asks knowing the answer is yes.
"Yes, but there are some things you need to know before her arrival." Chiron answers. Great, so the new camper is a girl.
"This girl.." Chiron continues. Luke waited. He was so curious. Was she a forbidden child? Was she a crazy psycho? "She's the daughter of Hades, and Persephone." That answered all of Luke's questions.
The Princess of the Underworld would be coming to Camp Half-Blood, and he needed to escort her around.
"She'll arrive tomorrow early in the morning, be ready kid. O' eight hundred. " Dionysus continued.
"You are dismissed." Chiron says not once looking up from his intense game or cards with Mr. D. Whelp, this was gonna be very interesting for Luke.
Luke woke up the next morning at around 7 am. Perfect amount of time to get ready and to eat something before showing the new camper around. It had occurred to Luke that he didn't know her name. Chiron hadn't told him. By the time he was done getting ready and had a bite to eat, it was about 7:50. Perfect timing.
He made it to the borders of camp to wait for the girl. Nonethe less when the clock struck 8:00am and all of the campers started to ride due to the morning conch. A big pink flame of fire emerged from the ground. It startled Luke, but as the flame started to go away, the silhouette of a girl peaked through. She was facing the other way looking around. And when she turned around..
Oh boy.
Luke fell hard. His palms were starting to sweat, he felt his heart thumping. Of course he had always heard the myths and the stories about the Princess of the underworld. In almost all of them they had all mentioned her beauty. And boy were those words true.
"Are you the boy that's showing me around? Father said that I would have an escort?" She said. Her voice was like the calm after a storm. Luke didn't answer. "Uhm? Sir?" She questioned.
"Oh! Uhm yes! that's me. Uh I'm Luke." He managed to get out while offering his hand to her.
She took it, boy her hands were soft like feathers. "I'm Y/n, it's nice to meet you, but can we get going? It's quite hot today." She said
Without thinking Luke says "You'd think you'd be used to the heat, being from the underworld and all." Luke's eyes widen when he realized what he said.
He looked her in the eyes and at first he thought he fucked up. She had a deadpan on her face. But when they stared at each other for a bit she started to crack, and she let out the most beautiful laugh Luke had ever heard.
"Well, let's get going Luke, we wouldn't wanna burn out here," She said with a little giggle sending a small amber his way.
He was in awe. She had fire powers, just like the stories said.
After a while. The pair got close. They were friends...that's if you still count them as your friends even though you're constantly flirting all of the time.
And that was the dynamic between the two. They were always bickering or flirting, or both at the same time. Luke knew from the moment he saw her he was doomed. He had never felt this way about anyone before. Every camper saw it, Luke looked at Y/n like she hung the stars in the sky, and honestly if you told Luke she did, he would believe you.
After a while the two had even received a name, the princess and her guardian. Because wherever Y/n was Luke wasn't too far by lingering around her, always keeping an eye on her.
They never admitted they're feelings for each other however. Not until the incident about a year after Y/n's first summer at camp.
"Oh come on Y/n, why don't you ditch that loser Luke and be with me." Ben from Aphrodite cabin said to her as she sat by herself with her lunch waiting for Luke.
"Excuse me?" She said with offence. Luke for one was NOT a loser, okay maybe he was just a bit but still. That was rude, and Y/n didn't like rude people.
"You heard me doll." He said with a smug smirk. Gross, that nick name did not come out as good as he thought it did.
"Leave me alone please, now you're just being ridiculous." She stated. Y/n was very open with her boundaries and did not like it when they were crossed.
"Oh come on, you know you want to." This guy just couldn't take the hint.
"She said leave dude." Luke stated from behind you. You looked back and smiled mouthing "Thank you."
"Well well, the loser himself. Y/n deserves a real man, after all, she is a princess." He said in a snarky tone.
"Dude seriously just back off." Luke said stepping up chest to chest with him now. Y/n stood now, she didn't like conflict, and she definitely did not want to be the reason why it started.
"Come on Luke, let's just go." She said trying to tug him away. Luke looked at her then back at the smug boy. Luke huffed and turned around.
"Yeah go ahead and go cry to your daddy! Oh wait..." Ben shouted as they walked away. This time Luke wasn't the only one that was fighting now. Y/n knew all about Hermes and how he treated Luke. Now this made her angry.
"What did you say?" Y/n said as she turned around.
"You heard me clear and-" He stopped talking as he took in Y/n's state. Her eyes burned with fire. Her fists ready with flames.
"Can you repeat yourself?" She said coming closer to him.
Ben started to panic. "Help!" He yelled, as if everyone eyes weren't on them the second Y/n turned around. "This girl is crazy!" He cried.
Y/n fake lunged forward toward him which scared him endlessly making him run off to cry to mommy. Of course Y/n wasn't going to actually hurt him. Just scare him a bit so he wouldn't mess with her and Luke.
Now that Ben was away, so was the crowd. Nothing to watch anymore so everyone went about their day. Now it was just her and Luke.
She calmed and so did her fire. She turned to see Luke staring at her with more twinkle in his eyes than usual.
"Yes?" She asked.
"I'm in love with you." Luke said.
"What?"
"I love-" Luke was cut off with a pair of lips colliding with his. It was everything Luke thought it would be. Her lips were soft, just like he imagined. He always thought he would kiss her first though. I guess some things can't be predicted.
"I love you too Luke Castellan." She said after they pulled apart.
The two stared at each other with their rosy cheeks and they're foreheads pushed together.
Luke never would have thought in a million years that he would be with the Princess of the Underworld, there's a first to everything though.
A/n: I've been having writers block recently. I literally don't know what to write, so if you have an requests, they're open on my acct!!
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explicit sexual content; fem! reader MDNI
"gods, you're such an asshole, you know that?"
your swearing doesn't deter luke one bit. he chuckles a little under his breath, not even questioning if you mean your words because he's so sure you don't.
he readjusts his grip a little, trailing his hand further down to massage your clothed clit with his thumb and while keeping his other four fingers sprawled out across the expanse of your stomach.
with his other hand, he continues pumping his cock.
"it's not my fault you lost a bet. maybe you should get better luck. or better aim."
the start of your reply is cut short by luke taking his touch a little further down, running the pad of his thumb up and down the bundle of nerves right under your clit before taking it back up.
"you–ngh..."
he raises his eyebrows tauntingly, waiting for you to gather the strength to continue.
"you cheated."
he rolls his eyes. you'd been accusing luke of cheating in your one on one archery competition earlier, a stint that came about whenever you boldly claimed to have been a better archer than luke. either that wasn't true, or you were having an off day, because the two of you were engaging in luke's end of the deal.
you'd been upset about it, pouting and complaining while you took your shorts off and spread your legs to show your grey cotton panties. but as soon as luke began to touch you, even though it was above your underwear, you didn't seem all too upset.
your mouth wouldn't stop, though.
"not cheating, angel. just better than you."
you make a noise of frustration, one luke recognizes well, and he knows you would've said something back if he hadn't taken the tip of his cock and rubbed it along your slit. that instantly has you going dumb, lips parting with a satisfied sigh.
luke's attitude melts away too . he'd been setting the parameters, and not giving you his cock was apart of you losing the bet. but he'd been neglected.
in no time he has the corner of your panties lifted and his cock slipped inside. your saliva that he'd added to his fist earlier, his precum, and the arousal coating your cunt all mixes to work well enough as lubrication, providing a nice slick to allow him to slide his cock between your cunt and your panties.
you're back to complaining, begging him to just stick it in. he's not budging, focusing on getting himself closer and closer to an orgasm all while darkening the front of your underwear to a deep grey. you're writhing around, searching for more friction, trying to get luke to nudge against your clit.
he simply holds you down with one hand on your hip, the other paying the attention needed to get himself to an orgasm.
and when it comes, his head hands and he digs his fingernails into your side, letting your unsatisfied whimpers coax him through it. he fucks into your underwear a couple more times, but ultimately decides to pull out and leave his cum behind instead.
he pats the area, using his middle and pointer finger to glide his cum further down your cunt, all while ignoring the sounds you're making.
his cock is stuffed back into his boxers, he has his cargos back on, and then he's sliding your shorts back over your ass and even going as far as to buckle them back up.
he kisses your cheek then your forehead, telling you to "remember to wear them for the rest of the night", only grinning in your face whenever you call him an asshole once more. just for good measure.
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you and i (back at it again) / steve harrington
summary: steve's left standing alone after starcourt, until you show up for him.
word count: 2.2k
author's note: inspired by this tik tok because i nearly shed a tear also this is my first time posting in awhile be nice pls
He watches his friends reunite with their families, mournful. He stands alone and contemplative by a cop car, the various spots of bruising and swelling on his face beginning to pulse with pain the more his adrenaline began to fade out of his bloodstream. The cops at the station said they'd called his parents house, his house, but no one had picked up. He knew they were home. He kicks a rock near his his foot, shoving his hands in the pockets of the bloody uniform he was still wearing. He wants a shower. He wants to go to bed. He wants to go to bed with the serenity of someone who knew they were loved. He wouldn't be able to do that if he went home. The word home a loose term.
"We can take you home if you need a ride, son," one of the cops says to him. Steve kicks at another rock. Home.
"That's alright," Steve says dismissively, ignoring the tight twist in his chest. "Someone will have gotten in touch with my parents by now. I'm sure they're on their way." The cop looks doubtful. Steve hates that he looks doubtful. Steve hates that he's also doubtful. "Couple more minutes," he swears. He knows he might as well walk his ass home, though.
He leans against the hood of the car, rubbing at his jaw. His hand comes away bloody. He's about to accept the cop's offer for a ride, maybe, he figures, he'll just go to Robin's and sit there for as long as her parents will have him, when a car comes careening into the lot like there's not fifty officers of the law standing around, the tires screeching loudly across the gravel. It's barely at a stop, practically still moving, when you throw the door open and throw your body out of it.
"Steve Harrington, what the fuck?" You leave your car door open, leave it in the middle of the road, still running, to get to him in time. He gazes at you, and it's a stupid look in all honesty, mouth agape, his brown eyes big and tragic looking, his face torn up and swollen. He wasn't expecting you. Why would he have been? You'd been broken up for a few months now and he was still nursing his wounds from it, knowing it was supposed to be for the best; you felt like he was hiding things from you and he knew that he was, hiding all the stuff about the Upside Down, not wanting you involved, wanting you safe. And in a way he was glad for it. He'd gotten through this with you unscathed, and who knows what would have happened if you guys had still been together. When he looks at you, though, when he allows himself to be pulled in closer, your hand coming up to graze his cheek, examining every scrape on his face with softness and worry, he allows himself to want. To miss you.
You tilt his face back, scrutinizing his features. He keeps his eyes on you. You showed up for him. No one else but you. You were here. "The fire is all over the fucking news and I didn't know if you were working tonight so I was sitting by the phone waiting to hear from someone and then your friend Robin called and said you were waiting here for someone to come get you so I just came in case and- and what happened to your face? And where are your parents?"
He shakes himself out of his stupor. "They didn't answer the phone." But you did. You answered and you were here. A wave of pure love rushes through him. He knew a thing or two about being alone, had felt that way for as long as he could remember, no matter how many people he surrounded himself with or how many parties he threw, but you were here, and he wasn't alone. Steve wraps his arms around you in one sudden movement, an outpouring of affection he hadn't realized he'd been reserving for you. Always you.
You stand there for a moment, processing, before you respond, leaning into his touch. The sirens wail around you. Neither of you move. He's safe. You breathe relief into the embrace, holding him tighter to you. He's hardly talking, and usually he's the one talking the absolute most, but he's stunned, both with what's just happened, what he's borne witness to, and with the way you care about him despite everything, more than anyone he's ever met, and the way he cares about you and how could he ever, ever let himself let you go? How could that ever happen? It's all he thinks about as he holds you, feeling safer than he's felt in awhile, the smell of your hair and your skin filling his brain with serotonin.
"Am I taking you home?" You pull away, staring up at him, his ruined face that is still so painfully gorgeous, still so hard to look at. Your hand is remains poised on his cheek. It's warm and welcome.
"No, no, your house, please," he brings his hand up to meet yours.
"I got you, c'mon, honey." He turns and thanks the officers who'd been waiting with him before letting you lead him to your car. He keeps his hand on yours. It tethers him to reality. He's here and he's okay. Or he will be, soon. He's here and he's safe, at the very least. He's not trapped and being tortured. No one's going to hurt him. He's got your soft hand in his and he's okay for right now.
The drive to your house is silent, but it's not awkward. You try to keep your eyes on the road as much as you can but you can't help that they keep finding themselves back on Steve. You've never seen him so reserved. You're sure it was more than a fire that happened back there, and you're sure he won't tell you a thing about it. You drive one-handed the whole way home. You let him need you.
At your house, you get your bathroom set up for him to shower, placing fresh towels on the rack for him, laying out your products on the counter. He would've been able to find them regardless, but you busy yourself with it anyway. When you go into your bedroom to tell him the bathroom is ready, his shoes are off and put into the corner he used to always put them in, and he looks exhausted. "I didn't bring clothes to change," is the first thing he says.
"That's what you're most concerned about?" You give him a funny look. You open your closet and rummage around on the ground for a second before tossing him a pair of his old sweatpants and a t-shirt. He stares at them in his hands. "I didn't know if I should give them back. So I just... didn't." He smiles a little. The first you've seen all night.
"Thanks," he waves them in the air before retreating down the hall. The door shuts and the shower squeaks on.
The way you loved Steve was unconditional, as much as you wish it wasn't sometimes. Even when he was pushing you away, even when he kept things from you, you'd always be there for him. He didn't have anyone in his corner like that. And you wanted to be. It wasn't something you felt obligated to do. You cared about him, and so you went to him. He'd do the same if the roles were reversed. It was unconditional because even when being there for him hurt, you still stayed. You still loved.
When he comes back into your room, his hair dripping but clean, God, he feels clean, his face devoid of dried blood but bruised and wounded, you're waiting for him with a first aid kit and a fresh ice pack. You must've heard the water shut off and gotten everything ready for him. The old sweatpants and t-shirt smell more like you now than they do like him but he's not complaining in the slightest. Something about you keeping them instead of throwing them away or lighting them on fire makes him think maybe there's hope. Not that you had a bad break up to begin with, it was more sad than angry, nothing that warranted a clothes burning, but still. Still, still, still.
He sits down where you indicate, rubbing his towel across his head to soak up the sopping water. His face is flushed from the hot water. You sidle up next to him with the medicine and bandages and try not to get too caught up in him. He places the ice pack on his puffy, blackened eye. He doesn't get it, this gentleness. He doesn't think he deserves it, really. After everything, does he deserve it? Does he get this peace?
"You're fidgeting," you mutter, narrowly missing the spot you were aiming for.
"Oh, sorry," he lifts his chin up a bit more and tries to sit still. You're so patient and kind and it makes him ache a little. You take care of him and it's not for any reason other than you caring about him. He's not used to anyone caring about him. "Are you sure this is alright? You don't wanna... be alone?"
"No, I wanna make sure you're okay," you answer easily, as easy as breathing, swiping medicine across his wounds with the lightest touch you can manage. He hisses in pain, and you wince, feeling it, too.
"Are you sure? You don't have to."
"I want to, Steve, I promise." You pat his cheek, another gentle, affectionate maneuver from you. If he's okay, you're okay. He takes this in. He thinks he really feels his heart expanding.
As you start dabbing at his other wounds, you speak, finally. "Can I ask you something?"
"Of course you can," he replies, blinking up at you with his good eye.
"Was this..." you hesitate. He probably won't answer. "I don't doubt there was a fire but this..." you gesture to his face. "This looks a hell of a lot worse than just escaping a fire, Steve, you look seriously fucked up."
"What, you don't think I look pretty anymore?" He smiles again and you roll your eyes at him, but you smile back all the same.
"You're very pretty, Steve, but you have a black eye and there was blood all over your face and you're all cut up." He swoons just a little when you call him pretty. He's got an ego, what can he say? He continues smiling at you, a little high off painkillers, a little high off being here with you. If he's gotta be tortured he may as well get you back out of it.
"You look pretty, too, y'know," he says softly, his free hand twisting a strand of your hair around.
"Dodging the question I see," you raise your eyebrows at him but say nothing else. It was to be expected.
He takes a deep breath, looking up toward the ceiling, thinking maybe all this time he's just been stupid and silly for not telling you sooner, maybe he could've been with you all this time if he'd just told you, maybe it wouldn't have been the end of the world to have you involved. Maybe it would all be fine. "I wanted to keep you safe from all of it. See what happened to me? It could've been you, if you had been there."
"I would've wanted to be there with you," you insist. "You know I would."
"I do," he nods. "And that's why I don't involve you, babe, if something happens to me it doesn't matter to anyone but if something happens to you-"
"Why would you say that to me? You think I wouldn't care if you died?" You take his face in your hands, and he drops his ice pack. "Steve, are you an idiot? It would matter to those kids you spend all your time with if you died. It would matter to Robin, and to your family even if they take you for granted, and it would matter to me. I love you so much you moron, you can't say it wouldn't matter. I wouldn't be here if it didn't matter. I go out of my mind worrying about you, don't tell me you don't matter."
His head spins, in the best possible way. The pain from his wounds doesn't register. Your hands on his face registers. You words register. Everything else is background noise. "You still love me?"
Oh. Your face warms. It's not like it had been that long since you'd called it off, it should've have been a surprise to him, but hearing you say those words makes him light up. You see him light up. "Yeah, of course I do, it doesn't go away just 'cause you won't tell me anything about your life," you grumble, taking your hands off him.
"Hey," he whispers, grabbing for you before you can tear yourself away from him. He brushes the hair back from your face. He has that look in his eyes that make people fall to their knees. Heavy-lidded and tender. Soft. Loving. "I love you, okay? I do. That's why I try to protect you. I'll tell you anything you want." He knows it now, for real, that he can't lose you again. Not this time. "C'mere, come back." You let him pull you in. "I'll tell you anything, please don't leave me, okay?" You shake your head at him. Never, never. He's pleading, desperate. When he moves to kiss you, the desperation is laced in it, he's lurching forward and he's hungry and yearning and your lips meet soft and fast because he wants to savor it after so long.
The disconnect of your lips sends him reeling, he wants to dive back in for more, for more of everything, but you stop him. "It's me and you, okay, always. But you gotta let me all the way in this time." You tap his heart lightly. "All the way, Steve. Everything."
He leans back. He is hesitant and bruised and bloody, a little bit broken, but mostly he's in love. Mostly he wants to give you the world. So he takes your hands in his. He tethers himself to reality. And he talks.
#trying to convince myself posting is FOR FUN i don't have to want to VOM from nerves every time i go to post...#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington one shot#steve harrington fanfic#stranger things#stranger things x reader
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A gentleman
This is my gift to @lucyeyelesbarrow for the Pedrostories Secret Santa event💖
Pairing: bfd!Joel Miller x f!reader
Summary: Your boyfriend is a good guy, but he's not so good at sex, but thankfully, his dad makes up for it
Warnings: smut| Cheating, kinda exhibitionism, oral sex (f receiving), a bit of fingering, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, no use of y/n just overuse of pet names, no use of Joel either, just Mr. Miller and sir (so naturally we've got a bit of a sir kink).
a/n: babe you said slut by Taylor and i ran with it. also, this didn't turn out as good as I wanted, but nevertheless, I hope you'll like it. And huge thanks to @decembermidnight cause this idea is basically (completely) hers so give her some love or smth.
Jason was a good guy,
he was such a good guy, always so kind, always gentle and respectful... everything any girl could ever dream of, right?
wrong
He should have been, he really should have been the perfect man, but he wasn't.
He wasn't a man, he was just a boy
A really nice, sweet, cute boy that had just one, little, big problem... he fucked like one.
He fucked like he was scared of breaking you, actually, no he didn't fuck at all... he made love, which would have been fine... if it wasn't for the fact that he wasn't any good at it.
Every time you had sex he lasted no more than a few minutes (on his good days) and it was always just the same, always missionary, always slow and breathy and just not... right.
And it's not like you hadn't tried, god knows how many times you had, you tried changing positions, switching up his thrusting method, or even asking him to go down on you, but the outcome was always the same... you were left unsatisfied, every. single time.
You had even gone as far as starting to wonder if perhaps the problem was you, but then again every time you were alone everything worked just fine.
And as perfect as he was, there's only as much a girl can take.
You needed sex, the real kind, you needed to get fucked good, by a man who didn't need instructions, by someone who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted, by a man, you needed a real man.
And perhaps you'd always had one in mind.
You were in the kitchen, the fridge open, the cool air hardening your nipples, just a tiny white tank top on you, no bra, only a pair of panties.
You came down here to get a drink, but your focus had shifted to your fingers beneath your panties, drawing fast circles on your clit.
And yes it was pathetic, masturbating in a kitchen that wasn't even yours, but your body was desperate for that orgasm your boyfriend had deprived you of not even 10 minutes ago.
You were caging your bottom lip between your teeth, trying not to make a sound, but as all your emphasis went there, you must have stopped listening for anyone coming and missed the footsteps stomping down the stairs.
"I thought you'd be aslee-"
his eyes widened as he finally took you in
"shit I'm sorry darlin'-" he apologized, his eyes diverting a moment too late, only after they had taken you in completely, only after they had taken a good glimpse of your tits, and of the hand in your underwear.
To say you were red was an understatement.
He was there, the man you were just thinking of (although you had tried to refrain) was there, right in front of you, in all his broadness and glory, looking every bit of hot as ever,
him, your boyfriend's dad,
Mr. Miller had just caught you masturbating while standing in his kitchen.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't-I was just-I needed water and I-"
You finally rushed your trembling fingers out of your panties, your chest heaving and your voice breaking.
"No need to apologize sweetheart" he shook his head, his gaze finding yours "'s alright"
And although you were half naked, his eyes remained on yours.
Because that's how he was, that's how Mr. Miller was,
He was a gentleman,
In a world of boys, he was a gentleman.
Just like that time he caught you just out of the shower, just as every time he wouldn't let you open your own door, not on his watch, just as every dinner, every expense, every single thing, was his treat, and he didn't need a thank you, he did it because that's simply how he did things, how he'd been taught to treat women.
You watched each other for a moment, you panicking, him as calm as ever, and only after a good minute, did you finally feel brave enough to say something,
"I-I think I'll go-"
He frowned, "didn't you come here to get a drink?"
You swallowed, realizing your hands were empty "I-I did, you're right"
You opened the fridge again, and to the demise of your heart, he stepped closer, watching you like a hawk from above, and stealing all the air out of your lungs.
"What were you doing sweetheart?"
You swore you could have started crying right there and then.
Did he really just ask that?
Why the fuck would he ever ask that?
"I-I wasn't- I wasn't doing anything, Mr. Miller"
He tried to hide the smirk crawling on his lips, but a shadow of it still appeared
"now we both know that ain't true, darlin'" he smiled, as you took a bottle of water and closed the fridge to try and keep your brain occupied by something else other than this fucking man.
You took a deep breath, looking up at him.
Your bottom lip was between your front teeth, and with his thumb, he freed it, his hand lingering on your chin.
"there's no need to be shy" he murmured, his voice as sweet as honey "I just wanna help"
And as always, as always his touch melted you completely, like ice in the August sun.
"M-Mr. Miller-"
"yes, doll?"
only hearing him call you that made your breathing hitch.
"I..."
"just tell me," his voice was as low and hot as it could be "I won't judge"
And then, for some reason, you did, You told him the truth.
maybe he had put a spell on you, or maybe, just maybe, you would have done anything this man asked for.
"I was- I was touching myself"
But of course he knew, you could see it all over his face as he nodded, his eyes now a shade darker.
"and why's that?" he asked, stepping an inch closer,
you took a step back to get out of his penetrating aura, just to realize he had confined you between the table and his body with nowhere else to go.
"my son's just upstairs" he continued, his eyes scrutinizing every inch of your face "Couldn't he have helped with that?"
You gulped as his fingers gently moved some hair out of your face, making you shiver altogether
"I know if I were him, I would want nothing more than to do just that" he murmured "I would want to pleasure you in any way I could" and then, as if he'd gotten back to himself, to the respectful gentleman you'd always known, he dropped his hand, "so why were you touching yourself, sweetheart?"
What were you supposed to say?
That his son couldn't do it?
That in 3 months of dating, he'd made you come a total of 0 times?
Now that's not really a conversation you wanted to have with his father, was it?
"I was just- I- I don't know Mr. Miller" you lied
But he saw right through you, his head shaking in disapproval
"but you do know, doll" he urged "There's gotta be a reason"
And then it clicked.
He knew. Somehow he fucking knew.
"I-I-" you stuttered "It's just that Jason... he- he can't-"
but you couldn't end that sentence, how could you ever?
So of course, he did it for you.
"He can't make you come"
And the darkness was back again, the gentleman long gone.
"ain't that right?"
You could only offer a shy nod
"a pretty thing like you..." he murmured, his breath tickling your skin as he leaned closer, "and he's not taking care of you..." he tsked "Now that's a shame"
his hands were on your waist, holding you in place.
"I thought I'd taught him how to treat a woman... guess I was wrong" he shook his head "I mean look at you," he murmured "he should be making you come until you can't take it anymore"
"Mr. Miller-" you whimpered
"yes sugar"
"please" you begged, not exactly knowing for what
"Please what?" he asked, his right hand stroking your sides "you want somethin' from me?"
"I-I" you stumbled over your own words, not knowing how to get them out "Could you- could you please do it?"
He smirked properly at that, his left hand lowering down your belly
"do what?"
"you know" you breathed "You know what"
He inhaled your scent, his eyes still focused on yours "Say it" he ordered "Say it and I'll do it"
And what could you have done, if not exactly what he'd just said
"Please Mr. Miller" you pleaded "please make me come"
His fingers were beneath your panties before you could get another word out.
"Ah-" you gasped
"shhh" he shushed you, "Don't worry darlin'" he murmured "I'm here, I'll take care of you" he said, his big hand cupping your whole pussy
"look at that" he grinned, his mouth ghosting yours "she's already wet f'me”
A gasp fled your throat again as his finger seeped between your folds, gathering your slick and teasing your hole just to travel up to your clit
“Mmm” he hummed “so wet doll” he shook his head, smiling devilishly “are you always like this for me?” he asked, “For your boyfriend’s father?“
And although the fact that you could feel his hard cock against your thighs made that taunt more than a little hypocritical, you still couldn’t help but feel a little ashamed.
“Answer me” he urged, his lips now grazing yours
“Yes” you confessed, your voice nothing more than a whisper “I-I am Mr. Miller”
He groaned at that
He knew it was wrong, that everything about this was wrong, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about this, if he said hearing you call him Mr. Miller with that sweet voice of yours every day didn't make his cock half hard, if he said that from the moment he met you, he hadn't been jealous of his own son.
"here's how this is gonna work sweetheart" he breathed, his fingers gripping the edge of your panties "I'm gonna taste you now... because fuck me, but I need to-" he explained, slowly lowering your underwear "And you..." he smiled, your panties suddenly on the ground "you're gonna be a good girl and stay quiet"
His lips lowered from right next to your ear, onto your pulse point
"Can you do that f'me?"
A little squeak left your mouth, and a deep chuckle rumbled from his chest
"Can you be a good girl f'me, doll?"
You didn't trust yourself with words, so all you did was nod
"good" he hummed, his lips on your clavicle "Now get on the table"
And so you did, you hopped on the table, and he kneeled before you, his hands on your thighs.
"Spread your legs sugar" he said, having you obliging immediately
A soft appreciative sound erupted from his throat.
"prettiest pussy I've ever seen" he purred, leaning closer to it "on the prettiest girl I've ever seen"
Your belly was moving up and down in sync with your erratic breathing, but he didn't seem to care, his only focus was between your legs.
he looked as if he did this every day, as if fucking his son's girlfriend was an everyday thing.
He started off slow, his lips meeting the inside of your thighs, then your mound, then your lips, and then, just when you felt a moment away from bursting, his tongue came to play, as he licked between your folds without care, groaning in pleasure at the taste of you.
"Delicious" he hummed "You're fucking delicious doll" he looked at you, continuing to do so even when his hands gripped your thighs, and his talented muscle teased your hole, making you gasp and forcing your right hand to his hair.
"Does he do this?" he couldn't stop himself from asking "Does he eat this pretty pussy sweetheart?"
"n-no" you managed to whisper as he continued his work, now savoring you entirely while deliberately avoiding your clit.
"Now that's just wrong," he said, his eyes unfocusing from yours and lowering to your heat for a moment "look at that" he murmured, watching mesmerized as your juices drenched his mouth "I could eat this pussy for every meal"
And that was it, he was done with teasing all of a sudden, his lips were on your clit, sucking it deliciously as fingers you didn't even notice having gone from your leg thrust into you with ease.
"O-Oh s-shit" you moaned, although trying not to do so.
"quiet sweetheart" he shushed you, going back to his work in a moment
His fingers were now curling upwards, finding that spot that made you see stars like he knew your body better than yourself, or certainly, better than his son.
His tongue was alternating between lapping at your clit and sucking on it, and he expected you to not make a sound? now that was just impossible.
"oh my god" you gripped his hair, his fingers speeding up "o-oh my god-Mr. Miller- i-it feels so good"
"I know it does" he answered "I can feel it, sweetheart"
And then he was back at work, and as you watched enchanted how perfect he looked between your thighs, his hair a mess, his eyes so dark they didn't even seem brown anymore... you felt it, you felt the orgasm approach faster than it ever had, embarrassingly fast one could say, but then again, it certainly wasn't your fault, Mr. Miller knew what he was doing.
"I-I think-" you cried
"I know" he didn't need you to finish "Let go f'me, doll"
And so you did, you bit your lip and threw your head back as an orgasm powerful enough to kill you took over your body, leaving you a whimpering, wobbly mess.
"fucking delicious" he groaned, selfishly licking your core once again before he was back up to you, watching as you breathed heavily into the air.
"felt good?"
"yeah," you smiled mindlessly "felt amazing Mr. Miller"
"good enough to want another one?"
You didn't need to think twice
"yes" you breathed, one of your arms going between his neck as you begged him, while the other found the bulge in his boxers "please" you swallowed "Please fuck me"
"you want my cock?" he asked, already freeing it from his briefs "is that it?"
"yes," you whimpered,
"how much?"
"a lot" you promised "I want it so much Mr. Miller, please"
"yeah?" he taunted, positioning it at your entrance
"yeah-" you managed before he had pushed into you, making such a feeling erupt in you that you forgot all about your boyfriend upstairs and cried loudly because fuck it, but he was so fucking big.
His hand covered your mouth before you had even realized what had happened.
"I thought you said you were gonna be good"
Your eyes widened as your pussy still tried to accommodate the importance of him
A muffled "I'm sorry" made it to his ears
"I wouldn't wanna have to stop"
"no" you begged immediately "no please don't stop" You shook your head, so desperate you would have felt pathetic if it wasn't that you weren't thinking about anything anymore besides your pleasure, besides him, besides this, whatever it was.
"if I take this off you you'll be quiet?" he asked, nodding to his hand
"yes," you nodded "yes, sir, please"
Sir?
Fuck
If his cock could have gotten harder it would have.
"alright then" he conceded, taking his hand away "Can I move sweetheart?"
"mh-mh" you hummed, nodding eagerly
a soft grin spread over his face at that, but before you could fully take in the beauty of it, of him, of his patchy salt and pepper beard and pink lips, he had done as you asked, and started moving
"fuck" you whimpered "y-you're so big"
The implication behind your words hit you only after having pronounced them, but he was kind enough not to comment on it.
"and yet you're taking me all like a good girl" he groaned "taking all of my cock inside this tight little pussy of yours"
His right hand got rid of your tank top, pulling it down until your boobs spilled from it so he could grab and grope at them freely while his thrusts got faster, and somehow, somehow even fucking deeper, and you were just- god you were in another universe, and right when you shut your eyes, your forehead falling to his in bliss, another moan escaped you, and his hand found your lips again
"What did I tell you sweetheart?" he grunted, his pace not slowing down "I need you to stay quiet" he explained again "I need you to be good and not make a sound so I can fuck you like you nee-"
"Babe?"
Your heart skipped a beat.
It was his voice, your boyfriend's voice, coming from upstairs
"babe, is everything alright?"
Your eyes widened and his movements stopped as you stared into each other's eyes for a moment
What do I do? What do I do? what the fuck do I do?
"answer him," Joel said, freeing your mouth without any further explanation.
"I-" you mumbled
"do it sweetheart, or he's gonna come down here, and I don't think either of us want that"
And so of course, you did
"I-I'm fine!" you yelled
"are you sure?"
And just when you were about to answer, his fingers materialized on your clit, circling it.
You gasped, widening your eyes at him
"answer" he commanded, not stopping, the opposite actually, starting his thrusts again "Answer him doll"
"b-but"
"just do it" he murmured "Tell him you're sure"
You gulped, breathing heavily,
"I'm sure!"
"Ok"
And just like that, as if it were a miracle, Jason stopped his questioning, and you hid your face into the crook of Joel's neck, biting his skin as his pace fastened again, making that fucking feeling his son couldn't create take over your whole belly again.
"Mr Miller- oh my god" you cried, actual tears threatening to spill your eyes at the feeling
"shh" he cooed "I know sweetheart I know" he felt your walls tighten around him as the fingers in your hair gripped his locks harder "there we go," he grunted, his cock so deep inside of you you could feel it in your belly "that's all you needed wasn't it?" he asked " for someone to abuse this little pussy" he groaned, "for me, for me to fuck you like you deserve"
his lips were just before yours, not even an inch distancing you from a kiss, and yet, you weren't gonna cross that line, not today.
"yes" you moaned lowly "yes sir, yes"
"fuck" he groaned "you feel so good sweetheart, squeezing me so good... such a good girl"
"oh" you moaned, back into his neck "s-shit"
"'s ok" he purred, his fingers and hips working relentlessly to destroy you completely "'s ok sweetheart just-"
"Babe, can you bring me some water too?"
And if before Joel had stopped, it wasn't even remotely in his plans now. There you were, on the verge of an orgasm, and he was supposed to stop? no fucking way
He did the opposite, he started going harder, the table shifting on the floor.
You gasped and moaned before you finally freed your mouth from your neck, clinging to him as you answered
"Yes!" you screamed, hoping the pure pleasure behind your words wouldn't be hearable "Yes! I-I'm c-coming!"
"Yeah" he groaned into your ear "Yeah you are sweetheart" he purred, completely drowning out whatever response Jason gave you "Now give it to me, come all over my cock like a good girl"
And just like that, white pure bliss washed over you, and for a moment you were somewhere else, heaven, or hell more probably, but another universe for sure.
And you only came back when Joel's grunts sounded in your ears, when his thrusts got more sloppy, when you answered the words "Where do you want it?" with a simple "inside", and then finally, you fully came back to earth when he did, when he filled you up to the brim, remaining still deep inside you so none of it went to waste.
"fuck" he groaned after a while, finally pulling out of you to meet your eyes.
"Mr. Miller-"
You were waiting for the guilt to take over you, but somehow, for whatever reason, it still hadn't, and he felt exactly the same
"Babe?"
"shit" you gasped, getting off the table to put your panties back on.
"you need to go doll" Joel murmured, helping you put your tank top back into place
"Mr. Miller..." you murmured, your voice as shaky as your legs "I've got your come running down my thighs"
A soft smirk pulled at his lips
"should have thought of that before you said you wanted it inside" he taunted, his hands on your waist "or before you decided to touch yourself in my kitchen, sweetheart"
#pedrostoriesgift23#pedrostories#joel miller#joel miller smut#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fluff#joel miller x fem!reader#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x you#smut#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#fluff#joel miller imagine#joel miller blurb#joel miller angst#fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us hbo#tlou hbo
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Hii~ I have a reqq ❤️❤️
Soo basically the reader asks them a random dirty question, for example ‘would you eat me out in public for a million dollars?’ in an attempt to make them embarrassed however the turns are tabled and the character ends up making the reader blush and get all flustered instead?
Fem/gn reader and with kazuha, albedo, lyney, and xiao? Tyy I love all ur works aaaa ❤️❤️❤️
When I tell you this request has me screaming and kicking my feet in excitement, omg thank you and I hope you enjoy!!
(also you're so sweet, have a cookie 🍪)
─⊰💕𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤💕⊰─
{༻~Would you?~༺}
Genre: Suggestive! MDNI! NSFW!
CW: GN! Afab Reader, dirty talk, teasing and everything takes place in public!
(Includes: Lyney, Albedo, Kazuha and Xiao!)
𑁍༄Lyney:
"Hey, Lyney...would you eat me out in public for a million dollars?"
You smiled slyly at him, waiting for his face to blush at how risky your question was. I mean you were in public, people sat all around you delighting in their food and you'd just asked him something so flustering.
"Oh ho ho, Mon amour, I'd eat you out in public for nothing at all, I mean everyone else is digging into their favourite treats...why can't I~" He leaned his head in his hand, smirking at you with this teasing look in his bright eyes while your cheeks flushed..was he licking his lips too..
𑁍༄Albedo:
"Hmm Albedo, what would you do if I asked you to throw me on this table and ruthlessly fuck me in front of all these people?"
You giggled at him mischievously, looking around the crowded area and wondering what his response was going to be. Would he hide his face in embarrassment? Blush like a tomato? Would he get turned on and need to excuse himself? The possibilities were endless.
"Are you asking? Because I'm now one short answer from throwing you on the table my love~" He looked at you amused, his smile knowing and his fingers tapping against the soft skin of your hand as you suddenly felt flustered. Would...would he really..
𑁍༄Kazuha:
"Kazu, what do you think everyone would do if I pulled down your pants and started riding you like I needed it more then anything else?"
You looked at him innocently, acting like you hadn't just asked a question that left you needing to push your thighs together. It wasn't really that bad, just a thought you'd had and wanted to share, maybe it wouldn't make him flustered to no end like you'd planned...but you doubted it.
"I will be honest with you my dear, I don't really care what everyone else would do. If you needed me, I'd be happy to oblige, no matter who was watching, with you on me there's only one thing on my mind~" He looked at you with a soft smile and despite the dirty meaning in his words, he didn't change tone once...he really would only be focused on you and your body after all..
𑁍༄Xiao:
"Xiao...if I asked nicely, would you lay on the park bench while I rode your face and screamed your name?"
You batted your eyes at him, watching his reaction closely as people hurried past the two of you and pretended not to hear what you asked. It was a pretty crowded park and it was definitely not out of earshot...so you were hoping it would be enough to fluster the mighty Yaksha.
"Do you promise that I can fuck you on it after?~" He turned to face you, his tongue sliding across his teeth as smirked at you. Your breath caught at the sight and he chuckled, "Well do you, hurry and answer, cause I'm hungry as is~"
ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚~Have a nice day!~*.✧
#genshin headcanons#genshin fanfic#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin smut#lyney smut#lyney x you#lyney x reader#lyney headcanons#albedo smut#albedo x you#albedo x reader#albedo headcanons#kazuha smut#kazuha x reader#kazuha x you#kazuha headcanons#xiao x you#xiao x reader#xiao smut#xiao headcanons
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DAY 26 — DEGRADATION
kinktober 2023. — masterlist | ao3
𖧡 — including — scaramouche, dottore, pantalone
𖧡 — warnings — fem! reader, degradation, very toxic + scary + power imbalance, manipulation, cowgirl, the pantalone part gives a little sugar daddy vibes but the real toxic kind, name calling: filthy, disgusting
𖧡 — SCARAMOUCHE
"you'd be nothing without me,"
when scaramouche has been worshipped by you, endlessly to his satisfaction with all of your heart, his whole body stretches over your own as he watches how you succumb into his cold frame, and he cannot help himself but press his erection into you immediately, without a condom, utterly raw to the brim— despite the fact that he had promised himself to not give you that sort of alleviation tonight.
instead, he greedily scatters his hands down to your sides and nestles his head against your neck to bite the reactive flesh, smirking with his tongue lolled out, and he had you under him exposed— wanting you to remember this for a long time.
you feel boneless, almost, like an empty shell who was alive only to blend pleasure into the man's damaged soul, and even though he had never said anything nice to you, something deep inside of your body hoped for that he least liked you just a little bit.
because you believe you have fallen for him, painfully and helplessly, it's comparable to an ongoing explosion inside of you whenever you think about scaramouche or fantasize about how he was touching you for that matter.
"and you can never leave," he whispers cruelly, but wouldn't meet your gaze, "say it, that you'll never leave,"
he was restless, fucking his cock in and out with the same pace rolling against your swollen spots, his thrusts designed to have his shaft imbedded within your walls, so you could feel him even when he pulls himself out. before you know it, scaramouche adds an additional amount of strength to his blows and fucks you like he hates you, which me might, and you cry out in between harsh gasps, though it comes out more like a seizing gag than a moan.
it stings a little too, and you throw your head back when he presses his erection into you so desperately hard that you can sense the reactions from your head to your toes, your head dizzy with fatigue, muscles continuously twitching and turning from the cruel pace, you squint, slightly scared, a subdued expression manifesting across your facial features as you debate on your next answer, uttering it out at last,
"n-no, i'd never leave.. you kuni."
𖧡 — DOTTORE
a deluge of electricity crumbles inside your nerves and muscles with static and searing pleasure, and you sob uncontrollably at the overstimulation that dottore never failed to place on you— and a writhe falls from your mouth as you take in deep breaths to steady yourself, your noises echoing through the room ever so sinfully when he kisses the hot flesh on your neck.
"don't enjoy yourself too much," he chuckles wetly, "you're not here for your pleasure, but mine," and for some reason unbeknownst to you, it sounded more like a clear threat than an actual joke to break the ice, yet dottore continued his hips on you while wrapping his arms tighter around your body, mouthing a couple kisses over your neck— while you, lost in sensation, had almost forgotten that he wasn't one to be all dreamy about.
dottore found himself a little too transfixed by the sight of your cunt pulling his cock in and out of your tight core, too skillfully almost, if he hadn't trained you so well, it's utterly perfected in his eyes— and those whines, sobs and squeals on how you're trying your hardest to keep him all inside, without actually telling him that the hefty amount of his length in you would probably rip you to shreds at some point.
he was just that deliciously big, and you cannot help yourself but wince out his name before clenching down hard, bracing yourself for more leverage as you fuck your hips up faster to meet his thrusts half way.
with half dazed eyes, you question yourself, "there's no way this is save" you ponder and ponder, but fuck, it does feel pretty good, he does make you scream when he pretends to worship your body with his subtle traces and wet kisses— even though you were utterly aware that this was just a convenience to him, to have someone he could always rely on whenever the ache in his boxers would become too turbulent to ignore.
dottore breathes out, hot from the back of his throat as he lowers the speed on you, and right before the daze of a climax approaching, he speaks to you;
"pathetic," dottore slowly strokes his thumb over your doused cheek while the sharp sting of a fingernail made you shiver, a spasm sliding from your walls and battering all over his cock as he continues, silently parting his lips, holding the tension in between you in a compressed grasp and evidently presenting his control before whispering, "—yet i just might let you live, dear."
𖧡 — PANTALONE
you want to stay on my good side, don't you? want to get spoiled by me,"
pantalone likes to make you breathless and drool over his cock— yet what he treasured even more was to show you were you truly belong and never distance yourself from. the reason to that being because of what he was doing to you, purchasing and gifting you lavish presents and funding you a pricy place to live your life in— despite that, in return he demands a certain treatment, a dangerous exchange that would sometimes appear to be unfair if you were to think about it for more than two seconds, at least.
he was thrusting his hips up into your warmth that the more pleasure he got out of you, would manifest across the lingering glow of your facial expression and lolled out tongue. in a way, you noticed how far gone, he himself, had gotten from your cunt hungrily devouring his shaft, holding him close while being intimate with you.
with the room growing in hotness at each new thrust, the sheets damped underneath your moving bodies, you squeal out and look so cute just gushing around his length while dripping of cum, still being stretched out all nicely with a tear stained face glowing all pretty and obedient.
"i don't even need to get you ready," he laughs, his thrusts burning both inside and out, fast and rough on your bristling skin, "you're so filthy— it's almost disgusting, dear," he continues, his voice rich on husk and gravel as his cock touches deep into you, his tip precisely passing at your swelling pleasure spot until your legs fly up the more his pace increased.
"y-you're mean," you squeal, and at your words, pantalone's expression replaces itself with a much sinister color, while now, his fingers slowly reach your chin, his hips stuttering before haltering completely as his sly hums make you clench hard around his shaft, his eyes meeting yours full of menace.
"huh? listen close to me," the grip on your chin gets tighter and before you know it, you flinch a little, even though this activity is something you've done with him multiple times, the intensity of now, this particular night, was driving you equally crazy and frightened, not knowing what to do nor how to behave.
"—you spend my money as you please, do as you please," he swallows before kissing your forehead, so softly you barely feel his lips touch your skin, the atmosphere although remained sinister and cruel that it gave the impression away that even pantalone had no idea on how to express his genuine emotions.
yet, the harbinger will not appear weak, not anymore, not ever again,
"so you will never have any room, my dear, to complain about how i talk to you."
©2023 anantaru's kinktober do not repost, copy, translate, modify
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin smut#genshin impact smut#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche smut#dottore x reader#dottore smut#pantalone x reader#pantalone smut#genshin x you#genshin impact x you#scaramouche x you#wanderer smut#wanderer x reader#genshin impact drabbles#dottore x you#kinktober
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Heartless Pt.2
Mafia Boss! Miguel O’Hara x fem! reader
You and Miguel are married to each other…and it wasn’t because of love.
I heart slowburn x
You idled on where you could go for your honeymoon. At least Miguel gave you the twisted liberty of choosing where you could go, you didn't even care enough to want to go to nice places anymore. Why was he trying to drag this out with a honeymoon? Neither of you wanted it, yet Miguel always valued whatever his Consigliere had to say, you weren't going to take one of your few chances to argue with him over something so minuscule, you were saving your rage and confusion for the things that would matter in the future. Maybe somewhere warm, maybe Italy or France or something. You wondered what Mexico would be like since Miguel is half Mexican, you wondered if a part of his family were settled there too- you had to admit, you were curious if the apple fell far from the tree. You immediately dismissed this misplaced curiosity, you didn"t know Miguel well enough yet and he would probably have your head on a spike if you even mentioned it. Miguel's brother Gabriel came into the penthouse to pick up a few things and you told him that you wanted to go to Italy, Gabriel said he'd pass that along to Miguel's pilot.
It was getting dark out and Miguel said you'd fly out tonight but he still wasn't back. You hadn't seen Miguel since breakfast, you probably ruffled his feathers just by challenging him minutely. All you did today was get ready, did up your hair, splashed on some makeup, wear one of the dresses he gave you, and sat around. You were bored out of your mind, if this was what married life would be like, you would be very irritable and uncooperative indeed. You couldn't back out now, being bored was better than being dead.
You took this eventless time to wander around this penthouse, one of his capos told you he owned many but this was one of the nicer ones, it was quiet, serene. You spent this day with one of Miguel's lackeys stationed outside of the door and Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes, AKA the maid, but you actively avoided her.
It was a nice place to live in, expensive and clean, but it felt...empty, even with people in and outs mavbe it was just the lack of Miguel that was making you feel this way. Your heels clicked around and your eyes squinted towards Miguels study.
Should you...? You'd probably get a shot to the kneecap at least for meddling with Miguel's private affairs. Your fingers wandered to the handle tentatively, your curiosity outweighed your fear. It would be a stupid mistake, yes, but if Miguel wasn't going to be here now, he definitely wouldn't be around later, so you had time to snoop and pretend you weren't there.You opened the door and your eyes shot around, he was such a neat freak, but there were bits of paper strewn on his desk. His desk was dark oak, it was almost black, his desk chair was real black leather too, and the warm ambient lights offered some sort of atmosphere where he could work. You strolled softly behind his desk to look at the loose papers. The first one was marriage papers, the official documents to your betrothal, the other one was the NDA you signed and the last one was...an entire background check on you. You sifted through the paper and there were pictures of you walking around on the streets of New York, you clutched onto it, your eyes narrowing at the words you were reading on the page.
It had your bank details.
Your clothing measurements.
Your GPA.
The earnings of your parent's company.
Every ex-boyfriend you've ever had
The shops you go to.
Your favourite food.
Quite literally everything about you.
He ran a background check on you and had someone follow you around before you got engaged. You frowned at the paper. You set it down and sighed, taking a minute to consolidate what you had just read. Raking a hand through your hair, you walked around his desk and stole a glance at the walls- you couldnt believe you missed what he hung up on the walls. You inched forward to inspect the Renaissance paintings that covered the room, he even had a real Caravaggio, Lord knows how much it cost. Then you shifted towards a picture that wasn't a painting. It was of Miguel and his brother when they were about teenagers, embracing each other for the camera after a presumably long day of playing sports or something like that- but what really stunted you was that he was smiling. You don't think you've ever seen Miguel smile at all.
What you didn’t realise was that Miguel was at home, trying to find you in the penthouse.
He knew he was an hour late but he was held up by some important consultations. His brow raised when out of the corner of his eye, he found the door to his study open which was very odd- it was always left closed, he should probably invest in a lock. His fingers opened it up sottly and there he found you, snooping around his study like a second-rate degenerate criminal, but when he found you, you were gawking at the art on his walls. You were absorbed in the paintings, in a trance akin to that of a dream, he almost didn't want to disturb you, You were wearing a slinky black strapless dress that hugged you just right, it stopped just below the knee, your skin was glowing in the ambient light, the heels on your feet making you look taller, but not as tall as him. He liked that he had the choice to power over you.
He had the sentiment he always had when he looked at you: you looked nice.
“Enjoying your prying?” A low irritated voice husked behind you, you turned around and yelped in surprise, your chest heaved at the shock of seeing him right here, in a place you had no business being in. You were dead already. You winced when your eyes met his, he seemed amused and annoyed all at once as you gaped at him at the doorway. He was so….so…clean and smart but his sleeves were rolled up and a few buttons were undone, he ditched his tie as you saw it in his hand. You swallowed thickly.
“I'm fine.”You seemed to muster up, unsure of what else to say, You had to admit, you were a little afraid but you would rather die than show that. You weren't sure what was going to fall out of his mouth, probably a verbal tongue-lashing. “Caravaggio? His paintings are rather dark.” You couldn't help but comment on it, of course, he would have refined taste, not just in anything business-related but also something as cultural as art.
“Isn't that what's fascinating about it?” Miguel grumbled, hoping you wouldn't hear him. It was a bright, keen and astute observation. You pursed your lips and stayed silent whilst crossing your arms. “I don't want you in here.” He clipped coldly as he finally made his way to approach you, he stole a look towards his desk and found that a few papers had been messed with. So you know about it now.
“I don't want you having your capos stalk me.” You bit back shrewdly with challenging eyes and Miguel raised an eyebrow a little, just enough for you to notice from the corner of your eye. Touche, dick.
“I have to know how I'm working with.” He said so emotionless, so flatly. Like everything was about business, like neither of you was actual people with feelings.
“Well, I don't know who I'm working with, so you're not fighting fair.” You inched forward to him as you let out with a strained breath. Unfortunately for him, your statement made him think.
“You won't have to and you're right, I don't fight fair.”
“I told Gabriel I want to go to Italy, by the way.” You pivoted the subject around and Miguel was internally pleased that you did.
“Portofino is nice this time of year.” He commented briskly, again, reverting back as if you were mere acquaintances discussing destination spots and the fucking weather. It still left a bitter taste in his mouth.
-
You packed quickly and Miguel's driver took all your bags as you were about to head out of the front door. You weren't really paying attention as Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes was all over Miguel again, talking to him about what needed to be done the time both of you came back. You didn't know why you didn't like her, it was probably because she was so obvious about it, she was practically drooling over your husband as if you weren't here.
He was your husband. Whether you liked it or not. When she glanced over at you, you raked a tuft of hair behind your ear, your wedding ring on full display as you did so, she definitely noticed it with the way her face settled into a scowl.
It didn't take long until you were both in the back seat of Miguel's lamp-black Porsche, completely silent to the drive to the airstrip that Miguel owned. You blinked out the window, watching the bright city lights blur into colors against the dark of night, well-mannered in your straight posture and crossed legs. Miguel took a second to contemplate your presence, he almost hated how well-behaved you were. A small fraction of him wanted to see you get messy, preferably under him. He shook the defiant out of his head with a scowl, staring out of his own window in response. There was this thick tension between you, this sustaining of a non-existent friendship, trying to keep the conversation simple and polite between you and the man you barely knew anything about.
He did his research but your parents did their own- they didn't let you get involved even though you were the one they were marrying off.
It felt like forever in the car, Miguel escorted you out like a...gentleman. Watching you sway so confidently up the stairs to his private jet. He had a full view of your ass in that dress he liked, he didn't know how to feel about it so he just breathed deeply instead. Miguel followed you up, stepping into the cool, crystalized plush leather of the plane. Jesus, the amount of money he spent on this is probably uncountable, just thinking about it made your head ache. Miguel watched as you were awed at the interior, he had a slight feeling of contempt at your reaction, like you didn't think your lifestyle would change into this. He makes this kind of money every minute. He was a very wealthy man. He could afford 20 of these if he wanted to. You needed to stop being so surprised and get used to shit like this.
You thought that Miguel would probably want to sit the furthest away from you, he was distant like that but a flash of confusion covered your face when you found him sitting next to you as he did up his seatbelt.
So close.
The proximity was...different. So different.
“Good evening, Mr. O'hara.” Before you knew it a soft sensual voice in front of you pierced through your absent-minded thoughts. Oh, of course. Another insanely beautiful woman worked for him. She took out a single glass and pulled out a 100-year-old Merlot. Her perfectly tailored uniform clung to her so tightly it was like glue. Of course, he had a gorgeous flight attendant. Of course. It shouldn't bother you, but for some reason it did. “How was your night...with your friend here?” She glanced to the side at you, finally realizing that it wasn't just her and Miguel in the plane, so they couldn't exactly fuck like dogs. Her face scrunched into a condescending smile, looking you up and down. It was obvious she was defeated but she concealed it behind bright eyes. Why did every single woman who worked for him want to fuck him? It was honestly galling.
“She's my wife.” Miguel said thickly, his voice held a certain gravitas, and his tone was clipped, almost like he was annoyed. The revelation seemed to get to Little Miss Fuck Me Eyes Number 2, her face dropped and it honestly made you feel better. “And yes, we had a good night, thank you. Please get another glass for us please.” It was almost like he was politely laying into her.
“Of course, Mr O'Hara.” She smiled softly as she whisked away to get another glass.
Miguel wanted to roll his eyes. Yeah, yeah baby, keep dreaming he wanted to say. He really didn't like it when people gawked at him, especially the women who worked for him. It wasn't him who employed all these objectively beautiful women, it was Gabriel and he was extremely biased. He doesn't fuck his staff. Well, he can't because he's a married man. Married to you. A beautiful woman who he just can't figure out. Even though, he had all the info he could get about you...the way you talked to him, and the way you acted around him was confusing. You were so puzzling and he wanted to uncover the secrets that you held, how messy you could actually get behind this complacent good girl agenda.
His eyes flickered to you and it was obvious you were lost in your own little world. He looked at your lap and noticed that you weren't wearing your seatbelt, before his mind could even check it, his hands reached out for your seatbelt.
You almost jumped into your seat when you realized where his hands were, he was leaning towards you, close enough where you could fully smell his deep and rich cologne. He did your seatbelt and without hesitation, tightened it harshly with one tug, you gasped softly at the unexpected action. Woah. His hands were...big.
“Make sure you don't die a day after your wedding day.” He muttered just above a whisper. You let out a gentle cough and resumed your 'respectable' position, pretending like it didn't affect you whatsoever.
Miguel wanted you to be affected by him, maybe so he could intimidate you. But after just a short few days together and many moments of where you should be intimidated by him- you weren't. It was as refreshing as it was unsettling. He could have you affected by him in another way…maybe sexual tension would do the trick in breaking this facade you had up... He contemplated the idea but then ultimately rejected it as quickly as it came.
He can't fraternize with you.
This was merely a business transaction.
He wanted this as clean as possible.
No feelings. No fucking up.
He would never get involved. He won't do it.
He’s done too much to stop now.
-
taglist (giggles): @deputy-videogamer @aisyakirmann
#spiderman 2099#miguel o’hara angst#miguel o’hara smut#miguel ohara#atsv miguel#miguel o’hara#miguel o’hara fluff#miguel o’hara x reader#across the spiderverse#miguel o'hara
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get him back! 💘
warnings: vulgar language, smut (p in v, missionary, unprotected sex, cunnilingus), jealous!chris, use of 'y/n', etc.
summary: in which chris was just a summer fling that you couldn't get enough of, and neither could he.
pairing: fem!reader × christopher sturniolo
a/n: literally jumped at the fact that i got to participate in @annamcdonalds67 's writing challenge! first ever comp i've been in🫶🏼 also there's a huge timeskip in this, sooo...
_____________
SUMMER 2023 , day 30
"chris, you can't burp in public places. seriously." you sighed, continuing to walk alongside the boy in the mall.
"why not? it's not hurting anyone," he grumbled, swaying the bag in his freehand back and forth.
"because that's not polite, chris." you swore you were talking to a child sometimes.
chris rolled his eyes, who were you to tell him it wasn't polite?
"fuck, you argue with me about everything." you muttered, giving his hand a gentle squeeze.
chris hadn't heard, and even if he had, he wouldn't answer. his full attention was on some girl talking to her friends. his wandering eyes had always failed him.
her hair was dark, long, and her lips were so full he wished he could--
"chris," your voice pulled him out of his trance, his head quickly snapping toward you.
"yeah?" he smiled softly.
"i'm gonna go to the bathroom, then we can leave." chris nodded, his mind already going back to the girl from earlier.
as soon as you disappeared behind the doors, chris was making his way to the brunette and her friends.
"hey," chris smiled, eyes trained on the brunette.
"hi?" she smiled awkwardly, nudging her friends and making them leave.
"sorry, didn't wanna make your friends leave just now, i just saw you from across the store and... you're really pretty." he said, his smile fading to a smirk.
the girl laughed, "thank you, but seriously? not even gonna ask my name?"
"shit, sorry! what was your name?" he chuckled, eyes going down to her lips.
"chloe," she replied, crossing her arms over each other.
chris nodded, "pretty name for a pretty girl. i'm chris, nice to meet you."
"nice to meet you, as well. uh, sorry, weird question," chris hummed, urging her to continue.
"how tall are you?" chloe smiled sweetly, eyeing chris up and down.
"six-foot-two," chris lied, biting the inside of his cheek.
your hand on his shoulder was what caught his attention, "nice try, chris."
he turned around, his cheeks flushing of embarrassment as he stared down at you, "hey, y/n."
ignoring him, you looked over at chloe, giving her an awkward smile before pushing past chris.
"i'm sorry about him. and i assure you that he's not six-foot-two." you sighed, flashing her another quick smile before dragging chris out of the mall.
chris stayed silent as you scolded him in the car, was he serious?
"you are so embarrassing chris, and, god, you need to get yourself in check. flirting with another girl while dating me? seriously?" you scoffed, driving out of the parking lot.
you should've left him a long time ago, honestly, but he was so much fun and he had such weird friends.
and plus, he would take out you and your friends to parties every other night. they were always a good time, it felt as if they never ended.
"i'm sorry, ma," he muttered, placing his hand on your thigh and gently squeezing it.
"i can make it up to you tonight. me, nate, and a couple other friends are going out to a club," chris said quietly, a smile growing on his face.
you stayed silent. even if the invitation did sound nice, you were still pissed at chris.
"c'mon, don't be like that, ma. i know you want to." he muttered, his thumb running over your thigh softly.
fuck it, it was just one night without talking about your feelings. plus, you needed something fun to do, "fine."
chris smiled brightly, "y'know i learned some new dance moves."
rolling your eyes playfully, you nudged the boy, "shut up, chris."
SUMMER 2023 , day 42
"i mean, maybe if you stopped being such a bitch all the time more people would approach you?"
that's what chris had said just a few hours ago when you were at the party, dancing together.
now chris was trying to get you to talk to him as you sat at the edge of his bed, going through your instagram feed.
"i didn't mean it, baby, you know i didn't. please just talk to me, c'mon," he whined, his hand rubbing your shoulder gently.
you just sighed, tucking your phone in your pocket before looking away from him, "you can't just say shit like that, chris."
he nodded as his hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you into him, "i know, i just wasn't thinking, i'm sorry."
that's what he always said, and you always believed him. always.
"hey, i'll be right back, okay?" he said softly, kissing your cheek.
you nodded, watching as chris left his room and shut the door, leaving you alone.
chris was back in a matter of 15 minutes, barging into his room and making you jump from the sudden noise.
you were sat against the headboard, scrolling through tiktok as chris climbed onto the bed next to you.
"ma," he smiled, showering your entire face in kisses as he moved your phone to the side.
you laughed at his clinginess, feeling his hands go up to cup your face softly, "hi, baby."
"i have a surprise." he said, the smile on his face growing as he grabbed his phone.
he held the phone in front of your face, and on the screen were 2 tickets to paris, france, the date on the ticket showing that the plane was leaving in just 4 days.
your mouth fell agape as you turned your head to look at chris, before he could even say anything, you jumped into his arms, hugging him tightly.
after a few minutes of silence in his embrace, you finally spoke, "i love you, chris."
the boy smiled, kissing your neck affectionately, "love you, too, y/n."
SPRING BREAK 2024 , night 3
your eyes were glued to your phone, attention on chris's new instagram story.
it was a picture of him, his tongue stuck out as the words "Happy Easter !" were next to him.
your lips curled into a small smile, but then it faded as the memory of your breakup crashed into your mind.
maybe he was an asshole at sometimes, but you really missed him. he was so sweet and such a gentleman at times.
every moment with him was never boring, he was funny, kind, hot, everything a girl would want in a guy.
you shut off your phone as another memory came into your mind, when chris had hit on your friend right in front of you.
and the worst part wasn't even that it was right in front of you; the worst part was that he'd done it multiple times.
"fucking asshole." you muttered, eyes going to the TV that was currently playing Waves.
your attention couldn't stay on the movie, though. it wasn't long until your eyes wandered below the TV to the entertainment center.
there was a photo of you and chris in paris, on the eiffel tower.
he was so sweet for taking you on that trip, but then again, he was a dick for the reason he bought the tickets.
god, you couldn't make up your mind.
do i love him? do i hate him? i guess it's up and down.
you couldn't even decide anymore. all you knew was that you wanted to get him back.
you wanted to make him jealous, like he always made you. and, fuck, you wanted to make him feel bad. really bad.
he would always blame you for shit you couldn't control.
and then at other times you wanted to get him back.
you wanted him again, missed him, even.
you felt sad every time you saw him having fun with other girls, felt like you were never good enough for him.
you just wanted him to reassure you that you were better than all those girls, that you were his girl.
sometimes you even found yourself on your bedroom floor, texting him little notes about how much you missed the way kisses and the way he grabbed your--
the way he made you laugh.
you'd pour your heart our every time, and the "little notes" would always end up as huge paragraphs.
you still remember the time you had almost hit send. during your relationship another girl had texted you that chris was cheating on you with her.
and of course, it had to have been one of your ex-friends.
she had explained that she went through his phone and saw your text messages with chris. he said you were the only girl.
but that just wasn't the truth. another one of his lies.
another memory was when you had actually sent him a paragraph. a paragraph about how bad he had hurt you.
chris, never being one to admit to something like that, said you were trippin'.
you remember how angry you were, how much you had fucking hated his guts. but then you remembered what you had told your friends that same day.
"maybe i could fix him."
SPRING BREAK , day 7
matt was hosting a party at him and his brothers' shared house, and he had invited you.
and, of course, you accepted the invitation. he was just chris's brother, and you would just avoid the younger triplet if he tried to come to you.
"y/n, oh my god, we missed you!" nick greeted, pulling you into a hug as you stepped into the house.
"i missed you, too, nick." you smiled, hugging him back before going off to find some other friends.
why couldn't chris be like his brothers? they were so sweet.
maybe you should've went for matt last summer.
a few hours into the party and a guy was all over you, grabbing at your waist and pulling you against his front.
you caught sight of chris as you danced against the guy. he was staring daggers at the man, his grip on his pepsi can tight enough to break it into pieces.
you smirked at the thought of making him jealous. but, fuck, you wanted to make him more than jealous.
maybe after the party you would key his car. that'd get him going.
or maybe you'd make him lunch tomorrow, make him happy.
you hadn't even met his mom during your relationship. what if you got in touch with her just to tell her her son sucks?
whatever, it didn't matter right now. all that mattered was that chris was jealous and was ready to attack the guy.
"let's go upstairs, yeah?" the guy whispered into your ear, hand going up to squeeze your boob.
just as he did, chris was out of his seat, pushing way past other people and stopping just in front of you.
you hadn't even had time to process the whole interaction between chris and the unknown guy before chris was dragging you down the hall to his room.
"chris, what the fuck are you--" your sentence was cut short as he pushed you against his locked door, his lips crashing onto yours hungrily.
your eyes widened in shock, but as soon as chris's hand rested on your waist, you relaxed, kissing him back just as rough.
his grip on your waist was tight, sure to leave marks in the shape of his hands.
good, that would remind any other guy who touched you that you belonged to chris. only chris.
his lips left your, trailing kisses down your jawline to your neck, sucking harshly on your tender skin just before his tongue lay flat on the same spot to soothe the ache.
"fuck." you whined, hands tangling in chris's hair.
chris didn't stay at your neck for long, pulling away entirely from your body to pull your shirt over you head and undo your bra.
his lips were quick to find your nipple, swirling around the bud slowly as his hand played with your other boob.
his eyes never left yours as he left marks on your chest, making sure they wouldn't fade in just a matter of hours.
"stupid fucking guy thinks he can touch on you like that," chris muttered as he grabbed your waist tightly again, roughly leading you to sit on his bed.
he got on his knees in front of you before pulling at the hem of your jeans.
you quickly got the hint and slipped them off, kicking them off your ankles before chris threw them somewhere around the floor.
"still such a good girl for me, yeah?" he said, amusement in his tone as he grabbed your thighs and pulled them open.
you nodded eagerly, "i'm your good girl, chris."
chris smiled, before hooking his finger in your panties and pulling them off of you roughly.
you swore you heard him rip the fabric, but that didn't matter, all that mattered right now was the ache between your thighs.
"still such a pretty girl." chris mused before running his tongue through your folds.
you gasped at the warmth of his tongue, attempting to squeeze your legs shut.
chris kept them open, his grip on your thighs tightening as he dipped his tongue into your entrance, eliciting a loud moan out of you.
"chris, fuck." you moaned, hands going back into the boys hair and tuggling lightly.
his lips wrapped around your clit, sucking harshly as he slipped his index finger into your wetness.
your grip in his hair tightened as your moans got louder, whining his name as his finger hit that sweet spot deep inside of you.
"oh my god, chris.." you groaned, eyes rolling back as they fluttered shut.
he added a second finger to your entrance, finding it harder to thrust both fingers into you.
"so tight." he groaned into your pussy, the vibrations of his voice making you let out a throaty moan.
"chris, chris, fuck, i'm gonna-" you cut yourself off with a moan as chris curled his fingers.
you came on his tongue and fingers, your chest heaving as you let go of his hair.
chris lapped at your wetness, cum coating his chin as he stood up in front of you.
he wasted no time in taking his shirt off, unbuckling his belt and kicking his jeans off his ankles, quickly pulling his boxers down before throwing them on the floor.
"you make me crazy, y'know that, ma?" he growled lowly, pushing you softly to lay on your back.
chris didn't even let you reply before he aligned his cock with your entrance and thrusted himself inside of you.
hiding his face in your neck, he began to roll his hips, groaning as he felt your walls clench around him tightly.
"fuck." he whined at the feeling of your nails digging into his back, sure to draw blood.
it wasn't long until you had adjusted to his size and chris had began to thrust into you faster, his tip hitting your cervix just right every time.
your moans echoed off the walls, and suddenly you were glad that the music outside of the door was loud.
the bed creaked as the headboard hit the wall, evidence of how hard chris was rocking against your body.
"chris, fuck, you're so big." you whimpered, gasping as you felt his hand on your lower belly.
he pushed down slightly, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he felt a small bulge.
it didn't take long for the both of you to reach the edge, gasps and moans being the only thing heard in the room.
chris came seconds before you, filling you up just before you came on his cock, making him groan loudly.
"fuck, ma." he sighed, giving you a few seconds before he pulled out of you and plopped by your side on the bed.
you rolled on your side to face him, smiling slightly at the knowledge that he had already been staring at you.
he smiled back at you, his eyes struggling to stay open.
he laughed, "still making you feel bad?"
even if he was tired, he would never pass up the chance to make a snarky comment.
"shut up, you idiot." you laughed, punching him playfully.
. . .
tags: @mattsneezing @55sturn @niicksposts @mayhem-72 @chrissturnswife @sturn-wrld @freshloveee @h3arts4harry @films4sturni @lanixsturniolo @voidghsts @thebottledwatersupplier @strniohoeee @strnilolo @heartsforchrisandmatt @sturn3g1rl @mstxrniolo @iluvmattyb @ryli3sworld @stingerayyy2
n
#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo imagine#sturniolo x reader#the sturniolo triplets#matt sturniolo imagine#sturniolo#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#matt sturniolo fluff#matt sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo angst#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo x reader#christopher sturniolo#chris smut#chris sturniolo smut#nick sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#sturniolo smut#sturniolo fanfic
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➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏
✧.* CHAPTER 37 || The Priceless Gift
[ { 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 & more fluff.
[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 5.3k
[ { 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 } ]
——REMEMBER WHEN YOU ASKED YOURSElF if your feelings for Choso were fading? Remember how you thought for a moment you were actually falling for Gojo Satoru, the same man who blackmailed you? Yeah, maybe you were just a bit confused.
Choso's calming voice echoed through your ears and you felt like you were about to cry tears of joy. You wouldn't say you were head over heels for the man but given the fact that you just received such a heartfelt gift from Gojo and now Choso was speaking to you for the first time in about two months...
There were a lot of emotions fluttering around in your heart. You were so fucking conflicted. Even though, your decision should be easy, right? Gojo blackmailed you and Choso treated you perfectly, why are you finding difficulty in choosing who you should settle your heart on?
Why do you want them both in the first place? Is it because you know there's something about the blackmailing situation that Gojo's not telling you and that whatever it is, you know it'll change how you feel? Not to mention, you can't just ignore all of Gojo's poetic confessions.
He called you his eternity.
Meanwhile, Choso hasn't sent even so much as a text in two whole months. You can't be upset with him for it because you understood how hard it was for the man to spend time with you amid the uncertainty you brought but even so, a text every now and then would've been nice.
"Is that okay?" Choso suddenly asked, breaking you from your thoughts, "Is it possible for me to see you today?"
"U-Uhm," You swallow. Your hands were shaking so badly. When did your anxiety get this bad? All of your nerves were everywhere and your heart was throbbing. "Give me a s-second, Choso. Please?"
You hear him sigh softly, "Take as long as you need, angel."
Your eyes shot up to the ceiling as you smiled at his words yet again. After a moment of blushing you nodded, "I'll be right back." You told him.
Choso hummed, "Alright."
With that, you carefully placed the phone on mute and then rushed back to the living room. A new movie was on the TV and the trio seemed to be decently into it. Well, with the exception of Gojo who turned his head as soon as you popped around the corner.
His eyes met yours and both of you sent each other a look. Before you could get anything out, the man mouthed out his words to you, "Just go."
Your brows furrowed. How did he even know you were about to ask them if it was okay to leave? Did he set this up? You do remember Gojo mentioning that you should try talking to Choso during winter break but, he couldn't possibly be behind this, right?
He wasn't. But, Gojo wanted you to be with Choso. He puts your happiness above everything and Gojo so clearly saw the way your eyes lit up at Choso's contact popping up on your phone. The white-haired man wasn't even jealous over it either (he thinks), he was actually happy for you.
So, of course, if you come running around the corner after a few minutes of talking to Choso, it's obvious what you came to say. Given that, Gojo's look was serious and if you didn't go, he was going to force you to.
You, too frozen to move yet, simply stood there with wide eyes as you processed Gojo's mouthed words to you.
The male sighs and then stands up, humming a quiet I'll be back to both Geto and Shoko who hadn't even realized you were standing just around the corner. Gojo then walks over to you, placing a hand on your stomach softly and lightly pushing you back around the corner.
You bat your eyelashes at the tall man as he backs you all the way away from the living room, "S-Satoru, I-"
"Shut up," Gojo utters, his voice low and relaxed with you, "I don't want a single argument from you. Go to him."
You grab ahold of his wrist and he stops pushing you. "But what about-"
"What about what?" He sighs tiredly.
You swallow, "What about you?"
Gojo's heart skips a beat and he smiles, "What about me, sweetheart?"
"I can't just-,"
"First, you tell me you shouldn't be in love with me, to which I agree. Then, you'd tell me about how you missed Choso. And now, he's called you and I'm pretty sure he asked to see you so," Gojo leans down to your eye level and his gaze softens, "Where's the hesitation coming from?"
Your eyes are all glossy with stressed tears, "I don't know, Satoru. I-I'm confused."
"About what?" He chuckles a little, struggling to wrap his head around your current emotions.
"Who I want," You explain.
He shakes his head, "Don't be."
"But I-"
"I'm no good for you. You know that." Gojo emphasizes, "Please don't let me intoxicate you with my feelings. Let's not complicate this, okay?"
A frown takes over your expression. Never in a million years did you think you'd find yourself in such a predicament where you struggle to choose between one man and another.
You sucked in a deep breath and look off to the side, "Satoru..."
"Just... At least go see him." Gojo murmurs, moving his hand to your chin and turning you right back to face him, "Then, maybe make up your mind afterward, yeah?"
"Won't seeing him just make it worse?" You ask.
He scoffs, "No. The worst thing you can do right now is pick me over him."
"But-"
He whispers your name, "Go see him."
You're too hardheaded to listen right now, "Satoru-"
"If you spend another minute here complaining," He shuts his eyes for only a minute, then his tone goes void of that loving emotion, "I'm telling Shoko about the list."
Your eyes widen, "You're not seriously blackmailing me again, are you??" You question in disbelief.
It's so obvious now that the man is a good actor because the way his entire mood shifted back to the one you initially dealt with when the list started is almost frightening.
"I told you, sweetheart," He stands up straight and his gaze is dark, almost cold, "I'm no good for you."
You frown and inch closer to him, placing a hand on his arm, "But... You can be."
He grits his teeth, "Stop that."
"Stop what?" You question, tipping your head to the side with this gentle look in your eyes.
"Trying to figure me out. I told you, I'm not some problem for you to solve." Gojo utters. He doesn't sound upset but he's earnest with you, "I don't want to argue with you anymore so, please, just go see him."
The two of you stare into each other's eyes for one last long moment before you give him a little nod and a quiet okay. Gojo lets out a relieved sigh and then moves his hand to the back of your head and pulls you close to him. Your eyes go wide as he does so and you can tell his short-lived cold attitude has faded away.
His lips then press into your forehead and he stays still for another long moment before pulling away. You then lift your head and your gaze up to him and he looks down at you.
His hand moves to the necklace around your neck, feeling it against his skin for a moment as he smiles, "Go on now, go be happy with him."
You wanted to argue and say you could be happy with him instead, that you could just stay right here and give in to the impending blossom of feelings in your chest for him. But, Gojo would never allow you to do so.
So, instead, you just gave in and soon parted ways with the man after one last hug and a quiet thank you for everything. Gojo then walked you out and he told you that you could come back whenever you wanted, whether it was later that night or early the next morning, he said it didn't matter-- if you wanted to come back, he'd be there to open the door for you.
With that, you and him finally separated.
. . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ . . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆
As you left the apartment, you unmuted your phone and raised it to your ear, "Hello?"
You're surprised Choso sat there the whole time but, his response was immediate, "M'still here." He mumbled.
You smile a little, "Where uh, where do you want to meet up?"
"I'm actually at my art studio right now," Choso tells you, he sounds a little tired. "I'll leave the door unlocked for you."
"Okay, I'm on my way," You say.
You can't see it but he smiles at the fact that he'll be able to lay his eyes on you again, his heart rate increasing at the thought alone, "Cya soon." Choso hums.
His voice was so mellow and relaxed and you loved hearing every second of it. After that brief conversation, the two of you got off the phone and you left the apartment complex completely, quick to get in your car and drive to the man.
The drive felt longer than ever. Each second that passed, each red light that stopped you, every street you drove by, it all felt as though it were going by in slow motion. Your heartbeat was increasing and increasing, anxiety creeping up throughout your veins and making you sweat a little.
Since when did Choso make you this damn anxious? You had to control your breathing as you drove, making sure you took the proper turns as the location of his art studio was imprinted into your brain, even though you'd only been there a few times.
You wondered what he was doing there at this time of night. It was around nine o'clock and you didn't know Choso to do anything artistic around this time. But, maybe things had changed within the two months you went without him. What if he had changed?
What if he sees you and he realizes he doesn't feel the same anymore? What if he gets tired of waiting for you to be ready? What if you were to confess to him and he turns you down? What if he fell for someone else?
Your mind wouldn't stop pushing question after question as you drove. You were beyond uneasy and you loathed that feeling. Choso was supposed to be your peace of mind. He usually is. Normally, when you think about the man, you can't help the swelling of your heart and the smile that spreads across your face.
Where are all these negative thoughts and emotions coming from?
Is this, perhaps, what he experienced? That uncertainty that Choso said he felt before he left you, is this what he meant? The process of wondering all different kinds of scenarios over and over and never being sure of what'll prove to be true and what won't?
You hope Choso didn't experience this-- this sucked.
Before you even realized it, you were parked outside of the designated address. You had to reach in your bag for some perfume and spray it on yourself just in case as if that would bring a calming to your unsettled nerves.
Then, with a deep breath, you got out of your car and headed inside. The building was rather large, filled with all kinds of rented-out spaces, and Choso was located on the fifth floor.
You took the elevator up, taking multiple deep breaths as the elevator creaked and creaked, dinging with each floor it passed up until you reached the fifth. You paced down the lengthy hallway until you got to his place and then stopped in front of the door.
Swallowing hard, you carefully placed your hand on the doorknob and twisted. Opening the door, the studio was dimly lit as you entered and at first, you couldn't see much. The studio was huge and tall, having enough room for its own second floor, which is where the light was coming from.
You were quiet with shutting the door behind you and locking it. Carefully walking through the scattered and various art supplies lying around, you traveled through the room and toward the back, making your way up the short set of stairs and soon laying eyes on Choso.
He was sitting on a couch and you think your mouth watered at the initial sight. His head was turned to the side as he looked at one of his paintings and his positioning on the couch was just...
There was this purple LED light that kept the room dimly lit and it only made the man all the more attractive. Choso was manspreading, his thighs parted so sexily as he sat shirtless in these black slightly paint-covered sweatpants. His hair was loose and his muscular arms were stretched over the back of the couch comfortably.
That was, until he saw you in his peripherals and turned his head to you. You froze in your steps as your eyes met his and you think you forgot how to speak. Choso's brain seemed to stutter as well as he blinked a few times.
You then watched him slowly shift to stand up and your feet slowly moved toward him. Both of you took a moment to process but your bodies were moving on their own and Choso was quick to rush over to you as you rushed toward him.
Your bodies clashed with each other and your arms went up over his neck whilst his larger arms went around your waist. The scent of his cologne and a hint of fresh paint entered your nose as you nuzzled into him.
Your feet left the ground for a second as Choso squeezed you and lifted you into the air, holding you as if he'd waited forever for this moment. With a fluttering heart, you chuckled in reaction to his tight grasp.
Choso carefully places you back down and his arms ease from around your waist as he instead grips onto your sides. Your arms slide down and you rest your hold on his biceps for a moment as the two of you take in each other's features for the first time since he left.
Slowly and carefully, his hands leave your sides completely, finding solace in cupping your face in his palms, "Holy shit," Choso gasps, gazing so deeply into your eyes, "I missed you so much."
You bat your eyelashes at the male, a smile printed across your features as you do so, "I missed you too Cho."
His brows tense at the softness of your voice and you notice the heavy bags under his eyes. Choso leans his face close to yours, pulling you in as he does so, "I'm sorry."
His apology perplexes you and you giggle nervously, "For what?" You ask through an uneasy smile.
"Not calling or responding to your texts," He explains, "T-That was shitty of me and I'm sorry."
You peer into his almost doe-like brown eyes and you literally watch as his pupils expand into a larger size. Shit, has his eyes always dilated to such a degree when he looked at you? Or... Is this just your first time noticing?
"No, you don't have to apologize, Cho. It's okay," You hush out to him, your eyes unknowingly glossing up. Water coated your gaze due to your heightened emotions.
From uncertainty to straight-up anxiety, everything felt like it was about to crash over you. You'd waited for so long for this very moment and you almost forgot what it was like to be with Choso. However, standing here right now allowed all those memories to rush back to you in a matter of seconds.
Those late-night rendezvous with him, the laughs, the smiles, the teasing, the joy, the fun, the mischief-- all of it. Every last memory of this man thrums throughout your mind within a single moment and you remember it all.
You remember what it felt like for your heart to skip a beat when he spoke to you, what it felt like to experience that breath of fresh air that was his presence for only a moment. You finally recalled how Choso was your freedom. He is your peace, paralleling how you are Gojo's eternity, his whole.
Choso's fingers slip up along your face, just barely making contact with your eyelids and forcing them shut so that your tears could fall freely, "I really hope these aren't because of me," He murmured, quick to wipe away the moisture as soon as they fell from your sockets.
You sniffle and your smile has yet to fade, "They're tears of joy I swear."
He smiles and you watch the corners of his eyes crinkly a little as water glosses over his eyes too, "You're that happy to see me?"
"Yeah," You whisper, your voice trembling in emotion.
The man pouts and tips his head to the side a little, "I'm so sorry, princess," Choso apologizes again, weighing his face even closer and so much so that your breaths are shared.
"You d-don't have to apologize, I understand. It's just... I dunno, one call would've been nice," Your voice is so shaky and fragile that it even affects the way he holds your face.
His touch is so light that it's almost as though it's not even there, "I couldn't..." Choso sighs. His tone is soft and shaky just like yours, "One call is all it'd take for me to end up right back in your arms as I wish to be."
You frown, "T-Then what changed today? Hm?"
His lips are almost on yours, "I couldn't take it anymore. It may have seemed like it was easy for me to create that distance between us but..." Choso swallows hard, "I couldn't go even twenty-four hours without thinking of you."
Your frown lifts to a half smile, "Yeah?"
Choso nods and the gesture is done almost needily, desperation vexed into his gaze as he simply pours his longing emotions down into you through his soft looks alone. His sights then slip down to your lips, "Can I please kiss you?"
It was as though you could feel the physical squeeze his request had on your heart. The grip was strong, dangerous, and threatening. Your heart was so loud and heavy you could feel it pounding against your ears and blood and heat rushed there and to your face.
You nod a little and then shut your eyes in sync with his, both of your lips finally pressing into each other. There's pure tranquility flooding throughout your entire being as his soft, long-since-untouched lips move against yours. A floodgate of pure and swelled emotions had burst open as his lips were met with your own.
Sure, he doesn't kiss you like how Gojo does but, that doesn't make it any less enjoyable.
Choso's lips are soft, careful against yours, and steadily moving over yours in the way he remembers you enjoying. You relish in his touch, the taste of his tongue soon settling over yours and he prises your mouth open and slides right in as if that's exactly where he belonged.
A slight hum exits your throat as you kiss him back fervently and his hands move away from your face and back down to your waist. Choso jerks your body closer and up against his own, his fingers sinking into you even through the thick layers of clothing you wore. For a moment, as you make out he shifts again and this time works your coat off your body, allowing it to fall to the floor.
You were too engrossed in his lips to care and even pushed yourself right back into him afterward. Choso smiled against your lips as you did so and then he snaked his arms around your waist and walked you backward to the couch he'd previously been sitting on.
Both of your mouths go a bit wider and your tongues swivel over one another sensually with a loud and wet slick sound. With your lips never prying from each other, Choso carefully eases back down onto the couch and you comfort yourself right on top of him.
The sound of your kissing, his hums, and your light moans filled the entirety of the art studio, the noises bouncing off the walls and hitting both of your ears-- adding to the sensuality of it all.
With a loud smack, Choso just barely pulled his mouth from yours, "Fuck," He pants and then groans out your name so lowly that it spurs chills up your spine, "I missed you so fucking much."
You grin, "Yeah?"
"Every day," Choso begins, struggling to catch his breath, "I missed you more and more every single day."
You peck his lips one more time and gaze down at him through low-lidded eyes, "I missed you too."
His touch slides down and Choso settles his hold on your hips as you comfort yourself into his lap. He's still panting and his face is flushed. Cheeks reddened, the tips of his ears smothered in blush, his lips moist from you, and his expression needy.
Choso does that thing you missed where he simply basks in the feel of you being with him, taking in your every detail like always, "You're so... so fuckin' perfect." He compliments, unable to stop the words from spilling out of his mouth, "You..." His words come out breathily, "You consume my thoughts, y'know that right?"
You smile, "Do I?"
He nods almost like a little puppy. "You do."
With a slight chuckle, you never once break the eye contact, "Y'know... I wasn't expecting to see you today so uh, I didn't get you anything." You tell him.
Choso sighs and tips his head back against the couch, still gazing up at you, "My gift is you being here right now, I couldn't ask for much more than that."
"That's so sweet," You giggle, gushing at his words to you, "But, I still wish I actually got you something."
His eyes are low on yours, barely even open as he gazes at you with those naturally sleepy eyes of his, "There's no need, baby. Trust me. You're all I wanted for Christmas."
You roll your eyes, "Okay Mariah Carey."
He flashes that sexy yet lazy smile of his, "I really didn't mean to reference her but," He shrugs, "It works. Also, I got you something."
Your eyes light up, "Really, what is it?"
"Well, technically I made you something." Choso clarifies.
The shifting of your body over his makes him suck in a sharp breath as you grow eager to know what he's got for you, "What is it? Either show or tell me already."
Choso grips your hips a little, "First off, quit' movin' so much. Secondly, it's two gifts and the first is over there," He nods his head off to the left and your sights rush in that direction.
You spot a relatively large box wrapped in pretty gift wrap with a pretty big bow on it, "Aw, Cho you didn't have to get me anything..." You say, despite being ecstatic about it as you raise yourself from his lap.
His hands slip off your body whilst you stand to your feet and then pace over to the designated box, quickly picking it up and shaking it a little as if that'll tell you what's in it. It's large and rectangular, relatively thin but still big nonetheless.
"I hope you like it," Choso hums while he sits up a little and watches you take a seat beside him.
Your hands work to tear open the gift. The item makes your eyes go wide and your jaw drop completely. To little surprise, it's a painting. But, not just any random painting. And no, it wasn't that first portrait of you he made months ago when he first met you...
Instead, it was something much more beautiful. Most of Choso's artwork consists of dark colors and thick sharp lines that mold together to form something beautiful. But this? Oh, it was almost foreign to the man's art style.
In your hands was a painting of your eyes. Within your pupils was your eye shade but when you look close enough, you spot small words made out within it in different shades. He'd used those words to express the things he sees when he makes eye contact with you while simultaneously capturing the beauty that is your eye color.
It was gorgeous.
You read so many different words; beautiful, love, perfection, amazing, smart, talented, inspiring, breathtaking, soul-touching, my epiphany, peace, euphoria, god's greatest creation, etc. The list went on and on, each word so very tiny yet easy to read if you looked closely enough. All of which was painted within your eyes.
Outside of that, the image was still stunning, capturing your lashes down to the finest ones, the texture of your skin even imprinted perfectly, and the feel of genuine emotion oozing off the artwork in your hands.
Your speech was stripped from you as you took in what you were staring at. How do you respond to such a dedicated piece of art? Your heart was pounding against your chest once more and you didn't even realize the image had brought tears to your eyes until a droplet trickled onto your hand.
"F-Fucking hell," You curse, your breath unsteady. Sniffling was heard from you as you dragged your gaze up and to Choso, "I..."
His eyes are casual on yours, as if he didn't just give you something that took him months to capture properly. "Merry Christmas," Choso uttered, nervousness hinted in his words.
Your brows tense up, "You... When..." You struggled to piece together the right thing to say as you looked back down to the item, "C-Choso, I love this."
He bites back the cheesing smile he almost flashed, "I'm glad you do."
"H-How long did this take?" You whisper, moving to wipe your joyful tears away and look back up to him.
Choso shrugs, "Few' months."
"Were you working on this before you... before you left?" You ease out in question.
"Mhm," He hums, "I'm uh, I'm not the best with words at times so, for every time I wanted to say one of those things to you but couldn't, I painted it. Then, after I left... Well, the rest of the words began to fill the shape of your irises faster than I expected." Choso explains to you.
You place the gift down to the side and crawl across the couch to him, grabbing his face and pulling him close before crashing your lips into his. Choso laughs into your kiss, his eyes widening for a split second before he flutters them shut and kisses you back. It's heavier than the one prior as you make out with him gratefully.
Barely breaking away for air, you hush out your words to him, "Thank you."
Choso was about to say you're welcome but he was cut off by your tongue sinking into his mouth. He simply melted into your touches and aggressive kisses, adoring the feeling of it all.
His body turned a bit to get more comfortable kissing you and one of your hands slid down to his neck, feeling all of his skin tense under your touch. Choso soon breathed out your name in between your kisses, trying to gain your attention but you were so wrapped up in thanking him through the motion.
To snap you out of it, Choso suddenly takes control and you feel his teeth latch onto your bottom lip and he nibbles, pulling your skin slightly as he groans and moves a hand to your waist. His hand swipes under your shirt and he firmly squeezes your side, abruptly tickling you and making you chuckle away from the kiss.
You both part from each other with soft laughter and Choso smiles at you, "Baby, you have another gift, y'know."
You shrug, "I don't need it, that was enough. That was perfect, Choso."
"You're gonna like the second one too though," He says, playfully pouting.
Your head shakes, "Whatever it is, return it if possible, I don't need anything more."
He smirks, "It's not exactly something I can return..."
A sigh leaves you, "What is it then?"
With a little huff, Choso moves to stand up. When he does, his arms go up and he stretches a little. The man then slides over a little to stand right in front of you and you peer up at him with wide and curious eyes.
Raising a brow at the man, you remain confused, "What is it?"
Choso leans forward, placing his hands on the back of the couch and trapping your smaller frame in between his arms. "I got a new tattoo I wanted to show you but, I want you to find it."
There's no way. He didn't tattoo his dick, did he?
You chuckle and shift to sit comfortably in between his muscular arms, "Choso... How is your new tattoo gonna be a gift for me?"
"Search for it and find out," He taunts.
You nearly told him that he's just like his brother in that sense but then you mentally cursed yourself for even comparing the two in the first place. With a roll of your eyes, you start moving your hands, "Finnnee.."
Slowly, you move to his waistline where his black sweats are, carefully and sensually pulling at the drawstring as you keep your eyes up on his. Choso's gaze is down on your face the entire time, even as he feels you tug at his sweatpants.
"Am I gonna' have to take these off?" You ask suggestively.
His head tilts a little and he nods, "Mhm, take em' off me, princess."
You do your best to keep control of your hormones as his words hit your ears. Then, you carefully pull his pants down a bit, stopping when he starts talking again.
"You won't have to search too far down though," Choso adds on.
You finally break eye contact and look down, seeing the band of his boxers and having something tell you to just barely pull them down. So, you do. Revealed to you are dark-inked letters written in cursive that are almost hidden beneath the left end of his prominent and sharp v-line. You bat your eyelashes at what the letters spell out.
It's your fucking name.
"Holy shit," You curse as your eyes broaden and your head tilts to inspect it, "Choso I know this isn't my name tattooed on you..."
He chuckles and pushes himself up so that he can stand straight up, moving a hand down to the fabric of his clothing to reveal it in full without exposing his manhood, "It is," Choso hums.
You look up at him, your face completely flushed, "Why would you-"
Choso pulls his pants back up and clicks his tongue, "I already told you, princess," Once he's presentable again, he leans down to your face once more, "I'm all yours."
GOJO SATORU ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
GETO SUGURU ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢
KAMO CHOSO ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙈𝙚𝙙𝙞𝙪𝙢 / 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙀𝙭𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙡𝙮 𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮
ITADORI SUKUNA ✔︎
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙎𝙚𝙢𝙞-𝙀𝙖𝙨𝙮???
NANAMI KENTO ☐
𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘦 𝘋𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘪𝘤𝘶𝘭𝘵𝘺: 𝙃𝙖𝙧𝙙
mlist || previous chapt || next chpt
#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#kamiverse#kamiversee#smut fic#jjk smut#gojo smut#geto smut#choso smut#toji smut
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𝕗𝕚𝕥𝕥𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕞 | 𝕞.𝕤.
note: hey guys this is my first time posting my actual work and i’m kinda new to tumblr so pls be nice or i will cry ok thanks bye
warnings: idk smut ig
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"babe please hurry up, we're already running late," matt sighs as he shuts the car door.
"i just need to get some shorts or something, i can't show up to your mom's house in these jeans, look at this" i lift the sweater wrapped around my waist, revealing the rip around my inner thigh.
he rolls his eyes and sulks behind me as we make our way inside the old navy in our hometown. i begin to scan the various women's clothing, looking for something basic, because it's too late to go back home and figure out a new outfit.
"will you hurry up and pick one? please, y/n. chris is texting me wondering where we are. they want to start eating without us and he's most definitely gonna eat all the mac and cheese."
i roll my eyes at him. "first of all, never call me by my government name. rude. and second, we just got here, breathe. we wouldn't be here if you hadn't grabbed my ass so harshly when we stopped at the gas station. you caused this by manhandling me, matthew." i shot back.
he sighs again as i grab a few different options in my size and head towards the fitting rooms. upon arrival, we notice there aren't any employees so i pick a stall and wave matt into the small room.
he looks up at me, then around at our surroundings, "are you sure? i don't think they allow multiple people in at once, i'll just wait here."
i roll my eyes again. "matthew! get in here! i need your opinion. this store is basically empty anyways. it's not a big deal, you've seen me naked before. let's not act so innocent."
he follows me in and takes a seat on the bench facing the door. i untie the sweater he lent me and throw it at his face. "rude!" he exclaims sassily, throwing the wad of clothing to the ground.
"uhm, excuse me, you're rude. you're the whole reason we're in this mess." i begin to remove the ripped pair of pants and pull a new one off its hanger.
facing the mirror on the door, i begin to pull the pair of mom jeans on before matt looks up from his phone and stops me.
"baby, i've never seen these panties on you before, are they new?" he smirks at me. i nod, swatting at his hands.
"wait stop, they're super cute, why haven't you shown me?" he looks up at me with those hypnotic blue eyes, brows furrowed.
i turn around, with the jeans still around my ankles and my hands on my hips. "do i need to inform you every time i purchase a new article of clothing, matt? it's just panties."
he wiggles his eyebrows at me, "when they make your ass look like that, then yeah, i must be notified immediately." he places me onto his lap, pulling the jeans all the way off my ankles so i can straddle him.
"baby we're running late, you're the one who keeps insisting, as much as i want to, we don't have time to fool around" i say to him between the open-mouthed kisses he begins to place on my neck.
he starts to take my top off, then gasps. "fuck the mac and cheese! it's a matching set, now i really can't believe you kept this from me." he drools at the sight of the lacy see-through bra, rubbing his thumb over my visible nipple. he yanks down the thin fabric, causing my boobs to spill over. with one arm wrapped around me, clutching my ass, he uses the other to massage my breast, all while kissing my neck. i feel myself starting to give in, biting my lip to stifle a moan. "matt, i-i don't think we can do this here." i slightly protest, but he reaches up to kiss me, and bites my bottom lip.
i'm done for.
he's kissing and grabbing and rubbing all over me and i'm a mess. i can never say no to him, he knows how to manipulate my body to want exactly what he wants. i can feel his bulge through his jeans, and i grind on it slowly, making my clit throb against it.
suddenly, he lifts me and flips me around so im sat on his lap, and we're both facing the mirror. he's unbuckling his belt, then his pants. he wraps one arm around my waist and lifts me slightly while he pulls down his pants and boxers, revealing his dick, standing tall and proud.
he makes eye contact with me in the mirror and grabs my face, smushing my cheeks together, and whispers in my ear, "i want you to watch baby, watch how good you can take my whole dick inside of you, pay real close attention."
he smirks at my widened eyes, and moves the panties to one side, rubbing the wetness all around and then on my clit.
"you normally get to scream all you want, but not this time baby, okay? you need to be really really quiet for me, got it?" he covers my mouth.
i nod quickly, and without warning, he picks me up and thrusts his entire length into me. i hold back a scream, and i feel tears falling down my cheeks. no matter how many times, how long we've been together, i'll never be used to his size.
he gives me a second to adjust, and then begins to pound into me over and over again, my back sliding up and down his clothed chest. i'm watching as my breasts bounce up and down and his dick glides in and out, in and out. he uncovers my mouth, keeping one hand on my waist, and starts to rub circles on my clit with the pad of his thumb, making me roll my eyes back further in pleasure.
he begins to nibble on my ear, then moves down to suck the spot right underneath. as he kisses down, i feel him bite down on my shoulder to suppress a moan.
"matthew!" i hiss at the pain, but it feels so good.
"shh!" he pinches my nipple, causing me to let out a whimper.
i grab his wrist, stopping his movement, and smile at him, "my turn." i bend down slightly, still facing the mirror so he has a full view of my ass while i bounce on his dick. he presses down on my back, sliding his hand down to secure a firm grip on my neck. he curses under his breath, trying hard not to make any noise while i'm aggressively riding him. he places both hands on my ass grasping and slapping occasionally, until i sit back up and we're making eye contact in the reflection. he's rubbing on my clit again, using his other hand to massage my left breast and i can feel a knot forming in my abdomen.
i turn around so i'm straddling him, and continue to bounce up and down. he grabs me by my throat and kisses me roughly, before planting a hard slap on my ass. i move faster, and he groans, grasping my ass tighter, leaving hand-shaped bruises for him to stare at later.
"i'm almost there baby. fuck, you're the most beautiful thing i've ever laid my eyes on." he whispers in my ear and i close my eyes, feeling my climax creeping close.
we start moving in sync, until my legs shake, and i feel his dick twitch, then shoot his load into me, causing me to finish as well, leaving me trembling on his lap. i drop my head forward onto his shoulder, desperately trying to catch my breath
he wraps his arms around my shoulders, kissing the side of my head. "wow, what we just did was probably super illegal, " i laugh at his comment, but then frown when i realize what we've done.
"fucking hell, matt. we can't buy pants now, i feel too awkward going up to the register after we've been in this fitting room for so long, they probably know what we've been doing!" i cover my face with my hands.
"baby that's alright," he grabs my wrists, pulling my hands away from my face. "just put your clothes back on, we'll go back to the car, and you can just borrow some sweats when we get home."
i stare at him, mouth gaping in realization. "are you serious? we could've just done that in the first place! i'm so dumb, why didn't i think of that?"
he stands and helps me put my shirt on, followed by the ripped jeans, "it's alright y/n, i didn't think of it either. let's go home, i'm starving." he smiles at me, rubbing small circles on my back.
"i love you, matt" i look up at him, with red cheeks, wondering how i'm going to leave this dressing room with any dignity.
"i love you. don't worry, i know what you're thinking. just hold my hand and we'll walk back to the car, c'mon." he laces our fingers together and kisses me on the forehead, unlocking the door and stepping out of the changing room.
luckily enough, nobody seemed to even notice us weaving through the aisles and exiting the store. we managed to get back in matt's car without a single interruption, and soon after arriving at his house, where chris had demolished the entire dish of mac and cheese.
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ahh can’t believe i’m posting this but fuck it we ball
to be added to taglist comment here
#matt sturniolo#matthew sturniolo#nicolas sturniolo#christopher sturniolo#matt sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo fanfic#sturniolo triplets#smut#fanfic
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Covering the Classics Part 8 | Bob Floyd x OC
Summary: Now that Anna knows what Bob's hands feel like when he's holding her close, she doesn't know how to stop herself from going back for more. But she's unwilling to even humor Bob when it comes to what he wants the most.
Warnings: Fluff, angst, adult language, masturbation, eventually 18+
Length: 5300 words
Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x Female OC (this story is part of the Beer Boy/Sugar and Jake/Jessica universe)
Covering the Classics masterlist. Check my masterlist for more!
"I'm waiting for you to thank me."
Bob looked up to see Nat in front of him with a little smirk painted on her lips. He'd been spending the last twenty minutes trying to act normal, something he forgot how to do after Anna kissed him in the kitchen. Because it wasn't just a kiss, it was everything. It felt like she really wanted him.
"Thank you for what?" he asked cautiously.
Nat laughed heartily like he'd just told a very amusing joke. "For pushing you and Anna together. Bradley told me the situation, and that woman was jealous of me touching you. Her face was all pinched, and her lips were pressed into a tight line. Jealous. She wants you. And my god, she's hot. What the fuck do they do at San Diego State? Only interview you if you've got your PhD and a modeling contract?"
Bob knew he was blushing, and he was happy she wasn't calling him out on it. His friends were all talking about him and Anna behind his back at this point, trying to figure out what was going on. "We kind of just made out in the kitchen," he muttered, glancing across the yard at Anna who was talking to Jess and still holding the can of ginger ale he gave her.
"Yes!" Nat said with absolutely no subtlety, slapping Bob's shoulder. "Oh fuck, the two of you will have the cutest kids! Freckles and strawberry blonde hair!"
He had to close his eyes against the idea of it, willing the flush in his cheeks to subside. When he opened them again, Anna was looking right at him. Her gaze was a little unsure, and he was starting to get afraid she wouldn't let him drive her home later. But he wanted to walk her up to her door. He had been thinking about it since the very first time he drove her home.
"It's not like we're together or anything," he muttered.
"Yet," Nat told him, looking so certain. "Not yet."
It was getting late, the sun dipping lower in the sky. The temperatures would start cooling down once it was dark, and Anna was only wearing shorts. Bob's eyes easily found those freckles on her thighs once again. Her skin looked so damn soft. He wondered if he would feel goosebumps beneath his fingers if he traced that pretty pattern, gently connecting her freckles with an imaginary line. He had to swallow hard as she started heading his way.
Nat squeezed his wrist and muttered something about work, and then she vanished into the house. With Anna standing right in front of him, Bob wished he could just lean in and kiss her the way Jake always did with Jess, and the way Bradley always did with his wife. He wanted it. With Anna.
"I'm getting a little chilly," she told him. "I guess I overestimated how warm autumn was going to be in San Diego. It's still better than New Jersey though." She was talking to him like she hadn't been rubbing the front of those little shorts against the fly of his jeans barely an hour ago, and now he was sweating.
"You should wear jeans next time," he replied before realizing how stupid he sounded. "Not that you should be covering your legs or anything like that! You have very nice legs. Nice freckles? I just don't want you to be cold."
He cradled his forehead in his hand while Anna laughed softly. "I'll wear jeans next time. Do you think you could give me a ride home soon?"
"Sure," he promised immediately. "Absolutely."
"Great." Then she turned, and Bob heard her saying goodbye to Jessica. Why was he so awkward? Why was that exchange so weird? How was he supposed to make Anna want to kiss him again when he could barely string two normal sentences together?
--------------------------
Anna was trying to make a quick getaway, craving another few minutes alone with Bob. His truck was cozy, and she knew it would feel warm. His voice was sexy, and so was the way he moved. She wanted to kiss him again, even though she knew it was a terrible idea.
"Take some leftovers!"
"No, I'm fine," Anna told the hosts as Bradley tried to talk her into taking some of the extra burgers home. "But thank you." She was terrified that Jess may have said something about how sad Anna's lunches were; she had been doing her best to hide her current financial state from her friends, but she must have slipped up somehow.
"Well, will you come over for dinner one night? I love cooking for Sugar, but I always end up making way too much food."
Anna looked down at her feet. "Sure. I could do that. Jake invited me over there, too. I know he always cooks for Jess."
"Okay," Bradley said, his voice a little rough and his face annoyed when Anna looked up. "I'm a lot better at cooking than Jake is, first of all. Second of all, why don't you have dinner at his lame ass condo, and then let me know what he cooked. Then I'll cook a much better version of it for you and Sugar one night."
She was trying not to laugh; she knew they were competitive, but she didn't know it was quite this bad. "That sounds great, Bradley. Thanks for inviting me over today."
He just waved her off. "You're always welcome. You're one of us." He said it so casually before he started scraping the grill and cleaning it up, Anna just stared at the pattern of his tie dye shirt for a few seconds. He considered her part of this group now? This ridiculously cool friend group? If she thought about it for too long, she knew she would start crying.
"Thanks," she whispered, turning and running directly into Bob's solid chest.
When she looked up at him as her fingers grazed along his shirt, he asked, "You ready to head out?"
"Yeah." Anna felt the slight pressure of Bob's hand at her lower back, guiding her toward the door.
"After you," he said softly.
Anna had to walk inside the house and past Natasha, who she had clearly embarrassed herself in front of before. But the brunette just waved goodbye like she was completely unfazed by the events from earlier. Like it was totally normal for Bob and Anna to be together, heading out front to his truck as the setting sunset turned the sky orange.
Bob pulled the door open and helped her into his truck, and Anna thought maybe it was okay for this to be normal? To get a ride home from Bob after kissing him in her friend's kitchen? To have a painfully unrelenting crush on him that made her feel like perhaps love was a choice that you made for yourself?
She watched him walk around the font of the truck, his glasses catching the last rays of sunlight as the streetlights started to warm up. He was beautiful. He climbed into the truck gracefully and looked at her bashfully. She was the reason he wasn't more confident right now; she knew it, and she was annoyed with herself for it.
He cleared his throat quietly and said, "Before I forget, I have your copy of Papillon." Then he reached for the glovebox, his knuckles brushing her bare knee. "Sorry," he whispered, pulling his hand away immediately.
Anna's heart was in her throat. How was she supposed to tell him that she liked it when he touched her, even by accident. He reached for the glovebox again, this time making sure his movements kept him clear of her leg. "It's okay," she told him, breathing deep. "I didn't mind it."
The only answer she got was Bob carefully handing her worn out book back to her. There was another little note folded up inside which made her remember she never read the one that was in Wuthering Heights before she left it in her office at work. He started the engine. The drive back to her place was too long, and too short at the same time. She was surprised to find that he was heading in the right direction without a reminder about her address. As the sky darkened, Anna tried to listen to the music playing on the radio, but all she could really hear was the sound of her own heart pounding.
When Bob parked the truck in front of her building, she watched him squeeze the steering wheel with both hands while he stared out the windshield. "Anna...when you say you didn't mind it when I touched you...what does that mean? And what happened back at the cookout? Am I allowed to kiss you now? Or am I supposed to just figure out how to get over you?"
She fumbled with her seatbelt, heart thundering at the sound of his unsure voice. She wanted to ask him why he even liked her, because she had literally nothing to offer someone like Bob Floyd. But instead she said, "I meant I like it when you touch me. Even if it's by accident."
He turned to look at her, and when he saw she was crawling across the seat, his eyes went wide, and his hands slid from the steering wheel. "Anna." He inhaled a sharp breath when she planted one hand between his thighs, brushing his jeans with her fingers. She couldn't stand him thinking she didn't want him for another second. He was all she wanted. Somehow moving to San Diego got her some actual friends and a job she liked, and now a decent man with only green flags was into her, and she just couldn't make him think she felt otherwise. Even if they couldn't be together.
Bob's hands were planted on the seat at his sides, and he wasn't moving an inch as Anna straddled his legs. It was dark out, but she could see his gaze dip down to her cleavage before he met her eyes. When he spoke, his voice was deep with need. "Is it okay if I touch you now?"
"Please."
Anna's little cry of delight echoed through the cab of the truck as soon as Bob's hands settled on her bare thighs. His touch was light yet intentional, and it just left her wanting more. He was running his thumb along the frayed edge of her denim shorts, teasing her as he whispered, "I want to kiss you."
She didn't answer. Instead she reached for him, letting her fingers sink into his silky hair, leaning closer until her lips met his again. The kisses in the kitchen had been a little frantic, forcing her to get over the fact that Bob didn't want Natasha. He wanted Anna. But this was something different. Languid and slow. Needy yet decisive. She wanted to touch the rough stubble of his cheek, so she did. She wanted to feel his bottom lip tugged gently between hers, so she did. Then she parted her lips and tasted him.
The scrape of her nails along his jaw had his fingers sliding up inside the bottom of her shorts, and she wished she wasn't wearing them at all. She wanted to know the feel of his hands everywhere. "Anna," he murmured against her lips. She tugged on his hair and kissed him a little rougher, but she gasped and gave up control as soon as his big hands found their way over her shorts to her hips and yanked her snug against him. There was no more polite distance. No more breathing room. Just his hard body pressed to her soft one.
Bob's glasses were cool against her cheek, keeping her grounded as his fingers met the skin of her lower back while he tasted her tongue. His touch tickled her, and she rolled her hips forward, earning a grunt of pleasure from him. "Please," Anna whined, like it was the only word she even knew. Then her mouth was back on his. Bob's fingers traveled an inch higher, and she ground against him, but this time he broke the kiss.
When he tipped his head back, he looked bashful in the glow from the streetlights. She could feel him. He was getting hard for her, and it was delicious. Her brain supplied every suggestive line of poetry it had ever absorbed in her lifetime, and all she wanted was to make him get harder.
She was ready to start unzipping his jeans when he eased his hands away from her body and whispered, "Will you let me walk you to your door? I've been wanting to do that for weeks."
----------------------
It was slow going, trying to get to Anna's apartment door. They kept stopping to kiss, even going so far as to end up with her body pinned between his and the wall in the stairwell. Her soft laughter as he kissed the side of her neck echoed through the enclosed space, and then she said his name.
"Bob."
Actually, it was more like a whine, and it reverberated off of the walls beautifully. "Yes, Anna?" he whispered, letting her lace their fingers together. He wanted to do this all the time. He wanted to be her boyfriend.
She just made a strangled sound as he kissed as many of her freckles as he could get his lips on before pulling her away from the wall. Then they finally made it upstairs to her door. If she invited him inside, he wasn't sure what she would expect. As much as he was ready to skip all of the pleasantries, he knew he needed to do this just right.
"Oh," she whispered, seemingly to herself as she unlocked her door. But she didn't turn the knob as she looked back at him over her shoulder. Her pretty brown eyes flashed with concern, so he took a step away, but then she just looked sad.
"Everything okay?" he asked. She nodded. "Will I get to see you this week? I'd love to buy you a ginger ale at the Hard Deck. Or Chippy's."
She bit her lip before abandoning the door and wrapping her arms around his neck. She was all rough kisses on her tiptoes, and Bob was ready to turn the knob, head inside and deal with the consequences later. But she ran her tongue along his bottom lip before pulling away from him just as quickly. "I need to...I'll see you later, Bob."
In a flash, she squeezed herself in through the smallest gap imaginable, and then she gently closed her apartment door behind her. Bob stood there for a minute, his cock still half hard in his jeans as he stared at the spot where Anna had just been standing. She was giving him whiplash at this point, but maybe he sort of liked that kind of thing.
He quickly adjusted himself in his jeans before heading back downstairs and out into the cool night. He was going to have to ask Jake or Bradley how long he needed to wait before asking Anna out. They would know what to do. And he had Nat back now as well. He had enough resources that he would figure it out.
But the next day after work, they all seemed to make everything more confusing for him.
"So did you finally fuck her then?" Bradley asked casually as he put deodorant on in the locker room.
"Well, no," Bob muttered. "We just made out for a bit."
"Kids these days," Bradley muttered, shaking his head. "Well, did you at least thank Nat? For coming to your rescue?"
Bob sighed, knowing this man was going to be no help after all. "I already talked to Nat," Bob replied as they walked out of the locker room.
Of course Natasha was in the hallway and did a double take. "Did I just hear my name? I've been so popular since I got home yesterday." Her smile slipped into a look of excitement. "Did you fuck the redhead?"
Bob cradled his forehead in his hand. "Her name is Anna. And no, because I'm actually trying to date her."
"Why not both?" Nat asked, leading the way out to the parking lot. "Give that girl what she so desperately wants."
Bob was scared Anna was going to pull away again. He hadn't heard from her at all since last night when she disappeared into her apartment. He wasn't sure if he was supposed to be texting her or not today. It was like he was living in a choose your own adventure story, but somehow none of the options were correct.
He turned right toward his truck while Bradley and Nat both turned left, but then he realized that Jake had parked next to him and was already in his own truck talking on the phone. Bob tried to sneak past, but Jake put his window down and said, "Jess wants to know what's up with you and Anna."
"Is she on the phone?" Bob asked, tossing his bag into his own truck.
"Hi!" came Jessica's voice through Jake's bluetooth. "What did you do to Anna? She was practically singing when she showed up at lunch today."
Bob immediately scrambled toward Jake's truck and stuck his head in the window. "She was?"
"Yes. And she was having a hard time paying attention. You know how she gets when her head is in the clouds."
Jake met Bob's wide eyed gaze and smiled. "You should go to her office hours," the other man drawled. "That's like a green light for fucking on her desk."
"Hey!" Jessica complained through the phone while Bob grimaced. "Jake, keep your mouth shut about it. But yes, Bob, you should go to her office hours. She'd probably really like that. It shows you're thinking about her."
Well Bob was almost never not thinking about Anna, so maybe it wasn't a bad idea. "Take her some flowers," Jake added. "Seriously, man, she'll be handing you her panties within a minute."
"Hey!" came Jessica's voice again, and this time Bob ducked into his own truck, not wanting to hear any more of that conversation.
-----------------------------
Monday was a bit of a blur. The first thing Anna did when she got to her office was grab her copy of Wuthering Heights from her shelf. The note she forgot to read from Bob made her smile right away.
This book made me feel like it's okay to be completely caught up in another person to the point where you forget where you are or what you're doing. Also, I'm going to think of you every time I see a dog eared page for the rest of my life.
She whimpered softly. There had been a similar, slightly more intimate note tucked inside Papillon when she checked it last night after she squeezed herself into her depressingly tiny apartment in embarrassment. She would never be able to invite Bob inside for anything. Not for a cup of tea, and not for a sleepover.
After that, Anna spent the entire night on Sunday reading her favorite poems and touching herself. Sky Writing seemed to have fallen in love, based on his new post. That idea wasn't surprising at all. Anna was convinced he was the perfect man, so it was just a matter of time. But the thing that did surprise her was the way he wrote about a certain woman with red hair. Late into the night, she was laying in her tiny bed with her fingers inside the font of her underwear, picturing Bob as she read the words to herself.
It was almost too much. Her lips were still a little bit puffy on Monday from all the making out, and she felt sated if only by her own touch. She knew Bob's beautiful hands would be so much better, and she was still thinking about them when she went to find her friends at lunchtime.
Tuesday wasn't much better. The only damper was that she hadn't heard a single word from Bob. Nothing. She hadn't texted him either, because what was she supposed to say? Hi, I think I could fall in love with you, but I'm not allowed. Can we still make out? That would be the worst idea in the world.
"She's got her head in the clouds again."
Anna blinked a few times and realized she was sitting by the weird tree with the warm sunlight on her face. Her uneaten sandwich was in her hand, hovering halfway to her mouth, and she had been staring off into the distance. "Sorry," she muttered, finally taking a bite. Her lunch didn't even seem as sad today as she thought about Bob's hands on her thighs.
"Can you blame her?" Jessica asked. "She kissed Bob."
"Not one bit," the other woman said with a grin, as if Anna wasn't even there. "He's a damn catch. Sweetest man ever."
Anna rolled her eyes and said, "As if you aren't married to the human equivalent of a golden retriever."
"Oh, so she is paying attention," Jessica said with a laugh. "We thought you'd blasted off for planet Bob with no return ticket."
"Your astrophysics jokes are the worst," the other woman said, and Jessica pretended to pout.
"Listen. All I know is that he's a great kisser, and that his hands fit really nicely right here," Anna said pointing to her back and her hips. Both women squealed in delight. "But I can't take things any further with him."
"Why not?" Jessica demanded. "The two of you have been playing this game since you met at the bookstore. And also since you met again at the Hard Deck."
Anna thought about Kevin and all of her money that she'd never see again. She thought about her manuscripts she'd put on hold to work three jobs. She thought about how she'd willingly given up Princeton for him.
"I don't want to drag him down to where I am," she whispered, running her finger along the condensation on her can of ginger ale. "I can't be in a relationship." That's all she wanted to say about Bob and Kevin right now, still too afraid to tell her friends everything. So she cleared her throat and asked, "What's with the cooking rivalry between Bradley and Jake? It's like an episode of Chopped." That seemed to open a very controversial can of worms, but at least the focus shifted away from her personal life.
------------------------------
Bob didn't even know what kind of flowers were the right ones to get, and once again, everyone else gave him useless information.
"I rarely get flowers for Sugar. I usually just grab some good beers on my way to pick her up from school, and that's enough to seal the deal. Then I get to drink the beer I like while my hot wife goes dow-"
"We get the picture, Bradshaw," Jake said loudly. "Bob, just get some cheap flowers and save the money to make her dinner one night."
"Do not get her cheap flowers!" Natasha chimed in. "If the two of you weren't attractive looking," she said, pointing to Bradley and Jake, "Sugar and Jessica would have bailed before they bothered to uncover actual brain cells underneath the pretty hair." Both men looked startled before eventually nodding in agreement. "You need to get good flowers and plan to invite her for dinner. Not one or the other," Nat finished, pounding her fist into her other palm. "No wonder Bob never gets laid when I'm not around to straighten everything out."
"Can we not talk about that?" he mumbled, adjusting his glasses. "And it's not like I just want to...get laid. By just anybody."
"Yeah, yeah," Natasha said, tapping away on her phone. "You're a romantic. Go get her flowers like these ones."
Bob examined her screen when she held it up for him. He memorized the red and orange blooms the best he could, and soon they started to remind him of Anna's hair. "Got it," he told her, turning toward his truck before anyone else could tell him something that may or may not end up being useful. He'd get the flowers and then invite her over. He wasn't as good at cooking as Jake or Bradley, but he'd try anyway. He was mostly out of practice since he didn't have anyone to cook for, really, but they both offered to send him their favorite recipes.
The florist was nice and listened to him ramble about orange and red flowers for a minute before putting together something that was even prettier than he could have imagined. The sixty dollar price tag shocked him, but it didn't stop him from also grabbing a book from the front window of the shop next door. It was a new one he'd been wanting to read himself, not quite one of the classics that Anna seemed to favor, but he figured she wouldn't have read it yet. He'd let her borrow it and dog ear all the pages up, and then he'd read it and think about her the whole time.
But when he got to the San Diego State University campus, he sat in his truck and stared at the clock on his dashboard. It was 6:32. She had office hours until 7:00, so he really needed to head in there. Doubt was creeping in now, because they left things off at a weird place. He had no idea what Anna really wanted from him, if anything. If she told him no or hesitated today, he was going to have to start sorting out his feelings for her and dismantling them bit by bit.
It was 6:47 by the time he finally made his way through the academic building on his way to Anna's office. Several people turned and looked at him in his khaki uniform with the huge bouquet of flowers in his hand, and this would have been a lot less stressful if Anna was actually his girlfriend and not a woman he thought might never be that. When he reached the hallway that smelled like freshly baked bread, he found her small office right away where it was tucked back from the main walkway. The door was ajar, and he could hear her voice, so he stood there in the hallway a little awkwardly, trying to fight the urge to run back to his truck.
The door opened another inch, and Bob could see Anna's fingers and her burgundy painted nails peeking out as her voice got louder. "Here's a copy of the extra study guide. Don't forget there's a quiz on Monday. If you can ace that, then I think you'll be in better shape for the final. And try not to be too hard on yourself, Hemingway can be a bit of a challenge for anyone."
"Thanks, Dr. Webber."
The door opened all the way, and a young man filed out with a frown on his face, and then Anna was just standing there right in front of Bob. Her hair was in a loose braid, her lips had some sort of purple-ish gloss on them, and she was wearing some snug jeans and an SDSU sweatshirt. "Bob," she breathed, and it sounded like music. Her gaze raked over his uniform and the vibrant flowers before returning to his face, brown eyes more vulnerable than he ever thought they should be.
"Hi, Anna." He couldn't think of anything better to say as she backed up a step into her small office and nodded her head once for him to join her. After two of his long strides, Bob was practically bumping into her desk. Then she closed the door and leaned against it, hands tucked behind her back.
She cleared her throat, but her voice was still soft as she said, "You look nice in your uniform."
"Thanks," he replied automatically. She could have said anything, and he would have thanked her.
"Those are beautiful. Are they for me?" she whispered, eyes falling to the flowers again.
"Of course they are."
Bob watched her eyelashes brush her cheeks as her eyes fluttered closed. "You didn't have to do that. Flowers are so expensive."
"I got you a book, too," he said, sliding it out from behind the bouquet. Her eyes snapped open so she could read the title, and he said, "It's a new release, so I was hoping you didn't preorder it or anything."
Anna's cheeks were growing pinker by the second, making her freckles look more prominent. He was about to ask if she wanted to come over for dinner one night when she launched herself across the three feet of empty space, colliding softly with his body. Bob dropped the flowers and the book onto her desk just as she kissed him, her arms coming up to wrap around his neck.
She kissed him like they did this all the time, and his hands went right to her waist where they fit perfectly. "Thank you," she murmured against his lips. "Nobody ever got me books before you."
The words before you echoed in his brain. He didn't want there to be an after. He wanted this to be the real deal where neither of them had to be in a relationship where they weren't constantly trading books back and forth with someone.
Anna kissed him until his glasses were crooked, and she raked her fingers through his hair until he was sure it was a mess. And somehow she ended up pushing him back until he was sitting on the edge of her desk with his long legs splayed apart. He knew he was in trouble; he could feel himself slipping already. She let her hands trail down the back of his neck, over his shoulders, and down the front of his shirt. She adjusted all of his pins and touched his name tag along the way as her lips barely brushed his. Her fingers moved so slowly, he thought maybe he could get himself under control, but it was no use. He was hard in his pants, and her exploratory hands weren't stopping.
"Anna."
All that did was make her kiss him harder again.
"Please."
All that did was have her pressing the font of her jeans to his khakis with a little gasp. Maybe the guys had been right about this kind of thing after all. Maybe visiting her during office hours was all it was going to take to get to the next level. Her fingers made it all the way down to his thighs, scraping along just inches from his erection, and Bob was afraid he was going to embarrass himself. He thought about icebergs and refrigerators and the Arctic Circle, but nothing alleviated the aching heat under his skin as Anna licked his lip and almost nudged the tip of his cock.
But then she said the most devastating sentence he could think of. "Bob, I really like you. But we're just friends, okay?" Then she kissed him again like she hadn't spoken something so harsh, and he thought maybe he imagined it. "Just really good friends who make out with each other."
"Fuck," he grunted, trying to get control even as his hands kneaded the bare skin of her lower back. "Anna." He swallowed hard and pulled his mouth away from hers, examining her wide eyes. Her teeth sank into her pouty bottom lip when he said, "I was going to invite you over for dinner later this week."
"As friends?" she whispered, her hands still planted on his thighs.
Bob nodded like an idiot, because once again, he was going to agree to anything she said right then. "Sure."
She kissed him softly and said, "Okay."
-------------------------
But is it okay? Is it really? Next up, let's see how this dinner goes. We might need Nat to fully step in and take care of business again. Also, I love Bradley and Jake in this chapter so so so much! Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls
PART 9
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hi love <3
could you maybe write for pierre :
Like you and your friends are talking about pierre, who alsways wants everything to be perfect in bed but y/n also wants to have quickes. Pierre hears the conversation and decides to show you how capable he is of having quickies with you.
thank you in advance bae ( :
-quickies-
summary : you and you're friends are talking about how pierre doesn't have quickies with you. Pieere hears the conversation and decides to change it.
PAIRING : pierre gasly x fem!reader
WARNINGS : +18, smut, NSFW, dirty talk, dom!pierre, fingering, spanking, p in v, badly translated french, curse words, public sex, unprotected sex (be safe!)
note : i hope you like it! Send in more requests and i will work them off! Love you <3
masterlist
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Pierre opened the front door of your apartment, with the keys you had given him for emergencies, and walked up the stairs to your bedroom, as you hadn't opened the door, when he sent you the message that he was in front of your house.
His step haltered, when he heard his name being mentioned, followed by a very know loud girl group laugh. He stopped in the middle of the stairs and waited quietly.
"So what is he like? Is he like a machine in bed too? Like a beast? " One of the girls asked, cackling, and he chuckled quietly with a shake of his head, a smile visibly on his face.
"No," he head your voice and the smile on his face grew wider. Of course, he wasn't cold and clinical during sex. If there was something people couldn't accuse him, it was the lack of passion.
"I mean, he does want it to be perfect all the time, so in a sense..." He held his breath, his brows knitted together, as he listened to her carefully, being visibly confused.
"You, girl, you're saying that like that's a problem." One of her friends laughed loud and he huffed. He couldn't understand why this sounded more like a complaint than a compliment.
"All my man does for me is put it in and take it out." Pierre's spine straightened a little bit, a smirk tugged at the side of his lip. He could go for hours, and loved to go for hours.
"Of course it isn't a problem, but sometimes I just wish he could do quickies without having to plan a day ahead," you exclaimed.
"Quickies are nice, but we don't have them, you know. I can't just say that we have ten minutes before the race starts or let's have a quickie in the shower before you need to go to the airport, because well... it wouldn't be perfect."
Pierre's eyebrows raised to his hairline. He figured you liked that he'd rather wait than just get it out of the way like it was a meaningless act. You were always the more sensitive one, and so he made sure that you felt cherished and treasured even when you were in bed together.
He couldn't wrap his mind around what the problem with that was. "But the thing is sometimes, you just need to fuck without any special treatment." you stated.
His fingers tapped against the railing before he inhaled deeply and walked up the rest of the stairs. No one had ever had the nerves to complain about his performance in bed. But if you wanted to be fucked, he could give it to her now.
"Good evening, ladies." He flashed them his most dazzling smile before he walked straight to you, grabbed you by the elbow and pulled you up and after him.
"What the... Pierre..." you complained, your voice slightly off from the booze you clearly had, one glass of wine as always, but it was enough to get her tipsy a little bit.
He completely ignored her words, and walked down the stairs, dragged you with him without haltering even for a second. You could only see the sight of his face, but you knew that look very well. He was pissed.
Pierre's jaw was clenched, his fingers dag into your arm so hard you wondered if you were going to get bruises later on. When you both hit the floor area. He turned to the right and headed towards your home office.
"Baby." Your hand tugged at his shirt, but he brushed your fingers off with a low grumble. You bit your bottom lip, felt your panties soaking trough between your legs.
There was something beautiful in a raging Pierre Gasly, how his eyes turned from a light colour to a darker one, his determination shining through. He was always like a force of nature, but these times, he reminded you of a tornado.
"What are you even... Pierre, they are going to... the girls will know..." you said breathlessly as he pulled you into the tiny room and closed the door behind you.
Pierre pushed you up against the wall of the tiny home office, wasting no time before he parted your legs and his hand slipped between your legs, making you almost buckle.
"Je n’en ai rien à foutre qui entende quand je te baise la cervelle," he growled in a low voice, another wave of wetness gushed between your thighs. I don't give a fuck who hears when I fuck your brains out,
"Qu’est-ce qui t’a pris?" You asked, accompanied by a moan, as he pushed your panties aside and thrusted two fingers into your pussy. What the hell has gotten into you?
"Ma copine ne peut pas se plaindre que je ne la baise pas correctement." He grabbed your jaw and pounded his fingers hard in you, in and out, fast and mercyless, his palm brushed over your swollen clit in small circles. My girlfriend can not complain that I don't fuck her properly.
Your knees trembled, and you could feel the familiar pull in your belly approaching you way too fast. Your hips lifted to pierre's hand and a whimper escaped your mouth, when his knuckles brushed over your sweet spot.
His fingers sank into your jaw deeper for a moment, and you hissed quietly. You were about to reply, as he pulled his fingers from your soaking hole and with a well planned moves grabbed you by the hair and pushed your face on the table.
The air, getting knocked out of your lungs, when your upper body hits the hard surface. You could hear him unbuckling his belt behind her and glanced over your shoulder.
Your boyfriend's big veiny hands wrapped tightly around both ends of the belt, and you felt your core pulsing with need, your ass lifted into the air involuntarily.
"Je n’ai pas le temps de parler en ce moment, juste une salope rapide." He smirked at you before the belt came around your wrists and pulled so tight, the leather cut into her skin. I have no time to talk right now, just a quickie, slut.
Your thighs quivered, and you could hear him huffing when you spread your legs just a bit wider. He looked you up and down before giving your ass a little pat.
"Tu vas crier mon nom, princesse, ne laissant aucun doute à quiconque à l’étage sur la façon dont je peux te baiser," You're going to scream my name, princess, leaving no doubt for anyone upstairs just how properly I can fuck you,
You could feel the tip of his cock against your entrance, and you tried to push back to him, but his hand came around your waist and held you so tight, you knew for sure the edge of the table was going to bruise your hipbone.
"Watch the clock. 10 minutes." He ordered, and your gaze fell on the small table clock. Pierre was unbelievable. You were about to make another snarky comment, but he was faster than you.
Without giving you even a moment to adjust to his size, Pierre thrusted into you with one swing of his hips, and you cried out. Tiny colourful blurs appeared in your vision as his cock invaded your tightness, every little bundle of nerves alive for the rough treatment he was giving you.
Pierre was a man on a mission, no doubt about it, fucking you so hard, the table moved inch by inch forwards. You could do nothing but scream as he held you down by the waist and pounded into you so powerful, you were a trembling mess in no time.
"Putain viens me chercher, qu’ils l’entendent." His hand landed on your ass with such strength, the print of his palm coloured your butt checks red, over and over again. Fucking come for me, let them hear it.
He switched between your cheeks before you cried out in desperation, the power of your orgasm nearly knocking you off your feet. It wasn't enough for him tough, not far enough.
"Eyes still on the clock, I hope." He smacked your burning red ass one more time to get your attention and to not let you slip into the bliss of your orgasm just yet.
"3 more minutes." you mumbled, as an answer through your haze, your breathing heavy as you pushed back into him, unable to follow the speed that he dictated.
"Alors vous pouvez m’en donner un de plus, n’est-ce pas?" He growled before one of his hands slipped from around your waist over the line of your spine up lightly to your hair, and he pulled you up against his body. Then you can give me one more, right?
Your eyes rolled back into the back of your head when the angle changed and his cock brushed against your g-spot repeatedly, sending all of your cells into a frenzy.
"Fuck, fuck, fuck, Pierre, please!!" You screamed, pierre's thumb brushed over your clit and your body crashed against his when you came undone with a glass chattering scream.
Your swollen pussy clamped down on him, his thrusts turned erratic as he fucked you through your second orgasm before he followed you with a low grunt.
""Was that quick and unexpected enough for you?
"I petition you to be spontaneous more often."
"Next time you criticize how I fuck you, I'm not letting you come for a week." You laughed out but instantly nodded because you knew too well Pierre and his punishments were not to be taken lightheartedly.
#pierre gasly one shot#f1#formula one#formula 1#f1 smut#f1 imagine#f1 one shot#pierre gasly fanfic#pierre gasly imagine#pierre gasly#pierre gasly x reader#pierre gasly drabble#pierre gasly smut#pierre gasly f1#pierre gasly x y/n#pierre gasly x you#dom!pierre gasly
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