#god i want him to track me down and pin me against a wall he's so needy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yeonzzzn · 8 days

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hihi!! perhaps mayhaps enhypen ot6 (still kinda feel weird reading smut on ni-ki 😀⁉️) catching yn masturbating to them (e.g. sees yn with a photo of them or like ,, yn moaning out their name,etc)

i’m gonna write this as hyung line since it’s who I mostly write smut for, hope that’s okay! and yeah no I won’t ever write smut for niki. it’s never happening 🙅🏻‍♀️

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‎‧₊˚✧[ HEESEUNG ]✧˚₊‧

he would be completely floored. homie would be minding his business, playing a round of LOL with his friends and swearing up and down he kept hearing his name being called. eventually removing one of the earmuffs from his ear to be correct, he was hearing his name being called, coming from you more specifically.

heeseung would quickly stand up and make his way to your room filled with worry thinking something was wrong. but would stop dead in his tracks seeing your bedroom door is cracked open and hearing your lewd sounds coming from the other side of the door. heeseung would peak inside, carefully pushing the door open to seeing you sprawled out on your bed, legs spread so wide and your fingers pumping in and out of your wet cunt quickly, heeseung’s name spilling from your lips in gasped moans, chanting it over and over. heeseung would get hard immediately, his face and ears turning a bright red. loving how you look as you moan out his name. it’s clear that you want him, and oh god he wanted you too. heeseung could interrupt right now, but deciding against it. you looked way to sexy to him to just stop you. heeseung would lean against the doorframe and pull his shorts down past his hips until his hard cock was set free, his hand pumping himself to the same rhythm as your fingers pushing in and out of you. he would eventually lose himself, letting out gasped moans of your name, nearly scaring you to death after finally noticing him, your door now wide open as heeseung slid to the floor, resting his back to your bedroom wall, “don’t stop baby,” he groans, “keep touching yourself for me, I’m so close…please. wanna see you cum with me.” how could you say no?

‎‧₊˚✧[ JAY ]✧˚₊‧

jay wouldn’t be shocked at all most since he would always walk around your shared apartment without a shirt on, always making you so weak in the knees for your roommate. mostly after he finishes showering and has his hair all wet and sticking to his forehead with nothing covering him but a thin towel and seeing the outline of his cock as he quickly walks to his bedroom to get dressed. how could you not touch yourself after seeing that? mostly when it’s a daily occurrence in this apartment. hell, one time he walked back to the bathroom and tied the towel just below his hips to quickly slick his hair back and left the bathroom door open…how could you not snap a quick pic with your phone? it was a godly sight. one to burn into your memory. so obviously you’d use that photo to masturbate in the safety of your room…when jay wasn’t home. except one day he came home early and you didn’t hear him walk in. you left your door wide open, being completely naked on your bed and legs spread apart as your fingers pushed inside you, your free hand holding your phone with the photo of jay and you moaning out his name. of course jay hearing this peaked his curiosity, him snooping to your bedroom and seeing the sight before him, eyes glueing to your slick that spilled from your cunt and pooling at your sheets, eyes eventually moving up to your naked body and then seeing the photo of your phone. you nearly jumped out your skin at feeling jay’s hand wrap around your wrist. he smirked at you, “why did you stop? go on, continue. had no problem fucking yourself to a half naked photo of me, might as well do it with me right here.” jay pinned your hand down to your bed, his free hand shoving down his shorts and taking his cock in hand, “come on now pretty, don’t stop.” you obeyed.

‎‧₊˚✧[ JAKE ]✧˚₊‧

homie wouldn’t know what to do after catching you. he’d be so embarrassed for snooping on you time and time again after the first time but not being able to get enough of hearing how beautifully his name slid from between your lips as you touch yourself. jake would lean against the wall outside your room and fuck up into his fist, biting his tongue to keep from screaming out your name. eventually jake wouldn’t be able to keep quiet anymore, needing to physically see you fuck yourself instead of just hearing it through the thin wall between your two bedrooms or outside your door. jake would be so far gone that he wouldn’t think twice from standing up off the floor and quickly opening your bedroom door, loving that the first thing he sees is your cunt on full display for him, your fingers knuckles deep inside. you’d quickly try and cover yourself, ready to yell at him for being such a pervert until he rushes in and lays down beside you, already making work of pushing off his jeans and positioning his cock in hand, “masturbate with me honey,” he says, making direct eye contact, “you had zero problem moaning my name for weeks. I wanna hear you scream my name as you cum, I’ll cum with you,” jake would start to pump himself, mouth slack as he kept looking into your eyes, “fuck you’re so pretty, touch yourself for me honey, moan my name.” jake looked way to hot like this to not continue pushing your fingers in and out your cunt. both of you were a moaning mess until a mixture of both your cum stained your bedsheets.

‎‧₊˚✧[ SUNGHOON ]✧˚₊‧

home boy would be on such a power trip hearing you moan out his name in the middle of the night as you touch yourself. he’d be laying in bed smirking so fucking hard at the pure fact he doesn’t even have to be the one touching you to get you screaming out his name. sunghoon would be confused at first, thinking he was just hearing things and eventually drifting off to sleep until he heard you moan out his name and he knew he wasn’t hearing things. you indeed were moaning his name while you masturbated. it would give sunghoon such an ego boost. he already knew he was hot shit, but after hearing your pretty voice scream for him? it only made it worse. sunghoon would also be so fucking turned on by it. he couldn’t lie and say he never jerked himself off to you, he was very much attracted to you, he just didn’t think you felt the same and now that he knows you do, you aren’t safe from him. sunghoon would quickly pull himself out of bed and make his way to your bedroom, pressing his ear gently to the wood of your door, waiting to confirm you are indeed still moaning out his name. once that confirmation was cleared, he wouldn’t hesitate to just open your door, crossing his arms and smirking at how you look on your bed, completely naked as you continued to fuck yourself, staring deeply into his eyes. you were so close to finishing and even though you were embarrassed to have been caught, your need to cum outweighed it. “how cute,” he coos, “getting caught moaning my name and still going? that’s so fucking hot,” he would then make his way into your bedroom, towering over you and sliding his hand on top of yours, helping you push your fingers inside your cunt faster, “looks like you need some help, princess. I’ll make you cum hard, don’t worry.

#yeonzzzn asks #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hyung line #enhypen smut #heeseung smut #park jay smut #sim jake smut #park sunghoon smut #yeonzzzn writing #heeseung #jay #jake #sunghoon #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon

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mistywaves98 · 2 months

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Hello hi hi your writing is very nice so like.... scara x bratty reader smut where reader is really condescending and annoying but they get put in their place??? HBsjbejd 😵‍💫😵‍💫

✧･ﾟ:* ->Scaramouche x Bratty! Fem! Reader

✧･ﾟ:* ->¡Warnings!: NSFW, Overstimulation, (slight) Bondage, Degradation + Praise, Dirty talk, Kind of short ngl!

✧･ﾟ:* ->Smut written by a minor!

You'd lost track of how many times you've came by now. It felt like hours since Scaramouche got fed up with your attitude and decided to take matters into his own hands. Now you've found yourself pinned to the bed on your stomach, knees planted into the mattress which caused your back to arch uncomfortably. Your hands were bound behind your back with a piece of rope that dug into your delicate skin, bound to leave marks afterwards. His hand was pressed against the side of your face, pushing your head down into the pillow covered with your drool and tears.

His pace was unforgiving, fast strokes which drove your fucked out face deeper into the fluff. The feeling of your walls fluttering around his cock made him groan as he leaned down, chest flush against your sweaty back to whisper into your ear,"You should hear yourself, moaning for my cock like a common whore...F-fuck—! Tightening around me so well... C-come on, just admit it. Hah...You can't resist me.."

Despite being on the verge of another orgasm, you couldn't help but choke out a snarky response through whines,"A-as if..! I— Mnghh!" Your sentence is cut off as a hand slams down on the back of your neck, forcing your head into the pillow even more. Your entire body tenses and you can't help but let out a cry as you gush around his cock, coating it with more of your essence that seeps through the already- stained sheets.

"God... Got you cumming and whimpering on my dick and yet you still have the nerve to fucking defy me..! Ngh—! Don't worry, b-by the end of this, I'll be sure to have all the attitude fucked out of you...!" He growled, hips meeting yours so brutally that your entire body rocks back and forth on the bed which was now creaking at an alarming volume.

Your consciousness was starting to waver now, the exhaustion catching up to you. It all felt so good, maybe even too good. All you could think about was the feeling of his length sliding in and out of you, the tip kissing your g-spot so precisely you wouldn't be surprised if you climaxed once more soon. Your mind felt hazy and unclear, you couldn't even form a coherent thought, let alone full sentences. Any word you attempted to speak came out as a mere murmur which faded to a moan.

"What was that? Did I finally dumb my bratty girl down to a fucked out mess? Think you can be an obedient slut now? Hah..! You probably can't even register my words..." He mocked, briefly laughing in a satisfied manner. Scaramouche was right, you really were too drunk on pleasure to form a single thought or word in that little head of yours. The sight of you lying there, taking everything he gave you was so arousing, it made him feel like he could keep fucking you all night.

And that's exactly what he planned to do. He continued to thrust into your abused pussy till he finally came with a grunt, filling it with his seed which met with your cum in an erotic mixture of fluids. Scaramouche slowed his pace a bit as he rode out his high, relishing the sweet moans from you as he fucked his cum into you. Before you knew it, his pace increased its speed again, making it clear that he wasn't going to be stopping anytime soon.

Your body was already so sensitive and sore at this point, you wanted to apologize for your insolence but now you could barely get a mere 'sorry' out. As if reading your thoughts, Scaramouche reached a hand down and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling it back harshly to lift your head out of the pillow. Tears streaked your face, flowing down from your puffy eyes over reddened cheeks before dripping onto the pillow below.

"It's too late to say sorry now, sweetheart. I'm going to ruin you tonight and you're going to enjoy it... Perhaps next time you'll think twice about disobeying me..."

#genshin smut #smut #x reader smut #genshin impact smut #genshin impact x reader smut #✧･ﾟ:* meena's memos! ✧･ﾟ:*#scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader smut #scara smut #scara x reader smut

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leclerc-hs · 5 months

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lucky (bonus!) - cl16

Pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader Summary: in which you and your childhood best friend have sex for the first time. Warnings: BAD FRENCH! (I didn't get to check these translations so if they're wrong please correct me and I will fix!), smut, angst, cheating (oops) Word Count: 1,381 Author's Note: hi! I felt that Charles and Lucky having sex later in their friendship was the right move. I was in between making them younger, but it didn't feel right writing about teenagers having sex to me lmaoooo. I love you guys and hope that you enjoy!!! please leave feedback I love hearing from you all. xo PART 1 PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

HE WINS IN Spa; He wins in Monza!

The air was filled with a mix of adrenaline, joy, and the unmistakable scent of burnt rubber from the track. The vibrant red of the Ferrari flowed under the brilliant Italian sun, reflection the passion of this moment. The crowd’s cheers echoed, creating a symphony of celebration that seemed to envelop the entire circuit.

Your heart raced with a blend of pride and excitement, knowing that your best friend had achieved something extraordinary. The victory at the Ferrari home race was more than just a win; it was a triumph that would be etched in the annals of racing history.

Turning your attention to the podium, you marveled at the sight of your best friend standing tall, a champion stood above in the midst the cheering crowd. His racing suit adorned with the iconic prancing horse; he wore the victorious smile of someone who conquered not just the track but the hearts of fans worldwide.

The tears welled up in your eyes, a testament to the shared journey and countless hours of hard work, dedication, and sacrifice that led to this moment. You were so happy for him.

The podium ceremony unfolded with the spraying of champagne, and as the golden droplets shimmered in the sunlight, you couldn’t help but feel proud as you savored the moment completely.

“Il s’est très bien debrouillé!” He did so well! You muttered to Lorenzo who greeted you with a big hug of excitement.

“Oui! You’re needed in his driver’s room,” Lorenzo responded with a smile. “Il m’a dit plus tôt.” He told me earlier.

You patiently waited in his driver’s room, lounging on the compact leather couch. When the door swung open at last, with his race suit unzipped at his waist, you leaped to your feet with excitement.

You cried out, “Mon dieu, Charlie!” My God, Charlie! before leaping right into his arms, clinging onto him tightly. “Je suis tellement fiere de toi!” I am so proud of you!

He felt his heart pound rapidly as you leaped into his arms. He wanted to tell you right then and there that he was in love with you.

“Nous devons célébrer!” We must celebrate! You waited for him to place you back down on your feet, but he never did. At least not as soon as you thought he would. He just held you there, staring at you as if you were the sun.

“My Lucky,” he says. “It’s all because of you.”

It was quick. One second, he was smiling at you as he held you up against him, and the next you were pressed against the door with his lips on yours. You felt your stomach clench from the heat of the kiss.

“Est-ce que c’est bon?” Is this okay? You nodded into the kiss. Yes – yes it’s okay.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this. In fact, it wasn’t supposed to happen at all. You both could blame it on the fact that he just won a major race or the rush of emotions from the win. But it was just love. Not that either of you would ever admit it.

His hips had you pinned to the wall, completely at his mercy, while his hands fumbled with the button of your jeans. “Puis je les enlever?” Can I take these off?

You didn’t provide a verbal response; instead, you assisted by pushing the jeans down and shimmying out of them. His fingers immediately nudging their way past your cotton panties and hooking two of them right into your center as his thumb rubbed your clit in quick circles.

“Tu es tremée,” You’re soaked. He moaned into your mouth, the vibration of his groan echoing hotly into your mouth.

You moaned back softly into his. Your moans alone were enough to send Charles into a rampage. He wanted to listen to you for eternity. It was in this moment, he thought he never wanted to hear anything else from your mouth again.

You skillfully removed his race suit from his hips before he guided you to the same compact sofa you just waited patiently on. His lips never left yours as you both fell to the couch – you now straddling him.

You both were so frantic. So needy. The only time your mouths separated was for him to whisper the foulest things. They only fueled you to ride him harder.

You’re so fucking tight.

Just like that.

Squeezing me like you’re going to come, Lucky.

Such a good girl.

C’mon let me feel you come.

I can feel how fucking wet you are.

You both came simultaneously, heavy breaths exchanged into each other’s mouths. It was so hot.

The suddenness of it all left you breathless, caught off guard by the intensity of the moment. One second, his tongue was pushing its way into your mouth again. The next, you were pushing him away, standing up from the couch as you rushed to find your jeans and get them back on.

The reality began to sink in, a shadow over the fleeting moment. He has a girlfriend, a detail that changed the complexion of the situation. You felt sick to your stomach as the reality began to weigh down on you.

Although the term girlfriend was a bit of a stretch, you felt awful. But you didn’t regret it. You could never regret anything with Charles. He was your person. Your best friend.

“Nous ne pouvons pas refaire ça.” We can’t do this again.

“Lucky.” His arms, once a source of comfort, now felt like constraints as he grasped you. The taste of his kiss lingered, but it was overshadowed by the bitter understanding that boundaries have been crossed.

You yearned for a different reality where his girlfriend didn’t exist, but the weight of the truth remained. Accepting, you grappled that some things were beyond your control.

“Cha, c’est bien.” It’s okay. With a heartfelt effort, you mustered up the biggest smile, gently cupping his face into your hands. Despite your warm gesture, his eyes reflected a sadness, a longing for something more, a desire that he couldn’t act upon.

“Tu es mon meilleur ami.” You’re my best friend. “Nous oublierons que cela s’est produit.” We will forget that this happened.

Charles shook his head in disagreement at first, but you stopped him. You needed to shift the conversation. You were supposed to be out celebrating. “Nous devons célébrer!” We must celebrate!

You urged Charles to get dressed quickly. You needed to get out of the confines of this room.

Physically, Charles nodded with a smile, but internally, he felt nothing but pain in his heart. It’s always been you. He wanted to yell that she means nothing to him, that it’s you who means everything.

“Allons-y,” Let’s go. You grabbed his hand, leading him out of the driver’s room to kick off your night of celebration, leaving the pressing issues behind. Pretending as if nothing changed. He was your best friend. You were his best friend. Nothing changed.

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

Charles found it unbearable. The attention you were attracting was driving him to the brink of madness as he sat in the booth of the club, with his girlfriend beside him.

“C’est toujours elle,” It’s always her. She leaned over into Charles ear.

His so-called girlfriend wasn’t oblivious, like he thought. She always picked up on his gaze following you, his constant talk about you, and the fact you were consistently his top priority. Initially, she shrugged it off, given your close friendship. It only became apparent to her when she sensed that your needs started taking precedence over hers.

She couldn’t even pretend to ignore the marks on his neck.

“Quoi?” What? Charles finally glanced at her, breaking free from his trance on you. It only prompted laughter from her, evidence that his attention was solely fixed on you. He heard her though. He just didn’t want to acknowledge that he had been caught.

“You’re wasting my time,” his girlfriend muttered before standing up, grabbing her things to leave. “If you want her, tell her.” These were the final words she uttered to Charles before exiting the club, leaving him behind.

But little did she know that he had attempted to share his feelings for you numerous times. It just never worked out. The timing was always off.

#charles leclerc x reader #f1 imagines #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc angst #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc smut #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #lucky

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beskarandblasters · 18 days

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A Twisted Fantasy

Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cooper Howard Masterlist

Summary: You masturbate while thinking about your encounter with the Ghoul.

Word count: 750

Warnings: reader refers to him as the Ghoul, reader is able-bodied, Cooper might be a little OOC but fuck it we ball, masturbation, allusions to smut, pet names (sweetheart), light canon typical violence, no use of y/n

Late at night, under the cover of the trees and the night sky, you think about him– the Ghoul.

You don’t know his name. But you don’t need to. All you know is that ever since you saw him weeks ago, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about him. It’s an unfortunate chain of events. You had pissed off the wrong crowd in Filly, owing them bottle caps you most definitely didn’t have.

And for that, a bounty was placed on your head. That’s when the Ghoul came into your life. But only for a fleeting moment.

You were walking the streets after dark, already a bad idea. A hand enclosed around your wrist as you were dragged into a dark alley, followed by the barrel of a gun pressed against the back of your head.

“It’ll all be over real soon, sweetheart. Be a lot easier if you didn’t resist either.”

“Please no-” you started to beg.

“I’ll have you know.. they didn’t care if you were brought in dead or alive.”

“Sir, please. I don’t have any bottle caps. I can’t-”

He spun you around you were facing him. His appearance didn’t scare you. You had encountered Ghouls before. But he was different.

He had a voice so sultry it made you melt, knees buckling underneath you. The brim of his hat hung low, covering his eyes. You were backed up against a wall, cool metal chilling your burning skin. A weird mixture of fear for what’s come and arousal coursed through your body. His gun moved to your temple while his other hand pinned your hands above your head. Fuck.

Tears welled up on your lash line, threatening to spill over. It wasn’t long before they finally rolled down your cheeks in an unstoppable flow.

“Please, sir. I don’t have anything.”

“Nothin’?” he asked, his eyes finally meeting yours as he cocked his head to the side.

You shook your head no, crying harder at the feeling of his gun against your head.

He looked conflicted, eyes betraying the words he was saying.

“Look, sweetheart… A job’s a job.”

You cried and stuck out your lip, hoping and praying for a shred of mercy. You’re a crying, pathetic mess and maybe he’ll sense that. He sighed and cursed under his breath, looking away from you and at the ground instead.

“I suppose I could say you ran off… That I need to track you down again…”

“Really?” you asked, your face lighting up.

“Maybe but only if you do exactly as I say.”

“Anything,” you nodded as he lowered his gun.

“Run as far as you can away from here,” he said, letting go of your hands.

You waited for further instructions but he shouted, “I said run!” shooing you off. “Unless you want me to change my mind.”

“No, sir!” you squeaked, running as fast as you could out of Filly.

You were thankful he spared your life but for some reason, you couldn’t get him out of your head. You replayed every time he called you sweetheart in your mind. It didn’t help that he looked just like a fucking cowboy, accent and all.

And now here you are, fingers deep in your cunt, thinking about the Ghoul. You wish he were here right now, watching you please yourself. Or better yet… you wish he were making you feel good instead.

You imagine he’d talk you through it, praising you for being such a good girl, telling you how good you take his fingers or his cock. You think about his pleasure and how long it’s probably been since he felt any. You’d take care of that for him, making him curse under his breath like he did that one night in the alley. You’d do anything he wanted if it meant he’d call you sweetheart again.

God, how twisted is this? You’re fantasizing about a mutant who had the power to take your life right there and then. But that adds to the allure, to the fantasy. You’d pretend to be his bounty any day of the week, letting him whisper in your ear as he fills you up.

Before you know it, you cum around your fingers. Waves of pleasure rush through your body as you bite your lip to muffle your moans. The disappointment of the situation settling in now. The Ghoul’s not here and you’re alone. You roll over and sigh, silently hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll cross paths again one day.

Fic notifs: @beskarandblastersfics

Dividers: @saradika-graphics

Part two

#the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x you #the ghoul smut #cooper howard smut #cooper howard fanfiction #cooper howard x you #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x fem!reader #the ghoul fanfiction #fallout fanfiction #fallout

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the-slasher-files · 1 year

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I got this idea in my brain.

König getting some pussy so good he forgets to pull out. Neither party is complaining.

[CALL OF DUTY]

YOUR BEAST

KÖNIG

Oh oh oh ooooh my God I love this!! Warnings include: accidental breeding, knifeplay, mirror sex, stomach bulge, size kink, daddy kink and of course dirty talk... Hope you enjoy🔪💕

MASTERLIST

Stretched. Marked. Burning. A deep ache, almost painful, fluttered from your core reaching through your throat and bubbling up in the sound of incoherent words and wanton cries. He pushed you further into the depths of a vicious sea and allowing you to bare witness to the storm tearing through his eyes still smeared in black paint.

"K— Kön—" His name, sweet and brutal was caught in your throat with another deep thrust.

"Tell me, baby. Tell your King" You could hear the cocky rumble behind the words, sure that his mouth was curled in a smirk if only you could see. It wasn't the black hood with bleached tears that hid his face, it was the fact that König's massive hand pushed the back of your head down, forcing your face into the mattress.

Oxygen waned within your seering lungs, body covered in sweat, spit and cum. Yours and his. Both of you had lost track of what round you were on, but your brain had melted out your mouth long ago, perhaps when he placed you on the kitchen counter and finger fucked your cunt until there was a large puddle of your mess on the tile below. Or maybe it was when König first walked through the front door and pinned you against the wall, having just come off a 2 month long mission gone wrong and he was desperate for you. A caged animal with claws dripping blood and devastation running through his veins with each pump of a war-torn heart.

A garble of whimpering words tried to escape your pretty mouth only to fall flat with a dumb tongue but he heard one word "C—Can't"

König's crushing hand disappeared for a moment with a dark growl rumbling behind his ribcage allowing you to sputter and gasp from the newly found air. However, it wasn't long before his mammoth hand appeared again except the long fingers tangled with your locks, gripping strongly and pulling you back with ease. Your body now flat against his front.

"Yknow, I've never liked that word... can't," He rasped out with rough lips grazing along your naked shoulder. "...Now, Maus,"

Humming in response to the nickname for you, eyes half-lidded and foggy with a cockdrunk haze, gazed up behind you with a whimper. Konig's thick and long cock held still against your cervix, relentless and unmoving, there was no ability to wiggle within the soldier's iron grip.

"We both know you can," He sneered with mischief and wicked intentions flashing like lightning behind the intense blue eyes.

Suddenly you felt it. Cold and sharp laying flat on the tender muscles of your neck, daring your pulse to remain steady. A gasp left your kiss-bruised lips and eyes went wide in shock, any haze gone from them as you stiffened on Konig's massive frame and he felt in, a quiet groan sounded in his throat feeling your spongy walls close in around him.

"shhh Maus, do you trust me?" The beast was gently pushed aside for a moment to check in before you nodded wordlessly, "Good girl"

Body still stiff, Konig's soft praise and protectiveness calmed your overstimulated nerves. You were and always will be safe and loved by your king. He reassured you every day, even if he was on the other side of the planet.

"I want you to see something, sweet girl" His voice went dark, dripping with a heavy accent brought your thoughts to a halt, "Just watch how fucking good you take me"

Konig hissed, twisting the hand in your hair to turn your head forward to see the bedroom floor-length mirror capturing an absolutely sinful scene. The 6 foot 10 Austrian soldier's hulking body, skin tanned and scarred, muscles tense, visibly controlling his strength not to break your little body before him. He was still dressed in his beige cargo pants now dark in parts with the stains of your countless releases, they were folded down making the V on Konig's torso even more prominent, drawing your eyes to where your dripping cunt was being spilt open around him. Soft open kisses were placed from your left shoulder to your right making your eyes flutter up. Going across the thick, veiny arm hugging your ribcage like a deadly anaconda, reaching up to hold the large german military blade to your throat, his hand overwhelmingly the knife handle making it look like a toy but the cold bite against your pulse made you know it was real.

"Konig" Your voice was weak, daring to crack at the sight before you.

Intense blue eyes stared back hungrily as he raised to the full height on padded knees from behind you. Releasing your hair to drag down where you two were connected and spread your pussy open as if his cock didn't do that enough before he rumbled with a sharp thrust inside you, "Look at this tiny little cunt begging for me"

A feverish heat spread to your head as the man you knew as Konig was slowly, methodically turning into a beast, something primal and ancient clawing out desperately. The air had been stolen from you once again as Konig fell into a sharp, deep pace, angling his hips in just the right position to make you see stars.

"Konig, Konig, Kon-" You chanted, almost as if it was a ritual to an old god.

He couldn't control it any longer. The way your breasts bounced with each splitting thrust, the way your drooling pussy leaked around him and dripped on the bed, how your body looked like a tiny toy against his, holding you with ease as your eyes rolled back within your skull even though Konig watched your stomach bulge taking every thick inch of him. Dark sentences in German could be found between animalistic grunts and moans, but they didn't meet your ears beyond the lustful haze, drunk on everything that was Konig.

"C-close, D-Daddy, sooo c-close" A cry tore through your throat, body about to give out still looking at the reflection as much as you could focus.

"Give it to me... Now" He growled deep, removing the blade from your neck and pushing you forward. Massive hands pushing, grasping and bruising your hips as he lost himself, fucking your body like a fleshlight through your final gushing orgasm. "FFFFUCK"

The world went black between you both.... Breath heavy.... Body tingling.

"Fuck," He pants, "Fuck"

The beast lingers in the form of a man, hunched over his lifeless feast with damp huffs.

"M'sorry, baby... sorry, fuck" Konig knows he lost his head, it happens sometimes in the field turning into that aggressive hound breaking bones with the hands that held you. "verdammt"

Slowly he rolled to the side, wrapping his arms around you and pulling your body close as you came back to life. First, the feeling of achy muscles and blissful tingles across your skin made your eyes flutter open half-lidded, reaching out to draw Konig even closer if it were possible.

"Easy, sweet girl, easy" He coos, guilt growing within his core with thorns.

Shifting with a whimper, he was still inside you and the now soft blue eyes went wide, he had never done that before with you.

"...Need you, Konig" You meekly whispered, needing his warmth and comfort so much now with your thoroughly fucked out body.

"B-baby, okay, just-" Konig stumbled slightly over the words that wouldn't stop.

Stunned, he didn't know how to react. One side of his brain didn't want to pull out and the other side just wanted to make sure you were ok and make sure you knew what had just occurred. It was your body after all and your choice, never his even though Konig's pride and fansites overcame him.

A whine broke the train of thought that ran through his clouded mind, rolling back his hips and pulling out. Stick warmth spilled out of you involuntarily as your cunt quivered from the aftershocks and the Austrian groaned at the sight, wanting to just shove it all back in and fuck you again, but he held steady and turned your weak self towards him. Cuddling and ducking into his neck. The scent of gunpowder and his cedar aftershave stirred within your lungs like a mystical potion, always needing more of him.

Gazing under your lashes softly, you knew what happened, how could you not feel it.

A wicked smile curled on your lips as he delicately pushed the hair away from your face. His pierced brow raised as your small hand reached down to sheath himself inside you once more with a hot moan, staying there hopefully for hours now, "That's where you stay, big man"

Fuck, you were his everything

#lol the dom twist of it all to the end #my writing #HOPE YOU LIKE #könig #cod #call of duty #modern warfare #cod mwii #mwii #könig x reader #x you #x s/o #smut #fanfiction

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444rockstargf · 1 month

Text

courtesy to @kappasbbgirl

"an angel looking to get fucked hard." | jack thurlow

gods & monsters. - lana del rey

⊹₊⋆ synopsis: the deep wounds of a fight have the chance to be healed by a good choice of attire.

✮⋆˙ [tags] @faesucksass @lustkillers @angelsanarchy @mayathepsychic1999 @josibunn @livingdead-materialgirl@romanroyapoligist @oliviah-25@si1nful-symph0ny @auggiethecreator @vanlisbon@livingdead-reilly @imoonkiss @lankysimp @nom-nommmm1 @xxbl00d-cl0txx @k1ll3rh0rr0r @wildathevrt @mommymilkers0526 @greenxgloss @wild-rose-35

female!reader x jack

word count: 1.9k

contents: jack being an asshole (only for a little), teasing, unprotected p in v, cunnilingus, fingering, implied aftercare

“i can’t believe you.” your voice was shaky and broke halfway as tears began streaming down your face. “on the one day of the year that should mean something to you, you spend it getting wasted at the bar!” jack rolled his eyes, his tongue glued to the corner of his mouth. “give me a fuckin’ break, angel. if i’d known you were going to throw a hissy fit over a goddamn anniversary, i wouldn’t have even come back!”

you hastily wiped your tears with the back of your hand, spinning around and storming up the stairs. “you can be a real dick, y’know that?” his eyes flickered with the rage that he desperately tried to suppress. he bolted up the stairs behind you, pinning you to the nearest wall as he stared daggers at you. you squirmed out of his grip, looking away from his gaze. “you’re the worst guy in the world…”

he grabbed you by your wrist, using his other hand to hold your jaw as he brought his face unsettlingly close to yours. “i’m a good person, you hear me you fucking brat? and i hope you don’t expect me to just take this bullshit from you.” he shoved you away from him with more force than intended. you looked at him, your eyes glazing with hurt and anger as he turned away from you. halfway down the stairs, he spoke once more. “i’m going out. don’t wait up for me and have dinner ready by the time i get back.”

he grabbed his coat and his car keys, walking out the door without another word and slamming it shut behind him. you stood there, body trembling as your fists clenched at your sides. you didn’t think it was too much to ask him to remember something as simple as an anniversary. all you’d wanted was a card or something. even a simple kiss on the cheek would do. but you should’ve known better than expecting the bare minimum from jack thurlow. but you were going to prepare dinner for him. it was your duty after all.

after an hour of tirelessly working in the kitchen, you looked out the window and saw jack’s black car pulling into the driveway, contrasting against the vibrant sunset in the background. you quickly straightened up your apron, hiding whatever it was that you were wearing underneath as you heard him barge in through the door. “i’m home.” his voice was just over a mumble.

he peeked his head into the living room, seeing no sign of you. “in here!” your voice called from the kitchen. he muttered a few words under his breath as he trudged over to the kitchen, stopping dead in his tracks as soon as he saw you. you were on your knees, bent into the oven as you slowly pulled out a hot tray of lasagna, your apron getting in the way of the main attraction. but you’d already caught his eye just as planned.

you set the dish on the counter, grabbing a plate for him. “dinner’s ready. just like you asked.” jack seemed stunned that you’d bothered obeying his command after how he had treated you, feeling a small pang of guilt in his chest. he nodded. “thanks.” he said as he made his way to the dining table, sitting down in his usual seat.

you quickly whipped off your apron, smoothening out the short, translucent sun dress that you had put on. you walked in holding a perfectly prepared plate of lasagna, garnished with a sprig of basil. you set the plate in front of him, his eyes shooting in your direction and immediately taking him by surprise. as you handed him his fork, you purposefully fumbled it and dropped it on the ground. “oops, silly me.” you smiled sweetly, bending over to pick it up. jack’s breath instantly went heavy as your hips pressed into his arm, the thin fabric riding up your body just enough to give him a taste of what he was missing.

you could feel his eyes boring into your ass as you teasingly came back up, setting the fork on the table without even bothering to rinse it off. you were still angry, but you felt a sense of triumph as you saw the glistening drool nearly falling down his lip. he shook his head, taking a deep and shaky breath. in a much softer voice that dripped with guilt, he spoke. “l-look, angel. can we ta-” but you were already back in the kitchen, scrubbing away at all the dishes in the sink.

jack sighed deeply, his appetite vanishing in an instant. he peeked over at you, listening to the sound of you humming and feeling his gut wrench at the way your hips swayed ever so slightly. undeniable guilt was coursing through his veins at this point. while he was out, he’d concluded that he needed to apologize for never acknowledging the little things that you appreciated so much. and the fact that you still got all dolled up and cooked for him after that, it sickened him to his core.

he pushed his seat away from the table, quietly making his way over to you with his hands shoved in his pocket and his head angled downward, leaning against the kitchen doorframe and watching as you washed the dishes. even while doing the most mundane chores, you looked so divine. like an angel who’d come down to save jack from his sins. or a succubus that had come to make all his lustful fantasies come true. it was an illusion that often had him losing sleep at night.

with he deep breath, he walked up behind you and pressed his body against yours, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head in the crook of your neck. “...i’m so sorry, baby…” you could fight the smirk that tugged at your lips as his toned biceps pressed against your tits. “oh really? but i thought that you were never wrong?”

he tightened his grip around your waist, his lips kissing your neck softly. “i’m a fuckin’ idiot for being so mean to you. i didn’t mean to forget our anniversary. i-i’ve just been so stressed with work and all and…” he swallowed hard, rubbing slow circles onto your waist with his thumbs. “i’m just so goddamn sorry, baby.” you smiled, turning off the faucet and spinning around to face him.

he leered down at you, his remorseful gaze flickering with something much more explicit. the purposefully small sundress sagged on your body just a little, as if it was begging to come off. he smiled a little as he began to feel tightness in his jeans. “what if i made it up to you right here, angel? would that make you happy?” you had to stop yourself from jumping with joy. no matter how much of an alien jack seemed like sometimes, he was still a man. and men were well known for having a common weakness.

though you were aware of what he was insinuating, you fluttered your eyelashes, trailing a hand down his chest which was clothed in a dark blue sweater. “how..?” he grinned, hands trailing down to your ass as he picked you up, connecting his lips with yours in a needy kiss. you wrapped your arms around his neck, jack setting you down on the counter as a deep moan escaped from his lips and entered yours.

his hands immediately traveled to the thin string that held the sundress together. “i’ve been wanting to take this thing off all night…” he looked up at you, his frosty eyes seeming to be begging for permission. when you nodded, he frantically undid the neat bow, tossing it to the side and wasting no time taking off the dress.

his eyes darted to your tits first, his pants growing tighter by the second. he cupped your breasts, taking one of your erect buds into his mouth and swirling circles on it with his tongue as he kneaded the other one between his fingers. you bit your lip and whimpered softly as he stimulated you.

through his jeans, you felt his cock mimicking the patterns of a heartbeat. here he was, pleasuring you before even thinking of himself. you reached your hands to his belt, unbuckling it and letting the metal clang to the ground. his pants slipped down his knees with ease, his cock springing up and slapping him on the stomach.

he pulled away from your nipples, smiling drunkenly at you. “you see how hard you get me, baby..?” your eyes widened with amusement as it began to drip with precum just from the sight of you. he gave himself a few lazy strokes, desperate groans making his chest rise and fall. jack lined his rod up with your cunt, his arm wrapped around your waist as he held you close.

he slowly slipped himself into your walls and you tightened your grip around him, your teeth digging into his shoulder blade. he rubbed your clit to help it go in smoother. “i’ve got you, baby. is it okay if i go rough with you today?” you nodded, already feeling so full just by him being inside of you.

his hands moved to your hips and he began bucking himself into you, lips parted as needy sounds emerged from them. he pulled your legs onto his shoulders, the cool air of the kitchen covering your body as he immediately hit you in the core. then he went for it.

with his hands gripping your hips tightly, his balls slapped against the base of your pussy. his forehead pressed against yours his hot breath synching with yours. your gummy walls were practically crushing his holes. no matter how many times he’d fucked you, you were still tight as a virgin.

you rolled your hips against him, tossing your head back as his cock twitched inside of you. he was going at lightning speed, the slight curve of his dick hitting you in the perfect spot each time. “o-oh god… r-right there, jack…” his brows were furrowed with whatever emotion he felt right now. “i got you…” his arms were wrapped tightly around you as the sounds of your moans, whimpers, and skin slapping together echoed through the polished walls of the kitchen.

jack bit the inside of his mouth to prevent anything from coming out. “y-you… you have no idea how much i’ve missed this, angel. ‘ts been too long… too goddamn long…” your hands tangled themselves in his thick hair as he abused your guts, you climaxes nearing at a rapid pace.

you could feel his cock swelling inside of you as he desperately tried to keep himself from cumming, but the lack of sexual activity left his stamina lower than usual. his knees buckled as his balls tightened up, making way for the flood of cum that cascaded through his cannon. he quickly whipped himself out of you, dropping to his knees and shoving two fingers into your throbbing pussy as his tongue swirled circles onto your clit. with a few contractions of your limbs, a thick, white waterfall poured out of you, trailing down his chin all the way down to his neck.

he licked you completely dry, his tongue meeting every fold and cleaning up every inch of your sweet cunt. he rose back up to his feet, kissing you on the forehead and picking you up again. “how’s that for an anniversary gift, huh?” you laughed softly. “i think you’re getting the hang of it now.” he beamed with joy, tucking his cock back into his pants. “how about we wrap up this fine evening with a nice, warm bath?” you wrapped your arms around your neck, you naked body embracing his in a tight hug. ”lead the way, jack.”

author's note: this was too much fun to write!!

#444rockstargf #rory culkin #rory culkin smut #smut #jack goes home #jack thurlow #jack thurlow smut #jack goes home smut #jack thurlow x reader #lana del rey

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bloatedandalone04 · 8 months

Text

Crash Course - Part 2

Series Masterlist

➪the one where you and hayden are officially together, on and off the track.

PSA: strongly suggested to read the warnings before proceeding.

WC; 5.6k | Part 1 | Do not repost this anywhere, reblogs are fine ♡

Seven months since your massive failure in front of hundreds of people, and seven months since you met Hayden.

You wished you could bring yourself to be embarrassed about the whole event, but it was the result of a deal you made with him, and it ended with you and him being wrapped around each other’s fingers.

Tonight was supposed to be packed as well, and the drivers were encouraged to head out onto the track a bit earlier than normal, but that still didn’t stop Hayden from taking you by the hand and dragging you into one of the empty concession stands for a quickie.

That’s where you are now, pressed up against the wall next to an out of order vending machine. Hayden kept your body pinned to the wall with his own, his hips rocking into yours at a pace that had your head spinning, and the two of you were still fully clothed.

You should have seen this coming, really.

Since you were in a serious relationship and had even moved in together a few months back, you drove to the track together to save some money on gas. And so you didn’t have to spend time away from one another.

Seven months in and you were still so obsessed with each other, it was like a never ending honeymoon phase.

You teased him during the whole ride here, so he needed to get out his sexual frustrations before he went on the track for the rest of the night, and luckily you were more than willing to help him out.

“Fuck,” he muttered against the skin of your neck, your jacket had long since been removed for the sole purpose of him wanting to mark you up before the race. Hayden had already left countless hickeys on your shoulders and neck, all of which would be covered by your jumpsuit later, so there wasn’t a need to make a fuss about the way he was tainting your skin with his mouth.

Your hands thread through his hair as he fucked into you, lifting his head so you could press your lips to his. “Oh, fuck, you’re so good,” you praise quietly, not wanting to alert any potential wanderers who entered the venue just outside the stand. “So good.”

Hayden groaned loudly, seemingly unbothered at the very real fact that you and he could get caught doing this by one of the many workers, crew members, or fans that had shown up. “So tight,” he commented, dipping his head down so he could watch the way his slick covered dick fucked in and out of you. “No matter how many times I fuck you, you’re still so tight.”

His words turn you on even more and you tip your head back further, the action making the sales poster that was pinned to the wall behind you crumple a bit. “God,” you whimper, tugging at the hairs on the back of his neck that were peeking out from his snapback that had the track’s logo etched onto it. “Hayden.”

He grunted, his fingers digging into the underside of your thighs as he hikes you up further, making your free hand shoot out to grip the wall. A couple of posters that had the menu for the stand on them were ripped from their tacks and fell to the floor when you steadied yourself, your legs locking even tighter around his waist. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he praised. “You’re so perfect.”

“Harder,” you quietly beg, moving your hand from the wall and knocking the hat off his head. While you absolutely loved the way he looked when he wore the hat backwards, you loved the feeling of his hair between your fingers even more. “Please, Hayden, give it to me harder.”

Hayden lifted his head so he could meet your lust filled gaze, and he knew his eyes held the same look in them. “You want me to fuck you hard, pretty girl?” He asked, tightening his hold on you as he pressed his hips to yours, making him go as deep as he possibly could.

The small box he had in his pocket poked him, and he could only hope that you wouldn’t call him out on what it was. You would find out later tonight.

He stilled his thrusts and locked his jaw at the way you throbbed and pulsated around him, your walls desperate for him to keep fucking into you. “Want it rough? Like this?”

When he gives a single sharp thrust, you cry out and grip his hair tighter, feeling the way your body shook with need. “Yes, fuck, yes. Just like that,” you moan loudly when he resumes the movements of his hips, going at the same pace as before but much harder, like you begged him to do. “God, you’re so deep. I love you so much, Hayden, fuck.”

He grinned at you, pressing his lips to yours as he rocked into you. “I love you,” he said in between noisy kisses. “My hot, needy girl.”

What a hypocrite. He was the one who couldn’t keep his hands to himself. He was the one who pulled you into the out of order concession stand as soon as you arrived at the tracks. But it was no secret that his hypocrisy was what started your relationship, with him going on about how much you wanted him, when in reality, he wanted you just as much. Maybe even more.

“We have to be on the track soon,” you weakly remind him as blackspots begin to cloud your vision. With Hayden, it was never just a quick fuck. The word didn’t exist in his vocabulary. If he was taking you, he was taking you at his own pace and he didn’t care who had to wait on him.

There was, however, one way to get him closer a bit faster when you were in a rush. You discovered that Hayden was a sucker for hearing you beg for him to knock you up. You were on the pill and definitely not ready for kids yet, and you weren’t trying for them, but he was obsessed with the idea of you carrying his baby.

Despite only being together for less than a year, you had talked about it, briefly. You both decided that you weren’t going to try for kids until you reached your late twenties, right around the four year relationship mark.

“Yeah?” He teasingly asked, making no effort to pick up the pace. “Well, I guess they’ll just have to wait. There’s no way they would start without their two best drivers.”

“Hayden,” you purr, sucking on the skin below his ear. “I want you to make me come, then I want you to come in me.”

He groaned and tipped his head back, bracing himself with one hand flat against the wall beside you. The sight of his physical strength, and the fact that he was able to easily hold you up with only one hand, had you repressing a cry of his name. “Fuck,” he muttered, his hips stuttering when he felt you clench around him, your walls sucking him in deeper. “You want me to make you come, huh, baby? All over me?”

You nodded, biting your lip when you heard the sounds of footsteps right outside the door of the small room you were in. “Yes,” you answer in a whisper. “I want it so bad, Hayden. Please.”

He moaned at the sound of you begging for him to make you come, your words only fueling his desire for you. “I want it, too, princess,” he rasped, pressing you impossibly closer to the wall. “I want to feel you, all over me. I want it everywhere, make it messy.”

You cry out as you come, clamping down tightly around him as you squeezed your eyes shut. You pull him towards you with a hand placed on the back of his head, and he nuzzles his face against your neck.

As he continued to fuck into you, the sounds of your wet walls still taking him was all that could be heard, mixed with your whimpers and his grunts. You couldn’t even bring yourself to be embarrassed about it, and Hayden had never let you feel embarrassed about it, as he loved how worked up he got you everytime.

“You hear that, baby?” He asked, grinning at the way your core noisily took him in. “Hear how fucking needy I made you? How good I made you feel?”

You nodded, whimpering softly when his hips began to slow, indicating that he was close, too. “Please, Hayden,” you beg quietly, your hands moving to gently run up his back. “I want you to come for me. Let me feel you, right in here.”

You press your palm to your lower stomach, feeling the movement of him inside you pushing back against your hand. His jaw went slack as he looked down at your abdomen, seeing the faintest outline of himself deep within you. “Baby,” he choked out, speeding up just slightly and taking in the quiet whine you let out due to your sensitivity. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come.”

“Please,” you encourage him, clenching hard around him to coax out his release. “I want you to, need to feel it.”

Hayden lets out a throaty groan as his hips meet yours for the final time before he is spilling into you. Heavy pants leave his mouth as he slowly pulls out before pushing back in, making sure his come reached the deepest part of you.

He looked up at you with hooded eyes, a tired grin on his lips. “We just got here and I’m already exhausted,”

You laugh, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Don’t wear yourself out too much,” you say, smoothing out his messy hair. “You need to focus on not crashing tonight.”

“Says you,” he teased, keeping himself buried in you as he peppered your lips with kisses. “You’re the one who crashed the night I met you.”

Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around his shoulders and pull him into an embrace. “But look where that got me in the end,”

Hayden grinned against your neck, lifting his head to place a lingering kiss to your mouth. “Where you belong,” he murmured. “With me. I love you.”

“I love you,”

Before any further words could be shared between you, the voice of the announcer came through the speaker. “Drivers numbers five and thirty four, please report to the maintenance garage for the team meeting,”

You laughed against his mouth, the faintest hint of a blush spreading across your face as Hayden finally set you down, a lazy grin on his own lips as he bent down to retrieve his hat from off the floor.

After the standard team meeting you had to do before going onto the track, Hayden kept his hand on your lower back as he guided you towards your car, his other holding onto his neon helmet. His own car was further down the line as he would be starting closer to the middle, while you’ll be starting on the outside of the first row.

Walking you to your car before every race had become a natural routine for Hayden. It allowed him to see you one last time before he was on the track, and also gave him the opportunity to trash talk you a bit just for fun.

He leaned against the side of your car as you pulled back the netting, watching as you lifted yourself up and slid in through the window. “Don’t crash,” he says as he leans down to level his head with yours. “Everyone knows how good you are at doing that. Show them something different for once.”

Even though you hadn’t had a serious crash since the one you were in on the night you met him, he still loved to tease you about it, despite him knowing just how good of a driver you actually are. “Haha,” you reply in a flat tone. “Funny you say that since you’ve spent every Saturday training with me since we met.”

He just shakes his head, grabbing your red helmet from off the top of your car. “Good luck, princess,” he said with a smile, handing it to you through the window.

“Good luck,” you say back, moving to kiss him quickly when he dipped his head further down. He fixes the netting on the window frame before heading towards his own car, his nerves rising as he hears the loud cheers of the fans.

Though he was good at hiding it, he still got nervous before every race, but his adrenaline usually overpowered it. Ever since he met you, he had become even more nervous about racing. Not only did he have himself to worry about on the track, but he now had you to worry about as well.

Sure, you were a great driver and hadn’t spun out in months, he still worried that the other drivers would grow sick of always being behind you and do something to get the advantage. While you never cared to get to know the other drivers, Hayden took the time to speak to a few of them, and the ones he spoke to were aggressive both on and off the track.

That was to be expected, though, as most racers only did this to let out some steam and frustration, while Hayden and you did it for fun.

The stands were packed, he noticed, when he was finally told he could pull out onto the track. There were only three races left of the season before the track closed for the winter, so it wasn’t too surprising to see that there were no empty spaces on the bleachers.

These last few races were well-anticipated, and they counted the most out of all of them because it would be the last time the drivers got to do this until the beginning of next summer.

The first race went well, with Hayden finishing in first and you in third, and the second one went even better, with Hayden in first again and you in second. The finale was next, and they would be pulling the best drivers from the first and second heats. Of course, you were both picked.

As the season went on, the races became more intense. For this final race, it would consist of twenty laps and eighteen cars in total, both from the bone stocks and the late models. It was a little nerve wracking, especially since Hayden was put in the fourth row from the front on the inside, and he didn’t know where you were.

You had to be somewhere behind him, but not knowing just how far was making him feel uneasy. He always liked having you in his sights, so to not know where you were was not calming his racing heart.

He had never been involved in this big of a race before. The most he’s ever taken part in is fourteen cars and that’s it. He knew this was new for you, as well, and he knew you had to be just as anxious as he was.

After following the pace truck for a few laps, the driver pulled off into the infield and the race began.

It was intense at first, but Hayden regained his control and was able to secure a spot in second place. As he kept up a steady pace, he did his best to glance behind him in hopes to catch a glimpse of you. It was hard to do, seeing as he had a helmet on, a net over the window, and had to make sure he didn’t go off the track, but he couldn’t help it.

He glanced back a few times and didn’t see you, making him a bit worried that you had been placed too far behind to be able to catch up in time. It was so like them to put the good drivers further back to give the less experienced drivers a fair chance. Hayden himself once had to go from last place to first in a twenty lap race, and it was a tough thing to do.

As he went around one of the turns, he finally caught sight of your red and white Ford, and he felt like he could relax a bit now and focus on his driving. You were a few cars behind him, and as he passed the speakers, he heard the announcer say that you had gone from thirteenth to fifth.

He also heard him say the name of the driver behind him, Ian Mackey.

Hayden had never heard of the guy before, so he was left to come to the conclusion that Ian was from the late model heat. He was proven right when he looked back and saw the kind of car this guy was driving.

He also noticed just how aggressive he was. Ian was pretty much tailgating Hayden, which was a bit unnecessary at this point because they were reaching the twelfth lap now, and most of the cars were decently spread out on the track.

As he sped up a bit, Hayden was once again beginning to feel nervous about the fact that you were back there with this aggressive guy.

Surprisingly enough, Ian did nothing to stop you as you passed him and drove behind Hayden. It should’ve made an alarm go off in your head, but you weren’t aware of how he was driving before you passed him.

It was somewhat calm for the next few laps, until you reached the seventeenth. While you were going around the corner, Ian, instead of trailing behind you like he had been doing for the past few minutes now, drove straight in an attempt to cut you off.

There was a reason no one ever attempted to pass when turning, and this was exactly why.

The front of his car hit the back of yours hard and the sudden impact had you powerless to do anything as you tried to correct, but the damage had been done. You knew better than to slam on the brakes, but before you could even do that, you were upside down and felt every hit of your body against the interior of the car.

Your head was pounding and your vision was blurry, but you were granted the gift of feeling nothing at all when your car slammed into the barriers, rightside up, but badly damaged. Your body went numb and your head was spinning before you let it fall back against the seat, your eyes falling shut as you listened to the sound of cars speeding past you fade out.

Hayden, who had heard the whole thing but hadn’t seen it, felt his heart drop when he caught sight of the smoke and dust that formed behind him. He wasn’t sure who exactly had been hit, but when he went around the other corner and saw that it was you, he felt his blood run cold.

He barely pulled off to the side before he was ripping the netting off the frame and tossing his helmet somewhere in his car. He pulled himself out through the window and sprinted across the track, his ears ringing as the other drivers had to swerve to avoid hitting him.

The red flag was held up and the other cars slowed to a stop on various parts of the track when he finally reached you. A couple of men from the clean up crew were already there and had pulled the netting off the window. He could briefly hear them trying to talk to you, but you weren’t responding.

“Get her out,” Hayden yelled at them as he watched one of the guys reach into your car to unclip the seatbelt. “Get her out of there, now!”

“Calm down, Christensen,” another guy said, stepping back when Hayden pushed away the comforting hand he tried to place on his shoulder. “We can’t pull her out until the paramedics get over here.”

Hayden shook his head and ran his hand through his slightly damp hair, but that was when he caught sight of Ian, whose car was a few metres behind yours and had undoubtedly caused the whole thing. “You motherfuck-” Hayden was pulled back once the crew guy caught onto the fact that he was on his way over to Ian. The man, whose name tag read Nick, grabbed Hayden’s shoulders and hauled him away from Ian, who almost looked proud at what he caused.

“Cut it out, Hayden,” Nick tried to say, but he wasn’t having it.

“You fucking asshole,” Hayden yelled while Nick guided him further away. “You fucking-” he cut himself off and held onto Nick’s arms when he felt his knees almost give out as he watched the paramedics lift you out of your totaled car.

You still had your helmet on, but your hands were bruised and had spots of blood all over them, and your eyes were closed. They set you gently down on the ground as the other paramedics worked on getting the stretcher out, and Hayden finally found his footing as he ran the few steps over to you.

He fell to his knees, surely ripping a hole or two into his jumpsuit, and grabbed your left hand in his. “Y/n,” he said desperately, heating up at the many eyes on him, and from the bright spotlights that had been turned on since it was nearing ten at night. He tuned out the voices of the fans and the flashing lights of the tow trucks around him as he tried to get you to open your eyes. “Baby.”

He could see from the visor part of your helmet that your face was a bit bloody, but nothing could’ve prepared him for when they slowly removed the helmet from your head.

Your lower lip was busted and it was clear that your teeth had gone through it, probably on impact, and your nose was shedding a steady stream of blood. There were a few scrapes scattered all over your face, all of which were also bleeding, and he could barely see your actual skin tone through all of the redness.

He shared a look with the paramedic, who looked beyond concerned at your current state, and that did not help Hayden stay any calmer as he gripped your hand even tighter. “Y/n,” he called out to you again, his heart going into overdrive when you still didn’t answer him. “Talk to me, baby, please.” He begged but to no avail.

He stood up when a neck brace was placed around you and watched as they lifted you onto the stretcher. They took you into the back of the ambulance, and Hayden took the time to observe the state of your car. The back end was caved in from the impact of Ian’s car, and there were several large dents that pretty much told everyone that there was no fixing it.

There was a big dent on the driver’s side door, and despite the multiple layers of steel that were built in to prevent it from harming the driver, all the layers were pushed into the car, meaning you had most likely been impaled by the sharp metal.

“Oh, fuck,” he heard the paramedic say, making Hayden turn to look over at him as they stood over your body. Your jumpsuit was unzipped and pulled down to bunch around your waist, and the white tee you were wearing underneath was stained red. “We need to get her to the hospital.”

His eyes widened at that and when the man gestured for Hayden to get into the ambulance with them, he never moved so quickly in his life as he hauled himself up and sat next to you.

He completely abandoned the rest of the race to go with you to the hospital, but he was sure it would have gotten cancelled, anyway, due to the extreme damage that had been done.

Hayden took your left hand in both of his once again as they hooked up your right arm to an IV, his eyes flickering all over your face.

His heart was beating a million miles a minute as he watched the slow rise and fall of your chest. “Stay with me,” he pleaded quietly, afraid to touch you anywhere other than your hand right now.

He tore his eyes away from your face when they pulled your shirt up and exposed the puncture wound on your ribcage. That had to have been from the metal of the door, and he was sure if he looked hard enough, he would have seen blood in both your car and on the padding of your helmet.

“How much further?” He asked, his voice breaking as he tried to keep his tears at bay.

“Less than ten minutes,” the man answered, but that was too long.

You needed help, now, but what could he do?

Nothing.

He just held your hand up to his mouth, not caring that your blood now coated his lips due to the shaky kiss he pressed to your skin.

You were met with bland walls and a dull ache in your head when you opened your eyes. The lights in the room were dimmed, but it still caused the dull ache to progress into what felt like a migraine.

When you lifted your hand, you noticed the pulse oximeter that was clipped onto your index finger. You try to sit up, but immediately stop when you feel a pain shoot through your body.

Your torso was itchy and it felt like there was a bandage wrapped around your ribs, but you didn’t bother trying to scratch at it, too scared to feel that sudden jolt of pain again.

Your face was sore, too, and you could see the red scrapes on your cheeks through your reflection in the window next to the bed. It was dark out, so it must be somewhere between twelve and four AM, but that was about all you could guess.

As you settle back down, you look to your left and that is when you finally notice Hayden. He was sitting on a chair next to the bed you were on, still covered by his racing jumpsuit, and his head was next to your thigh. Even though he was sleeping, he still looked distressed, and you reached your hand up to run your fingers through his hair.

It was also then when you noticed the diamond ring that had recently been placed on your finger. You gasp quietly, lifting your hand again to get a better look at it. “Hayden,” you rasped, but it was loud enough to wake him up.

He sat up and met your eye, and you could see the relief that flooded through him, before his gaze settled on your hand. “This isn’t how I wanted to ask you,” he trailed off, taking your hand in his. His fingers were stained with a bit of dried blood, and you could only assume it was yours. “I wanted to ask you after the race, but here we are.”

Your eyes stung as you tried to take in everything. “What happened?”

Hayden pressed a kiss to the back of your hand before hesitantly answering you, “There was an accident,” he began, meeting your eye again and you noticed the tears that gathered along his waterline. “It was a pretty serious crash. You were hit hard and I guess your car flipped a couple times before it slammed into the barrier.”

You tried to think back to that, but could only remember bits and pieces. When you really thought about it, you could briefly remember feeling the impact of Ian’s car, and the way your body hit every metal bar that was inside your own car, but nothing else after that.

“Before you ask, it’s totaled,” Hayden said and you felt your heart deflate at that. “But that is the last thing that should be on your mind.”

He broke eye contact and stared down at your joined fingers, his lip quivering in a way that told you he was barely holding on right now. “Hayden,” you murmur, moving your right hand to grab his free one. “It’s okay.”

But he just shook his head, the movement making a tear fall from his eye. “It’s not,” he muttered. “You have no idea about all the things that were running through my head when I saw you get pulled out of your car. Your eyes were closed and you were bleeding pretty much all over-” he cut himself off when he felt his throat begin to tighten.

Your eyes burn as you hold back your own tears, holding his hand as tightly as you could. When you went to bite down on your lip to stifle your cry, you wince when you taste the unmistakable bitterness of blood. Running your tongue over your lip, you felt how swollen it was, and you were sure you looked like a train wreck. “Hayden,” you tried again, but you were at a loss for words. “I…fuck.”

He continues to relive the nightmare of seeing you covered in your own blood and unresponsive as you lie on the track. “I was so fucking scared,” he confessed. “All the jokes I made before about you crashing suddenly felt so…real. They weren’t jokes anymore. I tried getting you to talk to me, but you weren’t awake, you weren’t answering me. I have never felt that terrified on a track before in my entire life.”

Tears fell from his eyes and that was all it took for your own to spill over. “Come here,” you requested quietly, gesturing for him to get onto the bed with you.

He just shook his head, not wanting to move you in any way until you were given the okay by the doctor. “No, princess, I could hurt you, I-”

“Hayden, come here,” you cut him off, trying to pull him up from the chair, but that was a lost cause. “Please. I need you.”

And unsurprisingly, Hayden was quick to give in to you. He stood from the chair and moved so he was sitting next to you on the bed, but you took it a step further by pulling him back so he was propped against the pillow. You moved so you were laying half on his chest and half on the bed, ignoring the dull pain in your ribcage.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you mumbled, bunching up the fabric of his jumpsuit in your fist. “I hate that I put you through that, but I’m okay. Everything is going to be okay.”

Hayden nodded and gently wrapped his arm around your shoulders, wanting to say a lot more but also knowing you needed to rest. There would be time to talk later. “I need to let the doctor know that you’re awake,” he says after a few minutes.

You hum, eyeing the ring on your finger before you grin, the pull on your lip making you repress a grunt of pain. “In a minute,” you say, lifting your head so you were looking up at him. “I think you have something to ask me, first.”

When you wiggle your finger at him, Hayden’s conflicted expression drops and he pulls you closer to him. “You’re right,” he turned the ring on your finger a few times before pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I love you, pretty girl. I have since the moment I met you. I know this is probably the least romantic proposal anyone has ever done, but I can’t wait any longer.”

Hayden really hated the fact that he was asking you to marry him while you were confined to a hospital bed. He was sure you expected a much bigger and better gesture than this, one where you were wearing a fancy dress instead of an unflattering gown that he still thinks you look hot in - especially since he could see the faint hickeys he left on you earlier peeking out from the collar of the gown.

You smile up at him, urging him to continue when he pauses for a few seconds.

“Y/n,” he says quietly, turning the ring one more so the diamond reflects off the dim light above the bed. “I want to spend the rest of my life by your side and doing the thing we both love. The thing that brought us together. Well, once we fix you up a new car. I’m sorry, but yours is fucked.”

You laugh and sit up a bit. “You’re still okay with me racing after this?”

Hayden shrugs. “I can’t tell you to give up on doing what you love, even if the thought of this happening again terrifies me,” he mutters under his breath. “We’ll do it together, just like how we’ve done it the last seven months. Now, before I forget to ask, will you marry me?”

Grinning, you lean up and press your sore lips to his. “You really didn’t need to ask,” you tease, resting your head back on his chest. “Waking up with an engagement ring on my finger was more than enough.”

“Seriously?” He groans, leaning down to rest his chin on the top of your head. “You’re such a tease, you know that?”

“I know,” you say in response, closing your eyes when you feel him press a kiss to your temple.

While you still weren’t sure of how serious your injuries are, you knew you’d be just fine. Hayden seemed more than willing to help nurse you back to health and even help you get back on the track when you were ready for it.

You couldn’t ask for a better person to spend your life with.

#hayden christensen #hayden christensen gif #hayden christensen icons #hayden christensen edit #hayden christensen imagine #hayden christensen smut #sw anakin #anakin star wars #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker headcanons #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker smut #anakin smut #ride with me series

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lilacskyly · 2 months

Text

A God and His Saint (Satoru Gojo x Reader NSFW)

Warnings: NSFW (obviously), 18+ ONLY, MDNI,

Context kind of: This is just part of my OC x Gojo Fic I'm working on, so apologies if it doesn't make full sense. I don't write smut very often so yeah,,,, also my oc before this scene almost got killed so, there's something.

When you both sat down, Gojo instantly pulled you close to him. “G-gojo!! L-let go!!” you exclaimed, giggling a bit. He shook his head before holding you even tighter.

“In the morning, remind me to get a tracking curse on that bell,” he muttered.

“On it, boss.” you giggled. Gojo parted from you, still holding on to you. His hands slid down to your waist as he stared into your eyes. He gave you a soft smile, hints of blush stained his cheeks. Moonlight shone through the curtains, reflecting off his hair ever so beautifully. You had to admit, he looked gorgeous. And the way he’s looking at you right now. You swear your heart is going to shoot out of your chest.

“... hey.. Look at me.” Gojo whispered. He brought one of his hands up and placed a finger under your chin, bringing your gaze up to meet his. “... gods…” he muttered, looking at you with longing you couldn’t explain. He seemed to be lost in thought for a moment as you two stared at each other in a peaceful silence. You didn’t notice but he was leaning closer ever so slightly by the second. Soon enough, your noses brushed against each other. W-why does he keep glancing down?? You felt his warm breath on you before he shut his eyes.

“S-sator—?” Before you could finish saying his name, Gojo placed his lips on yours.

Before you could process what was happening, his lips left yours with a tiny peck as a goodbye. Your brain was spinning. He… he just… “... don’t scare me like that again… ‘k?” he whispered, looking at you with almost pleading eyes.

“S-satoru… I-I…”

“... you don’t need to reciprocate… I just… felt I needed to…” he added on, looking away shyly.

“... c-can you.. Do it again?” you asked, avoiding his gaze. “Y-you don’t need to or anything! It’s ju–” you quickly tried to add on before Satoru’s lips brushed against yours once more. This time, you wasted no time in reciprocating. You closed your eyes before throwing your arms around Satoru’s neck. You gently kissed him back, afraid that what was happening might go away in an instant if you were too rough. You felt him smirk against the kiss as he pushed himself closer against you. You could feel his heartbeat about to break out of his shirt as your fingers found their way through his powdered locks. Satoru parted from you, his face flushed. You whined a bit before realizing he was laughing softly.

“Do you really want me that bad?” he teased, eyes widening when you nodded without hesitation. His expression softened tenfold as he brought a hand up to caress your cheek. “... let me indulge you then.” he whispered before his lips crashed into yours. This time, the kiss wasn’t gentle, it was hurried, panicked, desperate. It’s as if Satoru was waiting his whole life to do just this. You found it surprisingly easy to match his intensity as you kissed him back, pulling his head closer. Your mind hazed over as you felt his tongue play with the entrance to your lips. You smiled, not granting him access. Satoru took this as a challenge, one that he knew he’d easily win as soon as he bit your lower lip. It was a gentle bite, unlike the passionate kiss, he was testing you. You caved, it wasn’t long till he slid his tongue into your mouth, exploring every part he could find. With each kiss and taste, he became more and more addicted to you. You don’t know how it happened, but you found yourself pinned against the wall outside his bedroom. Satoru kissed you softly before moving down your jaw and to your neck, placing soft kisses as he searched for your most sensitive spot.

“S-sa..satoru…” you let out, mind fogged over to care that it sounded like a moan. He wasted no time in biting down on your neck, of course he found the good spot his first try. It was in times like these where you forgot about his abilities, his six eyes certainly where finding every place he could further please you. You let out a soft moan when he began sucking on the spot he had just bitten. Gods, he wasn’t letting up. You were sure it would leave a mark, part of you hoped it would last for a good week or so. You felt your cursed technique activate without you thinking, a chain was formed around both of your wrists. Except, this time, it was different. It’s like you could feel what he was feeling. Not just his pain, but his thoughts, his emotions, his sheer bliss at the situation you both found yourselves in. You felt like you were one with him. Gojo peered up at you as you drooled. He smirked, his eyes showing an infinite sea you just wanted to dive in. “S-satoru.. C-can we…?” you begged. You could practically feel his excitement at you asking that.

“Please.”

That’s how you found yourself on Satoru’s bed, him towering over you as he slowly began removing your clothes. First was your shirt, then your pants. He paused to look at you, his eyes twinkling. “... you’re so beautiful…” he muttered as his fingers traced up and down your inner thighs. “My pretty little girl~” he cooed. He trailed kisses along your thighs, causing you to squirm. He left soft nibbles every now and then before you felt his hot breath on your clothed clit. “... i wonder if you taste as sweet as you sound..?” he seemed to think aloud as he moved your panties aside and slid a finger in. Your hands instantly shot up to your mouth to cover up the noises that were hopelessly emanating from you. Gojo, having noticed this, lifted himself to look at you. “Now my sweet, is that really fair?” he asked, plunging another finger into you. You swear you felt tears well up in your eyes. He leaned towards your ear, whispering sweetly into it. “I want to hear you… please, say my name.” he mewed, curling his fingers inside you, making you shiver.

“G-go…gojo–” you moaned before his lips brushed against yours, a small way to silence you.

“No more ‘Gojo’ my sweet… call me Satoru from now on..” You nodded vigorously as Gojo took your hands off your face.

“S-satoru~”

“Good girl~ Now, again.” he commanded as he slid yet another finger in you.

“S-sa-satoru!! P-please… I..” you panted.

He took his fingers out before licking them clean and moaning. “Gods… you taste divine..” He licked around your clit, making sure to get every last drop before towering over you once more. “To think… you came just to me….” he muttered. You felt something hard grind against your leg as he began kissing you once more. Your fingers found their way down to his pants, trying hopelessly to pull them off. Gojo giggled at your pathetic attempts. “Does my girl want these pesky things off?” he asked with a smug tone.

“P-please… Sa-satoru!!” you pleaded.

He placed a small kiss on your lips, “Just for you my dear saint…”

His pants and underwear were easily thrown aside as he positioned himself over you once more. You studied his form. Despite all the fights he’s been in, there wasn’t a scar on his perfectly toned body. Each aspect of his body seemed to compliment another. You were in the presence of someone divine, a god that came to this earth just for you. You looked down at his cock which twitched with anticipation. He noticed your gaze before clicking his tongue. “My eyes aren’t there my sweet… c’mon, look at me… and just me.” You obeyed him which made him smile. “Good girl~ Now, bite down when it hurts okay?” he said, bringing his neck close enough to where you could bite it as he slowly entered you. His body shook with each inch he pushed inside. You bit down on his neck, trying your best not to hurt him. “F-fuck… baby yo-you could give me s-some slack ya know?” he laughed. “Y-you’re.. So tight…”

“What can I say… I’m just good.” you managed to say as he settled in.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m making you cum again.”

“Wait huh–!?” you gasped just as he began thrusting within you. He bit his lip in a vain attempt to silence himself. But as soon as your arms wrapped around his torso, pulling him even closer, he couldn’t help but let out a breathy moan. You felt your pussy clench around his dick, making him shake even more. You began to dig your nails into his back, desperately clinging to him as you closed your eyes.

When you opened them, you no longer saw his bedroom. Instead, in its place was a void, the only light was emanating from you both. Your focus snapped back to Gojo as he panted, his eyes crazed. “F-fuck… ba-baby.. I-I’m–”

“P-please…” you begged, pulling him into you even more. Gojo nodded before thrusting even harder in you. Finally, you felt something warm rush through you as he gasped for air, his body still shuddering. You looked up just in time to see a burst of light shoot through the entire void. You closed your eyes to shield them from the brilliant luminance.

“B-baby…” Gojo moaned as he collapsed onto you, bringing you into a tight hug. You hugged him back as he thanked you endlessly. The void once devoid of life now found itself with a galaxy in its place.

#gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #fanfic #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #gojo satoru x oc #jjk smut #gojo satoru x you #i feel like a dirty dirty sinner even tho this isn't even that bad

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ah-bright-wings · 2 months

Text

Sound - A Triduum Story

Malchus can feel the heavy gazes of the others. He ignores them. His own eyes are pinned to the door they guard, listening to the drip of water condensing and dropping onto the floor. There is no rain, but the air is damp, as if the heavens are drawing out the wet stores of the earth in preparation for a storm.

Customarily, the chill would make him wish for his bed. He’d grumble with his fellows about the weather, about the work, peppering complaints with a few stout curses. But there is no discussion tonight. Malchus sits hunched forward, forearms braced on his thighs, and he waits.

What are they waiting for?

Cold fingers touch the lobe of his left ear. He turns to see Jesse, who’d touched him, withdrawing, fingers curling into his palm. The apology is gruff. “Just wanted to see.”

That’s a lie, thinks Malchus, turning back to the door. They’ve already seen tonight. What’s left is to believe.

Malchus doesn’t ask permission before he rises, taking the flask which hangs on a wall hook, and the keys there beside it. The eyes of the others follow. He unlocks the door and slips in, shutting it behind, and then pauses, palm flat on the wood. He takes a breath.

Drip.

The Nazarene’s hands are chained so that he must stand. His head bows, forehead resting against the bruised back of his right hand. He lifts himself when Malchus enters. His lips, which had been moving silently, still.

Malchus holds out the flask. Then, as an embarrassing afterthought—the man is in chains—he uncorks it.

“It’s just water,” he assures when the man doesn’t move to drink. He tips the flask close enough to meet the cracked lips. The Nazarene swallows twice and then pulls back, chains jingling. His face is wet. Tears, Malchus thinks, until he hears the drip of water dropping onto the man’s head. It slides down his temple and dirty cheek, carving a clean track through the crust. Malchus re-corks the flask.

It’s not quite fear that he feels. He had felt fear on his knees in Gethsemane, blood down his neck and a howl on his tongue. The world was silent, then, and shrieking, dizzy with pain and the terror of new loss. When strong hands cupped his face, he clung to them. He grabbed hold of words he could not hear but lips he could see moving, breath he could feel on his face, brown eyes he could see.

And then, he could hear.

It was as if he’d never before heard sound, not true sound, but only echos, half-formed, half-heard, until that very moment when he heard truly. Each noise was crisp and new. Around him were the night birds stirring in the trees, the puffed breath of the disciples, the crackle of licking flame, the creak of leather belts. He heard them all, and he hasn’t stopped hearing since. Creation is vibrating, uncountable voices overlapping in the same tremulous song. Even the breeze seems to have a voice, and the water running on stone. Even his own heartbeat. They cry out when the rest of the world is silent.

“What did you do to me?” Malchus asks, voice barely above a whisper, for everything is new and he cannot make sense of it.

The Nazarene’s smile isn’t mocking. It’s as quiet as his voice, and it crinkles the corner of his good eye. “I know how long you’ve waited to hear.”

They’ve never met, of course. Of course not. This man doesn’t know him. How could he? Malchus has taken great pains to hide his gradual loss of sound. Each year, the muffle covers his ears a little more, stealing his senses, deadening the world to him. If he misses a call, he plays it off. If he cannot hear his wife calling, he feigns captivation by his task. He does it well, he thinks, well enough. Perhaps his wife suspects. But only he knows, only he and his God. And this backwater Nazarene with an accent pulled from Galilee’s fishing waters—because Malchus can hear the accent now—cannot know Malchus. How could he? No, he does not.

But he knows.

Malchus is sure, standing before this man who made him more than whole, that he is known. Known, and known truly. And here stands Malchus, his jailer. His enemy.

“How could you know?” he asks, eyes searching the Nazarene’s. The water drips, drips. A rat scritches at a bit of stone. “I can’t do anything for your case. They’re bringing you to Pilate.” His grip tightens on the flask—his only offering—and the stale water it holds. The words pour out of him. “I’m a guard. They told us to go, so we went. I had no stake in it, see? See, we were told to go. I was told to go. I never intended—”

“Malchus,” the man says softly, almost fondly, as if he is interrupting a brother and not one walking him to his death. “Will you pray with me?”

The request startles Malchus out of his own thoughts. He pauses, wary of some trick. Without meaning to, his hand rises to touch the warm outer shell of his ear, tracing the connecting point between the cartilage and his skull. There’s not even a seam to show where it had been severed.

Mouth dry, Malchus finally nods, and the Nazarene closes his good eye. The water slides again down his temples. His words fill the damp space, and Malchus recognizes them at once, joining the recitation:

“Naked I came from my mother’s womb,

and naked shall I return.

The Lord gave—”

The man breathes in, and Malchus breathes with him.

“—and the Lord has taken away;”

Their breath stirs the stale air of the room. All has finally gone quiet. The Nazarene opens his eye and tips his head to look up, past the stone roof, past the courtyard and the trembling earth, to the heavens, spread out over them like a tent. The water no longer falls. The rat is silent.

“Blessed be the name of the Lord,” he says.

#not art #triduum #writing #holy week reflection #I think a lot about Jesus in the cell on Holy Thursday night #He had been abandoned and beaten and betrayed #so every year on Holy Thursday I imagine sitting with him in that cell and praying with him #But last year I was in a rough place and felt trapped in my own failings and habitual sin #and as I was sitting in the pew and feeling so pathetic and weak and like I had let Jesus down #I heard him tell me “Tonight I'll come sit in your own cell with you.”#so if any of you are feeling trapped this year or like you've failed at your faith #Just know that Jesus will come sit in your cell with you no matter what it is #He'll just sit with you and quietly love you #also I feel like Jesus was thinking of all people suffering from insomnia when he was in that cell. they must have been on his heart

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ornii · 1 year

Note

Ya dun goofed. Now I'm invested in My Bitter Half and I will binge all of it and support it as long as you're willing.

My Better Bitter Half Part 3

Sibling Rival, Part 2

(Y/n) and Wednesday talk about their feelings.

Wednesday was inside her dorm, typing upon her typewriter to the utmost intent. She listens softly to “La Llorona” as she continues but eventually stops to speak to someone.

“You can stop your perverted staring.” She says, In the corner, (Y/n) is leaning against the wall, he walks over behind her.

“Well I would, but I can’t trust you to go ten feet without trying to escape. And I don’t have a tracking collar to put around your neck, so this is the only option.” You say, Wednesday stands and turns to face you, her arms folded.

“As Ive Said before you cannot stop me.”

“Oh I can, and I will. You have no other options Aki Hermana, and I detest the idea of my other half living as some puckish fugitive. So put you big girl garments on, and accept your fate.”

“If you think you can stop me, I implore you to try, you may be taller by a measly five inches but I excel in all things you fail in.”

“Listen Here—“

The siblings bicker until the bed creaks, catching their ears, the two stop and slowly turn to Wednesday’s bed.

“Did you hear that?” You ask.

“Of course I did.” Wednesday replies and the two slowly approach the bed, Wednesday grabs the edge and swiftly removes the cover, and they come across a hand, switches together and living without any other body part.

“Hello, Thing.” The twins say, thing is pinned to the desk as (Y/n) has a pair of sharp scissors in the other hand.

“Did you think my highly trained olfactory sense wouldn't pick up on the faint whiff of neroli and bergamot in your favorite hand lotion?” Wednesday says. You grip him tighter and smirk,

“I could do this all day. Surrender?” You say and he relents, you let go and he begins to frantically tap.

“Mother and Father sent you to spy on us, didn't they?” Wednesday said, listening to Thing disposition.

“Hm, it seems even I’m not above the watchful eye of mother and father.” You say, and Wednesday shakes her head.

“That they thought I wouldn't find out proves how much they underestimate me. Oh, Thing, you poor, naive appendage. My parents aren't worried about us. They're evil puppeteers who want to pull the strings even from afar. The way I see it, you have two options. Option one. I lock you in here for the rest of the semester, and you go slowly insane trying to claw your way out, ruining your nails and your smooth, supple skin, And we both know how vain you are.” Wednesday says.

“Option two.” You chime in, “You pledge your undying loyalty to us.” You say, Thing reluctantly bends his, finger to the twins.

“Good.” You say.

“Our first order of business is to escape this teenage purgatory.” Wednesday thinks.

“Our first order of business is to keep my dear dreadful sister within the confines of her prison.” You think.

Even when the Addams twins are on the same page, they still continue their deception upon even each other. Suddenly the door opens and a tall, beautiful woman steps out, Weems.

“Ah. Addams, it’s good I do not have to search for the other, come. Your therapist is awaiting.”

“Well dear sister, I must say goodbye.” You say, but Weems pipes up.

“You’re coming as well (Y/n).” She says, you jerk your head suddenly to her.

“Excuse me?” You ask.

“Yes, you’d mother wished for you both to attend, to work out your issues.”

“Issues? I have no issues.”

“That’s a lie.” Wednesday chimes in.

“I— if I’m lying then let god strike me down right now.” You say, suddenly they can hear thunder boom in the distance. Wednesday turns back to him coyly.

“It seems he has spoken.” She says, (Y/n) and Wednesday were driven to the therapists office. The two sit in separate chairs, Wednesday with her classic deadpanned demeanor, (Y/n) with arms folded, leg folded as well. The two sir across from a woman with slight dirty blonde hair, Dr Kinbott.

“I read the notes from your school counselors.” Kinbott says.

“Mrs. Bronstein. She had a nervous breakdown after our last session and had to take a six-month sabbatical.”

“How did you feel about that?” Kinbott asks Wednesday First.

“Vindicated. But someone who crochets for a hobby isn't a worthy adversary.” She responds.

“Adversary? I hope we can forge a relationship based on trust and mutual respect.”

You scoff at this.

“This isn’t some Kumbaya ritual.” You day:,

“This is a safe space, (Y/n). A sanctuary where we can discuss anything. What you're thinking, feeling, your views on the world, personal philosophy.”

“That's easy. I think that this is a waste of time.” Wednesdays says. “I see the world as a place that must be endured, and my personal philosophy is kill or be killed.”

“So, for instance, when someone bullies your brother, your response is to dump piranha in the pool. Or in your case (Y/n), when a few boys push your sister down, you burn their houses down.” Kinbott says to the twins.,

“You know the old saying, never bring a knife to a sword fight Unless it's concealed.” Wednesday said, Kinbott turns to (Y/n).

“(Y/n), you can understand why it’s bad to burn social bridges like this.”

“I don’t burn bridges, I demolish them.” You respond.

“Point is, you assaulted a boy, you’ve committed arson, and showed no remorse for your actions, That's why you're both here. He lost a testicle.”

“I did the world a favor. People like Dalton shouldn't procreate.”

“And children should know to keep their hands to themselves, common courtesy. Are done here?” You ask.

“We're not done yet. Therapy is a valuable tool to help you understand yourself, It can teach you new ways to deal with your emotions, it can also help mend bridges with your family.” Kinbott smiles at the twins.

“Why don’t we begin, with You (Y/n). How do you feel about your sister?”

“How do I feel? She’s smart, resourceful, and a genius. But she gets in her own way and is a stubborn black Mule when it comes to people giving her genuine and honest advice.” You say.

“That’s.. something.” Kinbott said, “Wednesday?”

Wednesday looks a bit uncomfortable, but opens her mouth.

“My brother is clever, intelligent and surprisingly deceptive. But his personal issues stem from his inferiority complex. Therefore he has some grandeur ideal to be some savior for me.”

“It’s not some grandeur ideal, you’re going to get yourself killed running away.”

“That’s my problem, not yours.”

“You are my sister, my problems are your problems.”

“It seems you don’t understand, I share nothing with you besides the blood we share.”

“You can’t accept the fact someone is looking out for you.”

“Why would I want a self indulgent Narcissist to help me?”

“Because the antisocial sociopath will get in her own way and get herself in trouble she can’t escape from.”

“Please, you two.” Kinbott said, let’s be more respectful of each other. It’s obvious you two have, issues with coach other and perhaps we can come to an understanding of love, let’s start with Wednesday, Why don't we dig into that?”

#netflix #male reader #reader insert #wedensday x you #wednesday #wednesday addams x male reader #wednesday x reader #wednesday addams x reader #siblings #platonic relationship #twins

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mamawasatesttube · 1 year

Note

42 “i know you” with either tim or kon saying it to the other 👉👈 or both

"Stay back!"

Tim freezes. The wind whips at his hair and clothes, cool despite the sunny California day; white-capped waves roll across the San Francisco Bay off in the distance, and the Golden Gate stretches across the water to the north. It would be a peaceful, pristine day, if not for what happened earlier.

"Kon," he tries, taking a slow step forward, then another. Kon sits at the very edge of the rooftop, arms wrapped around his knees; he doesn't turn around. "Listen—"

His foot rams into an invisible wall. Tim reaches out with one hand to touch it, skims his finger along it, and finds that it extends up as far as he can reach. No footholds, of course.

Kon still won't look at him. His voice is taut and brittle, and Tim aches for him. "I said, stay back."

"Kon." Tim pushes against the TTK barrier helplessly; it doesn't give even an inch, of course, but he bangs a fist against it anyway. "Let me in."

"What if I hurt you?" Kon challenges. The day may be sunny, but in the dome of TTK in front of Tim, a storm is raging; he can see the strain on all the pebbles and bits of rubble on the rooftop, being pushed and pulled this way and that, trembling from the pressure. "I've done it once. What if I do it again?"

"No, you haven't," Tim corrects. "Lex Luthor hurt me once, using you as a weapon."

"That's just it!" Kon's hands slam down onto the edge of the rooftop. Tim notes, though, that they leave no cracks in their wake. "I was—I was made as a weapon, Tim, I was made to hurt people, and—and those guys earlier, they were right to be scared of me! I'm—I'm dangerous and I could hurt so many people if I get used as a weapon again!"

He whips around, finally, and Tim can see the tear-tracks staining his cheeks. His heart cracks a little bit further in his chest.

"I'm not afraid of you, Kon." He lifts his chin. "I never could be."

The TTK surges forward, suddenly; it wraps around Tim faster than the blink of an eye, pinning his arms to his sides and his legs together as it pulls him close to Kon, until Kon tips his chin up with one finger. His eyes are teary-bright.

"I can feel all the blood pumping through your body right now," Kon says, his voice raw. "I can feel all the air in your lungs. I could—I could just—it would be so easy, if I wanted to—if I wanted to just stop your heart. Freeze your lungs. Suck all the air right out of you and watch you suffocate surrounded by fresh air. I could—I could do so many horrible, fucked up, awful things to you! And you say you could never be scared of me?!"

Another tear escapes, rolling down his cheek and dripping from his chin onto his shirt. God, seeing those two kids terrified of him earlier, when he appeared from the sky, furious with Metallo, his eyes glowing red... that really did a number on him, didn't it?

"Yeah," Tim agrees easily. Kon will know it's the truth; he already must know the way Tim's heart rate hasn't spiked at all despite the manhandling. Tim trusts him far too much for that. "Because you'll never do any of those things, no matter how easy it is to think of them."

Kon's invisible grip on him slackens, then falls away entirely, setting him back on his feet so gently Tim could weep. "Tim," he manages, voice even rougher. "Tim, I... they made me as a secret weapon against Superman, and then they told me I was a hero. I'm not... They... How can you say that?"

Tim reaches up and cradles Kon's face in both hands, his thumbs stroking tenderly over his tearstreaked cheeks. Kon is still, frozen, petrified, as Tim leans forward, draws him closer, until he can press their foreheads together, and their noses brush. Kon's skin is warm to the touch, and he smells faintly of sunshine.

"Because." Tim strokes his cheeks again, thumbs away another stray tear. "I know you. And I know you are so much more than what you're scared of."

"Tim," Kon pleads. He sounds so lost and heartbroken that Tim's chest aches; he slips one hand around to cradle the back of Kon's neck, keeping him close. "Tim, I—I didn't mean to scare them, I didn't—"

"I know." Tim rubs their noses together, staying close; he wants to make sure he's all Kon can see. "I know you didn't. It's okay. They were already scared by everything going on. It's not your fault, Kon. You're good."

Kon sucks in a shaky breath. Tim offers him a slight smile; Kon bites his lip, clearly torn. "I... I don't want anyone to be scared of me."

"I know. I know." Tim rubs a slow, gentle circle into the back of his neck, his chest tight with tenderness. How can he possibly get it through his Kon's head, just how wonderful he is, just how bright and kind and trustworthy?

Kon sniffles. Tim thumbs away the next tear that falls. He almost wants to kiss away the one after that, but chickens out—reconsiders—at the last second; this doesn't seem like the time to spring his feelings on Kon. Not when he's already so vulnerable. God, Tim just wants to protect him.

"You listen to me, though." He gently taps a finger against Kon's nose. "You're a hero, and a damn good one. So many people feel safer with you around. You give us hope. And me, personally? You've saved my ass so many times. There's no one else I'd rather have at my back. And beyond that, you're my best friend. You make me happy, Kon. And I trust you. So I will never, ever be afraid of you."

(In fact, and Tim knows it is definitely not the time to bring this up, but he can't quite stop himself from thinking it: the fact that Kon can manhandle him without even lifting a finger? Not at all scary. More like kinda really hot.)

(Ahem.)

Kon's lower lip wobbles. For a moment, he just stares at Tim, his eyes wide; then the dam finally, finally bursts. He chokes on a sob, buries his face in Tim's neck, and clings to him like a lifeline as he starts to cry in earnest.

Tim hugs him tight, rubs his back, and rests his cheek against his hair. He has never felt more protective in his fucking life. "I got you, clone boy," he murmurs. "I got you."

And he'll happily sit here in the sunny remnants of that ebbing storm and hold him, for however long as it takes.

50 Prompts About Devotion

#timkon #tim #kon #rimi writes #kon: i have so much power and strength... i could hurt so many people :( what does this make me...#tim: sexy. next question #anyway tim would totally be a monsterfucker if the monster was kon and in this essay i will—#clambuoyance

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alloftheimagines · 2 years

Text

billy hargrove | bruises

masterlist | ko-fi

words: 1.9k

warnings: 18+. includes triggering themes. read with care!

abuse, bullying, attempted sexual assault on reader, violence, blood, strong language, hurt/comfort, angst, paaaiiiiinnnnn

prompt: billy and the reader have been dating for a while and billy finds a note like the song and he finds out tommy or one of his friends is hurting her and he becomes angry and overprotective of her with some fluff and smuttt angst??:))

You thought that graduating would finally free you from the torment of Tommy Hagan and his friends — but it doesn’t quite work out that way. Instead, you’ve been forced to work with him at the pool all summer.

He’s different now. More discrete. But he still treats you like a piece of shit whenever your co-workers aren’t around. Knocking your sandwich off the table in the break room and stepping on it so you end up without lunch. Tripping you up by the pool and claiming it an accident. Always watching you teach with that intimidating, smug, oily smirk that leaves you filled with nausea and dread because it promises something is coming. It’s always been like this at school, but somehow, now, it’s worse. Your knees and wrists are bruised. Last week, you hit your head against concrete when he tripped you. You go hungry most days. You can’t quit, though. You need the money to get the hell out of Hawkins. So you put up with it, sobbing in your car after every shift. Sometimes, you feel Billy Hargrove watching and expect him to join in, but he never does. He might not even know; Tommy is good at covering his tracks, and the two don’t seem as close as they once were. But they still laugh and joke together. They get to enjoy their job while you suffer through every second.

You wince now as you step into the showers, hiking up the temperature as though scalding your skin might wash away the day. You dunk your head under the spray of water, raking back your hair and standing like that for a while. You don’t hear the footsteps behind you. You don’t see the intruder. You only realise he’s there when you feel cold hands on your hips. You gasp, whipping around to come face to face with Tommy. You still wear your swimsuit, but you cover up your cleavage nonetheless, stepping back to try to put some distance between you. But your spine hits the cool tiles and he follows, pressing up against you, mouth curling and eyes flashing with glee. He has you cornered.

“Enjoying your shower, Y/N?”

“Get out of here.” You want to sound strong, but it comes out as a plea. “Jesus, these are the women’s showers.”

“Is that what you’re calling yourself?” He licks his lips like you’re a piece of meat, and dread turns you cold. If he can hurt you, assault you, what else will he do in the privacy of the showers, both of you in nothing but swimsuits?

“Leave me alone, Tommy.” Your voice shakes, and you try to squirm away, but his hands curl around your wrist in a bruising grip. You yelp, already sore from the last time he pinned you up against the wall — this morning, in the corridors, because you’d gotten in his way when he was carrying equipment out to the pool. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“What?” he asks innocently. And then his arm is pinning your neck to the wall. You let out a small whimper when your head hits the tiles, squeezing your eyes shut when his free hand begins to wander down your hip again. “You too good to be touched?”

“Please!” you scream, praying to god someone, another woman, is working as late as you. Heather or —

“What the hell is going on here?” Billy Hargrove appears through a veil of steam, his nostrils flaring and his hands balled into fists. Your eyes widen and you gulp. You’re outnumbered now. If Billy joins in…

Tommy’s grip on you loosens only slightly. “I was just having a bit of fun with Y/N here.”

“Get the hell off her, you sick fuck.” Billy’s low words surprise you, and your eyes widen as he marches towards you both. He grabs Tommy by the collar, slamming him up against the wall opposite. “You think it’s funny, you slimy prick?”

“Stop it, man,” Tommy grunts, rattled now. “We were just messing around.”

You suck in shallow breaths as you rub your neck, still throbbing from the pressure there. Still, a bleak satisfaction swells in your chest at the sight of Tommy on the receiving end for once. Finally getting what he deserves.

“Didn’t look like Y/N was having much fun, did it?” Billy knees Tommy in the groin, causing him to hunch over and groan in pain. “Thought no one would notice, didn’t you? What you’ve been doing when you think no one’s looking? Well, I noticed. And I don’t fucking like bullies.”

Another kick, another punch. Tommy curls onto the floor, blood coating his lips. He holds his hands up, begging for mercy. “Alright, alright. Stop!”

Billy crouches to Tommy's level. You gulp, heart in your throat.

“Say you're sorry,” he demands.

“Billy…” you begin to protest, but Tommy is weak. Pathetic.

He answers immediately with a stuttering, “I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry, okay?”

“It won’t happen again,” Billy commands, and you have the naive hope to believe it. You’d believe anything Billy says when he’s like this, towering over the weakest man in Hawkins. “Say it!”

“It won’t. It won’t.” Tommy begins to sob.

“That’s right. You’re going to quit tomorrow morning. And you won’t ever look at her again. You won’t so much as touch another woman unless they ask you to. Is that clear?”

“Yes.” Tommy’s tears mingle with his blood. “Yes. Yes. Please…”

Billy lets him go, straightening up and kicking him a final time for good measure, his lip curling in disgust.

You don’t realise you’re crying yourself until he looks at you — and then you feel pathetic, too. But you’re frozen, too stunned to move. You don’t even realise you’re still standing under the gushing shower until Billy approaches slowly, shutting the water off with a careful hand. You’re trembling, confused, embarrassed.

His brows draw together. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

You let him guide you out, and you don’t dare look at Tommy as you leave the showers still sopping wet. A towel is draped across your shoulders, and you pull it closer. Billy stops outside the women’s locker room, and you realise you probably should, too. Your clothes are in there.

“I can wait out here for you.”

“Oh…” Your face crumples finally. “Why?”

He narrows his eyes as though puzzled. “Why?”

You bite down on your bottom lip. “I thought… I thought you were friends with him.” You can’t help but wonder if this is just a trick. Or maybe a hallucination. Maybe you hit your head too hard in the showers and Tommy is still tormenting you, and your coping mechanism is to imagine this. Being saved. But why would your mind conjure Billy Hargrove?

His jaw clenches. “Not anymore. Like I said, I don’t do bullies. I had no idea until I saw the way you came out of the break room this morning. Looked like you’d seen a fuckin’ ghost. How long —?”

“It started in middle school. I don’t even know why.” You swallow thickly.

“Abusive assholes like him don’t always have a reason. They just…” Billy’s eyes glisten absently. “They like the pain they cause. That’s all.”

He sounds, looks, like he knows even more about it than you do. And you suppose you’ve never even seen it as abuse before, though it’s what it is. You wanted to pass it off as bullying, because that’s something you can survive. But this…

“Hey,” Billy whispers, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder. He looks at you as though asking if it’s okay — and it is. It shouldn’t be. You should be afraid of him after the way he hurt Tommy. You look at his hand, find his knuckles bruised and bloody. But he did it for you. And he’s looking at you now like there’s nothing he wouldn’t do for you. Like he understands. No one has ever understood before. “He won’t touch you again.”

“Yeah.” You shiver, a draught reaching you in the corridor. “I’m gonna go and get changed.”

“Okay. I’ll be right here.”

And when you return, he is.

***

Billy taps the steering wheel of his Camaro nervously, casting sidelong glances your way every so often. He feels sick about what he saw. So sick he hasn’t been able to turn his engine on yet. You’re damp-haired and pale and too still where you usually fidget to no end. You’re also wearing his sweater because you didn’t bring one of your own. It’s hot out, but in this car, it’s freezing.

“Are you okay?” he asks finally.

“Yeah.” A lie. You rub the spot on your hip where he saw Tommy grabbing you earlier. The worst part is that he knows he can’t make it better. He knows there’s nothing that fixes what’s broken when somebody hurts you unprovoked, without reason, just because they can.

“Do you wanna go somewhere? Get a coffee or something?”

“Yeah,” you whisper. “Yeah, okay.”

He starts the engine, but your voice stops him.

“Billy?”

“Yeah?”

“Why are you helping me?” Your lip wobbles, and it kills him. All of it kills him. That he didn’t see it sooner. That he didn’t step in this morning when he realised. That you’re suffering the way he has so many times. “I mean, I know you said… Has someone bullied you the way that Tommy…?”

“You know that wasn’t just bullying, right?” He needs you to know. Needs you to understand. To not dilute it. Because he did that for too long, making excuses for his dad. He was just disciplining him. Just trying to teach him a lesson. “It’s abuse. What he’s been doing to you…” Gently, he takes your hand; examines your bruised wrist. It’s an effort not to flinch as though the pain is his own. “This is serious, Y/N. You should file a police report.”

You shake your head. “No. No. I don’t…” Your chin wobbles. “I feel weak. He made me feel weak, and I don’t want everybody to know that I let him. For so long, I let him. I don’t know what he would have done if you hadn’t been there, in the showers. I don’t know…”

His fingernails dig into his palm tightly. He still holds your hand with the other, tracing soothing circles with his thumb. “He’s a fucking piece of shit. I swear to god, I wanted to kill him.”

“I’m glad you were there,” you admit, voice quivering as you turn his palm over. There are scars in his flesh that he usually tries to hide. Burns. Ruined skin from always fisting his hands. The bruises leftover from Tommy’s fucking teeth, and punching the drywall the day before after a run-in with Neil. But not for you. He doesn’t hide from you. You might be the only person who won’t think him broken.

“I’m glad I was, too. I’m just sorry I never realised.”

“You didn’t answer my question. Does someone hurt you, Billy?”

He gulps, feeling frayed at the edges when his stomach flips. “Yeah. Yeah, they do. My dad.”

You purse your lips, pain — his pain — filling your eyes. “I’m sorry.”

He can’t look at you anymore. Nothing has ever felt this intimate. No one has ever felt this close. It’s like being trapped inside a helium balloon, floating, stuck, waiting for the pop. When it doesn’t come, he takes hold of the pin and breaks it himself. “How about that coffee?”

“Sure.” You let go of his hand and lean back, giving him a watery smile. “Coffee sounds good.”

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agaypanic · 10 months

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hi! first off can i say your writing is TO DIE FOR! it's simply amazing and you're literally THE BEST FOR WRITING FOR CHARACTERS NO ONE ELSE RLLY WRITES FOR!

n e ways..

could you do a cute lil imagine about michael kelso and his girlfriend wanting to take a bubble bath with him? like with candles, scented bubbles and everything! and maybe it gets a tad bit smutty at the end (bc let's be fr it's kelso)

i appreciate it sm!! <33

Bubbles (Michael Kelso X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: You want to take a bath with your boyfriend. He thinks the bubbles and candles are a little girly for him, but he can’t say no to you.

A/N: omg tysm <3333 also slightly smutty towards the end bc it’s Kelso

***

You loved nights like this. Nights when there was no school the next morning, nights when your parents wouldn’t be home for hours because they were out for one of their weekly dates, nights when the gang was busy doing their own things. You were able to completely unwind and relax.

You had a bit of a ritual. You started in the living room, watching television while painting your nails. Whether it was Charlie’s Angels, Scooby-Doo and his gang, or the Fonz, you just wanted some background noise. You decided to paint them blue because that was your boyfriend’s favorite color on you.

When the paint had dried, you went to your room to grab your pajamas. After painting your nails, you always took a bubble bath with scented candles around the tub and music playing from your little portable radio. You were about to walk off to your bathroom when the phone on your bedside table rang.

“Hello?” You answered, phone pinned between your ear and shoulder.

“Hey, baby!” Michael responded excitedly on the other end.

“Hey, Micah! What’s up?”

“I thought I could come over. I know your parents are out.” You were quick to pick up the suggestive tone in his voice.

“Michael, I’m not really in the mood for that.” You sat on your bed, toying with the covers.

“Well, can I at least come over?” Michael asked. “I just miss you.” God, how could you say no to him when he sounded so sweet and desperate to see you? You smiled, looping the curled phone cord around your finger.

“Okay then. I’m about to start a bath, so I’ll leave the back door unlocked for you. So when you come in, you’ll know where to find me.”

“Y/n, how can you say you’re not in the mood for sex and then tell me you’re gonna be naked when I get there?” He asked with a joking tone.

“Shut up!” You laughed, and Michael let out a chuckle in return. “Okay, I’m gonna go. See you soon. Love you.”

“Love ya, too.” You both hung up the phone.

You ran to the back door and unlocked it before making your way to your bathroom. Music echoed as the water ran. You put some bubble bath soap in the filling tub before lighting two of your favorite candles and placing them on the edges of the tub. When the tub was filled to your liking, you turned off the faucet and undressed. You threw your clothes into the hamper before stepping into the warm, bubbly water. You sighed loudly in relief as you sank and rested your head against the wall.

You didn’t keep track of how many songs had played before you heard a knock on the bathroom door.

“Can I come in?” Michael asked through the door. You smiled at the sound of his voice.

“Yeah, come on in.” He did as told, shutting the door behind him. You rested an arm on the edge of the tub, hand reaching out for him to take. Michael smiled and sat down against the bathtub, taking your hand.

“Hey, baby.” He kissed your knuckles.

“Hi, Micah.” You squeezed his hand, leaning forward to give him a kiss that he eagerly returned. You bent your knees to rest your chin on them, smiling softly at Michael.

“Having fun?” Michael asked. You gave a hum of confirmation and then suddenly had an idea.

“Wanna get in with me?” He looked at his surroundings, giving out a light laugh.

“I dunno, Y/n. Bubble bath, candles. Seems a little girly for me.” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh, okay. So I can put makeup on you, but you won’t sit in the bath with me?”

“David Bowie wears makeup!”

“I bet he takes bubble baths too!” The two of you laughed at your unserious outbursts. You kissed Michael. “Pretty please.” You begged against his lips before pecking them again. He sighed, untangling his hand from yours.

“Fine. But no telling the guys.” Michael stood up and shed his layers. You clapped your hands with glee, scooting forward in the tub. You had him put his clothes in the laundry basket because he had left so many pieces of clothing at your house for him to wear afterward, and he stepped into the bath. He settled in the place you were in before he came, resting against the wall before pulling you towards him to rest on him. Because Michael’s so tall, he had his legs bent, knees popping out of the water.

“See, isn’t this nice?” You asked. You felt him kiss the back of your head.

“Mhmm.” He hummed into your hair, sighing at the sensation of you dragging your nails up and down his thighs. He grabbed one of your hands, holding it close for inspection. “I like the blue.”

“Did it for you, baby.” You maneuvered your hand in his hold to interlock your fingers again.

The two of you lay in the bubbles, making light conversation with music playing in the background. You were encased by Michael’s limbs, legs on either side of your body, and arms around your torso, keeping you close to his chest. His chin rested on your shoulder while he listened to you talk about something that had happened in class the other day.

Michael moved one of his hands to scratch his face, and when he went to hold you again, he brushed your nipple. You gasped at the sudden sensation.

“Sorry.” He mumbled into your shoulder, waiting for you to continue with your story. But your mind was now filled with other things. It was crazy, the effect Michael Kelso could have on you. One simple, accidental touch had sent your mind into a frenzy. “Babe?”

You turned your head to look at him, eyes hazy with lust. His eyebrows raised expectantly, waiting for you to say something. But he knew that look in your eye; he knew what you wanted.

Keeping an arm around you, his other hand gave one of your thighs the treatment that you’d been giving him. You sighed in relief at the contact. His hand started to travel to where you needed him most, pausing right at the apex of your thigh.

“Please, Micah.” You whined. He clicked his tongue, lips against your ear.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart.” He whispered. “I’ll take good care of you. I always do, don’t I?”

#michael kelso x reader #michael kelso #that 70s show #that 70s show x reader #agaypanic

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