#crypto x you

[1-800-c0sm1c]

꒰win it all !꒱

to build hype around the new season, your arrival to the games was kept a secret up until it went live, and some legends had more notable reactions than others.

character x legend!reader

includes crypto, octane, and mirage !

a/n : im sorry ive been gone but look i made you some contenttttt daddy made you your favorite open wide 🥳. im noticing a severe lack of apex fanfics rn so here is my contribution 🤲.

warnings : mentions of stalking (average crypto behavior), drugs (average octane behavior), & mentions of hooking up (you guessed it, average mirage behavior).

CRYPTO // TAEJOON PARK: 

crypto doesnt like surprises, period. its one thing if its mediocre like a birthday party, but a whole person was hidden under his nose and he had no idea? unacceptable.

in summary, youve shattered his ego simply from your presence. not cool.

hes not really known for looking approachable either, so unless youve got the balls or stupidity to talk to him, hell keep to himself and sulk. this sets back any plans he had in the back of his mind by a whole season.

when you introduce yourself to him on the dropship he practically ignores you, acting as if anything else is more interesting than this small talk.

"hi im y/n, ive heard a lot about you from mirage. nice to meet you!" he rolls his eyes, witt is always one to blabber about others.

you scoff at his response, "dont expect me to be as open and idiotic as elliott." he almost adds you to that list, but holds back on it. if anything lifeline has told him holds weight, you could be useful to get information from the syndicate.

"im crypto by the way." he continues, if he plays his cards right you could almost be worth his time.

getting paired with you and mirage was almost comical, its as if the games were trying to make his life as hard as possible.

you got along annoyingly well with mirage, but you seemed more hesitant when it came to crypto, which was truly bothered him. (it was not jealousy at all. he was not jealous whatsoever. nope, definitely not.)

hes struggling to interact with you, like he does with most of the other legends, but youre a different case due to how useful you could be to him. thats usually the reasoning he uses when he racks his brain for ideas to come across less mean without irreparably ruining his reputation.

as if his prayers had been answered, a few hours after your first game you appear in the doorway to his room with a piece of high tech equipment in your hand. but your expression is different from how it was before. you appear upset, how can you be angry with him already? youve barely interacted!

if you want to be pissy, so can he. "can i help you? he asks, annoyance in his voice. "im almost sure you can, brilliant hacker." you drop the equipment in front of him on his desk, distracting him from his current project. he scowls. "what exactly am i looking at here?" you roll your eyes. "you tell me, this is clearly yours right? found it in my room." 

he examines the object, looks like a hidden camera. "ive never seen this before, if you want me to fix it call someone else, im not tech support." he pushes it to the side, but youre not having it. "nuh-uh, you cant brush this off. i know youve created the cameras used to record the games, this has to be your tech!"

so you think hes stalking you? thats a good idea honestly, he wish he had thought of it first. "just because i created those doesnt mean i also designed this. looks like someone else wants to keep an eye on you. got anyone in mind?" you pause for a moment, letting his words sink in. why cant it just be an open and shut case?

"i have no idea, i just got here! is anyone else even knowledgeable enough to design something like this?" he shrugs. "looks can be deceiving." "will you at least help me figure out whos stalking me?" he wants to say no. he knows its bad news, especially for someone like him to get involved in. but its a great opportunity to get closer to you. closer to his end goal, and despite it truly not being the only reason, he decides its good enough for him. "i guess i can make time, tell me about your interactions since youve joined." 

from this point on, you and crypto get much closer, it feels like he knows everything about you. (maybe he does honestly 💀.)

but you can tell hes getting frustrated when it comes to the hidden camera, and you cant help but feel like a nuisance. 

on the surface, crypto looks like you are whats stressing him out. why hes angrier than usual, why hes drowning himself in his work. and in a way thats true, but not exactly.

in reality, hes more worried for your safety. your arrival was an entire surprise, so how could someone have infiltrated your room to begin with? he cant figure it out, and almost entirely forgets the original reason he wanted to get to know you. 

its no longer a matter of getting information, that can wait. he has all season after all. but someone else trying to watch you? he wont tolerate it, and wants it to be the first thing thats fixed, he likes you much better when youre not paranoid, not like him.

OCTANE // OCTAVIO SILVA:

HYPED!!! another legend is always exciting to octane, even more so when he gets lucky enough to be paired with them.

octavio can be a bit much at times, but you match his energy almost perfectly! 

dedication to the apex games, and genuinely having a great time, not finding him annoying??? he should ask if youre into hard drugs too at this point.

anyone who goes up against the two of you on a team together should fear for their lives. octane swears hes never had so much fun in a match before. (almost as much fun as id have if kings canyon was in the map rotation this season ☹.)

theres a voice in the back of his head that he cant shake, telling him youre someone sent from the syndicate to mess with him, or maybe something worse.

he doesnt want to risk making you upset with him (like some other legends) so he reluctantly keeps these thoughts to himself, but due to his online personality being so similar to his real self, you almost immediately notice a change.

you decide to confront octane after the match, and originally he completely disregards your questions.

"what are you on about, compadre? im fine, really!" but youre not having it, and octane knows youre not going to drop this so easily.

"i just cant help but think this isnt how you usually act outside of games." you shrug when he asks for your reasoning of pressing on. "well how would you know? you just got here." he chuckles. "which i think is exactly why youre hiding things from me. i understand though, its hard to trust someone you just met. i only had an outsiders perspective up until a few hours ago."

"thats exactly whats so scary about you amigo. you seem like youre some fuckin syndicate spy!" "why? because we get along?" octane sighs. maybe having a legend who understands him is a bad thing. its easier to justify someone who hates him, theres plenty reason to. but like him? enjoy his company? hes confused, to say the least.

hes frantically reaching for one of his stims, if his mind is going to be racing so frantically, the rest of his body might as well do the same. "lets leave this here for now, yeah? ive got some videos to film!" he gets up quickly, but stops dead in his tracks when you offer to help him with his stunts. he whips around back over to you. "you sure?" you nod with a smile that might make him more energetic than any stim could. "alright cmon cmon cmon! i hope you known how to hold a camera, if you miss any good shots im gonna be pissed!"

rumors start about octanes elusive camera operator, all kinds of misinformation spreads too, some of it crazier than others. 

you personally find it funny, sometimes tempting the viewers by almost flipping it around to show your face, but youre stopped by octane and his ridiculously fast reflexes everytime.

"hey hey amigo no need to ruin the mystery! plus you totally just didnt film that awesome stunt i just did! what am i paying you for!?" 

you try your best to stop yourself from laughing, but at this point youre sure it must be obvious its you behind the camera, youre just going along with the "mystery" because octane asked you to by whispering in your ear that it "increases his interaction" or whatever influencer bullshit. (you were more focused on his voice than what he was saying tbh 🧍.)

the other legends are sick of you two at this point, and are just about ready to expose the "secret" to get octane to shut up 😭. when i say you guys are always together doing stupid shit i mean ALWAYS!!

MIRAGE // ELLIOTT WITT:

a flirt wbk. expect to be invited to lots of yacht parties.

mirage is known to have a very welcoming aura, and you noticed this the second you first interacted on the dropship. (anyone wanna take me out? come find me 🤭.)

you guys are on the same team for tdm, and he is almost constantly by your side.

someone sneaks up behind you? hes already sending a decoy their way so you can get the upper hand.

in case you miss? no worries, hes right behind you with pinpoint accuracy. (talk about a great first impression.)

you guys absolutely crushed the opposite team 50-15, and mirage hurriedly rushes over to you the second the match is concluded to invite you to his celebration party that night.

youre more surprised he has the energy to still keep going after such an intensive match, and you barely get the chance to say maybe before hes walking away excitedly.

uh, actually i might sit this one out-" "cool, cool, cool. ill see you tonight!"

lets just say things get… interesting on the mirage a trois 😀.)

you hooked up on the boat okay, youre not the first (and might not be the last either.)

parties werent necessarily your thing, but after elliott had practically won the game for you today, you figured showing up was the least you could do to return the favor. you were honestly just hoping the yacht didnt blow up like youd heard about his other ones doing…

you arrive way later than everyone else in hopes that you arent the first person there, but your current situation is almost just as awkward as everyone assumes you managed to get lost on your way here. (as if you could miss mirages yacht if you tried…) however, you probably did look just as lost as everyone assumed you were while trying to find mirage in the sea of decoys and other party guests.

when you finally stop getting bamboozled and find the real mirage, you try to explain you were only stopping by out of politeness, but hes not having any of it. "what do you mean youre leaving already? weve gotta make up for all the partying time lost while you werent here!" he hands you a drink and leads you to a table with crypto and wattson, who seem to have just had an… important conversation interrupted with your presence.

"if theres anyone you wanna get to know in the games, other than me of course, these are the legends!" youre almost amazed at how mirage chooses to ignore the awkward atmosphere hes created, and manages to smooth it over in record time as well. crypto looks as annoyed as ever, meanwhile wattson attempts her best at a conversation with the group, and you almost wish you never showed up in the first place.

‘almost’ is the key word here, you knew deep down you didnt really have anywhere else to be, and going along with whatever such an attractive legend says was surely better than staying in your dorm room and missing out on a night of fun. which is exactly why when elliott leaned closer to your ear and said something that definitely wasnt pg-friendly, you downed your drink and made quick goodbyes to his friends before leaving to a secluded area of the yacht with the party host himself. 

i think by now the other legends are just waiting for you two to finally announce theres something between you. 

everyone, and i mean everyone seems to know, and i swear rampart is one more flirtatious comment away from exposing your corny asses during the next match.

however, youre hesitant. youre still incredibly new to the games, isnt it odd for things to be moving so fast?

sure, elliott is great, but you cant help but have an anxious feeling in your stomach, and making the mistake of looking at comments online surely isnt helping either.

mirage noticed your shift in behavior immediately, hes been around you more than any of the other legends, and he expects to be the first to hear of whats troubling you (if youre okay with it, of course).

he might not seem like it at first glance, but mirage really is a great listener. despite your first impressions of him making him out to be well… a party-loving flirt, he has so many more layers to him than whats on the surface level.

when he gets serious, hes not cracking his usual jokes, although hes still got his awkward charm. 

"i just… feel like were moving too fast. its only been a month since ive joined the game after all…"

he thinks for a moment before responding calmly, "well i mean, if you wanna take things slower, all you had to do was ask. besides we have all the time in the world! as long as you dont have some secret plan to leave the games or something, than were fine!" you smile at him.

okay, maybe he does still joke a little bit, put i promise its fine in context 😭😭.

can you tell i like crypto (especially jealous crypto) a totally normal amount 😦 totally not inspired by the mcc song by derivakat 🫶

#✧;;↬ my work.❞┊🍓 #apex legends #apex legends x reader #crypto #park tae joon #octane #octavio silva #mirage #elliott witt #crypto x reader #octane x reader #mirage x reader #apex legends fanfic #apex crypto x reader #apex octane x reader #apex mirage x reader #crypto x you #octane x you #mirage x you #apex legends x you

[spectrumspace]

sees post about tumblr banning transfemmes. on a complete whim decides to look up the url of someone on the list of nuked blogs.

one result is a melodramatic "callout" where op talks about their mental health in a "woe is me" manner for several paragraphs at length before naming and shaming the nuked blog in question for sending them death threats, though absolutely zero evidence is provided, not even a screenshot or direct quote of what the message even contained.

checks op's blog.

Literally the only thing they post is AI-generated images of Herry Puttor characters.

#ada weblog tag #tw transphobia #//oh yes i believe you op!! i believe you are providing us with the full context of what the trans blogger sent you! #//btw unrelated can you say ''trans rights are human rights'' for me real quick #//like i was expecting/looking for some kinda crypto-torf shenanigans #//but every single post was of like. pixar-style ai lilee x snope. ai lilee pregnant in a wedding dress. brooding ai drake omalfey.

[miamierre]

hi i cleaned up that little bit of my crypto disaster au <3 ty hawkers. ty pear.

tw: drug mentions

It’s not like Charles hasn’t worn a suit before.

Shit, he’d been in one the other weekend for his brother’s engagement party—all loud laughter and smiles, a big celebration of the youngest of his family getting married to the girl of his dreams the way everyone always knew he would. It had been a fun evening. Charles was comfortable, happy the whole time. He does know how to wear clothes to a party, after all, even if he does have a cohort of sleazy regulars who would probably say the opposite.

But standing here in the lobby of White Oaks Rehab, waiting on his appointment to be confirmed by the very nice lady at the front desk, he just can’t stop fidgeting with the cuffs of his shirt—like he’s at his first school dance and not a respectable adult. It’d started as a quick adjustment to his cufflinks when he’d first arrived and told the receptionist that he was a coworker of Pierre’s, but the burn of fraudulence had caught up with him quickly. There are a few other people in the waiting area with him, focused entirely on their phones or with their heads buried in the magazines left out, but Charles feels like they’re all staring at him as if they know.

Which—they can’t know, can they? That he’s not a business man, that he doesn’t work in finance, that these cufflinks are ones he’d snagged from the Lost and Found back at home base from a client who’d left them behind ages ago. He hadn’t even said anything to the receptionist to try and prove his fake identity. Yet the white walls, plain as they are, feel almost suffocating as he sits in one of the corner chairs and fiddles with his stupid shirt. (He’s glad he decided to leave the blazer where it was—it doesn’t even feel like the air conditioner is on right now, and he desperately hopes he put on enough deodorant before to avoid looking like a nervous kid swallowed up in his first suit.

“Mr. Leclerc?” The woman at the front desk calls across the room. Charles practically jumps to attention, all the nerves of this brash trip he’d successfully tamped down before now surging back. She must be able to tell—with a friendly smile, she gestures for him to approach the desk, a clipboard nestled in her free arm. “Mr. Gasly will see you now. If you’ll just sign this waiver form right here, I can take you right to him.”

He doesn’t even read what he’s signing off on before he goes for it. All he can hear is the blood rushing in his ears at the thought of this—of seeing Pierre again after weeks of being apart and thinking that this, whatever has been happening between them, had ended before Charles even knew it had begun. It’s exciting.

It’s absolutely terrifying.

The woman nods at him, smile still measured and calm like she can read all of Charles’ anxieties clear on his face, and then sets the clipboard back on the counter. “Am I going to meet him in a room?” The question bubbles out of him before he has a chance to think it through.

She laughs, soft. “Mr. Leclerc, this isn’t prison. I’ll be taking you to his room, and from there, the two of you have free reign of our entire rehabilitation campus.” From the way her expression seems to soften with understanding, it’s clear that she can tell he’s starting to get antsy about visiting. “Don’t worry. It’s much scarier for you right now than it is for your friend. Come with me, I’ll take you right to him.” And, with a quick nod of her head, they’re off—her in her remarkably tall heels clicking across the tiled floor, him trying his damnedest not to trip over his own two feet in these clunky dress shoes.

The nerves from before seem to double in size with every step they take. This was a stupid idea, he thinks frantically as they turn a corner. Impulsive, thoughtless, stupid stupid stupid. He’s only been hooking up with Pierre at parties that his company literally hires him for. He’d quite literally been paid to spend the night in Pierre’s lap, pressed in his side, encouraging him to indulge and indulge until he couldn’t indulge anymore. It benefitted him to be there, to do this, to be Pierre’s playboy bunny or whatever.

And, sure—Charles likes him. A lot. The number of fantasies he’s had lately that end with Pierre liking him back are too embarrassing to count. But Charles is also self-aware enough to know he’s an attractive guy, and that he’s very good at his job. The version of himself that Pierre has known all these months is one who’s always drenched in glitter and only wears shirts that match the colors of his thongs. In so many ways, Pierre only knows Charles in the dark.

There’s no dark here whatsoever. Quite literally, too, considering the enormous skylights built into the ceiling that are spilling sunlight onto the olive-colored carpet without remorse. Charles doesn’t have the fallback of his job to lean on if this goes south. He doesn’t have the dark, or the clothes, or the music or anything—it’s only him, and this definitely insane decision to visit his kind-of client at rehab. Rehab. He shouldn’t have done this, he shouldn’t have gone this far—

“Right here, Mr. Leclerc.” The woman stops at door 1016 and knocks, once. Then, leaning towards it more: “Your guest has arrived, Mr. Gasly.”

“Fantastic,” Pierre’s muffled voice comes from behind the door, and oh this is suddenly very real. Charles can’t imagine the amount of sweat that must be pouring off him right now. He glances at the receptionist, practically pleading for her to take him back, but she just nods once and turns back the way they came, somehow managing to glide away fast enough to leave Charles entirely by himself when Pierre opens the door.

He looks…good. Not that he ever didn’t, really, but it’s been a little over a month since Charles had actually seen him last, and it definitely hadn’t been this clearly. He looks like he’s put on weight—muscle, sure, but just plain weight, too, enough of it for Charles to realize, correctively, that he must’ve really been wasting away at those parties night after night with all the booze and the substances he’d been indulging in. Cocaine is a hell of a drug.

“Pierre,” he starts, but then loses the nerve to continue. I wanted to check in on you sounds too much like he’s family. I missed you feels clingy. You look good seems—well, it seems appropriate—

“You clean up nicely, Charlie,” Pierre murmurs appreciatively, eyeing him up and down once before opening the door to his apartment space a little wider. “Come in, come in.” His hand comes to rest on Charles’ shoulder, big and warm the way it always is, and the feel of it burns right through his dress shirt. Fuck.

“Thank you,” he manages as he allows Pierre to guide him inside. The room is—sparse. It’s not exactly luxury apartment living, nor is it anything like the hazy memory Charles has of the one night Pierre had actually brought him home to his place. But the light is bright, and things are clean, and Pierre’s smile is still vibrant as ever even in this context, so he probably shouldn’t be comparing too heavily. “You look good.”

“Yeah?” That crooked smile twitches across his face, contagious as ever. “I was worried you would not like what you saw in daylight, you know.” He turns around before Charles can protest more aggressively that, no, there’s no way that could happen because he’s pretty sure he’s on the precipice of falling in love. (Not that he’d say that out loud, but—but—) “Water?”

“I—I’m good,” Charles says. Pierre hums in acknowledgment, then grabs the glass sitting on his countertop and walks towards the refrigerator, where he pours a glass for himself. When he saunters back over, he settles down on a dining room chair and gestures for Charles to join him. Wordlessly, he does. Then: “You shouldn’t.”

It comes out of his mouth on its own volition, sounding more like a blurted confession than an actual, normal statement. Pierre raises a confused eyebrow at him. Charles feels the blush starting to crawl up his neck at a steadier pace. “Worry, I mean. About me not liking what I—you know. I do.” A glass of water seems like a nice option right now. Stupid. “I—daylight doesn’t, um, change much for me.” It’s about as collected as he knows how to be right now.

Pierre, who had been sipping on his drink, sets it down onto the table before him. “Really?” He sounds…different, like this. Maybe it’s the wide-open space. Maybe it’s the absence of something bass-heavy thudding through the floorboards. There’s something in his voice, now, that Charles can hear is—human. Nervous, or maybe self-conscious? Neither of those things apply to the Pierre he’s spent so much time with.

But this Pierre is different than that one, Charles knows. Even from here, this one is healthier. This one is figuring his shit out. “Yeah,” he manages in reply, choking a little on his too-heavy tongue. “Yeah, no, you—daylight suits you, mon petit.”

Pierre laughs in reply. Bright, sharp, a little absurd considering Charles hadn’t even been aiming for funny, but—it’s a nice sound, when he hears it unobstructed. A sound he could get used to again, but for real this time. “I did not think you could get more beautiful, Charlo,” he murmurs, loud grinning now having softened into a quieter smile, “but I was wrong.”

#still not tagging just bc i dont wanna fill said tag w my nonsense but. yeah. #hawkers really said ''phoebe you are going to write this fic or we will kill you.'' and you know what #10 x 16 #fic #au tag #I PROMISE IM NOT GONNA DELETE IT THIS TIME #crypto au

[shumpie-doesnt-exist]

this is the person who posts on this account. i just hope you know that.

#shrimp #i hate you #i lied sorry #eddie munson x you #nft crypto #death metal #twitimported #i guess

[keeganmantle]

Frye is holding me after Twitter's situation today.😊

Apparently Musk is considering charging us to use it now. What did I just say? Everytime, every month, he breaks the platform or does something very stupid! What is that gonna do?! How is that gonna drive away bots it's just gonna make things worse! Because of Musk I dealt with creeps again. Crypto replies, sussy lists, s*x bots! I dealt with them all!!!!!!😐

Frye is freaking out over my safety. Will I leave Twitter? I'll wait 'till 2024 if it craps itself bigtime. That is if Twitter is still up next year. How is it still up?! How?!?!?!?! Rant over.😁

Twitter is becoming Facebook. My biggest fear. I can't take this anymore. Go ahead, Musk! Kill Twitter! Just shut it down! I dare you! I'm done!😥

#splatoon #comfort characters #best girls #twitter #screw crypto #screw elon musk #screw perverts #screw scammers #screw x #frye #thank you #love #i'm done

[gremlingottoosilly]

Can we get some Sugar Daddy König X Sugar Baby Bimbo!reader that actually is a little oblivious to the fact she is a sugar baby, "oh the colonel? He's just a fwb who likes to pay for dinner and buy me expensive gifts that's all, he's just like really nice"

Konig really doesn't know where to put his money. He bought a house, a car, and a collection of guns that already go over legal limits. He was thinking about buying a second house somewhere warm, but then he thinks about having to take care of that property too, and his head starts to hurt. He wants to put his money into something nice - he has investments, usually something that Hutch is telling him to invest too because he knows more about tech and crypto and other useless stuff. And the colonel still has a huge chunk of money lying around every month. He didn't even notice that he started to pay for your...everything, at first. Even when you were just friends, you were playing this perfect little game of him bringing you money and you never taking your wallet out of the bag. He likes to spoil you. Gifts, food, new clothes - he doesn't knows anything about clothing brands and expensive gadgets, but you start to chirp about wanting new heaphones or a brand of lip gloss that is sooo trendt eight now, and he likes to listen to you speak. Maybe he is playing his old-school fantasy of having a hot, popular girl actually talk to him instead of bullying and yelling. Maybe he is trying to compensate for his lack of female attention. Maybe he is trying to buy you. He knows that you aren't using him because, by god, your pretty little head is too empty to conjure such a scheme. You're always so surprised when he brings you gifts, and you thank him so cheerfully. Bouncing on his cock like a good girl, not because he is asking you to, but because you really just want to cheer him on. Sucking his cock and spreading that expensive lip gloss all over because he is such a cool dude, much better than your friend's boyfriends. Your friends are so jealous about you having such a great sugar daddy, but you don't even realize that Konig is one. Honestly, if you weren't the one initiating sex, he probably wouldn't even ask you to. He brings you gifts and pops a boner whenever you hug him, and then you get sad because he is lonely and rich and so so miserable, you'll just straddle his hips and ride him until you both see stars. He never asked you to have sex in exchange for gifts. You just...like to accept them. And you like sex. Konig simply likes you too.

#cod #konig x reader #konig #yandere konig #cod x reader

[angrythingkidtoad]

#bmwmotorsport #levi x you #flowmanostat #internet computer #internet #innovator #FORBES #bmwworld #INDUSTRY #jet life #porta 400 #USA #germany #crypto #NEAR #makersmovement #FLOWMAASTER

[froggibus]

Power Trip - Miguel O’Hara

Pairing: Miguel O’Hara x f! Reader (reader uses female pronouns + has a pussy)

Genre: smut/NSFW

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: Miguel comes to your universe seeking comfort, but gets the opposite when he sees you on a date

CW: kinda sorta maybe dubcon?, friends with benefits, dom! Miguel, sub! Reader, jealous! Miguel, possessiveness, fingering, oral (f! receiving), slight orgasm denial, begging, sub/dom dynamics, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it <3), creampie, Miguel is kind of an asshole

ive been incredibly down bad for this man lately so here is the result of my 2am thirst writing lol <3 also idkidk I just love the idea of fwb with Miguel and him being super possessive while also being noncommittal

————

It’s late by the time Miguel is back in your universe, but you’re nowhere to be seen in your studio apartment. He knows you were here recently, he can smell it. Smell your perfume lingering in the air. 

The sweet smell floods his senses and only adds to his annoyance. Where are you going this late at night, dressing up all nice and smelling so sweet? Who are you seeing?

The thought of you going on a date has the adrenaline pumping through his veins. You’re his. You should be with him. 

He pulls his mask back over his face and climbs out of your window, pulling out his phone. He opens up the app he installed on your phone to track you, narrowing his eyes when he sees the red dot pulsing at a bar. 

Because of course you’re at a bar. 

Miguel watches you from the shadows of the rooftop across the street. You’re all dressed up, sipping on a Manhattan while some loser chats you up. He can’t help but size the guy up—he could snap him like a twig with one arm. 

What the hell are you doing with a guy like that?

You can feel eyes on you, and not just from the guy in front of you talking about his crypto. No—you’re being watched. You can feel eyes burning into the back of your head, watching your every move. 

The feeling makes you tense, shoulders bunching up to your ears. You finish off your drink and start pulling your coat over your shoulders. 

Crypto guy looks at you in confusion. “Leaving so soon?”

“Yeah, I just, I need some air,” you say, and before he can protest anymore, you’re shoving your way onto the cold, crowded streets. 

Miguel doesn’t take his eyes off of you the whole time, silently trailing after you. He almost laughs at the way you look over your shoulder, trying to see if you’re being followed, but falling just short of seeing him. It’s adorable, really. 

As if he’d ever let anything happen to you. 

You set down your bag and jacket at your kitchen table, rolling your shoulders to loosen the tension. Something in the shadows catches your eye and you sigh. Of course. 

“You can come out now,” you sigh. 

Miguel steps out of the shadows, broad frame towering over you. His jaw is clenched and he looks unimpressed. 

“What are you doing here, Miguel?”

“Who was that at the bar?”

You sigh, leaning against your counter and rubbing your temples. “We’re not together, Miguel. You shouldn’t even be here.”

He steps closer to you, fists clenched at his sides. His dark eyes narrow on you, eyeing you from head to toe. “Answer the question.”

“Jesus—just some guy, okay? Why is it any of your business?”

You’re playing a dangerous game, like running across thin ice and expecting not to fall through. You avoid looking at him—you can feel the tension in the air. 

And then Miguel laughs. Really laughs. You stay perfectly still, clenching your hands on the counter. Heavy footsteps approach you until you can feel him standing behind you, hard breathing echoing in your ears. 

His hands grasp your hips, sharp nails digging into your sides. He tugs you back to him, holding your hips flush against his. “It’s always my business,” he growls. “You can pretend all you want, dear, but you will always be mine.”

His words have your breath catching in your throat, heat flooding your entire body. You squirm under his touch with no real intention of getting away, body fully submitting to him just from his touch. 

“See?” He rubs his hands up your sides, roughly cupping your chest and squeezing hard. “You like to play pretend and tease and run away, but you come back to me. Every. Single. Time.”

He squeezes again, hovering his lips over the base of your throat. A gasp falls from your lips. You can feel his fangs grazing your throat, sharp teeth brushing the sensitive skin. You close your eyes, bracing yourself on the counter in front of you. 

He pushes his hand under your shirt, cold fingers ghosting over your sensitive skin. You shiver from his touch, throwing your head back against his chest. His other hand snakes around your throat, holding you still so he can sink his fangs into your neck. 

The puncture stings as always, blood rushing to the sensitive vein he just bit into. Miguel manages to balance the pain with pleasure—rolling your nipples between his fingers, alternating between gently rubbing and harshly tugging at them. 

He moans at the taste of you, hot blood flooding his mouth. You’ve always tasted delectable, and he’s never been able to get enough. You shake in his arms, whimpering from the feeling. He can smell your arousal in the air, flooding his senses. 

He releases your neck and drops his hand from his shirt, lifting you up and tossing you onto the counter. He towers over you, broad form engulfing the kitchen light. He rips off your shirt, practically shredding the flimsy fabric to pieces. 

“M-miguel!” 

He rolls his eyes at your antics, pulling so the edge of your thighs rest on the counter. He pulls your pants off in one, swift motion, leaving you naked and shivering on the marble countertop. 

The smell of you only gets stronger, sending the blood rushing straight to his groin. You look so pretty like this, so weak. His for the taking—not that you’d ever protest. 

Sharp teeth graze the plush skin of your thighs as he plants kisses up to your heat. The feeling of his breath just above where you need him most has you arching your back, pushing your hips into his face. 

Miguel takes that in stride, wrapping his hands around your thighs to hold you in place and forcing you down to his mouth. The first touch of his tongue against your swollen clit has your eyes rolling back, pleas for more filling the air. 

You reach down to tug on his hair, dark curls falling through your fingers like silk. The feeling of you pulling on his hair and shoving your hips into his face only makes Miguel hungrier for you. He slips a finger inside of you, working you open. His fingers are so long and so thick, they stretch you open better than when you do it yourself. 

He pushes another finger inside of you, pulling his mouth away so he can watch your drooling hole open up around his knuckles. “As if any other man can make you feel like this,” he growls. 

He dives back into your pussy, burying his face between your legs. The added contact has your legs shaking, muscles quivering around his face. He slips one more finger in, reaching that spot that he knows drives you crazy. 

It only takes another second before you’re being thrown over the edge, crying out for more while trying to pull away from him. Miguel keeps a tight grip on your legs, holding you against his face while you ride out your orgasm. 

He pulls away, a twisted grin on his face. “Look at you,” he shakes his head, tugging off his pants to reveal his hard cock. 

He strokes it with one hand, using the other to trail up and down your shaking body. You’re looking at him with those needy, desperate eyes. It’s like you’re begging him to take you. 

He lands a slap to your pussy, laughing at the way you whine and try to close your legs around his hand. He spreads your legs apart, positioning himself between them so all you can do is wrap your legs around his hips. 

He shoves his way inside of you, your walls straining to take him after all this time. He’s so big, so much bigger than you, it’s a struggle. You close your eyes and whine, reaching desperately for his shoulders. For anything to ground yourself. 

Miguel settles into a steady pace, slamming his hips into yours, bottoming out with every thrust. He’s so deep inside of you, stretching out every part of you. 

With every thrust he admires the fucked out look on your face. Your whines and whimpers and pleas for him to keep going only drive him further, speeding up his pace just so he can keep hearing you whine like that. 

You claw at the skin of his back, each thrust pushing you farther across the counter before Miguel tugs you back to him and thrusts again. You slide your hands from his shoulder to his arms, gripping at the muscles of his forearms. 

His muscles flex with every thrust, tugging you even further against him. He watches how desperate you are, how badly you need to finish. He knows if he keeps up this pace, you won’t last long. 

So he stops, leaving just the tip of his cock inside of you. 

You whine in protest, opening your eyes to reveal tears starting to form. “W-why’d you stop?”

“Admit you’re mine,” he emphasizes his words with a thrust before holding still, “or you don’t get to cum again.”

“M-miguel, please,” you whine, looking up at him with those desperate eyes. 

He stares at you unimpressed, trying to resist the urge to keep going so he can finish too. But he won’t. Not until you say it. 

You try to thrust your hips against his but he holds you still, and he’s so much stronger than you that there’s no chance of moving. 

You sigh. You didn’t want to be put in this position again, but he’s so sexy and you’re so hot and wet and all you want is to cum, and his big cock is just sitting there inside of you. You clench around him, whining. 

“I-I’m all yours.” You whine, trying to pull him back to you, “only yours.”

He grins, immediately thrusting back into you. His pace is faster now, more frantic. Desperate. 

He wipes a few tears from your face, “isn’t it just so much easier when you submit to me? Don’t you love it when you don’t have to think about anything other than being my slut?”

His words make you drool and clench around him, wrapping your legs around his waist to force him deeper. Miguel gets the hint, throwing one of your legs over his shoulder and fucking into you even harder. 

He’s so close, but he refuses to finish until you do. He leans in, leaving gentle bites up and down your neck and collarbone. The slight pain is enough to finish you off, your orgasm washing over you in intense waves. 

As soon as he feels your legs shaking, your muscles relaxing, Miguel knows he can let go. He pounds into you a few more times before bottoming out and letting wave after wave of cum flood your insides. 

The hot feeling has you moaning, lazily rolling your hips into his while he pumps his cum inside of you. Miguel pulls out, admiring the sight of you on the counter with his cum leaking out of you. 

He pulls on his clothes and leans in to kiss you. “This is how it should be,” he says. “You better be ready for me next time, no nonsense.”

“Yes, sir.”

He smirks at your submission. “Good girl,” he says, and disappears into the night. 

#spiderman #spider man 2099 #spider man 2099 x you #spider man 2099 x reader #spiderverse x reader #spider man 2099 smut #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara smut #smut #x you #x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x reader #miguel smut

[stillmonsterz]

10th Street

pairing: jake sim x reader, jay park x reader kind of (one-sided genre: raw sex with jake :/ summary: you go on a date with jay and it's looking bleak, but the bartender comes around to save the day. warnings: alcohol, unprotected sex, drug mentions, crypto mentions, jay is annoying and rich, oral sex.... word count: 5.4k and unproofread.

            “What really gets me about these rug pulls,” Jay says, steepling his fingers and placing them under his clean-shaven chin, “is that they’re so damn predictable. Any asshole with an ounce of intelligence could immediately spot that an anonymous crypto project is obviously going to rug. I mean, it’s fucking ridiculous, right?”

            “Right,” you say. Your eyes flicker across his face, taking in his features. You wonder if the sex will be worth this, but the cursory glances you’ve taken at his trousers have told you that it probably won’t.

            Your date is Jay Park, this entrepreneur who has made a name for himself in your area’s tech scene. When he had initially met you in a bookstore, skulking out of the philosophy section to not so much as introduce himself as to remind you of his name and status, you had assumed that he would have taken you someplace nicer. Instead, he drove you in his McLaren just outside of 10th Street. He had paid for 4 hours parking and had jostled you down the cluttered sidewalk, his Ferragamos clattering. Jay had gripped your elbow as he navigated you past drunkards, children wandering the streets without parents, and women with glassy eyes.

            Your voice was joking but belied some of your concern. “Where are you taking me, a traphouse?”

            “That’s date number two,” Jay had replied jovially, looking back at you in the light of the setting sun, “if I decide that you’re worth the effort.”

            You had bitten back a groan and continued following him down the street. Finally, he had stopped you outside of a seedy dive bar, with a hole in the glass boarded up with cheap planks. The planks themselves had been tagged with obscene phrases written in spray paint and Sharpie. Jay had pointed to one word and smiled at you with childish glee. “I wrote that one,” he had said proudly. “

            “You have awful writing,” you had said flatly, crossing your arms. “And this place looks like a crack den.”

            “That’s exactly why we’re here,” Jay replied in a wheedling tone, his grip on your elbow sliding down to your hand. He had interlaced your fingers together. “Come on, don’t you wish to shed the trappings of the social strata? Doesn’t this excite you?”

            A protest had begun to rise in your throat, but Jay had already pushed the door open, pulling you along. The bar was dimly lit, the lightbulbs flickering in the grimy lamps. Stains cover the cheap plywood flooring, and as Jay led you to a table the planks made harsh squeaking noises. Industrial metal was playing from a tinny radio, and the one LCD TV mounted in the corner was displaying grainy footage of a football game. The patrons crowding around the bar and littering the pool table are what you would expect. Loud, raucous, with hunched backs, jerky movements, and thinning hair. The glances that some of the men situated by the pool table gave you were reason enough to flee, but Jay’s grip is as tight as a viper.

            “Don’t mind them,” Jay had whispered, his face nothing short of elated. His head had surveyed the room, and a slow smirk settled onto his lips. His well-coiffed hair, youthful face, and understated yet expensive clothes had set him apart, something that greatly pleased him. He had turned back to you. “You’re probably the most beautiful woman they’ve seen in months.”

            “That’s not hard,” you had mumbled, crossing your arms. Your seat was sticky and the table separating you and Jay was riddled with dents and chips.

            “Oh, come on,” Jay had whined, spreading his arms widely. “Don’t be such a little princess. Isn’t this nice? This stripping of artifice, this beautiful and vulgar display of Americana? It’s exciting, isn’t it? Gets you kind of…turned on, right?”

            You had raised an eyebrow. “Are you?”

            “I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t sporting a half-chub, yeah.”

            You had groaned. “You’re disgusting, Jay.”

            “Stop,” he had muttered, holding up his hand. “I might go full mast….” Jay had stood up hurriedly. “I’m going to get us drinks before I inelegantly bust all over the table. What do you want, like a Cosmopolitan or some shit?”

            “No…I kind of wanted a vodka cranberry?”

            Jay had scoffed, opening his wallet in a way that showed you his black card. “What, are you someone’s fucking grandmother? Christ.” He had stalked towards the bar, and you had sat there, trying not to make eye contact with any of the barflies. Finally, your gaze had fallen upon Jay talking to the bartender, at whom he was wildly gesticulating. The bartender was nodding patiently, taking a slow swig of a clear liquid in a tumbler. His apron was stained, his plain black V-neck exposed his thin arms and chest, and his eyes sparkled with a youthfulness one wouldn’t expect to find in a place like this.

            As you had watched the two of them, the bartender’s eyes had briefly slid towards you. His eyes had widened, then narrowed playfully before he went to prepare the drinks. Your chest had felt warm, but you stifled your smile as Jay had stalked back towards your table.

            “I feel bad for that poor bastard,” he had said, sidling into his chair and slinging his arm on the back of it. “Imagine being shackled to this shithole.”

            “I thought you liked this shithole.”

            “Yeah, as a brief recourse from the ardors of being really fucking rich,” Jay had retorted. “Not for the rest of my life. I mean, goddamn. Look at that prick.”

            Jay didn’t have to tell you twice. You took in his messy brown hair, his wide smile, his deft fingers. Then he had walked away from the counter, holding your vodka cranberry and an old-fashioned for Jay. His stride was sure, and he was only looking at you.

            “Here you are,” the bartender had said lowly. “Here’s your old-fashioned-“ he had set the drink in front of Jay with little fanfare- “and here’s your vodka cranberry.” He had slid the drink towards you, making brief eye contact with you. He had been so close to you, you could finally make out his name tag – Jake, written in careful capital letters- and you could smell the moonshine on his breath.

            “Yeah, thanks,” Jay had muttered.

            “Thank you,” you had added softly.

            Jake leaned away slowly, his eyes still lingering on you, before politely nodding. “Let me know if you need anything,” he had drawled before walking away.

            Jay had taken a long swig of his old-fashioned and takes a look at the retreating figure of Jake before groaning. “He should have made it even more obvious that he wanted you. He should have just shoved his cock into your old-lady drink and swirled it around so we really got the picture. Fuck me, I guess.”

            You had sipped your vodka cranberry and laughed. “Oh, come on. You’re reading too much into it.”

            “I’m not,” Jay had insisted, pointing at you with an accusatory glare. “He was checking you out in this lascivious manner. It was disgusting. He was looking at you like you were some piece of ass.” He had taken another long drink of his old-fashioned, barely wincing at the burn.

            “As opposed to you,” you had said sarcastically, “who only has pure intentions for me, right?”

            Jay had laughed. “Hey, it’s different when I objectify you. It’s kind of like when a homeless guy calls you sexy on the sidewalk compared to when an apex predator like me calls you sexy. The point is, that bartender wants you, and it’s revolting.”

            You had dared another glance at the bartender, who was blatantly staring at you while sipping his moonshine. “Relax. I’m probably just the first woman with a full set of teeth he’s seen in a while.”

            Jay had snickered again. “That’s probably true.” Only a few moments of silence had passed before his voice took on a mischievous, almost playful lilt. “You know, you could probably get something from him…”

            You had wiped the corner of your mouth with your thumbs. “What do you mean?”

            “You know,” Jay had said with a shrug, “you could get some free drinks out of him if you flirted a little, take advantage of him. You could probably get him to bequeath his life savings, which could maybe buy you a used microwave or a footlong.”

            Your mouth had gaped open. “Are you openly encouraging me to flirt with him?”

            “Yeah?”

            “Are you a cuck or something?”

            Jay had laughed again, slapping the table. “Ah, you slay me.” He had reached over and pinched your cheek, an action that made you want to bite his fingers off. “Come on, just shove your cute little ass in his face and flirt. It’ll be funny to make him think that he has a chance with you.”

            “I’ll pass,” you had replied. “I mean, it’s not really my thing to just play around with other peoples’ emotions.”

            He had sighed and shook his head in disappointment. “Oh, what am I going to do with you? You’re so goddamn innocent. You’re saying that you’ll feel some modicum of guilt if you fuck around with him?”

            “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

            Jay had downed the rest of his old-fashioned. “Recalcitrance is for bitches and pussies.”

            You had rolled her eyes. “Fine, so I’m a pussy.”

            Once again, that finger had found its way into your line of sight. “You know who’s really a pussy? This asshole who had invested in this obvious pump and dump…”

            As Jay rambles about crypto, you can’t help but look at the bartender. He’s behind the counter, cleaning a cloudy glass with a rag. When he notices that you’re looking at him, he smiles at you warmly before he looks at Jay and returns his attention to the glass.

            Jay corrals you into having another drink, and you listen to his sophomoric opinions on modern society, the current film industry, his tech predictions, and his opinions on right-wing pundits. The only thing stymying your boredom from overtaking you are your furtive glances at the bartender- Jake, you remind yourself. Jake.

            Finally, the two of you leave the shady bar, and Jay makes out with you as he presses you against his car. You close your eyes and think about Jake as his tongue probes inside of your mouth with little grace.

            “Listen,” you murmur, pulling away from his lips, “I have a presentation early in the morning to give, so I’m going to have to cut this date short…”

            “Oh, bullshit,” Jay says, groping your ass on the sidewalk, “you just don’t want to fuck me, is that it? Can you say that for me? Say that you don’t want to fuck me.”

            You sigh. “I don’t want to fuck you.”

            His hands comes off of your ass and he pulls away from you, shaking his head. “That’s all you had to say. I don’t get women. They’re always like, ‘Men never listen to us!’ Then they don’t explicitly tell us anything, we have to parse through their shit...” As Jay talks, he opens the passenger door. “Get in. Please.”

            You slide inside of his car and he closes the door, even buckling your seatbelt for you. Then he walks over to the driver’s seat and drives to your place. He calls you a cock-tease and a winsome harlot and some other choice terms you can barely hear.

            When he finally arrives at your place, he begs you for one last kiss. You oblige, he bemoans that he’ll never get to pound that tight strange, and he drives off, presumably to coerce someone into his bed for the night.

            Against your better judgement, you take an Uber and walk into that bar on 10th Street alone. This time, the lustful eyes of the barflies are less disgusting than they are frightening. Thankfully, the bar area has been just about cleared out, and you take a seat on a stool with a peeled cover.

            Jake is busy cleaning up a spill on the far end of the counter, but when he looks up and sees you his face brightens. He drops the cloth on the table and walks towards you with a goofy smile.

            “Hey, babydoll,” he says lowly, eyes sparkling. He doesn’t bother masking the fact that he’s openly checking you out, his eyes lingering on your breasts before meeting your own stare again. “Was your date that boring?”

            “He was…nice,” you reply, resting your head on your hand.

            Jake laughs. “Yeah, nice, sure.” He shakes his head slightly, like he can’t believe his good fortune. “You want something to drink, babe?”

            “Yeah, could you make me something nice and sweet? Nothing too alcoholic.”

            Jake points at you, cocking his head. “I’ve got just the thing for you.” He busies himself behind the bar, pouring this and that into a shaker. As he does, he can’t stop stealing glances at you. Every time he does, he smiles and bites his lip before looking away. Finally, he pours a light-yellow drink into a cocktail glass, carefully affixing a lemon wedge to the side before gently sliding it to you. “It’s a lemon drop,” he explains in his slow drawl.

            “Thank you.” You pull your wallet out of your purse. “How much is this?”

            Jake shakes his head. “Nah, for a pretty girl like you, it’s on the house.”

            A smile spreads across your face, and that warmth in your chest spreads. “Are you sure?”

            “Surer than anything, babe.” He gestures for you to try it, pushing his mop of hair back.

            You take a sip, and your eyes widen. “This is great.” You hold the glass by the stem as you drink it.

            “Thank you,” Jake says almost shyly. “Glad that I picked up something useful from bartending this shithole.”

            “How long have you been here?”

            “Been working here for…ten years? Owned it for three.” Jake takes a long sip of his moonshine, resting his elbows on the counter. “Not my first choice of job, but when you’re an addict and you need money, you’ll take anything.”

            Your mouth opens, but Jake quickly answers your question. “I’m clean now. Been clean for five years. My only vice is this.” He holds up his tumbler and shakes it before taking another sip.

            “Do you make that yourself?”

            Jake nods. “I make it myself, in the back,” he says, a tinge of pride in his voice. “This must be about…80% pure alcohol, I figure.”

            “Can I try some?” you ask tentatively.

            Jake laughs, his face contorting in disbelief. “Are you sure, babydoll? This could knock a grown man on his feet.”

            “Oh, I’m sure,” you say. You hate to back down from a challenge.

            With another laugh, he walks over to you, coming around the counter. He holds his glass out to you, and as you wrap your hand around the tumbler he tilts the liquid into your mouth. Jake’s eyes are fixed on your lips, awaiting your reaction.

            At first, it does little to you, and you’re about to say something snarky. Then the burning starts, flames licking at your throat, and you double over coughing. Your eyes are screwed up, filled with tears, and your hands clutch the edge of the counter.

            You can feel a hand rubbing your back, the other hand gently stroking your arm. “Aw, damn. You took that like a champ.”

            Through hacking coughs, you eke out, “I don’t feel like a champ.”

            Jake continues rubbing comforting circles on your back. “I’ve seen men collapse to their feet from a shot of moonshine. You’re a little firecracker, ain’t you?”           

            “Thanks,” you mutter, turning to look at him through watery eyes.

            “No problem. You want some water, babydoll?”

            You nod, and Jake reluctantly lets go of you to retrieve some water for you. He returns to your side with a glass, holding it up to your lips. The water is like a soothing balm for your throat, and after a long drink you sigh. “Damn.”

            Jake sets the glass down and picks up his own tumbler of moonshine, taking a long swig. “That’s moonshine for you.”

            Your eyes widen. “How are you drinking that so…so…”

            “Like it’s water?” Jake smiles at you cheekily, leaning against the counter next to you so that his elbows are on the edge and he’s facing you. “First of all, I’ve put shit up my nose that burned more than this. Second of all, I’m used to it. When you’re dealing with this day in and day out-“ he gestures widely at the bar- “you need something good and strong to get through it.”

            “Your liver must be strong as hell.”

            Jake laughs, setting his tumbler down. “It must be pickled at this point.”

            You can’t help but laugh, and he playfully pokes your shoulder. “Don’t laugh at my liver. It’s the only reason why I’m still standing.” Then he stills, appraising you with a careful gaze. “I never got your name, babydoll.”

            You tell him your name, holding your hand out.

            He takes it and shakes it firmly. “Lovely name. Suits you perfectly. My name’s Jake. Jake Sim.”

            He’s still holding your hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

            “Pleasure’s all mine,” he murmurs. Jake holds your hand to his lips and kisses it, traces of moonshine wetting your hand. He flattens your hand and idly starts tracing your palm, his other hand circling your wrist. “You’ve got nice hands. Real nice.”

            “Thank you,” you reply softly. “Yours are very rough.”

            Jake laughs somewhat self-consciously. He stops drawing on your palm with his index finger. “Yeah, well, you don’t work at a place like this for damn near a decade without getting a few calluses and cuts.”

            Your voice comes out as a whisper. “I like it.” You reach out and gently squeeze the tip of his finger, feeling the callus for yourself, before dropping it.

            Jake smiles, but his eyes take on a dangerous glint. His finger trails from the palm of your hand to your wrist, his fingertips gliding over your veins. “Yeah?”

            “Yeah.”

            For a moment, both of you continued smiling at each other. Then Jake licks his lips, and he lets go of your wrist. His other hand now strokes your forearm. “Why’d you come back here, baby? Coming to this shithole once is one thing, but twice in the same night…”

            You don’t see a point in playing games. “I wanted to see you.”

            The smile drops off of Jake’s face, and he leans in towards you. “Yeah? No bullshit?”

            “No bullshit.”

            His other hand moves to rest on your knee, and his thumb strokes it through your jeans. “Your date didn’t do it for you?”

            You shrug, picking up your lemon drop again and sipping it. “He was okay, I guess. He was weird.”

            Jake’s voice is becoming low, his eyes serious. His eyes flicker over your body, settling on your thighs. This time, he doesn’t bother looking back up at you. “You don’t like weird?”

            “Not that kind of weird,” you reply, your voice catching.

            “You don’t like rich prick typa weird?” His voice is amused, and his hand creeps up your knee. “You prefer broke bartender at a shit bar typa weird?”

            You lean in, your eyes locked onto his full, plush lips. The smell of moonshine has become less of a deterrent and more intoxicating. “Is that a problem?”

            “The opposite,” Jake replies in a husky voice. His lips brush your cheek as he moves to whisper in your ear. “I’m flattered that a gorgeous lady like you has interest in me.” His right hand is now caressing your thigh slowly, intentionally. The other touches your face with his thumb.

            “I’m surprised you’re flattered,” you reply, leaning into his touch slightly. “Women here must love you.”

            “They love me to get free drinks out of me,” he says dismissively. “Besides…most women who come here aren’t a fraction as pretty as you are. You’re like a gem in a pigsty, you know that?” When you don’t say anything, Jake continues, running his finger along your jaw. “Your date must’ve been as stupid as hell to let you go.” He pulls away from your ear so he can look you in your eyes.

            “He couldn’t do anything about it. I just didn’t want him the way-“

            Jake’s eyes narrow, and he comes impossibly closer. “The way what?”

            “The way I want you.”

            There’s a pause, and Jake’s face is unreadable. When he does talk, his voice is strained, “Tell me you aren’t fucking with me. Tell me you’re serious. Say the word, and I’ll shut this place down and kick all these junkies out.”

            You swallow, need and desire building up in the pit of your stomach. “I’m serious.”

            Jake pulls away from you and walks over to the barflies, telling them to get their drunk asses out. They complain and groan, but they leave without much of a fight. Once they’re all gone, Jake locks the door. “Come here,” he says, beckoning you with his finger.

            You walk towards him as if in a trance, and when you’re close he spins you around by the waist and kisses you. You readily kiss him back, your hands resting on his chest. His mouth tastes like moonshine, and you can even taste a hint of his sharp aftershave. Jake presses you up against the door, placing his knee in between your legs to trap you. The kiss starts off playful, but it grows hungry, and Jake seems as though he would swallow you if he could.

            When he pulls away from your lips, a string of saliva in between your mouths, his eyes dart all over your face. Then he nods slightly, as if he’s come to some grand conclusion.

            “What?” you ask, your hands snaking up to his cheek. “What is it?”

            Jake pecks your lips gently and smiles. “I just realized…I’m not going to be able to take my time with you.” Before you can say anything, he wraps his arm around your waist and guides you behind the counter to a wooden door that looks liable to give one splinters.

            When he opens the door, the smell of alcohol is almost staggering, and Jake’s grip tightens on your waist as if he had anticipated that reaction. Bottles of alcohol are stacked in crates on wooden shelves on the far wall. To the right rests three DIY pot stills, all using dented kegs. To the left, there’s a small faux-leather couch with chunks of it peeling off. You think back to Jay’s words about the artifice or whatever the fuck, and suddenly you wish there was at least a bit of pretense. But when you turn to Jake, he’s smiling at you like you had hung the moon in the sky yourself. “I know it’s no Hilton,” he begins sheepishly, but you shut him up by kissing him squarely on the mouth.

            “It works for me,” you say, biting your lips.

            Jake’s grin widens. “Shit, okay.”

            You tumble together on the couch with Jake, your mouths connecting sloppily and wetly. You suck his tongue into your mouth hungrily, causing you to choke slightly. This only spurs Jake on further, and he grinds his crotch into you. Your hips rise to meet his, and you hump each other desperately and almost painfully. His hand crawls up your stomach, and he gropes at your breasts. Finally, he pushes himself off of you, settling into a kneeling position. Through the dim light filtering in through the cracks of the door, you can see that Jake’s lips are swollen, his hair messy, and his eyes wild.

            “Take it off,” he grunts. “Everything. Now.”

            Your hands fumble with the zipper of your jeans, excitement clogging throat. As you tug your jeans down, Jake unbuckles his belt, throwing it to the side. You kick your shoes off, shimmy your jeans off, and toss your shirt away, leaving you in only your bra and panties. When you’re suitably undressed, you look up at Jake.

            Jake’s shirt is off, revealing a dark mass of skin you recognize as tattoos. One of his hands has slipped into his boxers, and he’s staring at you. A moan escapes his lips as his eyes wander your body. “So fucking perfect,” he says, voice strained as he plays with his cock. “So goddamn beautiful. Play with yourself for me, baby.”

            You tentatively tug your underwear down, collecting your arousal to coat your clit before stroking it with two fingers. You’re so sensitive that just the first touches cause you to whine in pleasure.

            “Spread your legs,” Jake hisses. “Nice and wide…”

            You oblige, widening your legs so that Jake gets a full view of your pearly pussy. He moans again, his mouth watering at the sight of it, at the hot, sweet smell. “Let me taste it. Let me taste it,” he begs, dipping his head down.

            As his wide tongue touches your clit, you cry out in pleasure. Jake laps at your clit with fervor, his hands pushing your legs apart as he licks wide stripes. His mouth makes obscene smacking noises, and when he briefly pulls away to catch his breath, his entire lower face is slick with your arousal. “So good,” he mutters before diving back in. You squirm, knowing that you’ll cum quickly if he doesn’t stop, but Jake’s nails dig into your fleshy thighs, holding you in place.

            “Oh, Jake, Jake,” you pant out, head leaning back. “Jake, I’m so close, Jake…”

            Seemingly encouraged by your words, Jake continues attacking your clit, and two of his bony fingers slip into your vaginal walls, spreading you open. They pump themselves in and out, in and out, like the undulations of the ocean. Like that, he rips an orgasm from you, continuing to lick the arousal spilling from you as you ride out the wave of pleasure.

            You lean your head back on the armrest of the couch, trying to catch your breath. Jake gently caresses your thigh as you come down from your high, peppering your neck with kisses. “Tasted amazing,” he says, voice ragged. “Tasted like paradise.”

            Your brain is so fuzzy you can hardly piece together a coherent sentence. “That was so good, Jake.”

            Jake smiles at you and gives you a kiss on the mouth, slow and gentle. You greedily lick your own juices off of his lips, even sucking it off of his tongue. As you kiss, you can feel the head of his cock poking at your entrance. “Sorry,” Jake says blithely, “but I need to fuck you right now.” 

            You nod. “Please.”

            To his credit, he takes his time. He fucks into you slowly and carefully, wanting you to adjust. He’s not long, but he’s girthy and fills you well. He feeds you his cock inch by inch, moving in and out as so not to hurt you. Once you seem at ease, he pushes your thighs up so that your knees touch your breasts and fucks you at a faster pace. After a minute or so of that position, he seemingly gets tired of it, opting to place your legs over his shoulder. This allows him to hit a sweet angle, one that has you moaning.

            He’s fucking you so quickly that your breasts begin to hurt, so you cover them with your hands. Jake swats your fingers with his free hand, the other wrapped around your legs. “Stop that,” he huffs out. “Let your tits bounce.” You let go of your breasts, and he licks his finger to swirl it around your nipples, marveling at their stiffness. He kneads your breasts as he pounds into you with grunts of effort.

            Jake pulls out of you, and the loss causes you to cry out. He grabs you by your shoulders and pulls you around so that your head is lolling over the edge of the armrest. He hovers over you, one hand prying your mouth open. “Need to fuck this mouth of yours. Will you let me, babydoll?”

            You pant out your assent, and he slides his wet cock into your mouth. First you kitten-lick the head, tasting your own hot arousal, then he presses his cock further down, treating your mouth like a pussy. As you gag around his dick, you play with his balls, fondling them with one hand. With the other, you play with your engorged, reddened clit. This doesn’t go unnoticed by him. “You’re amazing,” Jake pants out. “Playing with yourself while you get facefucked.”

            You tap his stomach, and he pulls his cock out, stroking your cheek gently. “All good?” he asks tentatively.

You nod and spit somewhere on his floor before taking him back into your mouth. “So good to me,” Jake praises. “So, so good.” Once he’s done fucking your mouth, he pulls out and his cock on your cheek, almost playfully. Then he pulls you over so that you’re flat on your stomach, your head still hanging over the edge of the couch. He spanks your ass once, twice, then slips his wet, stiff cock into your folds, moaning as he does.

This time, his pace isn’t furious, but moderate. He pulls you up so that your back rests on his chest. He’s on his knees, fucking his cock into you upright. Your hips meet Jake’s, so that you’re bouncing on his dick. He kneads your breast with one hand, the other hand holding your waist. Your lips meet in a sloppy, rushed kiss before he pushes you down and grips your hips. He pounds into you with strangled moans, sounding more animalistic than anything else.

“You like this?” he asks, the question sounding less like dirty talk and more like a desperate need for assurance.

“I like it!” Your voice is tremulous, shaking as he thrusts harder and harder into you.

“That rich prick you were with couldn’t fuck you like this, right?” He punctuates his sentence by pulling out of you before slamming himself back inside with a groan.

You moan loudly, trying to clutch the armrest for support. “No, he couldn’t. He’s nothing like you.”

“That’s right,” Jake says, closing his eyes. “He couldn’t. He couldn’t make you purr like I do.” His thrusts become sloppier and faster, and you slip your hand down so you can rub your clit to chase your own orgasm.

Peals of moans spill from your lips. “I’ve never been fucked like this before, Jake.”

“I thought so.” Jake flips you over so he can enter you from the front, pushing one of your legs to the side. He slides in and out of you with ease, your juices having pooled on the couch. “You need to be fucked like this, don’t you?”

“I need it,” you choke out, your stomach desperately burning. “I need it, Jake.”

As he comes close to orgasm, you can feel his cock twitch inside of you. “Fuck, a girl like you just begs to be treated like this.”

“That’s right,” you babble.

Jake doesn’t talk anymore, instead letting out low grunts as he comes close. Your second orgasm hits you first, and you scream out his name. The tightening of your vaginal walls is enough to bring him to climax, and with a final grunt and a low, “Fuck!” he spills into you. He pulls out of you and weakly rubs his cock to spill his last few spurts of hot cum on your stomach. Then he wearily collapses, leaning back on the opposite side of the couch.

Both of you recover from the heated session, and you gasp for air. After a while, you feel Jake’s hand on yours, and he pulls you onto him. He strokes your hair and kisses both of your cheeks. You wrap your arms around him and rest your cheek on his chest.

“I can’t just let you go,” he murmurs, fingers tangling in your hair. “I’m going to need you again soon.”

You look up at him, surprised. “Again? Soon?”

Jake laughs, his playfulness returning. “We’re going to rest up for a little, and then I’m going to take you again. We need two more rounds, at minimum. What do you say?”

“I say you’re insane,” you reply, any snark momentarily eviscerated by the residual pleasure spreading in your body.

“You like it.”

“Shut up.”

With another laugh, Jake kisses the top of your head. “You’re cute.”

You allow your eyes to flutter shut as you revel in his embrace, taking in Jake’s scent and comfort.

#jake sim smut #enhypen smut #jake x reader #enha smut #kpop smut #kpop fanfiction #jay park smut #jake sim x reader

[bugsmunched]

"My Slut" - Derek Danforth X Reader

Summary: A jealous Derek confronts Y/N, one of his mother's employees, about flirting with a bunch of guys at a party when they were supposed to be there to keep him in line.

A/N: This was a little rushed ngl, but I did my best My Jhutch hyperfixation is coming back. So expect more fics, and please remember if you have any ideas please share!

Contents: GN! Reader, drug usage, smoking, drinking, plot? What plot, filthy smut, Dom! Derek, degradation, use of 'slut' and 'bitch', choking, spitting, impact play, face fucking, spoiled brat Derek, no mentions of readers' genitals, hate fucking, no prep, no protection (wrap that shit), dumbification, possessive Derek, jealous Derek

Word Count: 2750

SMUT UNDER CUT, MINORS DNI!!

"I'm not your property, Danforth." you spat, venom lacing your words as you stared at him in a cold, annoyed manner.

"Aren't you?" he asked, raising a brow and looking at you with all the arrogance in the world.

God, he was SO annoying. You couldn't believe the audacity of this sociopathic con artist. "No Derek, contrary to popular belief, I don't fucking belong to you. I don't even work for you remember? Your mother hired me. " You hissed, placing the glass of bourbon that was in your hand onto the table in front of you.

"Well I don't think my mother hired you to flirt with a bunch of men like a little whore now did she?" He asked, taking a long drag of the joint that rested in his hand.

"She hired me to keep an eye on you, Derek. I'm a glorified babysitter, I might as well have a little bit of fun whilst trying to keep you sober. "

"Yeah you don't exactly do a good job of that, now do you? I wonder if my mother knew how poor of a job you were doing. "

"You threatening my job? " You snorted, rolling your eyes in amusement. "You're threatening my job just because I flirted with a couple of guys, how mature of you Danforth. "

"just flirted with a couple of guys?" He asked, raising a brow in amusement. "Honey-"

"Don't." You warned him, not wanting to hear the sickening nickname fall out of his mouth.

"Don't fucking interrupt me, slut. " He growled, his eyes narrowing with anger. " As I was saying before you opened your disgusting mouth- Honey, I don't think palming a guy in the corner counts as 'just flirting.' And the entire party does not count as 'just a couple guys.' You're a slut, admit it. "

Your face turned a bright pink, you hadn't realized that he knew about that. It had been a spur-of-the-moment thing, the drinks had just hit and one guy kept eyeing you up and down. So, when you noticed that Derek was preoccupied by some other guy talking about crypto or some similar nonsense, you snuck off and made out with the guy in the corner. But you were so deprived, that you had begun palming him desperately like a highschooler at a dance. But before it could escalate to anything more, you heard Derek calling you away, unaware that he had been watching you the entire time, seething with anger.

"I'm not a slut, Derek. If anyone's the slut it's you. You're the one who's hooking up with someone new every time I turn my head. " That really got him going. He placed the burnt-out joint in the ashtray in front of him and stood up, swiftly walking over to you, standing over you.

"You want to say that again?" He challenged, crouching down in front of you and meeting your gaze. When you didn't say anything, he growled and grabbed your chin. "What? Now you've finally decided to shut that big mouth of yours?" his grasp on your chin was harsh, yet his gaze was even harsher. Fire plagued his gaze, and his jaw clenched.

" Let go of me, you sociopath." You snapped, matching his energy.

"You can't talk to me like that. " He huffed, his grip on your chin tightening, leaving red marks on either side of your face.

"I can speak however I damn please, you don't control my paychecks."

"Someone needs to show you how to fucking respect others. " He said as he let go of your face. You rubbed the sore sides of your face, looking up at him with a scowl.

"Someone needs to teach you how to not be such a spoiled brat, you useless fucking-"

Your harsh words were cut off as his hand found itself wrapped around your throat. "shut up." he growled, squeezing the sides of your throat. Your face turned a bright red as you fought back a whimper from the feeling. When you stopped speaking, he smirked, clearly satisfied with the results of his actions. "That's all it takes to shut you up, huh? All the little slut needed was a hand around their throat?" he cooed, squeezing a little harsher.

You tried to speak, but your brain was a little bit fuzzy from the feeling of having a strong hand wrapped around your throat like that. You felt so stupid, so vulnerable, to have been so thrown off by that.

"You really are nothing but a slut, and I don't like that. I can't stand seeing you flirt with other men. You see, I don't have a problem with the fact that you are a slut, I have a problem with the fact that you're not my slut. " He said as malice laced his words.

You gave a little bit of a whine, looking up at him with desperation in your eyes. Your cocky demeanor had completely faded away, as it had changed into something new, something far more desperate and needy. Maybe he was right, maybe you were a slut...and maybe you should be his.

"C'mon baby, say something." he cooed, loosening his grip on your throat for a moment so you could speak. But you were absolutely star-struck at the moment, at a complete loss for words. When you didn't speak, a hand harshly landed a blow across your face, leaving a bright red mark. "I said say something. That wasn't a request, you dumb fuck. "

"Make me- make me yours. " You managed to stutter out, the smack he left on your cheek causing it to sting.

"Oh look, you can speak after all! The dumb slut can speak." He said with feigned amusement in his voice. "And they know their place. " He purred softly as he let go of your throat completely, standing up from his crouched position. " On your knees. And don't make me repeat myself again." He commanded.

You slipped off the couch and fell to your knees in front of him, looking up at him with pitiful, desperate eyes. What was happening to you? As soon as you were on your knees, his pants and boxers were around his ankles, belt resting in his hands, and his surprisingly girthy and pierced cock sprung free, half-hard already from the attention he was giving you. A hand harshly gripped at your hair and tugged you close to him, looping the belt around your neck and pulling it tight, much like a leash.

In one hand he held the belt that was wrapped around your neck, in the other he held his half-hard cock, stroking over the Jacob's ladder piercings. After a few moments, his cock stood at attention, a bead a precum leaking from the tip. He pulled you close via the belt, pushing his leaking tip against your lips. His other hand cupped your cheek, stroking it gently. "Open. " He commanded, and you quickly obeyed.

You parted your lips, which were now glistening with his pre-cum, as he pushed his dick into your mouth. He wasted no time in tugging on the belt, which forced you to take more of him down your throat. The balls of his piercings rubbed strangely against the walls of your throat, but you welcomed the new sensation.

Soon enough, he had forced himself all the way down your throat, balls pressed against your chin. "You really are a slut, huh?" he asked in amusement, amazed at how easily you took him down your throat. "Have you been sucking dicks behind my back? huh?" he asked as he spat on your face, it sliding down, coating your eyelashes in the process. You shook your head, trying to say something in protest, but that just caused you to gag on his cock, spit bubbling from your own mouth and dripping down your chin. It slipped off of your chin and dripped onto the floor. "You're cleaning that up later, fucking bitch. " He remarked, smacking your face lightly.

After a few moments of forcing your nose into the base of his cock, he pulled his hips away, leaving you panting with spit dripping down your face. After giving you a second to breathe, he smirked before slamming back into your mouth, holding the belt tightly in his hand as he began to roughly thrust in and out. His tip kept hitting the back of your throat, causing you to gag, which caused more spit to drip down your chin and pool on the floor.

"Fucking bitch, making such a mess." He growled, spitting on your face once again, his hand that was resting on your face going up to your hair, tangling itself in the strands roughly.

He loved the sight below him; you drooling and spitting all over his cock as his spit dripped down your face, his cock pumping in and out of your throat. The sight alone was almost enough to push him over the edge, but he wasn't anywhere near done with you.

Once again he pushed you all the way down his shaft, shoving your nose into the base of his cock. "Choke on it you dumb slut. " he growled softly, watching as you tried to breathe, which caused you to start choking on his dick, more spit bubbling on the corners of your mouth. Once he was satisfied with the mess you made on the floor beneath you, he pushed your head away, leaving you a panting mess once again.

"Looks like we finally found a use for that mouth that isn't bitching and whining, isn't that right, honey?" He cooed, using the belt that was wrapped around your neck to pull you off of the ground, his spare hand resting on your side. " answer me." he growled, his eyes filled with a dangerous lust.

"Y-yes sir." you managed to stutter out, the name for him falling out of your lips far easier than you would like to admit. he smirked at the nickname, his cock twitching in satisfaction.

"Call me that again." He purred softly, the hand resting on your side making its way to your clothes ass, gripping at it harshly.

"S-sir."

He smacked your ass, "Again." he commanded.

"Sir!" You yelped out, whining at the light sting on your clothed ass, imagining how much more that would sting if you were unclothed.

"Good job, slut. Now, undress and bend yourself over that table over there. " He said, pointing to a table that held alcohol and other drugs over in the corner.

You quickly obliged as he let go of the belt. You practically tore off your clothes, rushing over to the table and bending yourself over it, biting your lip. You scolded yourself for being so excited to fuck Derek Danforth, someone that you were hired to keep from fucking random people and doing drugs.

He sauntered his way over to you and pushed your face harshly into the table, the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. "Fuck, look at you, so eager for me to fuck you. Your boss' son, bending you over the desk and dicking you down, it's kind of pathetic, really. " He remarked, smacking your ass a few times till both cheeks were bright pink. The smacks caused you to mewl in pleasure, back arching against him slightly.

After prodding your entrance with the swollen and ripping head of his cock, he finally pushed past the barrier and sheathed himself inside of you. He didn't try and go slow, he just shoved himself deep inside of you as quick as he could, a groan escaping his lips. The lack of prep caused the stretch to burn your hole, making you wince and take a few deep, sharp breaths. You weren't used to being so full.

But before you could get used to the feel of being stretched out, he pulled nearly all the way out before slamming back in, causing your body to jolt forward, eyes rolling back slightly at the rough thrust. He repeated that rough thrust a few times, one hand resting on your hip, the other shoving your face into the desk. The harsh thrusts drew long, high pitched whines and moans from your mouth, hands gripping at the table harshly, nails digging into the wood.

"ah-ah! Slo-slow down!" You whined out, your pleading being muffled by the table. He smirked at your pleading, hips speeding up, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the air.

"I don't think I will. " He spoke in an arrogant tone, continuing to thrust his hips forward, burying his cock inside of you. A few moans fell from his lips, the grip on your hip tightening, he was sure to leave a few bruises.

" fu-fuck you." You spat, wincing as a hand collided with your ass harshly once again, a shiver being sent up your spine.

"Watch your fucking tone with me. " He growled softly, continuing to harshly piston his hips into you. His nails dug into your flesh lightly, leaving marks. "you're my little slut, aren't you?" He purred softly.

You moaned in response which caused him to smack your ass once again. " Say it. Say that you're my little slut. Tell me that you're sorry for flirting with other men. "

You opened your mouth to talk, but no words came out, your brain fuzzy from the feeling of being fucked like an animal. "oh, is the poor slut already fucked stupid? You're in for a long night, poor baby. " He mocked you, giving a particularly harsh thrust which caused you to cry out in pleasure. He stilled his hips for a moment, laying a harsh slap to your ass. "Still, I need to hear the words...say that you're my little slut. " He hummed softly, massaging the fat of your ass between his fingers.

"I-I'm yours..."

"You're my what?" he cooed, grinding his hips into you, which caused a long, drawn-out whine to fall from your lips.

"your little slut.."

"C'mon, use all your words..."

"I'm your little slut."

"I'm your little slut - what?" he mocked you, prompting you.

"si-sir. "

"Good job, bitch." He growled as he started up his thrusting once again, pulling nearly all the way out just before slamming right back into your tight hole harshly.

Foul, lewd sounds fell out of both of your lips, Derek's head rolling back slightly as he fucked into you like you were his personal fleshlight. He groped your ass, his nails leaving red marks as he marked his territory. He wanted to make sure that people knew you were his little slut, that you belonged to him. You were his little toy and he was your owner. He leaned forward and started leaving love bites on your neck, both in a way to mark you as his and a way to muffle his moans, which were slowly turning into whimpers as he got closer to his climax.

You, meanwhile, were already in a state of fucked out bliss, eyes rolling into the back of your head as you felt that knot in your stomach tighten. Your knees were becoming weak, and your entire body felt like it was on fire. You tried to warn Derek that you were about to cum, but you couldn't talk, so all you did was whine and smack at the table with your hand, arching your back to make him go deeper.

However, he was lost in his own pleasure and neglected to recognize the signs of you getting close, his thrusts quickening due to his own desperation for a release. After a few more thrusts, you yelped, a few tears rolling down your cheek as you came undone, but he barely even noticed, his growls turning into high-pitched whines as his hips stuttered.

You whined, feeling overstimulated, but soon enough he was coming undone inside of you. Thick ropes began to paint your insides, causing you to whimper at the feeling of being so full. He pulled out, which caused you to gasp at the sudden lack of something being stuffed inside your desperate hole.

He stood up straight and looked at you for a moment before realizing that you had made a mess of your own. He smacked your ass harshly, which caused you to whine out. "Dumb slut, you didn't ask for permission. Looks like... you're going to have to be punished." He murmured. You looked back and realized that he had already gotten hard once again. You were in for a long night.

#derek danforth #jhutch #smut #derek danforth x reader #the beeker #josh hutcherson

[1-800-c0sm1c]

꒰snooze !꒱

after an intense match in the apex games, there's only one legend crypto would even dare let his guard down around.

character x legend!reader

includes crypto !

warnings : none.

word count : 1268

a/n : can you tell i've been streaming lovejoy's music recently with the cmwyl lyric i shoved in there ? yeah i'm obsessed sorry not sorry 🫶

crypto was not one to let his guard down, ever. on the dropship, he was notorious for his silent and cold personality. how you managed to get him to warm up to you, let alone have an actual friendship with him was a mystery to your fellow legends.

after finishing a particularly rough match, you had offered crypto to come back with you to your apartment for a celebratory evening. he usually would be quick to decline, after all he always had work outside of the apex games that needed his attention. however, he's noticed he has a hard time saying no to you, especially when you look up at him with excitement in your eyes. crypto is sure he'd bang his head on any doorframe you seemed suitable for you two to go through if you looked at him the same way you always do.

he pretends to seem annoyed when agreeing, attempting to make the other legends around you on the dropship assume that he wasn't actually this quick to give in. although he highly doubts that anyone else's doe eyes would have the same effect on him that yours do, and he's not sure whether that's a blessing or a curse.

crypto's now relaxing on your couch, or at least, what he would consider relaxing. it's rare he gets a chance away from his work outside of when participating in the apex games, but he always can't help but feel a sense of guilt rush over him whenever he neglects it. so, even though it may not look like it, him sitting with his muscles tensed and brows furrowed, is his idea of taking a break.

you try your best not to laugh at him, the last thing you'd want to do is make him uncomfortable. but sometimes his awkwardness is amusing, and you choose to enjoy it while it lasts. "you look like you have a lot on your mind." you state, jumping up onto the couch next to him. "i always do." he replies, nonchalantly. you shrug in response, "yeah, i guess that's true. i just meant, you know, like you need a break." crypto pauses for a moment. he can't think straight when you're staring at him like that, like you see through him. was it that obvious how pent up he was? he guesses if it was obvious to anyone else they wouldn't have the courage to bring it up. not like you, never afraid to speak your mind, and incredibly stubborn.

"...아니, i'm fine." he finally answers, you don't look convinced in the slightest. "your eyebags look like they're working overtime at the local grocery store. when's the last time you got a full night's rest?" he looks away again, not sure whether he should answer honestly or not. he's probably gotten about 5 hours this week, and that's being generous. "it doesn't matter, i hardly notice when the time is passing anyway." he tries to play it off, hoping you wont press further, and surprisingly, you drop it. "yeah, sure. if you say so. if you're functioning i guess i can't get on your case about it." he lets out a breath of relief he hadn't even realized he was holding, and instantly regrets the answer he just gave you.

shit. maybe sleep was important. untensing his body even for such a short amount of time made the consequences of crypto's lack of sleep catch up to him real quick. he holds back a yawn, before attempting to strike up another conversation with you so he doesn't completely shut down. "you said you wanted to celebrate, what did you have in mind?" "oh, i don't know. i usually just end up with some cider in the hot tub by the end of the night. what do you think?"

he thinks its a horrible idea, but maybe if you begged him enough he'd think about it. just, not in his current situation. there'd be nothing more embarrassing than passing out in a hot tub and potentially drowning. plus, depending on who was around, removing his jacket was off limits for crypto. he's hoping you'll realize on your own how dumb of an idea that really was, and you'll be okay with just watching a movie or something. whatever gets him home the fastest.

you pout at him dramatically, "you wanna go home already? but you've been here for less than an hour. you'll have all the time in the world to be a boring nerd later, okay?" oh god, did he say that out loud? maybe it was too late for him, he was already totally delirious. he plays it off by looking annoyed, but with how exhausted he obviously looks it comes across more as a cranky toddler who's been woken up from their nap earlier than they'd like. you'd never tell crypto this as you value your life, but his grumpier side is actually really cute.

"what do you want to do then? since all my ideas are horrible.." you ask, heavy sarcasm in your tone that would make anyone else think you've spent too much time around crypto, but that he finds to be quite amusing. you're rubbing off on him too, just in hopefully less noticeable ways. he thinks about your question for a second, realizing he actually doesn't have any better suggestions and huffs a sigh and shrugs. "i don't know.." he mumbles.

you laugh under your breath and quickly clear your throat when he glances back at you, "well.. what do you usually do in your free time? outside of all the extra… stuff… you do?" he shrugs again nonchalantly, "i don't have time for other stuff." glancing down at his watch, he tries to pretend like the minutes aren't passing slower than ever. he can't even use the excuse that he's wasting his time. and even if he could, he wouldn't use it to guilt you.

"if you did have time, then. what would you do with it?" "sleep." crypto responds almost immediately. his eyes have started to get much more difficult to keep open, and he knows once they're closed they won't open again for a bit. you've noticed this, and subtlety move closer towards him until your shoulder touches his. you're not sure if it's the padding in his jacket or if he's really that out of it but he doesn't react at all to the distance between you being much smaller than it was before. "i mean, nobody's stopping you. i have a spare room or you can crash here on the couch if you want."

crypto quickly shakes his head, feeling slightly lightheaded afterwards. "that won't be necessary." you decide to test the waters by gently laying your head on his shoulder. this time he flinches, but he doesn't push you away. "are you sure? you look exhausted, i don't think you could make the walk back to your apartment." he scoffs, but doesn't deny his tiredness anymore. "whatever." crypto mutters.

you lift your head up to let him adjust on the couch, and he seems insistent on falling asleep sitting up perfectly straight. "that cannot be comfortable.." you laugh as you place your head back down and gently move his to lay on top of yours. crypto almost sputters out a protest but finds he's too tired to care anymore and instead simply says "wake me up in an hour." as he yawns. "yeah right. i'll see you in 8." you smile at your own remark, and crypto smiles too before closing his eyes finally and falling asleep.

#✧;;↬ my work.❞┊🍓 #apex legends #apex crypto x reader #apex legends fanfic #apex legends x reader #apex crypto #crypto x reader #crypto x you #crypto #apex legends x you

[mountttmase]

Every Second Of Everyday

Note - I’m running out of fics 😭 this one was never supposed to see the light of day but here we are. I hope you enjoy and I’d love some feedback 🩷

Pairing - Mason Mount x Reader

Word count - 6k

Warnings - angst, fluff & smut

‘So yeah I mean Its really easy, you just have to buy in the dip but obviously you need to know when that is, I can totally teach you if you want me too”

‘Oh yeah sounds… super interesting’

Not.

Listening to a man you’d only met properly an hour and a half ago waffle on about crypto currency and NFT’s was not how you imagined your Wednesday would be going. You had no idea what he was going on about, and you didn’t care either. Disappointment had flooded through you from about ten minutes into the date, he seemed so different from when you’d been messaging. He barely asked you anything about yourself and spent the whole time trying to explain, or rather boast, to you what he did for a living.

‘I’m just popping to the loo, be back in a sec’ he smiled as he stood from his chair. You smiled back and nodded lightly, watching him walk away from you as you let out a quiet sigh of relief. Thankful you were finally alone but not two seconds later you felt your phone vibrate in your pocket. You quickly pulled it out to check it wasn’t an emergency, having not looked at it the whole way through lunch, not wanting to be rude, but the name that flashed up was the last person you thought it would be.

Mason

What the hell did he want?

You and Mason were… complicated. You knew how you felt about him and you were pretty sure he felt the same but for some reason nothing has ever come of it. You’d grown up best friends with Lauren James and her bother Reece, so it was inevitable you’d meet Mason sooner or later. Reece had always mentioned him growing up to the point where you felt like you knew him already sometimes, but you kept yourself slightly separate from that part of their lives, wanting to be the escape from football.

The moment of you meeting Mason came just under six months ago. The season had been over for a week and Reece was throwing a party at his house meaning Lauren insisted you came with her. Reece introduced you to Mason within the first ten minutes of you stepping in the door and you were hooked on him from the first look.

You obviously knew who he was but you tried to play it cool and make out you didn’t. Mason bought your calm exterior hook, line and sinker, telling you that you weren’t like most of the girls he meets at these things. You spent most of that night in his company, laughing at his stupid attempts to make you smile and falling for those gorgeous brown eyes every time you looked in them. He wasn’t anything like you thought he’d be, you were expecting an ego the size of a truck to match his perfect face but as time went on you realised he was just a normal guy who did a not so normal job. You exchanged numbers at the end of the night, him kissing your cheek promising to text you the very next day and you didn’t expect anything from him with how busy he was yet when you woke up the next day with a message from him your tummy had erupted into butterflies.

It had all started out so well, cute texts here and there and promises of seeing each other as soon as you could but nothing ever materialised. You got it, he was Mason Mount and you were you but it didn’t mean it hurt any less. The texts mostly dried up, only checking in with each other here and there and only seeing each other at social events. You’d made peace with the fact nothing probably would ever happen yet that didn’t stop him from getting his way when he wanted.

He would always make eye contact with you from across the room when you were together, smirking cheekily when he noticed the blush taking over your cheeks as his come to bed eyes raked over you hungrily. He liked the fact he could do that to you and he seemed to make it his mission to tease the life out of you. His hands always finding your waist as he passed behind you, or sitting as close as he could to you on the sofa so he could run his fingers over your thighs.

You loved and hated every second of it.

You thought he was unbelievably attractive and it only took a flash of his perfect smile to get you hot under the collar. Every time his tongue poked out between his lips to wet them made your knees weak and you were pretty certain no other boy had made you feel like this before. It wasn’t all bad, and you soon fell for his goofy playful side. Admiring the way he was always making people, yourself included, laugh at his stupid jokes and sometimes it seemed like he didn’t have a fear of making himself look like a prat. You found him awfully endearing when he wasn’t trying to get under your skin so the stupid little crush you had on him didn’t face in the slightest.

But in the last two months it had become unbearable. He was a lot braver with his actions and one night after a little bit too much to drink he’d cornered you in the kitchen, pressing feather light kisses to the top of your shoulder from behind you and slowly making his way up your neck as you were trying grab a glass. No words were exchanged as he pressed his lips to your skin, knowing he’d followed you in hoping to catch you alone and If it hadn’t been for the loud crash coming from the other room you would have let him carry on. It seemed to snap him out of whatever trance he was in though and after giving you a quick wink he turned on his heel and left you stood flabbergasted.

You told yourself that night that whatever game he was playing was over. You weren’t one to stick up for yourself, clearly, but you couldn’t stand another second of him having this weird hold over you without it leading anywhere. The next morning you dowloaded a dating app, telling yourself you needed to get out there and meet some different people and see what happens. Show him that he wasn’t free to keep dangling ideas in front of your face without acting on them.

Which is how you need up in this situation today.

Charlie had seemed nice when you matched him a few days ago. He was cute and and he made you laugh but being sat opposite him was a complete other story. This was the third different date you’d been on in a month and you were starting to loose all hope of finding anyone that made you feel a fraction of what Mason did.

You sighed as you unlocked your phone to see what he wanted but your blood ran cold as you opened up the message.

It was you.

Well the back of you anyway, sat in the exact place you were right now. You slowly turned round and your eyes locked onto his right away, sat three tables back and slightly off to the left. You whipped back around before he could do anything else and tried to calm you racing heart.

What are the bloody chances?

As soon as you finished your thought, your phone buzzed again. Another text from Mason coming through.

Why is this happening to me?

You chose to ignore it, locking your phone and turning it over, hoping he would see you’re not in the mood to talk to him. He didn’t get the hint though and you groaned under your breath as his final text come through.

You hated to admit that his assertiveness made you clench your thighs together, but there was no way in hell you were going home with him. Well that’s what you told yourself anyway.

Charlie returned from the loo soon after and after a small back and forth, you agreed to let him pay for lunch. He was putting his pin in when you saw Mason heading for the door, sending you a small smile as he made his way outside. You continued looking at him as he said goodbye to his friend and made his way over to his car. The only thought in your brain being about how good he looked in something as simple as a black T-shirt and cargos, one of your favourite things to see him in and you only snapped out of your trance when Charlie let out a small cough.

‘Sorry, I was in my own little world there’ you apologised with a smile and he just smiled in return. ‘You up too much the rest of the day?’ You enquired, hoping he was so you could make a swift exit and thankfully for you he nodded.

‘Unfortunately yes, I need to get back home and check my stocks, but I’ve really enjoyed this, we’ll have to do it again some time’ he smiled and rather than let him down gently you just nodded, gathering your things so you could get out of there and away from him as quickly as possible. He walked you to the door and put his arm around you awkwardly before leaving a light kiss on your cheek. ‘See you around then y/n’. He smiled and all you could do was smile back before he walked off, thankfully in the opposite direction than you needed.

Now you were rid of him, there was one other person you needed to send on their way before you could go home and think over your life decisions whilst drowing yourself in the tub of ben and Jerrys in your freezer.

You eyes scanned over to Masons car, still parked up, and you walked to him slowly. Telling yourself to be strong and get it over with quickly and once you were at his drivers side window you tapped on it lightly three times before the window came down revealing a slightly confused looking Mason.

‘What you doing? your doors on the other side’ he winked ‘come on, get in’

‘Yeah about that, I don’t think it’s a good idea I’m just gonna head home. I’m sure you’ve got better things to be doing anyway’ you told him. Not meaning for it to come out sounding so bitter and clearly Mason picked up on it, his smile quickly turning into a frown.

‘Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?’

You just shrugged and he studied your face for a second before he opened his door. You stepped back slightly but he grabbed your arm, pulling you back to him, slotting you in-between his legs as he sat side on.

‘Come on, I haven’t seen you in ages. Why don’t you wanna hang out?’ He asked quietly. He was giving you his best puppy dog eyes they were really working on you, he looked genuinely upset you didn’t want to spend time with him. His hands planted themselves on your waist, his thumbs rubbing gentle circles just under your top. His gentle touch was making you fold and he knew it. “Please y/n, just for a little while? I promise I’ll take you home after’ he pouted, and you cursed at yourself in your head for giving into him so quickly but you couldn’t think straight when his hands were on you and he was looking at you like he was.

‘Fine, but I can’t stay long’ you lied. You had all day free, you just weren’t sure you’d be able to handle a whole afternoon of his antics.

He gave you that cheeky smile he always did, but released you so you could jump into his passenger seat. The whole ride to his house was perfect, this was the Mason you liked, no teasing or getting you flustered for his own entertainment. He asked you how you’d been and he seemed genuinely interested when you answered, a stark contrast from the lunch you had just endured and he seemed just as excited to fill you in on everything you’d missed out on in his life recently.

Once you’d arrived at his, he led you through to the kitchen to grab you both a drink, telling you to make yourself comfy on his sofa. You’d been to his house a handful of times but always with other people, today being the first time it was just the two of you and you’d be lying to yourself if you said you weren’t nervous. You tried to relax into the corner of the L shaped sofa, telling yourself you’re just catching up with a friend and there was nothing to fret over. Mason soon returned and placed your drink down on his coffee table before flopping down right next to you, his thigh pressed right up against yours and his arm resting across the back of the sofa behind you. You could feel the tips of his fingers stroking over the material of your top making you even more dazed than before.

‘So you gonna tell me who that was you were having lunch with?’ He asked. You could tell by the tone of his voice he was on a mission to poke fun at you now and you sighed quietly. Knowing it was too good to be true that maybe for once you could just be normal with each other.

‘Just a guy’

‘What’s his name?’

‘Why do you care?’

‘Just curious’ he smirked. You knew he was trying to get at you so you thought you’d try and match his energy.

‘His name is Charlie, he’s a crypto billionaire’ you tried to say confidently but as soon as the words flew out your mouth you wished you could of stuffed them back in. Like Mason would care how much money he had? Charlie didn’t even have a fraction of a billion but you were desperate at that point to make him a little jealous. You mentally face palmed yourself when you saw Masons eyebrow twitch up into somewhat of an ammused smirk.

‘Right… and how did you meet Charlie the crypto king?’

You didn’t want to tell him how, but the longer you sat there trying to think of another way you knew he wouldn’t believe you, so you just went with the truth.

‘We matched on hinge’ you said quietly, avoiding his gaze, but you head shot up when you heard his little giggle. ‘What’s so funny?’

‘Oh come off it y/n, what’s a girl like you doing looking for guys on hinge?’

‘What do you mean a girl like me?’ You scowled. You were starting to get really annoyed with him, hoping he’d choose his next words carefully so you didn’t blow up in his face.

‘I just didn’t think a gorgeous girl like yourself would look twice at any of the guys on there’ he said with a shrug. You tried to brush past the compliment but you could feel your cheeks burning up already, knowing it was giving Mason a kick to see the effect his words had on you. ’He was nowhere near good enough for you, I could tell by the way you were sitting you weren’t feeling it. Its like you’re boredom was radiating across the room’

‘Oh yeah cause you know so much about me Mason’

‘Id like to think so, yeah’ he winked, the hand resting on his thigh now making its way onto yours. You had to ball your fists at your sides in order to keep calm. ‘If you wanted a lunch date you could of always called me, I know you’d rather have me sat opposite you’

‘You’re unbelievable’ you growled, finally rising to you feet and and making a beeline for the door.

‘Hey come on y/n don’t be like this, I’m only messing’ He teased as he jumped up after you and reached out for your arm to stop you, but you’d finally had enough. Seeing red, you yanked your arm out of his grasp and turned to face him. Ready to give him a piece of your mind.

‘You know what Mason? Yeah maybe he was a bit boring but at least he had the guts to ask me out’

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘All you do is lead me on, you make me feel like you like me and then you go cold on me its fucking exhausting. Do you think I want to be meeting up with randomers off hinge?’ You barked at him. He seemed slightly taken aback by your outburst but his eyes were looking at you hungrily. He’d never seen this side of you before and he was loving it. ‘You’re so full of yourself all the time, thinking you can just invite me back here and i’ll come running? I’m so sick of your shit-‘

Before you could think about what was happening, Mason had pulled you into him and his lips were on yours. Slowly walking you back until you were pressed up against the nearest wall, one hand on your waist, the other lightly wrapped around your throat.

He kissed better than you ever imagined he could and you cursed yourself for moaning into his mouth. The feel of his smile on your lips frustrated you even more than you thought possible and his mouth soon detached from yours as he flipped you round. Your chest now pressed to the wall, his front leaning into your back and you could just start to feel him hardening against your bum.

‘This what you wanted from me yeah?’ He whispered into your ear. You turned your face to try and look at him over your shoulder, but his lips on the other side of your neck made you close your eyes. He could feel the way your breathing was getting shallower as his fingertips raked up your side and he was eager to see just how far he could push you. ‘You still sick of my shit or you want me to keep going?’

‘Keep going’ you whimpered quietly, the words coming out your mouth before your brain could figure out what you wanted to say, and you felt him smile against your neck.

‘Good girl’

‘Im not your good girl, mase’ you countered but you knew you were just lying yourself. You always had been and you always would be.

He turned you back round and tucked your loose hairs behind your ears before leaning down and kissing you again lightly. ‘We’ll see’ he breathed into your mouth. ‘Go sit back down for me yeah?’ He asked but you waited a moment, both looking at each other to see who would break first but you could tell he wasn’t budging so you silently made you way back over to his sofa. Your fingertips touching your lips as you still couldn’t believe after all this time you’d finally kissed him.

He stood studying you for a few seconds before following you over, however instead of taking up his seat from before, he knelt down infront of you. Parting your knees and slotting himself in between them. His hands came to rest on either sides of your hips and his face now dangerously close to yours.

‘I know we’ve got some things we need to talk about, but can you please let me make you feel good first?’ He whispered, kissing you again softly. ‘I think it’s just best we get this out our system cause there’s no way I’ll be able to concentrate on anything serious if all I can think about is what’s under these clothes’

You were having an internal battle, obviously you wanted him but would it just make everything afterwards more difficult? Was he just saying this to get one over on you? He could see you were struggling with what to do so he kissed your neck trying to show you how much he needed you.

‘Please baby, just a taste’ he whispered just below your ear and you felt your whole body erupt in goosebumps. Fuck he was good. It was like he knew exactly what to say and do to you. You knew you were wrapped around his finger but up until now you hadn’t realised how much. ‘You can trust me I promise’

Could you trust him?

The only thing on your mind was the thought of him getting you down to your underwear and then him telling you it’s all a joke. That this was just a new low for him to try and get one over on you but you knew Reece would kick him into next week if he ever tried something like that and the look in Masons eyes also settled you a bit.

You wanted to say no but you you were too caught up in him finally giving you what you wanted. Thinking to yourself, even if this is all you ever got from him then you’d find a way to live with it. You just couldn’t refuse him when he was in between your thighs, promising to make it worth you while. So you nodded and kissed him back, a little deeper this time, parting your lips so he could slip in tongue in when he silently asked for permission.

God he was so good at this, you thought as his hands came to rest at the waistband of you jeans. Why the hell haven’t we done this sooner? if I had to pick between breathing or kissing Mason, I think id choose the latter.

His fingers slowly made their way to the button on your jeans, and he pulled back, looking at your face to make sure you were still comfortable. You nodded at him so he carried on, unzipping you before tapping your thigh so you would lift your hips in order for him to rid you of them. Next to come off was your top, leaving you with only your bra on underneath, thanking the lord you’d decided to put a nice one on this morning. Feeling your slight discomfort at being the only one without clothes on, he peeled his own top from his body, tossing it over the back of his sofa.

You’d seen pictures of his body before and knew what it looked like under certain things but seeing it like this in person made your mouth water. He was flawless.

His kisses resumed and then he made his way down your neck, across your collar bones and down your chest. As he mouth was nearing where you needed him, you sank back into the cushions. You felt his lips dance across the band of your underwear before he hooked his thumbs under and pulled them down you legs.

‘So fucking perfect’ he murmured between kisses over your hips and thighs, the sound of his voice made your tummy flip with anticipation.

You were torn between looking at him or laying back and just enjoying it, so you grabbed and cushion and stuffed it behind you, giving you the perfect view of what he was about to do to you. You were growing impatient with his gentle kisses on you inner thighs, wishing he would just burry his face in you already so you threaded your fingers through his hair and attempted to guide him to where you needed him. You felt him smirk against you, placing one final kiss against you before giving you what you wanted.

He teased your folds apart slowly with his tongue, and when he made contact with your clit, circling over it slowly a few times, you let out a pent up breath you hadn’t realised you’d been holding.

You couldn’t help his name falling off your lips and he moaned into you at the sound. A sound he’d been waiting forever to hear. You felt your breathing deepen as he got into his rhythm, bringing his fingers up to spread you apart even further. Your moans for him only growing louder and it was all the encouragement he needed to keep going, eventually slipping those same fingers inside of you to heighten your pleasure.

‘You taste so fucking good’ he growled and pumped his fingers into you a little faster, hitting the spot that made you cry out. ‘That feel good baby?’

‘Yes Mase, so fucking good, please keep going im so close’

If you weren’t so horrifically turned on then you might have been embarrassed about how quickly he’d managed to get you to this point but you didn’t care. You felt too good to think about anything else.

‘Come on baby, be good for me and cum’ he moaned against you and you thought in that moment you you would have done anything he asked you to. Why did he have to be so good at everything?

It only took a few more seconds and you were cumming over his fingers, his mouth still working on you to ride you through it, and when he felt like you’re breathing had calmed down, he kissed his way back up your body to you lips. You let out a small hum as you tasted yourself on his lips, a slight giggle coming from you and you tried to hide in his neck out of embarrassment. He couldn’t help but laugh himself as he sat down next to you, pulling you into his lap, both slightly overwhelmed with what had just taken place. He reached behind him for the blanket he kept there, wrapping it around the both of you.

After a few moments of silence you felt his lips lightly press on your forehead before he muttered the words ‘i’m sorry’

Ah shit.

This was part you were dreading. The first thought coming to mind was him telling you he’s sorry for making you think the two of you could be anymore than you already were. You told yourself you were fine with it, but the feeling of your heart sinking told you you weren’t.

He must of felt your disappointment, his arm tightening around you slightly whilst his other hand cupped your jaw, tilting your face up to look at him. His eyes looked soft and from the slight smile that played on his lips you thought it best to see what he had to say rather than get up and run.

‘All the cocky bullshit with you, it’s always just been a front. Truth is, the way you make me feel scares the shit out of me’ he told you gently. Your eyes pleaded with him to carry on, but the tsunami in his tummy was holding him back. He rested his head on top of yours and closed his eyes, figuring it might be easier to tell you how he felt if he wasn’t looking straight at you.

‘I’ve liked you from the first moment I saw you. Before that even’ he chuckled. ‘Recce talked about you all the time and I’ve always wanted to meet you but you make me more nervous than anyone else I’ve ever known. I think about you every second of everyday and I kick myself that I’ve never been able to just grow a pair and tell you’

You could feel his heart racing in his chest, the tempo matching your own at his words. You slowly stroked your thumb over his hand in an attempt to calm him so he could carry on, your gentle touches only making him fall for you even more.

‘I guess I just thought if we carried on the way we were then I’d still sort of have you. Like the fear of you rejecting me was worse than only having you a little bit’ he chuckled and you nuzzled into his neck a little at his confession. ‘I didn’t mean to make you feel as bad as I did though, half the time I wasn’t even trying to tease you I just wanted to be near you. I know I should of just asked you how you felt but if you haven’t noticed I’m not all that smart sometimes’

You shifted on his lap so he’s had to look at you, you noticed the pink tinge to his cheeks from all of his confessions and all you wanted to do was kiss him. His smile mirrored your own and you were now ready to share your feelings in the same way he just had.

‘Why don’t you ask me now?’

‘Huh?’

‘Ask me how I feel about you’

He took in a deep breath and shook his head lightly with a smile, almost like he couldn’t believe what he was about to do. ‘How you do you feel about me, y/n?’

Come on girl, you got this.

‘I think about you every second of everyday, too’ you whispered, causing him to giggle and burry his head in your hair. ‘It’s true, I’ve always liked you Mase. Maybe I could have been a bit braver and told you first but I couldn’t get the words out. I didn’t know for sure you liked me the way I like you and I guess I was kinda the same? I was alright with having you a little bit but that fear of rejection was holding me back’ you told him and you felt him nod into your hair and hold you that tiny bit closer. ‘I didn’t wanna go on dates with other guys but I couldn’t take not having you anymore and figured it would be a good distraction so I could move on from you but no one ever made me feel like you do’

He moved again so he could look at you, his thumb stroking over your jaw softly and a slight look of guilt dressed his face. ‘I’m sorry I made it get to that point I never meant to make you feel that way. I hated seeing you out with someone else today like it proper hurt but I suppose it gave me the kick up the backside i needed.’ you chucked and turned your face in his hand to kiss his palm. It felt amazing to finally be this close to him but the little voice in the back of your head was stopping you from fully enjoying it. Mason must have sensed your change and tilted your face back up towards his. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothings wrong, just what happens now? Where do we go from here?’

‘Well if you’d let me, I’d love to take you for dinner tonight. Like a proper date?’

‘Two dates with two different men in one day, what will people think of me’ you teased and he just laughed at your silliness.

‘Yeah well I’m saying this mornings one didn’t count. I have a funny feeling you won’t be seeing Charlie the crypto king any time soon’

You felt your face flush in embarrassment but his lips on your cheek made you smile. You snuggled into him more and he moved to lay down taking you with him and after a few moments of silence you felt his breathing getting heavier so you kissed his chest and settled down next to him.

‘Wake me up in ten minutes’ you heard him say softly and you tried to hold your giggle in at his antics.

‘Sure thing Mase’ you whispered and lent back as the face you adored slowly drifted off.

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[sadesluvr]

Dirty Little Secret

Even with a roster of sexual partners, Derek Danforth keeps coming back to you.

(Derek Danforth x GN! Reader)

A/N: I conjured this idea basically the moment Wallace started laying into Derek lmfao. You don’t have to have watched The Beekeeper to understand this (It’s chaotic and generic, but I had fun!) - Just know Derek is a coke and vape addicted, multi-millionaire crypto-selling playboy scammer who’s also the son of a president?😭 

The place mentioned in this fic (‘The Warehouse’) is fictional and not featured in the movie!

Word count: 1.3K

Tags: SMUT / Gender Neutral Reader / Drug usage (Cocaine) / WARNING: READER DOES A HIT OF COCAINE / Oral sex, M receiving / Degradation / Dirty talk / Implications of cheating / A little angsty, if you squint / This is just Reader giving Derek a blowjob so Minors DNI

‘Need u. Meet me at The Warehouse’

You needn’t check the message twice to know who it was. 

There was only one person in your life who spoke to you like this; who disappeared on most weekdays, only to show up on weekends between the hours of midnight to 5AM without a care in the world. The man’s name was Derek Danforth, a guy who ‘just happened’ to be the son of now President, Jessica Danforth.

You hadn’t met him through any lavish political gala, nor from a meet-and-greet after an inspiring TED Talk - no, he’d chosen the oh-so classy way to slide into your DM’s on Instagram. You’d come to know that fast and sleazy was Derek’s brand.

At first you’d thought it was a scam, not wanting to believe that a millionaire would even bother to speak to you, but a quick $100 transfer into your linked account had told you otherwise.

‘Think I’m real now?’ He’d messaged back, and it was from there that he’d sent a valet to your place for what was supposed to be a hookup.

He’d fucked you so good that night; the feel of his fingers gripping your ass as he pounded into you from behind still etched into your skin. He’d left marks; from marks sourced from his rabid teeth on your neck, to marks from the metal of his rings that had dug tiny scratches into your flesh.  He hadn’t shut up the entire time, grunting and groaning in your ear about how much of a dirty slut you were, and how good your tight hole felt against his cock. He’d probably said that to all the people he’d fucked.

Still, it got to you, and apparently to him also. What started as an unsuspecting DM turned into full contact, with 3AM calls and erotic FaceTime sessions. Derek was often high off of coke, or drunk, or somewhere in between, all whilst puffing on his vape, huffing the thick white air like a dragon. Fitting, because he was dangerous.

And you’d been pulled into his shiny lair once again.

The Warehouse, or what you liked to aptly dub the ‘Whorehouse’ was an underground club, apparently run by Derek’s dealer. Yes, Derek hadn’t even had the courtesy to take you to one of his many properties to do his business, deciding that a sweaty basement would be best for you.

At least you could somehow remain anonymous.

“Knees, now. I want a blowjob,” Derek said in his usual dismissive tone as he slumped on a red couch before leaning forward and sprinkling a white powder on the table. You rolled your eyes as he snorted it, watching as he ran a hand through his mullet, absorbing the endorphins into his bloodstream.

He looked up at you with furrowed brows. He wasn’t one used to dealing with insolence.

“I don’t have all day.”

“Jeez, a ‘hey’ would be nice,” you grumbled. “I had to work overtime, I barely even got settled at home —“

“So? I don���t fucking care,” he scoffed. “There’s a couch, you can settle here.”

You knew damn well there wasn’t going to be any ‘settling’. And as much as you hated it, you loved it. 

Derek spread his legs expectedly as you dived between them, struggling with his zipper to take out his hard cock. It didn’t matter if he was average sized - he'd more than proved himself to know how to use it. Still, it never got lost on you as to how thick he was, the filling sensation of his cock in your mouth for the first time becoming one of your favourites. 

He was already leaking precum, and you wasted no time in licking the fluids up before moving down to the rest of his length, with your hand planted firmly on the base of his cock. You started off with slow, but deliberate motions, desperate to feel his girth in every crevice of your mouth, motivated by the male’s drawn out moans. His head was flung back against the top of the couch, arms spread as he basically gave himself up to you - one of the rare times he would only surrender.

Until he got impatient and placed his hands on the back of your neck, grip firm as he began to drag your head up and down his length, demanding you increase the pace. Pools of spit began to build up inside of your mouth as he did, accommodating to the sudden force. Every time you retracted from his length, the pink flesh began to glimmer; shine, even, as you serviced it. To some, it was a taboo and demeaning act, but to Derek, it was the ultimate act of your submission and devotion to him. To this day, even a year on from your first encounter, you couldn’t understand why he kept coming back to you.

“Fuck,” he drawled, clenching his teeth down on his bottom as he heaved. “You’re so fucking good at this - It’s like you were just made for my cock…”

The statement caused your stomach to backflip, only encouraging you to take him deeper. His thick head was now inches away from the back of your throat, threatening to make you gag. Unfathomably, you seemed tempted to take that risk, but Derek intervened.

“Here,” he said flatly as he gently pushed you off of him, leaning down towards the table. “Try this,” 

He rolls up a fifty and guides your head along the white powder. Your nose tingles and your heart clenches a little, but there’s no immediate effect.

“It’ll take a while, but trust me, you’ll fucking feel it,” Derek smirks, drawing you from your thoughts. “Good thing we’ve got all night,”

It wasn’t long before you were back on his cock, vessel gripped firmly in your hand as you began to stroke him up and down, in tandem with the movements of your neck. 

“You’ve never had blow like this before,” he laughs, hands frantic as they gripped at his thighs, trying to hold them still. “Then again, you’ve never had a dick like this before either, hm? Don’t you have a boyfriend to go home to? Poor guy. I must have you whipped…”

Desperate to respond, you popped his cock out of your mouth, but he held up a hand to 

silence you. 

“I really don’t need to fucking hear it,” he chuckled. “You’re such a slut, you know that? You suck my dick, moan like a bitch, and keep coming back for more, but here you are arguing with me…I’m beginning to think you like this little relationship of ours,”

Who was he kidding? You both knew the truth.

You hummed, and Derek ran his tongue over his teeth, his bouncing leg beginning to quicken. His hands found your head, gripping the back of your neck as his cock began to twitch, vein throbbing against the flat of your tongue. He was always his most animalistic in the heat of the moment; and even though you enjoyed the culmination of your hard work, it was also the time where he spouted things, words and phrases that you knew were nothing but bullshit, and yet clouded your eyes with hope.

“Moan for me,” he grunted, pupils blown as they focused on the pornographic display below him. “Tell me that I’m the best you’ve ever had,”

You let out a whine, and he hummed.

“Worship me,” he continued. “Show me how much you love me…Fuck – Open your mouth…!”

Swiftly, Derek removed his aching member from your mouth, eyes wide as he watched a bridge of saliva form from your raw lips to his skin. With a few slick pumps, his fell half lidded as he came over your face, streaks of white fluid coating your cheeks and lips, with some even falling in your lashes and dripping onto your nose. He convulsed, as if he were temporarily losing grip on his sanity and panted as he tried for air. He ran his hands across his beard before he cupped your cheek, an indiscernible look in his eye before he patted it.

“Clean yourself up. I want you nice and fresh for round two.”

It pained you that you were so enthusiastic to oblige.

#florence writes!! #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth #the beekeeper #derek danforth smut #josh hutcherson #mike schmidt x reader #x male reader #gender neutral reader #gender neutral fanfic

[freak-accident419]

You Can’t Spell ‘FWB’ without ‘Friend’

Derek Danforth x GN!Reader

Summary: Ever since the night before, you and Derek had become best friends with benefits. Bored at a fancy rich person party, you two decide to hook up again. However, when you’re inexplicably taken out of the mood, you two decide to do something else for the night: hang out like the best friends you were.

Word Count: 2.9k

Content: 18+ content, MDNI, (graphic descriptions of) sex (awkward), cursing, mentions of drugs, (best) friends with benefits, platonic (but you can interpret it as potentially romantic), short read, reader and Derek are just best pals that fuck, slightly ooc Derek, reader is rich/famous like Derek, attempt to hook up in the bathroom at a party (end up hanging out instead), smoking, drinking, Star Wars references, very chaotic

(A/n: Dedicating this to my wifey @xcherryerim 🫶 your post awaiting this fic meant a lot to me :3)

-

Holy fuck, you wanted to gouge your eyes out.

You had a glass of wine in your hand, staring at the crowd of old, wealthy hags, sipping the drink briefly out of boredom.

You were at yet another fancy party in some rich person’s mansion, accompanied by your best friend Derek, the son of President Jessica Danforth and CEO of Danforth Enterprises. You had been good friends with him for a very long time, the two of you always stirring up trouble whenever together.

You stare down at the deep scarlet of your drink, intensely zoning out as you thought about the night before. A pair of hands caressing the skin on your thighs, legs tightening around hips, wrists held above your head, and loud, sultry moans and sounds filling the room.

And then you snapped out of it as you felt a tap on your shoulder. You looked up to see exactly him—Derek.

“This party is ass,” you grumble to him, taking a sip from your drink.

“I know,” he replies, sipping his. “Any luck with finding investors?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, I have people doing that for me,” you scoff.

“Right,” he nods.

“Any luck with convincing some poor girl to invest in crypto?” You ask, looking at him as you raise an eyebrow.

“Nope,” he answers with a sigh, but a smile was plastered on his face.

You chuckled at his reply. “Hah. I’m not surprised. Crypto is fucking ridiculous.”

“Hey, fuck you.”

“Hm, you already did. What, once isn’t enough for you?” you retort quickly, sneering.

Derek’s eyes widened in response, frantically looking around to see if anyone heard you, then whispered, “Would—Would you be quiet?” He stressed under his breath. “Don’t say that fucking shit out loud, what if somebody heard?”

Last night didn’t really mean to happen. Like the close friends you were, you hung out with Derek at his mansion as you regularly do. However, one thing led to another because of a bottle of pinot noir and the unfortunate appearance of a sex scene in a movie you two watched together. Accordingly, you woke up sore the next morning. You two had established that it was just hooking up, no strings attached—but nobody could know about your arrangement. Not your friends, not your co-workers, and especially not Derek’s mother. While he was known for being promiscuous, the press couldn’t find out that Derek had hooked up with you, not only a good friend of Derek, but someone who was well known in the media due to their wealth.

You roll your eyes carelessly as flashes from last night began to cloud your mind. His fast breaths, his body, his skilled hands. Yet you shook it off easily. “Oh, come on, Derek, these old, ancient fucks can’t hear shit.” An old woman looked at you in disapproval after hearing you swear, walking away from you. “Okay, well, she heard that, but nobody’s gonna know! Don’t get your fuckin’ Louis Vuitton boxers in a twist.”

“They’re not—” he huffs in annoyance. You weren’t taking this seriously, which ultimately frustrated him; your carelessness reminded him too much of himself. “Y/n, who knows what’ll happen if anyone finds out? Like, you know I have to keep my fucking reputation up, and you do too. I don’t think there’s anything Wallace could do if the press found out we hooked up.”

You pause briefly until a smirk creeps up onto your lips in realization. “You regret it, don’t you?”

“No, of course I don’t regret it,” he answers immediately. Not regretting it was clearly an understatement. He really enjoyed last night, every second, every feeling. So he was slightly confused as to why you even doubted him. “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just—” you stutter out, “I woke up and you were gone, you know.” You mutter as you took out a cigarette, placing it into your mouth and lighting it.

His mouth went dry and he pursed his lips promptly. “I had to be at Danforth Enterprises,” he says, watching you exhale the smoke from your cigarette.

“Yeah, well, you could’ve sent me a text or written a note,” you shrug. “Like, it’s your house, dude. I was supposed to be the one leaving the morning after, not you.”

“Right, sorry,” he says simply. “Force of habit.” —It was true; he had an infamous history of one-night stands.

“Plus, I’m your best friend,” you reason. “I don’t want this to, like, ruin everything we had. Like, you’re still my buddy to me.”

He looked at you with a slightly amused grin. “Hey, nothing’s gonna change between us, alright? As you said, you’re my best friend, and it’s always gonna stay that way.” You chuckled, offering him a smile as you heard his response. He could be sentimental whenever he wanted. “Look, the day our friendship will ever change is the day I’ll shut down UDG and Nine Star. Which is basically, like, fucking never. Don’t worry about it.” Even as he said the last sentence, this could be interpreted in two different ways. The first one is that he’d never be in some sort of greater relationship with you, likewise his reluctance to stop scamming. The second one, however, implies that if he ever got into something serious with you, a moral obligation will arise, forcing him to shut down his unethical phishing companies just for you. Right. That sounded ridiculous. It was definitely not the latter.

The two of you both took a sip of your drink in unison.

“But, like,” he began, swirling his glass of wine in his hand engagingly, “Is this gonna be, like, a regular thing?”

You raise an eyebrow curiously after taking a sip of your own. “Like, hooking up?” He nods. “I mean… Whatever happens, happens.”

“Uhh, how do you mean?”

“Like, if it was a one-time thing, so be it. But if it’s gonna become regular, then also so be it,” you took a drag of your cigarette. “Doesn’t really matter. We can just, like, do whatever we want. Nothing has to be all predetermined. If we feel like fucking, then we’ll fuck. If not, then great, another day of walking normally.”

“Right,” he says.

You were bored.

So fucking bored.

You dressed all fancy for nothing, you feel. You were obligated to go the same reason Derek had: your wealthy, famous status. But it was so underwhelming and useless, even. As long as you made an appearance, then that should’ve been enough for everybody.

You put out your cigarette and finish your wine, nearly chugging it.

“Hey,” you tap on Derek’s shoulder, making him turn around to look at you after he had been gazing at a potential crypto girl. “Wanna do a quickie in this rich loser’s bathroom?”

He raises an eyebrow in interest.

***

You were held up against the wall of the bathroom, legs wrapped around Derek’s hips as his hands held you by your thighs, pounding his cock in and out of you at a fairly quick pace. Your hands held onto his arms and your chin rested on his shoulder tiredly as the occasional skin slapping against skin sound echoed in the room, hearing Derek grunt with almost every thrust.

You felt slightly uncomfortable and awkward. Like, you weren’t really aroused. It felt… dry? You didn’t know what you meant by that, but the friction was just… unsatisfying. He was grazing your walls in a way that just made it feel like burning, increasing your discomfort. But at least he looked like he was enjoying this. Good for him, you guessed.

This never happened before, so it was sort of… really weird to you, to say the least.

To be honest, you were kind of bored. Like, really bored. How the hell were you still bored? You temporarily escaped an old rich people party to have rigorous sex in their bathroom with your best friend, but you were still bored.

“Shit…” you mutter, disgruntled, as he moved consistently inside you, the burning sensation catching up with you. “What the fuck? Why does—ow—Why the fuck is this hurting?”

Derek pulls his head away from your shoulder and looks at you in concern, his dick still inside of you. “Are you okay? Should I go slower?” He offers, raising an eyebrow as he searched for hesitance in your eyes, then looking you up and down.

“Yeah, sure, okay,” you nodded. “It’s whatever, just—just keep going,” you dismiss in a low murmur. As he starts again at a slower pace, you still had an uncomfortable expression on your face. He was moving his hips but all you felt was mere irritation.

“Okay, what—what the hell?” You groan as you still felt shitty, resulting in Derek stopping his thrusts.

“What’s the issue? Am I still going fast? Should I slow down more?”

“Yeah, uh, probably, yeah,” you say as your head goes back on his shoulder. He proceeds with his movements, his cock sliding in at an even slower pace, stretching your walls more intricately.

“Is this—is this better?” He asks as he moves patiently, steadily moving in and out of your body.

And it wasn’t even a minute in before you would interrupt again.

“Umm… Actually I,” you begin, sighing, “I’m just—I don’t know, I’m not feeling it.”

Derek slides out, still holding you up against the wall by your thighs and raises an eyebrow, looking into your eyes. “Seriously?”

You nod simply.

“Okay, what’s wrong?” He asks, unsure if it was something on his part.

“I don’t know, I’m just not really feeling it,” you reply awkwardly.

“Weren’t you the one who brought it up—”

“I’m not feeling it anymore, dude, I’m sorry!” you exclaim, throwing your hands up in surrender.

He puts you down as you put your clothing back on. As you slip your underwear back on, you look at him standing by the same spot by the wall. “Are you still hard?” You ask, raising an eyebrow insightfully.

“Yup,” he shrugs shamelessly.

You sort of felt bad, since you were the one who had the idea of fucking in the bathroom in the first place, making him all riled up.

You sigh softly and you two look at each other in silence. You let out a quiet huff.

“Want me to jerk you off?”

Soon after his release, he put his boxers and pants on leisurely. You were in front of the mirror, trying to fix your hair and clothing, ensuring that you didn’t just come back from a sexual experience in the bathroom.

“Dude, look at how much expensive perfume these jagoffs own,” you chuckle amusedly, looking down at the bathroom sink counter. On the surface were several perfumes of Armani, Burberry, Dolce & Gabbana, as well as a few lotions.

“Hey, don’t—don’t touch those, Y/n.” Too late. You sprayed him with one.

You two grimaced at the scent.

“Well shit, I didn’t even know what I expected,” you cough severely, waving your hand around your nose as you despised the shitty perfume’s smell.

“I told you not to touch them, idiot,” he huffs, buckling his belt as he scowled at the odor.

“Don’t be a dickwad, you totally would’ve been curious enough to try them too,” you scoff, looking through the cabinets of the bathroom mirror and sinks. “Hey, look,” you smirk, throwing a small object at him that you had found.

He caught it involuntarily with his hands and inspected the item: it was a bottle of Viagra. He raised an eyebrow, looking at you and laughed softly. “I am not surprised that these old fucks can’t get it on,” he threw it back at you and you shelved it back in its original place.

You watch him take a hit from his vape and you sigh from boredom. You didn’t want to be in this bathroom any longer, but you definitely didn’t want to be out in the party either.

“Dude, I’m bored,” you whine as he handed you his vape pen.

“‘Sup Bored, I am Derek,” he muttered sarcastically, under his breath. You rolled your eyes and handed him back his vape once you were done with it.

“Can you—can you not?” you mumble exasperatedly in response as he just raised an eyebrow in amusement.

“Okay, let’s go,” he says, making his way towards the door, “We’re getting out of here, you can ride with me.”

“Hold on,” you interject quickly. “We should—I mean—I should probably wait a few minutes after you leave the bathroom to get out. You know, so no one will suspect us if we were to, like, walk out of the bathroom together.”

“Right. Yeah. Yeah, you have a point,” he nods.

You had to be careful from now on, realizing that just through the mere plan of leaving the bathroom alternately. This meant you had to be more delicate and thoughtful with every action and word that came from you—and Derek’s—to keep this messy secret.

***

You were laid on the bed beside Derek, one hand tangled in his hair and the other holding an ice cream cone as the bright colors of the TV in front of you nearly blinded your eyes. Your arm was propped up behind Derek’s head in order to play with his hair, feeling the soft curls brushing your palm and fingertips. The two of you looked intensely at the screen as you ate your ice cream in one hand, which was graciously prepared by Derek’s personal chef.

“Dude, Jar Jar Binks was definitely a Sith Lord,” you blurt in a low mutter. Derek turns his head and looks at you in befuddlement.

“What? No. Y/n, no, no, no, do not get started on this again—”

“I’m just saying, dude, that whole ‘goofy idiot’ appearance was hiding the fact that he was a powerful Sith Lord!” You exclaim passionately. “Have you seen his fighting style?”

“Yes, I’ve seen his fighting style, and it looks as if he’s chugged twenty fuckin’ martinis, then atrociously became crossfaded through several, reckless bong rips,” he replied straightforwardly.

You pause briefly as you realized. “Derek, I swear, if that was a reference to that one hangover I had back in December, I swear fucking to god—”

He met you with silence.

You nearly whisper, “Was it?”

The smirk that rose onto his lips told you everything, and you playfully smacked the top of his head since your hand was already there before, tangled in his hair. “Ow,” he muttered, yet his smirk never ceasing. “Look, all I’m saying is that I respect you for that. You are, like, the craziest person I know in the best fucking way possible.”

“Uh, thanks, I guess,” you mumble, fighting the inevitable curl of your lips that formed a flattered, soft grin. “Okay, anyways, all I’m saying, is that not only was it a tactic to trick his opponents, but he could’ve also been using the force! And how many times has he avoided death?”

“Okay, Y/n, that’s enough, lay off the grass,” he jokes, letting out a low snicker. “How is Jar Jar even relevant? We—we aren’t even watching the prequels, isn’t this The Empire Strikes Back?”

“No, I’m pretty sure we’re watching Return of the Jedi,” you say confidently.

“No, this is—this is definitely Empire Strikes Back,” he refutes, then pauses. “Did we seriously forget?”

“Well, there’s a billion of movies in this franchise, so we’re bound to mix up its titles. Hm, well, it can’t be The Empire Strikes Back, because Return of the Jedi is the one with that sexy Leia outfit,” you reason, shrugging. Derek raises an eyebrow. “Okay, okay, you know what, this isn’t even the point, the point is, that Jar Jar is relevant because it’s fuckin’ Star Wars!”

“Whatever,” Derek rolls his eyes with an amused grin that swiftly transitioned into a mischievous smirk. “You look like Jar Jar,” he mumbles.

You let out a playful, offended gasp. “Oh yeah? You look like Jabba the Hut.”

His head turned directly towards you and let out a exaggerated gasp as well. “Fuck you, you look like Yoda!”

“And you look like that fucking gremlin-looking piece of shit that’s Jabba’s pet!”

“Yeah, well, you look like—”

This continued a little longer until the both of you got too tired, unable to think of any more ugly Star Wars characters to compare each other to—which then resulted in a peaceful truce.

Your fingers proceeded to play with Derek’s curls as you took a bite of your ice cream, then letting your head rest on his shoulder. With this action, however, you suddenly thought about the night before and how things had led up to that event.

“Hey, are there any sex scenes in this?” You ask quietly, feeling his short strands of hair tangle loosely around your fingers.

He scoffs with a slight grin. “It’s a fucking Star Wars movie.”

You two burst out laughing. “Right, right, that’s—you have a point,” you giggle, catching your breath. “Oh, thank god, then.”

“Why? Are you that against having a repeat of last night?” He accuses, attempting to sound more playful, rather than the genuine concern that he felt.

“No, it’s just—” You struggled to think about how you wanted to word it. “I really like this. You know? I’m too tired, I’m very comfy, I…” You nuzzled further into his neck as your head rested on his shoulder. “This is nice. I like this.”

He smiles warmly to himself. “I like this too.”

The rest of the night was quite tame. You finished your ice cream before you finished the movie. Except, you didn’t really finish the movie entirely, because you two fell asleep in each other’s arms in the middle of it. Yet seen through your easy laughter and smiles, you were reassured indubitably: nothing was ever going to change between the two of you.

#derek danforth #derek danforth x reader #derek danforth x you #derek danforth x gn!reader #derek danforth smut #the beekeeper #the beekeeper movie #the beekeeper fanfic #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #mike schmidt x reader #josh futturman x reader #clapton davis x reader #gender neutral #gender neutral reader

[bbygirlpascal]

Unexpected (Pedro Pascal x Fem Reader)

18+ NSFW: Please do not interact with my posts if you are under 18.

Summary: Your called-off engagement has left you dating shitty men and having even shittier sex. Luckily, your best friend Pedro is always there to cheer you up and keep you entertained.

You always thought of Pedro as a friend, nothing more. Someone you can hang out with at the ungodly hours of the night when no one else was awake, you could count on him to be up. Ever since you’ve been living on your own in your home you’ve felt lonelier than ever. Your engagement to the man you thought was your soulmate had been called off almost 5 months now but it has yet to get easier.

Mindless, no strings attached flings here and there surely kept you occupied, but never pleased. Going out on dates with men you knew only wanted one thing, and spoke big game on their performance but always failed to deliver when you actually fucked.

Tonight was no different and you just wanted this guy out of your house. He was jabbering on about something you weren’t even paying attention to, you were just nodding your head and zoning out.

“Listen, I don’t feel so good. I think I want to lay down and sleep the night off. I’ll call you tomorrow, ok?” you said to him.

“Sure, no problem (Y/N), it was great meeting you,” he sheepishly smiled as you walked him over to the door. Not giving him any ounce of a hint that you needed or wanted a goodbye kiss. Turning around and slumping onto the couch, you grabbed your phone and called Pedro.

“Hey Pedrito,” you said to him and chuckled.

“Hey mama, what’s up?”

“Just ended my date, he was going on about some bullshit like crypto or something I almost fell asleep, no joke and he kept staring at my tits all. night.” you turned around and laid on your back, “Are you up to anything tonight? I’m bored.”

“No I’m free, I’ll be there in about 20,” he hung up and you pushed yourself off the couch to get yourself unready for the night. This part of your night was your favorite, almost ritualistic when you thought about it.

You were in the middle of brushing through your hair and you heard your doorbell ring. Making your way to the front door you opened it to a smiling Pedro, holding a bottle of your favorite liquor.

“I had some of your favorite so I figured I’d bring it with me,” he stepped in to the door and gave you a peck on the cheek, “Good to see you.”

“You too. I’ll get us some glasses.”

Pedro made his way into your living room, the glow from the pool in your backyard reflecting onto the ceiling, making silver ripples bounce and dance on the wooden beams. You walked out with glasses in hand and Pedro was standing in front of the sliding glass door looking outside at the pool.

“I think we should go for a swim.”

“What about a float swim? I don’t want to get my hair wet,” you said, recalling the labor you just went through to get your hair to its current state.

“What is a float swim?” he chuckled and raised an eyebrow.

“You know...just sit on our floats in the water. No swimming involved,” you said to him, “A float swim.”

“Ah, make sense. I’ll meet you out there.” he scurried to your guest bathroom to get changed.

You made you way into your bedroom to put on your bathing suit. Most of your suits barely covered anything on your body, your ass was out and your breasts peeking out of the sides of the triangle shaped fabric that hardly covered them.

You and Pedro floated around for awhile, sipping on your vodka martinis and laughing about the stories you told each other. Soon you felt too prune-y and figured it was time to get out, plus it was getting a little chilly. As Pedro so lovingly pointed out and joked about your nipples being hard enough to cut glass.

You stepped into the guest bathroom to go pee and hang up your bathing suit, your normal routine since you didn’t have room to hang up your bathing suit in your master bath. Naked and drying yourself off, you heard the door knob move and turned around to see Pedro. He didn’t even realize you were in there until he looked up.

“Oh god, sorry (Y/N), sorry,” he swiftly moved to step back out of the door frame. Slightly embarrassed but not enough to make things awkward, you finished drying yourself off and wrapped your towel around yourself.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t notice the light was on, I should’ve knocked.”

“Pedro,” you walked over to him and placed your hand on his arm, “it's okay. I think we’re bound to see each other naked at some point.”

You’re not really sure why you even said that, the vodka was definitely speaking more so than you thought.

“Sorry, that came out differently than I thought it sounded in my head,” you chuckled nervously, “but seriously, don’t worry.”

Pedro moved closer to you, “So, you want me to see you naked?”

Your cheeks felt hot, you could feel his gaze on you and you tried to avoid eye contact with him.

“Have you thought about me like that, (Y/N)?”

You nodded your head yes. Pedro was inches from your face now, he used his finger to tilt your chin up, your faces nearly touching. You inhaled his scent, his familiar scent. He caressed your cheek with the back of his hand, you leaned into his hand fluttering your eyes closed. Nerves and bubbling excitement coursed through you. Never did you think you’d be in this position with Pedro of all people. You’d thought about him romantically, sure and when you first met him you had a crush on him, but he was taken – so friends it was. But now, it was different.

Pedro came closer to you and kissed your lips. Gentle but with so much passion and want you could hardly contain yourself. You ran your hands along his bare arms, still droplets of water on them from the pool. You laced them into his hair, nudging his head closer to your face. He pulled away and looked into your eyes.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he looked at you intently, “Cause if we do this, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop.”

You bit your lip and looked into his eyes as you crashed your lips back onto his. He backed up and you both made your way into the kitchen. He grabbed you by your waist and plopped you on top of the counter. The cold ceramic counter against your bare ass make you squeal but you kept your lips locked. Sloppily tonguing at each other, letting saliva coat each other’s lips.

Pedro made his way down towards your collar bones, stopping to lick and suck on the sensitive part of your neck. Giving you goosebumps all along your body. He lowered your towel and exposed your breasts instantly latching his mouth around your nipple. Cupping your breast and kneading it with his calloused hands. You threw your head back letting out small whimpers as he teased the sensitive bud and send waves of pleasure to your core.

Subconsciously spreading your legs to rub your pussy on him, needing even an ounce of friction to ease the pleasurable pain.

“Patience baby girl, I’ll help your little aching pussy soon,” he growled as he continued to suckle on your breasts. You could see his hard on in his swim trunks, you certainly didn’t think Pedro was small but you never thought he was that big. You thought about his thick cock entering you and bit your lip.

“Pedro, please baby,” you begged him, your cunt dripping with wetness. Pedro grabbed your legs and lifted them up, your pussy off the edge of the counter, totally exposed to him and he was aching to devour you.

“So pretty baby, your pussy is so pretty,” he said, looking you in the eye as he licked his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, “Mmm, and you’re so wet for me mama.”

You were practically already about to cum at his words. You mercilessly rubbed and rolled your hips against his tongue as he sucked and lapped at your clit. The wet, obscene sound filling your ears was like music. He slid in two of his fingers into your entrance, you could hear how wet you were and he was fingering you so perfectly you were on the verge of screaming.

He continued at his pace, licking and sucking and fingering you into oblivion, until you couldn’t take it any longer. “I’m gonna cum baby,” you whined to him, gripping his hair.

“Cum in my mouth mama, come on,” he talked you through it and your core contracted around his fingers, the pleasure bursting from your belly. He continued fingering you through your orgasm, “Yeah that’s it baby. Cum for me.”

You breathlessly propped yourself up, ready to please him and aching to have his cock in your mouth. Your lips locked once more as he grabbed you from your ass and led you to the bedroom. Sitting down on your knees on the carpeted floor, you pulled down his swim shorts.

His cock spring out, his head glistening with drops of pre cum that made your mouth water. You puckered your lips onto his tip, swirling your tongue around it before deep throating his length into your mouth. He practically growled as he dropped his head back, shallow breaths escaping his lips every time you bobbed your head up and down.

“Yes (Y/N), your pretty little mouth feels so good,” he said to you, gathering your hair into a ponytail in his hand, “Sucking on my cock so good, my little slut.”

He thrusted his cock into your mouth, drool dropping onto your tits as it spilled from the sides of your mouth. You crept your hand up to cup his balls, Pedro straining to not cum right then and there.

He pulled his cock out of your mouth and you rose up off of your knees, towards the bed.

“Turn around mama,” you obliged and Pedro gently nudged your top half to the mattress. You stuck your ass up and buried your face into your duvet. A sharp smack to your ass made you yelp and Pedro let out a soft hum as he rubbed the reddened area. He ran his tip along your folds, collecting your wetness before plowing himself into you.

Your walls stretched out to accommodate his size, almost painful at first but the pleasure quickly overpowered it as he rolled his hips and stuffed his cock into your pussy.

“Pedro, oh my god baby,” you said to him, gripping the comforter as he plowed into you, hitting your spot perfectly every time.

“Baby, I’m gonna cum. Holy fuck. You feel so good, so big.”

“Cum on my cock princess, I wanna hear you scream.”

Your moans were feral, your walls clenched around his cock. You were seeing stars and you could feel the heat of his seed coating your walls and he smacked and gripped your ass. You lifted the top of your body up, leaning back into his chest. Taking in his scent and feeling his chest heave up and down quickly.

“That was...amazing,” you said to him, thighs shakily trying to keep yourself up.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that,” he said and sensually kissed your neck, leading his way to your lips and wrapping his arms around your waist as he squeezed you tightly.

#pedro pascal fanfic rec #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal fluff #the last of us #hbo tlou #the last of us hbo #the mandolorian #hbo the last of us

[keeganmantle]

Shiver's escorting me to bed now.😊

She seems sad about my safety slowly going away on Twitter. If they do remove the block feature, thank you all for the memories.❤️

If you guys leave Twitter, I'm running. I don't wanna leave but it ain't the same anymore.😔

The constant glitches, the bots, the h*rny creepy old ladies who still bother me a bit and probably will be having a field day since I can't block these creeps anymore, I'm tired of it!!! And now, crypto simps keep replying to me! What is your deal, Musk?! Thank you all so much for keeping me safe here on Tumblr as well. I'll never get over Facebook. Well, Marina's singing me to sleep now. Time to fall asleep in her loving arms.🥰

Goodnight guys. You're all the reason I feel safe in the first place.🥹

#splatoon #comfort characters #marina ida #goodnight #shiver #best girls #twitter #screw crypto #screw elon musk #screw perverts #screw x #screw scammers #thank you #safety