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jsluvtzu · 6 months

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late nights

g!p minatozaki sana x fem!reader

summary: you get a taste of her version of an after-party

cw: smut!!! really nasty smut!!!!!, somnophilia, breeding kink, honestly no plot, men dni

wc: 2k

a/n: wrote this while listening to muse by pnd anddd lemme tell yall… this fic is so muse coded

you splashed your face with water one last time, pat drying it with a towel.

it was 11:24 pm on a friday night, and you decided to have a self-care night while your girlfriend drank her life away at a work party.

the song you had playing on the bluetooth speaker paused and got replaced with a now blaring ringtone.

you disconnected your phone from the speaker and answered it to hear the one voice you’ve missed all day.

“y/nnnn, my favorite girl everrr, hiiii”, sana’s slurred words and giggly tone filled the ear you held to your phone.

you chuckled at your girlfriend’s cute greeting, wondering how many shots of soju she’s had already.

“hii cutie, you having fun?”

“mmm i guess.. nayeon unnie keeps crying and telling me how pretty i am.”

you hummed and walked into your shared bedroom, switching the call to speakerphone and placing your phone on the bed.

“what’ve you been up to without me?”

“i just finished getting ready for bed, that’s all.”, you missed being able to have some time to yourself, but you missed your girlfriend more.

“yeah? what else did you do?”

you heard shuffling noises and small grunts over the phone, but thought nothing of it as you took your sleep shorts off, sliding into bed with nothing on other than sana’s oversized tee.

“hmm, i cleaned a little, took a nice, hot shower, did a face mask, and-“

sana interrupted your rambling with louder groans and you finally realized what she was doing.

“mhm, keep talking for me baby.”

your cheeks burned up immediately at the thought of sana touching herself to the sound of your voice.

“sana.. aren’t there people around you right now?”

“i’m in a stall love. don’t worry about me, ‘just wanna hear your pretty voice.”

“why don’t you just come home and let me help you? it’ll feel so much better, i promise.”, your mind getting filled with dirtier thoughts by the minute.

“fuck, i can’t baby, not yet. jeongie wants us to play some dumb drinking game.”

you groaned in annoyance and pulled the comforter higher up your body.

“i know, ‘m sorry baby, i’ll be home in an hour or two, okay?”

“mhm, whatever..”, you knew that was a lie. every time sana went out with her coworkers, it would always be an all night thing.

unfortunately, sana got you all needy for her from just one phone call, but she wasn’t there to help you relieve your urges.

you turned to lay on your side and rubbed your thighs together in an attempt to soothe the throbbing pain between your legs.

“shit, i gotta go y/n, just wait for me. i’ll be home soon and make you feel better, yeah?”

reluctantly, you agreed and hung up the phone, placing it on your nightstand and turning on a random show on the tv, putting the volume on low.

the dim light from the living room was the only source of light that shined through your open door, the warm ambience calming you into a state of drowsiness.

you fought with yourself to keep your eyes open in hopes that sana would actually keep her promise and come home at a reasonable time.

that fight ended rather quickly.

—

several hours had passed when sana finally came home, extremely drunk and horny.

she stumbled her way through the hallways, bumping into anything and everything in sight.

when she got to the doorway of your shared room, she stopped and held the door frame, stabling herself.

she stood there, staring and observing your peacefully sleeping figure.

you were laying stomach faced down and had one leg hanging out of the blanket, ass fully on display for her.

sana pushed herself off the wall and carefully approached the bed, trying her best not to make any noise.

not that it would wake you up anyways, you were always a pretty heavy sleeper.

as she made her way over to you, she kept her eyes locked on your visibly wet pussy, simultaneously slipping out of her leather jacket.

she got close enough to brush her fingers over your ankle all the way up to your waist, and up again to your face, softly caressing your cheek with the side of her finger.

your messy hair covering half your face. your soft, deep breathing and curved figure. you sobered sana up better than a good night’s sleep could.

she had a moment of clarity. never having thoughts any clearer than right now.

she needed to fuck you. just like this.

sana reached her free hand down her crotch to unzip her jeans, fishing her own cock out in hand.

it wasn’t enough to just stand there and stroke herself to the mere sight of you, she needed to use you.

she stood up straight and lifted one leg up and over the bed, clumsily straddling herself over your legs on her knees.

her skinny jeans were limiting her movement, so she pulled them and her boxers further down her thighs, allowing them to pool at her knees.

sana’s cock was hurting at this point, just eager to have your tight walls wrapped around her.

she ran her tip along your puffy folds, collecting your previous arousal on it and mixing it with her leaking precum.

soft moans escaped her lips when she accidentally dipped herself inside you, throwing her head back and biting her lip, relishing the moment.

“fuck y/n, you’ve just been here all wet and ready for me, huh? poor baby must’ve been so tired, she couldn’t even stay up a few more hours.”, sana whispered.

she was mumbling the filthiest things and having a whole conversation with herself.

“i know this is wrong love, i shouldn’t be this hard when i see you laid out like this. lookin’ all pretty for me while you’re sleeping.”

sana slid your shirt up your back as far as she could without lifting your body, losing her grip on reality when she saw the way your back was slightly arched.

“arching for me even in your sleep? fuck baby, you want this. yeah, you were waiting for this. just waiting for me to take advantage of you when you can’t tell me yourself.”

sana rubbed her hands over your ass, gently massaging your flesh.

“ ‘this why you wanted me to come home so bad? so i could fuck you out of your dreams? wake you up with my dick so fucking deep inside your pussy? huh? my pretty girl..”

you let out a small, short grunt, stretching and adjusting your position, still fully asleep.

sana paused her movements in fear that she woke you up before her fun started, but she smiled when she realized you actually had no clue what was going on, subconsciously angling yourself at an even better position for her.

“look at that.. poor needy little thing just begging to be fucked even when she’s unconscious. how cute..”

she tapped her cock up against your clit a couple times before she ran through your slit down to your entrance, inching herself inside.

dragging out her slow thrust, she made sure to feel every single bit of you, taking in how your pussy stretched around her thick, long cock.

she let out a low groan when she hit your cervix, the whole length of her cock disappeared from view.

“shit.. y/n. you take me so fucking well. god, look at you baby.”

she pulled out of you at the same leisurely pace with no struggle, given how wet you already were.

sana lifted up her t-shirt with her left hand, bunching it up just above her breasts, her abs flexing with every breath she took.

her right hand stayed on the small of your back, holding you in place while she teased herself inside of you, thrusting in and out of you painfully slow.

“you feel so good like this, y/n. fuck, you were right. i should’ve just- fuck- came home and let you help me.”

her pace was getting sloppier, words struggling to become coherent.

“still not awake yet, love? better be dreaming of me if you’re sleeping this good.”

sana was closer to cumming than she thought, her neediness getting the best of her.

she leaned over your figure, hands landing on either side of you, lowering herself to fuck you at an insane pace.

“ ‘gna put a fucking baby in this pretty little pussy.”

you heard her voice right in your ear, slightly stirring out of your sleep.

sana moved her hips in an uncoordinated and messy rhythm, her drunkenness still apparent.

her thrusts were heavy, the whole bed shaking when she started fucking into you roughly.

you were almost fully awake now, feeling how full of your girlfriend’s cock you were, moaning lightly at the way sana pushed up against your sweet spot.

“s- sana..”

“aww, is my baby finally up? change your mind?”

sana stopped and waited for your approval, or any sign that you were genuinely uncomfortable.

“no, please. keep going..”

she leaned down to kiss your cheek, moving down to your neck, the smell of alcohol on her breath pungent.

“i knew you wanted it, baby. such a pretty fucking slut for me. you’d let me use you anytime, wouldn’t you?”

your breathy moans and whines encouraged sana to fuck you even faster than before, her growing urge to cum inside you being the only thing on her mind.

sana straightened herself back up and grabbed your hips, pulling you closer to her so that you were supported on your knees, face still down on your pillow.

her bruising grip stayed on both sides of your waist, resuming her animalistic speed.

you clutched onto the sheets below you, screaming out in pleasure into your silk pillow.

sana hated that your moans were muffled, she needed to hear every pretty sound you made.

her right hand left your side and made its way up to your hair, grabbing a fistful of your strands, yanking forcefully until you were flush up against her.

you yelped at her roughness, moaning at the way it turned you on twice as much.

“fuck, sana. just like that, fuck- please don’t fucking stop.”

“yeah? you like it when i fuck you like the toy you are? hm? ‘love it when i use you like a fucking fleshlight. dumb slut can’t even think right when i’m fuckin’ her this good.”

you moaned uncontrollably at sana’s words, your mind going blurrier and blurrier.

both you and sana’s moans were in sync, a perfect harmony.

“shit- i’m so fucking close y/n. ‘gna fucking cum inside you.”

“fuck, please, yes, please, i can take it, ‘just fucking get me pregnant.”

you didn’t even realize what you said, too fucked out to think rationally.

sana was basically growling in your ear, holding you tightly against her with her arms wrapped around your waist.

she let her grip on you go, flipping you over and pushing you down on your back, thrusting into you inhumanly fast.

tears rolled out the corners of your eyes, the pleasure overwhelming you.

sana’s hands wrapped around your throat, her eyes staring deeply into yours and her mouth slightly open, letting out short groans and curses.

“fuck fuck fuck, ‘m gonna cum, oh fuck-“

sana slammed her hips down, stilling her movements and moaning every time her cum pulsed out of her cock.

you felt her warm liquid filling you up, whining at the way her dick twitched inside you.

her hands loosened from your neck, her body crashing down onto yours as she tried to catch her breath.

she didn’t pull out yet, her dick too sensitive to move.

you reached your hands up to her hair, raking your fingers through her tangles, stroking her head gently.

the sleepiness was sneaking its way back to you, your eyes fluttering closed.

after a couple minutes of sana laying on top of you, she pulled out and looked up at you, kissing her way down your body.

she reached your sticky, cum-filled core, hovering over it with hungry eyes.

“let me clean you up, baby.”

you didn’t even care that sana stayed out too late anymore, she definitely made up for it.

#twice imagines #twice x reader #twice smut #kpop x reader #kpop gg #sana x reader #sana smut #minatozaki sana

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mistydeyes · 9 months

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opposite of a meet cute

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summary: Not everyone can have a cute story about how they met and that's clear when you tell the story of how you met your significant other. From punches to car accidents, your way of meeting your future husband was definitely unique.

pairing: 141 x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, mild injury/violence, bodily fluids? (its someone throwing up a drink and i think you can guess who)

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price - during a bar fight

As Price walked down the Saturday night street, he kept to himself and casually peered into the busy bars and pubs. He was on his way back from his favorite cigar shop and was comforted by the brisk weather and the cacophonies of conversations. He was almost to his townhome when he passed a loud pub. His pleasant walk was interrupted by two men fighting loudly. He could hear the sounds of swearing and the sickening impact of punches being thrown. He thought of crossing the street but it was clear that this wasn’t going to end anytime soon. He watched as people just observed the fight and no one was intervening as the street was filled with the sound of fists contacting and groans. He wondered where the fuck the bouncers were and why no one had called the police yet.

"Don't be a hero, John, don't be a fucking hero," he kept saying in his mind as he watched the chaos unfold. His hands balled into fists on the warm inside of his jacket and everything was screaming at him to just continue walking. He could have just crossed the street and let someone else handle the situation. But of course, he couldn’t let these two drunk assholes continue and he went in to break up the fight. In the mayhem, a few punches were thrown his way and Price decided to deliver some defensive moves of his own. However, his punch made contact with someone other than the two drunkards. Around the same time, you were headed back to your flat after a late-night snack run and came upon the fight. You moved through the gathering crowd of cameras and jeers until you came upon the scene. Price would later make fun of your lack of self-preservation but in that moment, you decided to be a good person and tried to end the drunken punches and swears. That's how you ended with a hard punch to your nose. You swear you could see stars as you tried to stand up straight. Staggering backward, you fell onto the concrete as Price rushed over. You could feel blood drip down your lip as he helped you get back up. His eyes were filled with worry as he tried to assess the damage. Thankfully, the bouncer finally came out and put an end to the stupid brawl.

“You broken?” he asked as you sat on the bench outside the loud pub. If he hadn’t gotten you ice and piles of tissues after the punch, you would’ve thought it was a threat. Your nose was pooling blood for a few moments and the air smelled of sickly iron. “I’ll be alright, the bouncer said it wasn’t broken,” you replied as you continued to hold the ice to your throbbing nose. You chatted for a while as the pain dulled and he even offered you a cigarette. You declined as your entire face was still throbbing mildly but enjoyed that his cigar took away the smell of blood rather quickly. "That was stupid, you know?" he said to you after a long drag, "you shouldn't have intervened." You laughed and winced a little at the pain. "I'm stupid? You were the one throwing punches," you joked and you both shared a laugh.

Eventually, you felt well enough to head home and John even booked you an Uber so you wouldn’t have to walk the late-night streets back to your flat. You didn't mind the free ride and happily accepted. As you sat in silence waiting for your ride, you thought it wouldn’t hurt to ask him something. “Not to be blunt, but I’d like to see you under better circumstances,” you said and you cringed at your stuffed-up voice. He laughed and you felt a little embarrassed at your offer. “Not many people would say that after a punch,” he began as he looked at you under the glow of the pub’s sign, “but I’d like that.” You exchanged details before he led you to your Uber, making sure you were safely on the way home.

soap - in a pub

"C’mon Y/N let’s just stay for another drink,” your friend begged. This was the third pub you had been to that night and were already feeling drunk from the countless number of beers and shots. Your friend from uni was in town and she thought you were 18 again. “Alright alright one more,” you agreed and flagged down the bartender for another round of beers and a shot. "My turn to pick," you smiled and your friend flipped you off. "Two pickleback shots please plus the beers," you asked and the bartender went off to make the concoction. "You are the devil," she said as he returned and you jokingly cheered her shot glass of whiskey. You winced as you washed down the brown liquor with a shot of pickle juice. Your friend was fully gagging after. “Jesus I don’t know how you do those,” your friend joked and she hurriedly chugged her beer. “Practice,” you winked and cheered her glass. You talked about some menial topic when you were interrupted by a group of men coming in. You could tell the minute they stepped in, they were army men on leave based on their broad figures that maneuvered through the crowded pub. What was more obvious was that this probably wasn’t their first stop. You smiled slightly as you saw them laugh loudly and clumsily walk up to the counter. They found four seats next to you and you rose your glass in a toast as they ordered.

“Sorry to interrupt, but what’s a good shot here?” one of the men tapped your shoulder. You turned from your friend and smiled at his politeness. “Pickleback,” you answered and in the corner of your eye, you could see your friend shaking her head in refusal. “Four pickleback shots,” the man called to the bartender and she nodded in response. “Thanks for the recommendation, name’s Johnny by the way,” he said and stuck out his hand. You shook it gingerly and replied with a “Welcome home soldier.” “How’d you know?” he asked as the bartender delivered their drinks. “I’m real familiar with your military types,” you joked, “enjoy the shot.” With that, he turned to his comrades and they took the shot of whiskey. Two out of the four men took it effortlessly but the other two, including the mohawked one, winced. “No no no you got to take the pickle juice after,” you laughed and you pushed the glass over to Johnny. He grabbed it, some whiskey still in his mouth, and tried to swallow it.

You laughed at his disgusted face but moments later you were coated with liquor and pickle juice. Now it was his friends’ turn to start laughing. “I-I am so sorry,” he stammered as he grabbed some napkins and tried to help sop up the mess. One of his friends returned with a pile of wet paper towels. “Sorry about him, we’ll cover your tab,” the man smiled as you dabbed your shirt. “It’s really okay that shot is definitely something else,” you joked as Johnny kept trying to help. You were heading home anyways and had had much worse spit up on you, so your spirits were uncharacteristically cheery. You were about to head out when Johnny stopped you gently. “I know this was an awful first impression, but can I take ya out to a proper drink?” he asked and you could tell he was bracing for rejection. “Sure,” you smiled as your friend stood waiting. You exchanged numbers and before you left, you made sure to leave him with a sarcastic comment. “As long as no more pickle shots,” you winked and you left him embarrassed as his mates laughed hysterically.

gaz - through a car accident

Kyle prided himself on being a good driver. Naturally, his job meant he had to be ready to steal a getaway vehicle or be able to shoot and drive at the same time. It was hard not to have the same mentality when he was on leave. He drove defensively but sometimes the traffic in London made him want to drive on the shoulder and bypass the long lanes of cars. “Let’s go!” he yelled as the stop-and-go traffic was ruining his day of groceries and errands. The constant honks started to give him a headache. As he slammed on the brakes again, he couldn’t help but let out a frustrated sigh. You were in the same boat. You had just gotten out of your 9-5 and just wanted to relax at home with a book and a glass of wine. You turned up the volume on your stereo higher as the music drowned out the annoyed energy from the cars around you. You tapped your fingers on the wheel as the lights changed from red to green and the cars began to move at a snail's pace. You slowly built up speed and followed the car in front of you.

You were a little over the 48 km speed limit before the vehicle in front slammed on its brakes. You wish you had better reflexes as you rammed your car into their bumper. You held your face as the impact of the airbags left you dizzy and disoriented. You exited the car in your shaken state. Kyle was pissed at first at the driver who wasn't paying attention and the biker who entered the crosswalk. However, when he saw you holding your head, his anger turned into worry. “Are you alright?” a man called to you as you walked up to his car. “I’m so sorry,” you began to say as you looked at his dented bumper and your crushed front. “It’s my fault, some fucking biker entered the crosswalk,” he began to say as he held your chin to look at your injuries. You noticed your nose was bleeding slightly and he grabbed a tissue out of his pocket for you. “I already called the authorities, they’ll be here soon,” he replied and you both sat on the curb.

You exchanged contacts and insurance before the police finally arrived. It took a while as they had to maneuver through the afternoon traffic so it allowed you to chat with the other driver. You learned he was from the area and was actually on leave. “What a shitty way to spend it,” you joked as you watched the cars direct around the wrecked vehicles. “I’m sorry about your car,” he apologized as he started at the wreckage. “It’s alright, glad you didn’t kill that biker,” you replied and he laughed in response. You swear you wish all of your car accidents were like this. The other driver, Kyle, insisted on having them assess you for a concussion first before they went into any details. You laughed at his worry as you were more concerned about your damaged vehicle. By the time it was over, you sadly watched as your car was towed away. You stood on the sidewalk as you tried to figure out what to do next. “You find a ride?” Kyle asked as he prepared to enter his vehicle. “Yeah my friend was in the area so he’s on his way,” you smiled and he nodded. “I’ll be sure to reach out,” he replied before waving off and signaling back into the traffic.

Eventually, your friend showed up and immediately asked for all the details. You were sure to fill him in, throwing in that you were happy the other driver was as kind and as handsome as Kyle. Your friend laughed when you finished. “Don’t tell me you fancy the man who got you into an accident,” he said through a string of laughter. “Maybe I do,” you said as your fiddled with your phone, Kyle’s contact smiling back at you.

ghost - the grocery store

Ghost rarely went to the grocers. He could count the number of times he went on his two hands. Being part of the 141 meant constant last-minute deployments so he learned over the years to stock up on canned food and pasta. Spoiled milk was not a pleasant thing to return home to. As he pushed the trolley down the aisles, he grabbed some of his non-perishable favorites. You too were making your way down the aisle, grabbing some essentials for the week and mentally checking off items in your mind. You pulled your trolley over to the side as you scanned for some boxes of spaghetti. Unfortunately, the boxes in question were positioned on the highest shelf. You made a pitiful attempt to grab it until you realized it wasn’t possible without a ladder. You looked around the aisle until you found a tall man who could definitely get the job done.

You walked over as he was looking for his own boxes of penne. “Hi sorry to ask but can you-” you began to ask as he looked up. “Just tell me how many you want,” he replied and walked over down the aisle. “Observant,” you said under your breath and pointed out the ones you wanted. He grabbed them with ease and handed them to you. “Thanks again,” you smiled before holding the two boxes in hand and looking at some quinoa for a new recipe you wanted to try. As Simon pushed the trolley past another aisle, he couldn’t deny he was glad you asked him to help. He had been slightly distracted by your valiant attempt and may have spent a few extra minutes in the aisle to see if you needed help.

However, he returned to his routine and another aisle. He was scanning for a can of soup when he saw a familiar face walk away with his trolley. "Hey that's mine," he replied in a voice louder than he had intended, you turned around and jumped a little. "No it's mine," you began to say but before you could finish, he joined in front of you. 'I'm certain this is mine, I pushed it from the other aisle," he corrected and you rolled your eyes. "Well look at what's inside and tell me if you still think that way," you said and gestured to the items. Simon could feel his ears get red as he saw bottles of sweet wine and the brand of pasta he had gotten for you. You stood there arms crossed as he came to the realization. “Fuck,” he swore under his breath and looked back at you. "I think you might have grabbed it before, I have your trolley over here," you replied and motioned over to his. "I'm sorry," he said quickly and you swear that's the fastest you've ever seen anyone walk away.

Simon hurriedly finished up his groceries and realized he probably was forgetting some items. He didn't care as he shoved items onto the conveyer belt. His ears were still flush from the embarrassing altercation. As he was adding more items, another customer came into the queue behind him. “Sorry about the mix-up,” you said and he turned to look at you. You were awkwardly adding your items as he stared for a minute. “Um, it was my mistake, don’t worry about it,” he replied and you swear he looked embarrassed. You took a moment to reply before an old woman behind you spoke up. “Are you going to get his number or am I going to have to find another register?” she joked and you turned back to the man blushing. “I’m Y/N,” you began, “and I guess this is me asking for your number.” You laughed nervously as your face heated up and the grocers suddenly felt warmer than before. “Simon,” he answered quietly, “and sure.” You grabbed your phone out of your purse and traded contacts. As you walked out with your bags, you saw Simon load his car and give you a small wave. You wondered if he would like to join you for dinner sometime this week.

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softspiderling · 1 month

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and I wish you wouldn't wait for me, but you always do | r.c.

summary:

“He always seems so rough, I guess I’m a bit surprised to see that he’s such a caring boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct her, reaching for her cigarette in her hand without asking, even though you are bumming it off of her. “We’re just friends.”

“Really?”

Avoiding Sofia’s inquisitive gaze, you look out to the pool, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Really. Just friends.”

“Huh.”

OR, everyone thinks Rafe refuses to commit to a relationship, even though you're the one with cold feet.

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

word count: 1,5k

warnings: MDNI, mention of sex, but nothing too graphic

author's note: i just wanted to write a short drabble but it just kept going and i'm not sorry. hope you like it, make sure to leave a comment/reblog if you do, i always appreciate it and ily

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You hate hate hate the word situationship.

It's dumb, and it glorifies uncertain terms in relationships and it never ends well.

Unfortunately, you can’t really find another term for the thing you have with Rafe. It’s more than a friends with benefits thing, but definitely not a relationship. Everyone always thinks it’s because of Rafe; that he doesn’t want to commit to a relationship, commit to one girl, and you always laugh it off when someone asks about it, never really denying it, letting them believe that it’s Rafe’s fault for the vague label of your… Thing. It’s easier to let them think what they want instead of admitting that you’re the reason.

You don’t know why you’re scared. Clearly you have some underlying trauma or maybe it was your first boyfriend who treated you shitty, but you just don’t want to call Rafe your boyfriend. Though honestly, to everyone else, it kind of seems like he is.

At every party, the two of you are attached at each other’s hip. Hands linked, pushing through the crowd, while Rafe looks over his shoulder every minute to make sure you’re still safely behind him. On the couch, Rafe is nursing a drink, listening to Topper yap about his new girlfriend, his arm slung around your shoulder while you talk to your friend. You get to a party together, you leave together.

“You know, I think it’s really cute that Rafe seems so protective over you,” Sofia says.

You glance over at her, having snuck outside for a smoke - Rafe doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes, which is ironic, really - and having bumped into the bartender, you two shared a cigarette.

“He always seems so rough, I guess I’m a bit surprised to see that he’s such a caring boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you correct her, reaching for her cigarette in her hand without asking, even though you are bumming it off of her. “We’re just friends.”

“Really?”

Avoiding Sofia’s inquisitive gaze, you look out to the pool, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Really. Just friends.”

“Huh.”

You pass the cigarette back to her, hoping it would prevent her from talking any more, and it works. She doesn’t bring it up again.

A couple of hours later, you’re sitting in Rafe’s truck as he drives home. Home, as in his house. His hand is on your thigh, and you’re nearly dozed off, when he speaks up.

“Sofia asked me if I wanted to grab a drink with her.”

That got your attention.

You look over at him, blinking in confusion.

“Sofia Flores?”

“One and only.”

Your first thought is, bitch! Your second thought is, why am I getting mad? You swallow the lump that is forming in your throat and you shrug with your shoulders, leaning back in your seat.

“Okay… Where are you going to take her?”

Rafe doesn’t answer, and for a second you think that he might not have heard you before he clears his throat. “I’ll probably take her to the country club.”

“Uh-huh.”

You glance at him for a split second, before turning away to stare out of the window, frowning deeply. There’s something you want to say, it’s on the tip of your tongue, but before you can gather the courage to say it, Rafe pulls his hand away, the moment dissipating, leaving you simmering in anger, fighting with your emotions.

Despite the tension between the two of you, you still spend the night at his place. You still moan out his name as he fucks you from behind, tugging on your hair the way you like it. He still flips you around when you’re close, his eyes searching yours when you finally come, and you still close your eyes. After he’s finished, going to the bathroom to find a towel to clean you off, Rafe wraps himself around your backside, leaving warm kisses on your neck.

“About tomorrow-” he starts, but you break him off.

“Take her to The Summit,” you say. “She works at the country club, it’s weird if you take her there.”

“… Okay.”

You don’t say anything else, pretending that you’ve fallen asleep but you lay there, awake for hours with Rafe next to you. You hate the idea of Rafe going out with Sofia. She’s pretty. And nice. You could see him falling in love with her and it honestly bothers you more than you’d like to admit. There’s moments you’re so close to turning to Rafe, to tell him something, but you always chicken out. Somewhere during your 20th try, you finally fall asleep.

When you wake up the next morning, you can tell that it’s past noon already, the sun already high on the horizon. The other side of the bed is empty, barely even warm anymore, which means Rafe must have been awake for a while now. Picking up a shirt of his that hangs over a chair, you traipse around to find your panties, tugging them on when Rafe walks into the bedroom, already dressed and ready to go.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” you say, distracted, running your hand through your hair. “Do you want to get breakfast?”

“Actually I just wanted to tell that I was about to leave to go pick up Sofia.”

“Already?” you ask, confused, staring at him.

“Yeah, I thought it’d be nice to take her out on the boat.”

“Oh.”

Rafe looks at you. For a very long time. Daring you to say something, but you only look back at him, the lump in your throat returning. Neither of you says anything, so Rafe only nods, grabbing his keys from the dresser.

“You can hang out here if you want, eat something. Don’t know when I’ll be back though,” he said nonchalantly and you ball your hands into fists, not answering because you’re not quite sure if you can keep your voice even. Rafe walks towards the door, when you finally break out of your stupor.

“Rafe.”

He stops in his tracks, halfway out of the room, but he doesn’t look at you. Which honestly, makes all of this a little easier.

“Don’t go on that date.”

To your embarrassment, your voice cracks a little, but you clear your throat, playing it off. Rafe finally turns his head, his eyes finding yours and you manage to hold his gaze.

“Why?”

You roll your eyes with a scoff, having expected that he wouldn’t make it easy on you. Rafe is a proud man, and you… Hurt his pride. Unintentionally, but you did.

“You know why.”

“Say it,” Rafe demands, his forehead creasing. “You can’t keep doing this to me.”

Something broke inside of you, hearing him say it like that, and you take a deep breath as you approach him slowly, your hands shaking as you reach out to wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him close.

“I’m sorry…” You say. “I hate this… I’m really bad at this feelings shit, but… Don’t go.”

You can tell that Rafe is not entirely convinced, and you know what he wants you to say. Something that you’ve been keeping so closely to your chest, that you never dared to say it out loud, or even think about it, but you know that if you don’t say it now, you might never get to change to say it ever again.

“I love you.”

Rafe’s hands find your waist and the frown on his forehead disappears. Finally. “Took you long enough,” he grunts, still a little upset and the lump in throat starts to get smaller.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” you mumble, hiding your face in his chest. “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I was just scared.”

Rafe doesn’t say anything, a hand coming up to the nape of your neck, tilting your face up so that you’d look at him.

“I get it.”

He leans down to kiss you, and you melt into him, kissing him back, following his directions as he moves you backwards to the bed. You fall backwards on the bed, and Rafe cages you in, but before he can go any further, you stop him, pushing at his chest.

“What?” he says, still leaning in to find your mouth.

“What about Sofia?”

“Fuck Sofia,” Rafe mutters, sucking a hickey on your neck but you swat at him.

“Rafe, no. That’s mean, the least you can do is cancel.”

Rafe groans, drawing back to pull his phone out of his pocket to text Sofia. He shows you the text, raising his brows.

“You happy now?”

“Very.”

He tosses his phone on the bed behind you, and gets back to business, nosing along your clavicle. His phone vibrates, but neither of you pay it any attention, to focused on each other.

Rafe: Sorry, I gotta cancel. Hope you don’t mind.

Sofia: It’s okay, don’t worry about it.

Sofia: Hope you two figured it out.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: if you thought "this bitch knows nothing about situationships and smoking" while reading this, you're right! hope it's still accurate.

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #drew starkey #obx #outer banks

408 notes · View notes

toxicanonymity · 4 months

Text

twin peaks.

4k, Joel x afab!reader x Tommy, ONE SHOT A/N: This is my @pedrostories secret santa gift. @endlessthxxghts, you're on my nice list. Happy holidays! ♥️ Ty for the flexibility and for engaging with fics you like, which gave more ideas 🖤. Please excuse the extra men, don't need to remember names. Ty @jksprincess10 for your afab insights! WARNINGS: I8+, Motorcycle Club AU, but Joel is no longer riding. You're a chef. Language. Bar fight. Blood. Gunfire. My first attempt at mild grumpy/sunshine. Passing reference to a bar server's prior SA incident. An OC gets in your personal space and touches your side. Hurt/Comfort. Minor love triangle, I guess, but everyone’s cool. Unsafe P in V, creampies. MFM but only joel inside. The men can lift you. You’re shorter than them. Competency kink, mild size kink, sharing. Starts in Joel POV. Finished & "edited" on covid & meds, fck it we ball! BIKER JOEL RECS: both sides of the moon by @lunitawrites and (and ty for this list luna lol) a minute from home by @agentmarcuspike, little mouse by @katiexpunk & @josephquinnswhore., the road to love by @jobean12-blog

dividers from @cafekitsune for POV change and time jump

“Changed the recipe,” Joel grumbles.

Tommy shakes his head with a smile. “Ya know, brother. . . you might be the only one who comes here for the wings.”

“Cause they’re the best. Or they *were*. Taste this.” Joel pushes the basket over to Tommy and takes a swig of beer, then adds, “If I wanna see some skin, I’ll go to a proper titty bar.”

The uniforms are cute at Twin Peaks, but Joel is there for two reasons: the wings and the company. He sold his Harley and quit the club after a minor accident. It left him only a little scraped up but scared his daughters to death. Now these biker bars are the only place he sees his old crew.

“Shit, they did change it,” Tommy concedes. “Maybe ya should send’em back,” he teases.

“Not a bad idea,” Joel mutters.

“Really?” Tommy asks.

“‘S’cuse me. Miss?” The scantily clad server turns around. “They musta changed the recipe, I can’t eat these.”

“Oh no,” the server frowns. “Sorry ‘bout that, lemme see what I can do.” The server takes the wings back to the kitchen.

A minute later, you emerge from the kitchen in your chef’s whites and Joel does a double take. You smile at him as you approach.

“Oh, shit,” Tommy elbows him, but Joel hardly notices. He’s captivated by you, but he keeps a straight face.

“Heard the wings weren’t to your liking,” you cringe empathetically.

“Why’d ya go and change the Hot Honey recipe.”

“I’m sorry, hun. Hot Honey’s off the menu, that’s the closest we’ve got.”

“It’s *what* now? Why’d ya take it off?”

You sigh with an apologetic smile. “Wasn’t my call.” Then you perk up. “But I think you might really like the new Thai Spice recipe,” you smile.

“Don’t think so,” Joel grumbles.

“He don’t like change,” Tommy explains.

“How ‘bout a basket on the house?” You offer with a tilt of your head and raise of your eyebrows.

Joel is flustered by your charm. “Uh, sure,” he mutters, trying not to check you out. Not much to see anyway with that chef’s apron.

“If ya like’em, buy me a drink sometime,” you add with a wink that makes Joel lose all his thoughts for a moment.

“Yes, chef,” Joel nods, which makes both you and Tommy giggle. Then you turn and head back to the kitchen.

“I dunno what they see in ya, man,” Tommy teases Joel and watches as you walk away. “Mm. Hottest thing here and dressed like a paper towel roll.” Joel fails to suppress a chuckle. “You gonna share?”

“We’ll see.”

The front door to the restaurant opens, and a hush falls over the dining room.

Joel looks over his shoulder for only a second, then turns back toward the bar and mutters, “Fuckin’ Benny.”

“And the Jets,” Tommy adds as Johnny and at least half the rival crew follow Benny into the restaurant. Great, there’s Cal, Carter’s rotten brother. Real bad guy. Their motorcycle club is dangerous.

Joel gets his wallet out of his pocket and pulls out a few twenties, then downs the rest of his beer. “Didn’t come to babysit.”

“Think it’ll get ugly?” Tommy asks. “What about your new friend?”

“My new friend?”

“‘member what happened with Carter’s girl?” Of course Joel remembers. Cal got handsy with her, Carter put him in a chokehold, and a nasty fight broke out. Carter got stabbed.

“Well, I ain’t in charge and don’t got a sweetheart, so I reckon chef hottie’s okay. Where’s Carter?”

“Home. Can’t ride, already busted his stitches open once.”

“Good. His girl ain’t workin’ either.” Joel’s face tenses and his nostrils flare as his gaze falls on Cal. “Cal shouldn’t be here.” Joel has to look away before his rage gets the best of him. Joel glances at a table of his own guys (now Carter's), and he isn’t surprised to see one of his buddies putting on brass knuckles. Ya don’t stab the leader and get away with it, but Joel sure wishes this would go down somewhere else. Joel does a double take when he sees another man at the same table reach for his hip. “Damnit, Harold,” Joel whispers to himself.

“Better hit the boys room ‘fore all hell breaks loose,” Tommy mutters and gets up from his chair.

—---you—--

Tonight’s the first time you’ve spoken with Joel, but you’ve noticed him before. His quiet, dark gaze is hypnotizing. The girls are all over him, and he doesn’t show any interest. He sits there scowling with his drink.

When the chatter of the restaurant abruptly dies down, a pit forms in your stomach. Heavy boots click on the floor, and it sounds like they’re slowly circling the room like sharks. “Hey sweetheart,” Benny croons out of view in that deep, smooth voice. He looks like a young, brunette Elvis. “You new?”

“Started this week,” the new bartender answers bashfully.

“Bet they didn’t teach ya the whole job. Benny'll show ya the ropes,” says a deep voice that makes you bristle. It’s smooth. Southern. Sinister. It's Cal. You can visualize his infectious wink.

One of your cooks puts Joel’s new wing basket on expo. You compose yourself and grab it with a smile. “I’ll take this one.” You put on your blinders and don’t make eye contact with any of the men, but you notice Tommy walk by, headed toward the back.

Before you make it behind the bar, Cal intercepts you. “Whoa, what’s cookin’, baby? You believe this, Benny? Keepin’ top talent locked up in the back.”

Benny’s too wrapped up with the server to respond.

“Thanks for the snack,” Cal tells you with his eyes roving your apron as he reaches for the basket. You pull it back. “Hey, what’s under this, anyway?” He skims your apron from the side and crowds you against the wall. He braces his arm against the wall, over you. “Got one of them sexy uniforms under this?”

“Excuse me,” you say and try to duck under and around him.

“I wouldn’t move, darlin’,” Cal taunts.

“What the hell are you doin’ back here,” a man asks behind Cal.

Cal laughs and looks over his shoulder, and you manage to free yourself.

“Ain’t worth it, Harold,” Joel warns as he approaches, then Joel turns his attention to you. “You okay?”

-. . .-

Joel gets between you and the brawling men. You hear a blow land on someone, and they spit. Then there’s a click, and before you know it, you’re on the floor, tackled by Joel as a gunshot makes your ears ring. The wind is knocked out of you.

Joel is on top of you, and time seems to slow down. Cal is slumped against the wall behind Joel, bleeding from the mouth and chest with a menacing smile.

“Look at me,” Joel says and his massive hand turns your head to face him, bracing his other arm near your head on the tiled floor. “Look at me and only me.” His body is heavy on top of yours.

You nod as chaos unfolds in the dining room.

“You okay?” Joel searches your face.

You nod again, and try to ground yourself with everything you’re physically feeling. The coldness of the tile under your hand. The weight of his body on top of you. The warmth of. . .the massive bulge pressing into your thigh. Joel doesn’t seem to be aware of it, but you sure are now. A wave of desire overwhelms you. Your thigh lifts against his hardening package and it twitches but he still doesn’t seem to notice with everything else going on. He glances behind himself.

“Gonna get ya outta here,” he promises. “Ready?”

Behind you, someone opens the door to the men’s room, belt jingling. “Shit.” You recognize Tommy’s voice.

“Bathroom,” Joel commands as he helps you up, then gently pushes you into Tommy’s arms. He nods toward the family restroom, which has a lock. “Gonna take this outside,” Joel pants as he heads into the fray.

“Joel, don’t–you’re outnumbered, don’t get yourself killed,” Tommy pleads. There’s another gunshot. “Shit, I’ll be right there!” he shouts at Joel

“NO,” Joel barks.

Tommy forces you into the family restroom and locks the door behind the two of you. “You okay?” he asks. You don’t answer. You wouldn’t be able to without crying. He rubs your back, then searches your face. “Breathe for me, darlin’.”

You tug at the high collar of your chef’s apron, trying to unbutton it for relief. Tommy quickly rips it open, exposing your tank top. His eyes linger for a moment, then he cradles your head and takes a deep breath, guiding you in your own breathing. He exhales, then murmurs, “You’re okay, honey.”

You nod and take the apron off entirely, with him supporting you. “Yeah,” you laugh not to cry, but with tears in your eyes. “I’m good.”

“Good, good. C’mere, darlin’.” His strong arms wrap you in a gentle, protective hug, cradling your head into his barrel chest. You take a deep breath, and the scent of his shampoo intoxicates you. “You’re okay,” he repeats.

You pull your head back to look up at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches. Then something else twitches, against your middle. That’s when you feel the denim slide under your hand and realize you’ve grabbed Tommy’s ass. What the fuck. You yank your hand out of his back pocket and stammer “Sorry–” feeling like your face is on fire. Why did you do that? You try to pull away but he gently holds you close.

“‘S’okay,” he chuckles. “Adrenaline. It’s normal.” He dips his head and it’s close to yours. It gets a little closer, then there’s more gunfire and he releases his gentle hold on you. He bolts toward the door. “Lock it behind me” is the only thing he says as he leaves.

You lock the door, then slump down against the wall. Is this real life? What’s gotten into you? Feeling up Tommy Miller in the bathroom less than an hour after you asked his brother out. Yeah, it must be adrenaline. The noise of the fight fades into the background while your thoughts drift back to Joel saving you. He’s so big and strong. So protective. You’ve heard how dangerous he is, but to see him in action? While he’s saving you, no less?

Finally the noises have died down. You wonder if it’s safe to leave. You worry about whether Joel and Tommy and your line cooks are okay. You wait a little longer, then unlock the door and peek your head out. Cal staggers toward you, dripping blood. “It’s okay, I’m alright,” he drawls. Then you swiftly close and lock the door, heart pounding. A few seconds later, boots thud across the dining room and a punch is thrown. You hear Cal groan. “C’mon, man.” Another blow lands and Cal goes silent. There’s a knock at the bathroom door.

“It’s me.” Joel’s voice. You’re still near the door. You unlock it for him. He comes inside and you must look terrified. He holds your cheeks, and his face and shirt are splattered with blood - surely not his own. He hugs you into him. “It’s me, baby. You’re okay.” His voice is deep and soft. He holds you for a minute. When he pulls back again to look at you, his eyes fall to your tank top and he wets his lips. He looks in your eyes again, then at your mouth.

You close the distance with a soft kiss. Joel’s mouth spreads your lips open, and his tongue finds yours. As the kiss heats up, he pulls you tighter, moaning “Mm,” and you feel it again, you feel him. His hands slide down to grab your ass, pulling your hips into his, and he’s firmer. Lord, is he hung. He lets out a low growl from his chest, and he walks forward against you until the backs of his hands nudge the sink counter – thankfully clean.

He bends down and his mouth latches onto your neck. He slips his fingertips into the front waistband of your pants, grabbing the button, then pulls away from your neck to pleadingly meet your eyes, and you nod urgently. He takes your pants and underwear down in a flash, then his hand engulfs your bare pussy and he groans at how wet you are. He kisses your neck again for a moment before hooking his massive hands, one of them wet, around the backs of your thighs. He lifts you onto the sink with a grunt as your legs wrap around him and you feel a rush of desire.

Joel sloppily kisses around your mouth with one hand between your legs and the other cradling your head. His scruff scratches you pleasantly. You grope him through his jeans, which are slick with your arousal, as you unbutton and unzip him. Then his own hand dives into his boxers and frees his thick cock, holding it at the right angle to slide right into you, pants and boxers resting below his balls.

“C’mere, baby.” He runs his stiff cock through your folds and you slowly grind against it with a moan. He spits on his shaft and his swollen, leaking tip prods at your entrance for only a moment before plunging into your wet hole and spreading your insides with his girth. There’s a brief burn, then your body catches up. On his second go, he bottoms out with a groan, and you gasp.

“Yeah,” he sighs and begins to fuck you, slowly at first. “How’s that?”

You can only nod, feeling so full of him you can hardly listen or form thoughts. “Ohh,” you whimper as he stuffs you with his massive cock. Your skin feels hot. He speeds up to a moderate pace and you both moan and grunt as you fuck. He kisses and sucks your neck, moaning into your skin, then he breathes against it. He fucks you harder, deeper

“How’s it feel, baby–ohhh” He slams his pelvis into yours each time.

“Ohhh, God, it’s, yeah, nngh–ohh”

Footsteps come down the hall, and stop outside the door.

“Wait,” you whisper.”

“Want me to wait?” he whispers teasingly, slowing down to an excruciating pace, dragging slow and heavy inside you.

You shake your head no.

“Good,” he whispers.

Tommy’s knowing voice outside the door: “Catch y’all later.” Then the footsteps recede.

“Now please, please” you beg, wanting it harder again. You pull him close and grind your pelvis into his in just the right spot. “Ohh, Joel.” The pleasure overwhelms you and you whimper as you begin to clench and pulse.

“Fuck,” he breathes, “Where do you want it?”

“Right here,” you nod, pulling him closer, keeping him inside with your legs around him.

Joel erupts with a groan, filling your hot, wet cunt with warm bursts, slowly thrusting into you as he empties his balls.

“God damn, you’re somethin’ else.”

---a few weeks later—

"Ain't wearin' a stupid holiday sweater," Joel grumbles. You and Joel have been seeing each other, and now you're going to Tommy’s holiday party with him.

"C'mon, just for the party. It'll be fun," you smile hopefully.

"Gimme a break, baby. Nothin' fun about sweaters."

"Don't be a Grinch," you pout.

"Thought I was a Scrooge," he retorts.

"What if I let you fuck me in Tommy's bed?"

He squints at you. "God damnit, my heart just grew three sizes."

You look down at his jeans and smile saucily. You don't have to make the joke out loud. "Can't wait," you purr and hand him the sweater.

"Tommy'd lose his mind," Joel shakes his head, then raises his eyebrows. "And not in the bad way."

"Oh yeah?"

Joel gives a low whistle. "You should see him droolin' when ya walk away." Joel chuckles, and your face heats up.

"Well. Maybe we shouldn't, then. . ."

"Don't see why not," Joel shrugs.

You look away shyly.

"What's got you all flustered?"

"Nothing," you shake your head, but you can't push away the thought of Tommy walking in and losing his 'mind.'

Joel smirks. "Don't look like nothin'."

"Just excited to see you in a sweater," you run your hand through his curls.

"I ain't the jealous type if ya wanna give Tommy some sugar, too."

You gasp and can't hide your embarrassed smile. Your face is burning. "He told you.”

Joel plays stupid. “Told me what?”

Your hand drifts up to cover your mouth.

“Just sayin’, if ya wanna grab him in a nicer setting. . .”

“Joel!" You gently smack his chest.

“Musta been the highlight of his life,” Joel laughs. “Post-divorce, at least.”

"Naughty list for you." You press his sweater into his chest and go to the closet to change into your own.

----

When you’re standing at the door of Tommy’s ranch, your heart is racing.

“Relax, baby.” He rubs your back.

“You were serious?” you ask.

“Yeah, but ya don’t gotta. Just sayin’ it’s fair game.”

Your eyes meet and he cups your cheek. You whisper, “thanks for wearing the sweater.”

Joel gives you a kiss right as the door opens, and Tommy teases, “You two need a room already?” Tommy’s wearing a festive cardigan open over a wifebeater and his huge belt buckle. He stands aside to let you in, and you don’t miss the way his gaze lingers on your mouth.

Sarah brings her husband, and you spend much of the night talking to them, hearing old stories about Joel. It’s a small party, adults only, and most of the parents have to get home to their babysitters, but Ellie is staying at Bill and Frank’s for the week to help with their Christmas tree farm. It’s a real treat for her and also her first “job.”

—

You don’t steal Joel away during the party, and he doesn’t try either. But when everyone else is gone, you and Joel stay for a drink with Tommy. He offers that you’re welcome to stay over since the kids are with Maria.

“Where ya want us?” Joel asks.

“Well, my bed’s the most comfy,” Tommy looks at you and adds a wink that gives you butterflies.

Joel nods with an intrigued frown. “Whatcha think, honey?”

“Okay,” you nod. You’re afraid to act too eager, but can hardly believe your luck.

In Tommy’s room, Tommy reclines on the bed, while Joel holds you in a hug. Joel turns your chin to meet his eyes and asks “Comfortable?”

You nod and smile.

“Ready to be even more comfortable?”

Joel kisses you gently, sensually. Then his lips become hungrier, and you lose yourself in his rising desperation. He moans into your mouth and pulls you closer against him. He walks against you until you’re at the bed, and when you glance back to make sure you don’t fall, you see Tommy reclining with his ankles crossed, palming himself over his jeans. He holds your gaze and begins to undo that big belt buckle, and you get a rush of arousal.

With you seated on the bed and Joel looms over you. The curves of his hulking muscles stretch his sweater. Your eyes fall to his jeans, and you can see the outline of his massive erection. You reach for the button and he murmurs, “yeah, there ya go,” and affectionately cradles your head while you unbutton and unzip him. Then he takes his sweater off over his head and his under-tee rides up exposing his happy trail. “Let’s get that sweater off, Tommy.”

You turn around and see Tommy is on all fours with his cardigan already off. He��s prowling across the bed, to the foot of it where you sit. Tommy sits up on his knees behind you, and wraps his arms around. He lifts at the bottom hem of your sweater and brings his mouth to your ear to murmur, “Yeah, let’s get comfortable.” You raise your arms and he takes off the sweater for you then cups your breasts. You pull off your bra from under your tank top while Joel takes off his jeans.

“Shit, let’s take it all off,” Tommys says with his voice briefly muffled by his wifebeater as he pulls it over his head. “Nothin’ like three bare bodies all twisted up.” His giant belt clinks as he unbuckles it behind you. Joel steps out of his jeans, leaving the tent in his boxers on full display, making you gush. He bends down to help take your tank top off, then he kisses you as he unfastens your pants. Joel kisses down your body as he removes your pants and underwear.

“Come on up here,” Tommy mutters and wraps an arm around you. He pulls you up toward the pillows, then stacks them behind himself and pulls you between his legs where you can feel he is fully nude and hard. His skin is hot and smooth. You're both facing Joel.

You sit between Tommy’s moderately hairy legs, and his broad palms cup your naked breasts. “How ya doin’, darlin’?” he whispers into your ear. His cock twitches against your lower back. “Ready for my brother?”

You nod, “Yeah.”

“He’s ready too.”

Joel is kneeling onto the bed with his commanding cock in hand. He pauses to squeeze himself, eyes roving over you like you’ve never looked hotter. “Look like an angel, baby. Can’t wait to be in ya.” Tommy lightly grinds himself against your lower back, then his hands come to your thighs, and you spread them open for Joel.

“Always so good,” Joel mumbles, then kisses you deeply and you feel his cock run through your dripping seam. You’re wet, so wet for him. He’s still kissing you, letting your lips separate every second or so. His face pulls back and Tommy slightly adjusts you between his legs. Tommy’s cock is stiff against your back. Joel’s tip nudges your entrance, then he pushes himself into you. Tommy’s hands are still on your breasts. Joel leans over you, bracing his hands on the bed to either side of Tommy’s thighs. It still makes you swoon how his big cock stuffs you full. As Joel thrusts into you, Tommy ruts against you, moaning softly. The force of Joel’s thrusts makes you rub against Tommy’s stiff manhood and he groans.

“Feel so good, baby,” Joel breathes.

“Take’ him so well,” Tommy whispers.

Your breath hitches and you moan into Joel’s mouth with his cock dragging thickly deep inside you. Tommy massages your breasts and grinds into you while Joel kisses you and fucks you good. It feels better and better every minute. Joel dips his hips and grinds against your front as he stuffs you with his cock. You feel the tension building in your belly, and your clit twitches.

You tear your mouth away from Joel’s and whine, “Joel.”

“Oh, baby, gonna cum already?”

You whimper and nod.

“It’s okay, baby. Go ‘head,” Tommy whispers.

“Yeah, let it happen, baby,” Joel agrees.

Then Joel, with his cock still seated inside you, rolls his hips to put more pressure on your front, and Tommy grinds against your lower back, and you clench down on Joel’s cock with a moan.

“Oh, Fuck,” Joel whispers and he begins to pulse at the exact same time you feel Tommy erupt against you. The three of you come in a cacophony of grunts and moans and Tommy’s sliding wetly against your crack as his cum trickles down.

Joel stays inside as he catches his breath, then slides out of you, and some of his cum drips down between Tommy’s legs.

“Think ya might be the one I been lookin' for,” Joel mumbles. He gives you a slow kiss.

You get cleaned up, then you sleep like three spoons stacked together with Joel in front.

===

Thank you for reading!

: @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @taeslarityy @str84pedro @lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl @feministfanboi @prettypartyfavor @am-3-thyst @babeincolor @switchbladedreamz @within-the-depths @may-machin @sloanexx @paleidiot @yourmistysecret @bean-is-reading

#pedrostoriesgift23 #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader x tommy miller #tommy miller x reader #biker!joel #toxicanonymity ☠️#joel miller x afab!reader #tommy miller x afab!reader #the bikeriders #the bikeriders x reader #bikeriders cal #the bikeriders cal

604 notes · View notes

inkykeiji · 4 months

Text

you be my revolver, i got you in my hands

character: choso kamo x fem!reader

genre: curseless!au, smut

notes: eeee first choso piece ever!!! i had such a blast writing this and i wish i could’ve gotten it finished in time for christmas but alas! anyway, please enjoy this and as always please heed the warnings below and stay safe! | title credit: girl like me by dove cameron

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, pseudocest (reader + choso are family friends), age gap, bratty reader, rough sex, minimal prep, teasing, hints of manipulation, hints of dubcon, size kink, pet names

words: 6k

synopsis:

“Maybe you should stop calling me that.” “What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…” “Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—” “Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.”

Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you.

You’ve known each other for a long time—so long Choso’s lost count of the years, now, having met you when Yuuji was just a toddler (and you were, too) at the bus stop on Yuuji’s first day of Pre-K, only to discover you lived a mere few houses from each other—but you haven’t seen each other in a long time, too.

It’s not through fault of either of you; life had gotten in the way, as it has a tendency to do so, had grown busy with intricacies and obligations that demanded time and attention, tangling around you and keeping you apart.

You had both embarked on university endeavours; him pursuing his PhD, you continuing your undergrad, had both stuffed more and more into your lives—art shows and book readings and music festivals and tropical trips—and lost space for each other in the process.

Choso can’t remember the last time he saw you, but it feels as though no time has passed at all, as it normally does with family—you’re still just as bratty as you’ve always been (some things never change, he guesses; some things you’ll never grow out of, he supposes).

Family.

Family is not a word he uses lightly, but you and yours had quickly become his and theirs, had quickly become ours, morphing from neighbours to friends to practically kin, members mixing to form something special, a hybrid of some sort, stuck somewhere between long-standing family friends and blood relatives.

Which is why how you’re acting—how you’ve been acting, this entire winter break—is so undeniably inappropriate.

And although he’s lost track of the years, everything beginning to blur together, to melt and flow and shift and breathe, he still remembers the day he told you to call him onii-chan.

That he doesn’t think he’ll ever forget.

Yuuji’s so lucky, you had pouted, kicking at the sandy ground with the toe of your shoe and swaying a little on the swing. He has a big brother. I don’t. I’ve always wished I had one. Sighing, you looked away, fingers tangling in the chain. But I’ll never get one; it’s impossible.

It’s not impossible, Choso had responded gently, nudging his swing against your own. I’ll be your big brother, if you want.

And you—well, you had been so incredibly happy, all bright smiles and sunshine eyes and breathless giggles, to have a big brother to call your own.

Never in his life did he think he’d come to regret such a decision.

But you seem to be on a mission to make him, this Christmas.

Because you’re really testing his fucking patience, this Christmas.

The term of endearment oozes from your lips as if it’s melted in the wet heat of your mouth every single time, always paired with your worst behaviour: bending over in those short, sweet, slutty skirts and flashing cute Christmas panties at him; placing a hand much too high to be appropriate on his thigh as you watch a film together, leaning close to his ear to murmur out a silky question you already know the answer to; twining your ankles with his beneath the dinner table and gazing at him with eyes full of sin, leaning so far forward on the table that your tits swell, nearly spilling from the too-low neckline of your dress, then giggling when you catch him ogling.

As a result, he’s been meticulous about avoiding being alone in a room with you—he doesn’t trust himself, doesn’t trust what he might do, especially if you start playing your little games—but he should’ve known it would only be a matter of time until you get want you want.

Because it always is.

And on Christmas Eve, you finally succeed.

Somehow, you’ve managed to get him alone in his childhood bedroom—something about wanting to flip through his old sketchbooks, to search for some doodles he had drawn for you many years ago, to rip the pages from the spiral-bound spine and stuff them in your back pocket, for safekeeping, you had claimed.

Tugging at his heartstrings, that’s how you succeeded.

Sitting on the edge of his small twin bed, thighs slotted up against one another and both of your arms looped around one of his, he flips through the curling pages of his drawings, smudged with graphite and pastels.

“Oh, I remember this one!”

A dainty finger points to a cute kitten sketched out in astonishing detail, with a pink nose and a satin ribbon tied in a bow around its neck.

“It’s you,” he smirks. “You asked me what animal you’d be, and then demanded I draw you as a kitten when I responded with a cat.”

“You drew a lot of me,” you lean forward, swelling breasts pressed flush to his bicep, a palm sitting high on his thigh as avid eyes scan over the spread, gaze stuttering as it sweeps from doodle to doodle.

“I drew a lot for you,” he says, the observation entirely unthinking. “You wanted a specific page, but I might as well give you this whole sketchbook. More than half the pieces in here are for you.”

It’s a fact that shocks him in its authenticity, a realization that sends a painful, sick thrill searing through his body, saliva beginning to collect in the dips beneath his tongue.

“I’m such a lucky girl,” you hum out in a sigh, nuzzling your cheek into his arm and looking up at him with shimmering eyes. “I have such a good big brother.”

“You’re spoiled,” he says, but his voice holds no malice, eyes softening as he stares down at you, a small smile on his lips.

“I dunno about that,” you frown, but mischief glints in your eye. “You haven’t really given me what I’ve wanted all holiday…”

Blood turns to shards of ice in his veins, whole body going rigid as his breath stalls in his throat, pounding heartbeat reverberating in his ears.

“Wh-What’s that?”

He doesn’t want to ask it, doesn’t mean to ask it, but the question claws at his tongue, pries past his teeth and tumbles from his lips in a ragged, tangled heap.

And the smile that spreads across your face is nothing short of sinister, that glint flaring to a sharp shine as your pupils breathe, pulse, swallow him whole.

“A Christmas kiss,” you say, stare unblinking and intense as your hand slips between his legs, rubbing little circles into his inner thigh, a mere centimetre or two away from his cock.

The motion makes him jolt, hips involuntarily twitching toward your touch, brushing his half-hard cock against your knuckles.

“That’s all I want,” you sigh almost dreamily, tits pressed harder into his bicep as you lean closer, so tight they’re practically being squeezed from your sweetheart neckline. “A kiss from my onii-chan. Though…”

Trailing off, your hand slides up a little further, pinky and ring finger tiptoeing along the rapidly hardening lump in his jeans, squealing out a short giggle as it jumps beneath your touch.

“I’m not sure that’s all onii-chan wants.”

“Onii-chan doesn’t want anything from you,” he breathes out, but his voice is rough, unconvincing, his hands curled into firm fists on his bedspread, trembling slightly, skin stretched taut across pointed knuckles.

“Another lie,” your lips tug down, voice saturated with disappointment. “You know, good big brothers don’t lie to their siblings,” you fix him with a look, glaring through feathery lashes, expression teetering dangerously on the edges of a pout.

A shiver skitters through his bones, whole body stiffening. His jaw flexes as he grinds his molars, a slow, controlled breath exhaled out his nose, his eyes flicking down. You’re still touching him, two fingertips rubbing gentle circles into his clothed cock.

“Maybe you should stop calling me that.”

“What? Why?” you pout, blinking up at him, sugared innocence coating your tone. “I thought you wanted me to call you big brother…I thought I was allowed to…”

“Bi-Big brothers don’t do stuff like this with their little sisters—”

“Well, it’s a good thing we’re not actually related then, isn’t it, onii-chan.”

“That—That—” he swallows hard, dense saliva pooling at the back of his tongue. “That doesn’t matter—We shouldn’t—”

“But—” your lip juts out further, forehead crinkling. “But I want to.”

You can’t always get what you want.

That’s what he wants to tell you. That’s what he wishes he could tell you. But it just isn’t fucking true, when it comes to you.

“Stop,” he says instead, and although it’s supposed to be an order, it comes out as a plead, his voice hoarse, strained, thin, the proclamation high and false and tinny.

“You’re a terrible liar,” the tip of your index finger traces the head, looking up at him through your lashes. “Did you know that?”

He does, he does know that. He’s a terrible liar, eyes too honest, voice too sincere, expressions too candid, always giving away his true intentions and forthright thoughts.

He’s a terrible discipliner, too, incapable of saying no, of refusing his siblings anything. You know this, too.

“St—” he tries to force the word from his tongue again, protest sticking in his throat. Stop, stop, he wants you to stop, he needs you to stop, please.

But that’s a lie, too, the rejection refusing to take shape, to mold into something audible, something tangible, something worthwhile.

No matter how much he wishes it were true, he can’t will it to become true—not when he wants this just as badly as you do, his straining cock exposing his real desires to you.

You’ve already taken full notice of it, yearning for you through rough denim, hot and hard and throbbing. The pad of your finger rubs over the slit in rhythmic motions, smooth and gliding, aided by the copious amount of pre-cum oozing through the material, and it jerks beneath your touch, eager for more attention.

“It’s so hard, onii-chan,” your hand cups the impressive bulge, rolling it in your palm, a girlish giggle tickling your tongue. “It—It’s throbbing, onii-chan.”

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that?” he breathes, attempting to keep his tone stern and his eyes stony.

“It’s making me want to ride it,” you whimper loudly, squeezing your thighs together, completely ignoring his question. “Oh, please, onii-chan, can I ride your cock?”

“Fu-fuck,” the curse breaks on his tongue, eyes shut tightly, breaking away from your invasive stare. “Fuck, fuck, f-fuck.”

No.

“I’d really like to ride it, onii-chan.”

No.

“Can I? Pretty please?”

No-no-no-no-no!

He wants to say no. He should say no. It’s the right thing to do.

He’s the older brother, the eldest brother, it’s his duty to say no, to mentor, to lead by example.

But he can’t.

He can’t form the word in his throat, can’t mold it into a sound and push it from his mouth.

He’s never truly been able to, when it comes to you—and he was so fucking stupid to think he would.

Because, as always, you are making it exceptionally difficult to deny, gazing up at him with shimmering eyes like that, mouth licked raw in anticipation, bottom lip bitten puffy from the front teeth constantly sinking into it.

“I—It isn’t right—” he attempts, swallowing thickly, cords in his neck straining, desperately attempting to quell the tremor in his voice.

He knows you don’t care. If he’s being entirely honest with himself, he doesn’t, either, his morality eroded to nothing more than a farce, a thin façade, not nearly strong enough to force him into doing the right thing, not nearly strong enough to fortify his rapidly waning self-discipline.

“I—I won’t tell,” you whimper, and he can see the fine film of tears lacquering your eyes, shielding lust-blown pupils. “Pinky promise! I just—I just want you so badly,” your nose twitches cutely with a sniffle, your bottom lip beginning to waver with infinitesimal quivers, soft palm caressing his cock like you love it. “Please, onii-chan?”

And Christ, you’re so pretty, so pouty, with your glistening puppy-dog eyes and pleads dripping from your lips like thick syrup.

How could he possibly say no to something so precious? How could anyone?

“Alright,” he whispers, defeated, eyes squeezing shut as he nods. “If it’ll make you happy.”

“Really?”

And just like that, the tears are incinerated from your eyes, gaze bright and blazing with excitement, lips molded into a brilliant smile.

You look so sickeningly beautiful when you get what you want.

“Yes,” he nearly whimpers, and it’s pathetic, his hips twitching up into your touch, craving, desperate. “Yes, yes, ride my cock.”

The affirmative is all you need, squealing a little with happiness as you climb into his lap, fingers up your own skirt to push your soaked panties to the side, other hand pawing clumsily at his waistband.

“Thank you,” you breathe, the words soaking into his neck, sealed with a sloppy kiss. “Oh, thank you, onii-chan.”

He can’t help but chuckle a little as his hands find your waist, instinctive, steadying you.

“Eager little thing, aren’t you.”

“This is all I want,” you tell him, pulling back a little to search his face. “S’all I’ve wanted for a long time.”

He wants to ask you to elaborate on that, confusion warping his brow, but then you’re yanking at his belt loops and pulling at his zipper and wrapping a soft palm around the base of his cock, a heavy groan vibrating in his throat.

“Wait, wait!” he chokes on a gasp as you hover over his cock, head bumping against your hole. “Let me—”

“I don’t wanna wait,” you whine out, petulant and stringy, whole face scrunched in frustration. “I’ve been waiting! I want your cock in me now!”

Fuck, you’re such a fucking brat, he’s growling as he forces you down on his cock in one swift motion, the sudden intrusion pushing a yelp from your lips. Your forehead knocks against his, sugar-stained breath wafting across his face, his tongue darting out to mop up remnants from his mouth.

It’s really cute, the way your little cunt spasms around his shaft as he bottoms out, pressed snug and tight against your cervix, desperate in its attempt to adjust to his girth. It’s really sweet, the way your body splits itself open for him, cracking at the core and struggling to swallow him down.

“Oh, it’s so big, onii-chan!”

“God,” he nearly sobs. “You’re gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, y’know that?”

Giggling, you wind your arms around his neck tighter, nuzzling your cheek into his skin, then stringing a garland of wet kisses along the line of his jaw.

“S’really thick, Choso-nii,” you tell him honestly, nodding in lethargic little motions. “I feel so full, onii-chan.”

A laugh falls from his lips, breathy and exalted.

“I don’t know if it’s that I’m big, or if it’s just that your cunt is so fucking small,” his voice tapers off into a whine, raspy and gruff.

“H-Hurts a little, onii-chan,” you admit in a whimper, hips shifting in experimental little movements, conjuring a groan from deep within his chest.

“Yeah? And who’s fault is that, huh?” he asks for the second time in fifteen minutes. “Who was too impatient to let onii-chan prep her?”

“Don’t care,” you mumble. “Wanted you s’bad.”

He laughs again, warm and gentle and full of love, his hands squeezing your hips just enough to make you gasp, fingertips pressing his name into your flesh in blotchy little ovals of purple.

“You have me,” he says, his words ringing clear and true with a painful sincerity.

The vibrations of your responding hum seep from your chest into his, and he sighs, body deflating against yours, pleasant little tingles snuggling between his ribs.

You stay like that for a moment to two, wound up in one another, chests pressed flush, breathing as one. Your auras ebb and flow, presences bleeding, tangling together and creating something that is neither one nor the other but both, a single shared entity.

And it’s nice, it’s real, it’s natural.

But then you become impatient, as you normally do, as he knew you would, wiggling a little in his lap, fingers twining in the strands at the base of his neck.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he urges gently. “Ride onii-chan’s cock.”

And so you do, hips beginning to roll in slow, languid circles, fingers still laced at the back of his skull, half-buried in messy ink.

He allows you to set the pace, allows you to take your time, allows you to enjoy and savour every rock and grind and bounce, staring at you through heavily lidded eyes, hands on your waist merely guiding you—keeping you stable, just like a big brother should.

He’s absolutely breathtaking; gaze glittering in the dim light overflowing with awe, spit-slicked lips licked raw and shimmering as his tongue glides over them again, swollen and bitten cherry red.

You can’t help but reach out to trace his features; the strong line of his brow, the delicate curve of his cheek, the enticing bow of his lips, hips slowing to uneven little ruts as you hone your focus, his eyes observing you with a sick sort of fascination.

“Did you—Have you—Have you thought about this before?”

The question stings his tongue, revulsion flushing through his blood as guilt pricks his flesh, his cock throbbing eagerly.

“Course I have,” you breathe out with a little laugh, as if he’s so silly for thinking you might not have. “Actually, I—I—”

A sudden shyness overtakes you, an unsure giggle on your lips fading into a soft squeal as you hide in his shoulder, shaking your head a little.

“What? Huh?” he shrugs, nudging your face up gently, curiosity clawing at his irises as they search your face, voracious. “What?”

“Well, sometimes I…”

The words tangle in your throat and you choke on them, gaze fleeing his own, and you shake your head again, chest beginning to stammer.

“It’s okay,” he says softly, rubbing reassuring circles into your flesh. “You can tell onii-chan, go on.”

There are tears in your eyes now, mouth wobbling a little with the verging confession, and God, that’s so hot, why is that so fucking hot?

“Where’s my brave little sister gone now? Hmm?”

“M’right here, onii-chan,” you whisper, face teetering on a wince, as if you’re bracing for a blow, terrified to admit to him, fearing reprimand. “It’s just that—Sometimes I do, um, really bad things with my stuffies while—while thinking about you…”

Dewdrops of shame glitter in your lashes as your lids flutter, nose scrunching with a soft sniffle, tears breaking free of their wispy confines to roll down your cheeks in fat, glimmering streams—so fucking beautiful in the dim light of his bedroom—but you don’t dare break his stare, gazing at him through a thick shield of water.

“Oh, Christ,” he coughs on the curse, hands flexing on your waist, blunt nails digging into your skin. “And what—what do you think about?”

“Um,” your gaze flits from his own, to his wrinkled bedspread, then back to his face, wide and honest. “Riding you, like this. And—And riding your thighs, makin’ a real mess all over them, and your thick fingers too, filling me up…”

Bolts of dizziness sear his brain as his lungs deflate, oxygen eaten up by pure lust and leaving his chest buzzing, burning, some sort of response mangling itself in his throat, escaping his lips as nothing more than a cracked moan.

“Do you think about me, onii-chan?”

Your question pulls him from the depths of his hedonism and he blinks, your face swimming into view, a peculiar mix of hope and cognizance infusing your expression, eyebrows raised with false curiosity, a smirk twitching on your lips.

Ah, there she is, that brat he knows so well, that brat he’s come to crave, every ounce of uncertainty eradicated from your face, replaced with assured confidence, contradicting the tears still staining your cheeks.

You fucking know he does.

And, oh, how he wishes he was stronger, how he wishes he could lie, how he wishes he could devour the smugness in your eyes and complacency in your smile, to humble you, to knock you from your high throne.

He settles for a kiss instead, mouth crushed to yours as a large hand cups your head, thumb pressing into your ear, fingertips dragging across your scalp as he yanks you closer.

It hurts, his front teeth scraping against your lip as he practically gnaws his way to your tongue, his own big and thick and so fucking strong as it overwhelms yours, shoving it further into the cavern of your mouth and forcing it to stay put as he explores.

He’s making a real mess as he slathers over your molars, over the inside of your cheeks and the backs of your teeth, drenching your mouth in him. Drool oozes steadily from the corners, collecting along the underside of his bottom lip and leaving his chin sticky and slick.

“Yes,” he whispers, eyes shut so tightly his whole forehead crinkles, mouth wet and sliding against your own. “Yes, yes, I think about you—much too often.”

Nose nudging yours, he nuzzles into your face a little, planting a chaste kiss to your lips, then peppering a few more, quick and sloppy, around your mouth.

“But right now, I don’t want to think about anything. I just want to feel you creaming all over my cock—you think you can do that for me, princess?” His palms cushion your cheeks, thumbs swiping across your cheekbones, then brushing strands of damp hair from your temples. “You think you can do that for your onii-chan?”

Yes you can, of course you can, you’re nodding, blinking the last remnants of tears from your eyes, rapid movement eliminating the final stubborn drops, clinging delicately to your outer lashes.

“S’it, baby,” he encourages as your hips start moving again, working up a steady rhythm. “Just like that, good girl.”

A mewl slips from your lips, burrowing your scalding face in his sticky neck again, his undivided attention almost too much to bear.

“Like it when you call me a good girl,” you murmur, lips dragging across his skin with the confession, streaking him with thick glimmers of spit.

“Is that so?” he laughs a little, pressing a few kisses to the crown of your head. “That’s because you don’t hear it often.”

Lifting your head, you scowl at him, though there’s no heat to your glare, fury dimmed by fondness, unable to smother the smile playing with your lips.

A dazzling smile spreads across his own face in response, and he laughs again, his eyes so bright, so brilliant they almost hurt, blazing like two small suns, scorching your skin as his gaze glides over it.

He watches you like a man possessed, a man obsessed, entirely entranced by the way pleasure passes over your face, twisting your features into the cutest little winces as you grind the head of his cock against your cervix, then smoothing them out with bliss as his shaft drags along your favourite spot, bouncing in shallow little motions to rub over that fleshy patch hard and fast, a stream of mewls spilling from your lips, stitched together with his honorific.

“You’re so pretty when you ride my cock,” he groans, words tapering off into a hoarse whimper, as if it pains him to admit it.

His palms run up your sides, fingers counting over each rib, hands committing every dip and curve and bulge to memory, marvelled by the way you fill his grip, as if he can’t believe you’re real, you’re here, you’re his—even if just for tonight.

“Yeah, yeah, keep going, use onii-chan like a toy, sweetheart.”

And he tries to be patient, he swears he does—tries not to rush you, tries to relish in the moment, in each swirl of your hips and every puff of his name—except your pace never accelerates, never moves past anything but teasing as you use his now aching cock to continually edge yourself; moans building higher and higher, louder and louder, on the cusp of the crest before they disintegrate into nothing and you start the process all over again, the delicate fluttering of your cunt enough to drive him fucking insane with desire.

It has his entire form trembling with such vigour it’s quivering the mattress, muscles locked stiff and tight as he tries to keep from moving, from bucking up wildly, from forcing you to speed the hell up. Rough fingers sink into your flesh so deep it dimples, a pathetic attempt to ground himself, rapidly blooming bruises staining your flesh.

But he’s powerless to stifle the whines leaking through the gaps of his gritted teeth, hands flexing on your hips, whole body pulled taut with restraint.

He’s sure you can feel his cock twitching inside of you, eager and impatient, begging you to move faster, to fuck him harder.

But you aren’t going to do any of that—not unless he asks for it, he realizes dimly, after you bring yourself to near orgasm for the third time in a row, giggling a little at his crestfallen expression, his hair having fallen almost completely from its trademark spiky buns, braided fishermen sweater soaked with sweat and sticking to his now heaving chest.

He really thought it was real this time. He really thought you were finally going to cream all over him, so he could finally flip you over and fuck you properly, pound you into the mattress and stuff that pretty, cute little cunt to the goddamn brim with his seed.

He’d been trying so hard to be nice, to be the loving, doting, good big brother he is—but he’s also only human, and there’s only so much misbehaviour he can bear before, finally, he snaps.

Because, sure, big brothers are meant to care for, to lead and to nurture, but they’re also meant to teach, to punish, to put bratty little sisters back in their fucking place.

“You think I don’t know what you’re doing? Huh?” his grip on your hips tightens, halting you from moving. “You think I’m fucking stupid?”

“Never, Choso-nii,” you gasp, astonished. “I would never—”

Sincerity rings in your voice, but he can see it, the mischief tugging at the corners of your mouth, barely suppressed by your façade of innocence.

Anyone else would’ve been fooled—enchanted by your doe eyes and your dainty voice.

But not him.

No, he knows better now.

“Bullshit,” he cuts you off, eyes narrowed sharply. “You wanted to ride my cock, but you’re clearly incapable of it—”

“No I’m not!”

“—So it looks like I’ll have to take matters into my own hands.”

“No! I—I can do it!” you cry, face crumpled in fury, nails scrabbling at his shoulders.

“You lost your chance to prove it to me,” he growls.

The world flips suddenly, momentarily a blur of inks and ivories, a breath of surprise punched from your ribs as your back slams against the mattress, trapped between the bedspread and your big brother’s heaving chest.

“You have been testing me all fucking holiday,” he snarls, specks of spit splattering across your cheeks. “Onii-chan shouldn’t give you his cum—onii-chan shouldn’t have given you his cock at all!”

A certain type of haughtiness corrodes your shock, lips spreading into a pompous smirk.

“Oh, but you just couldn’t help yourself, could you, onii-chan.”

“You little bitch!”

His hips shove forward, forcing you further into the plush of the mattress, cockhead ramming against your cervix. A little noise of pain vibrates on the back of your tongue, shattering your arrogance, and a grin smears across his face, glinting in the moonlight.

“I think it’s time your big brother teach you a lesson in respect.”

“Y-Yeah? And how are you gonna do that?”

“You’re going to take what onii-chan gives you, and you’re going to fucking like it. And then, at the end, when you’ve gone stupid from the cock you don’t deserve, you’re going to thank me for giving it to you at all. Do you understand me?”

Defiance shines in your eyes, lacquered by a thin coating of tears, nose scrunching up in a glower.

A rough thumb and forefinger, hardened by charcoals, clamps around your jaw, squeezing your cheeks with such force that your mouth puckers, a sticky little whine squealing in your throat.

“Do you understand me?” he asks again, each word said slow with purpose, each word annunciated with intent, his eyes boring into yours, sharp and painful.

Finally, those tears push past your bloated lashes, shoved from your eyes by rapid blinking and rolling down your cheeks in glistening pairs, a half-stifled hiccup stuttering your chest.

“Y-Yes,” you whisper, nose twitching.

“What was that? Onii-chan couldn’t hear you.”

“Yes, onii-chan.”

“Good girl.”

And then his hips are snapping, hard and fast and immediate, fucking into you with such ruthlessness that it jostles your body up the bed, sheets collecting in little wrinkled bunches beneath you. Your nails sink into his shoulders, piercing flesh through the knit of his sweater, the muscles in your thighs tensing as your ankles hook around his waist, his shirt riding up, your heels digging into the those cute little dimples that cushion the base of his spine.

It hurts, every pound of his cock producing a dull, throbbing ache low and deep in your gut, another torrent of tears rushing to flood your vision.

“Ch-Choso-nii, Ch-Choso-nii,” you whimper, face screwed up in pain, his name stuttered by his rapid thrusts.

“What’s the matter?” he pouts, and it’s so condescending, dripping from his lips in an over-exaggerated coo. “Can’t take onii-chan’s cock?”

The question wafts across your face in a panted breath and you lick at your lips, sopping it up with your tongue.

“N-No,” you say, and that telltale brattiness is back, watered down by his viciousness. “I can do it—I-I can do it for you, onii-chan.”

A throaty curse escapes his lips, thrusts stammering out of rhythm for a moment as his cock twitches, and a helpless giggle bubbles up in your throat.

Even angry, he’s still so fucking easy.

He regains his composure quickly, though, face hardened to stone but beginning to splinter with pleasure.

“Brat,” he breathes out, though there’s mirth shining in his eyes, pure and fond and full of love. “You better.”

And even angry, he still sounds so fucking pretty; cracked moans and dense groans and choked gasps, all flowing from his mouth in a single stream, fractured by the piston of his hips.

The pain doesn’t fade, of course—it barely diminishes at all, the sheer massiveness of his cock making it near impossible to be dispelled, keeping the cramping pang in the pit of your belly steady and constant—but it does amplify the pleasure, nerves gnawed raw by the agony, left hypersensitive to the sparks of ecstasy that blaze through your veins with every quick, rough pump of his hips, every deep, hard slam against your bruised cervix, every rapid drag over that engorged spot.

It leaves you feeling high, leaves you feeling stupid, brain melting in a hot haze of lust and rendering you incapable of forming a single coherent thought beyond how incredible his cock is, his name and his title the only two things your sloppy, numb tongue can fully scrape together.

It’s all so much, too much, but it all feels so fucking good—s’good, Choso-nii, y’r so-so good—sentiment vibrating indistinctly in your chest.

“Yeah, sweetheart?” he asks, words gone wispy, fading into a whine. “Does your onii-chan’s cock make you feel good?”

Yes, yes, yes, onii-chan, it’s so good, you’re so good!

Your head nods frantically, fingers curling in the collar of his sweater, a mess of affirmatives fucked from your mouth.

“Y’know, you’re kinda cute when you’re too cockdrunk to misbehave,” he chuckles a little, biting back a moan as your cunt clenches at the compliment. “May-Maybe onii-chan should fuck you stupid more often, huh?”

Oh, God, yes, onii-chan; oh, please, onii-chan!

“Yeah, you’d like that a bit too much, though, wouldn’t you, you little sl—ah—slut.”

Drool dribbles from the sides of your mouth as you continue nodding, eyes wide and unblinking, encrusted with stars.

“Y’so pretty, onii-chan,” you manage to mumble out, sentiment tangled in threads of spit, fingers flexing in the fabric of his sweater, as if they yearn to touch but can’t find the strength to carry out the action.

And he is, so beautiful it’s borderline sickening, strands of onyx plastered to his cheeks, his jaw, his neck, strung together in clumps and saturated in sweat; damp skin glittering in the waning moonlight spilling through the slits of his window, dewdrops catching delicately in the beams as he pounds into you, every drive of his cock accelerating his pace.

“W-Wan’your cum now,” you slur the demand through a lax pout, lids beginning to weight with exhaustion, heavy as they frame dopey eyes.

“Yeah?” he laughs a little, gaze shining with adoration, and it’s breathless, it’s beautiful, his affection wafting over your scalding face. “Onii-chan needs you to cream all over his cock first. Can you—” a grunt cuts him off, and he whimpers, pushing through his sentence, his voice strained. “Can y’do that for me, angel?”

“Uh-huh, uh—uh-huh,” your head begins nodding more fervently again, pushing your lids open with some effort to stare up at him, pupils swelling with devotion and determination.

“Then show me—Show me how gorgeous my good girl looks when she’s making a mess all over her big brother’s cock.”

Three more thrusts and your cunt is obeying, convulsing on his thick shaft as heat gushes around him, so much that you can hear it—a sick, slick squelching as he jackhammers into you, your essence coating his thighs in a shiny layer of arousal.

“Oh, fuck,” his eyes shut tightly before springing open again, suddenly rabid, ravenous.

The bed creaks as his hips speed up, skin sticky with arousal as it slaps against your own, the sharp sound mingling with his ragged pants and your hitched mewls.

“Onii—Nii-chan,” you nearly wail, fingers tangling weakly in the hair at the nape of his neck, nails scraping against his flesh. “Please, please, cum, gimme—gimme y’r cum!”

“Greedy little thing,” he rasps out, voice cracking into a whine.

But you don’t care, you can’t care, pleads spilling from your lips as your thighs tense around his waist, hips twitching in erratic little motions, crudely trying to fuck yourself on him.

“Need it, need it, onii-chan, fill my belly with it, onii-chan, please!”

“Christ,” he chokes on the curse, pace faltering as he finally gives his baby sister what she wants, cock throbbing almost violently while it fills you with hot, thick cum, so much you swear you really can feel it, stuffing your belly as full as it can be, tummy bulging cutely with his seed.

You must tell him that, sentiment slipping from your lips without your permission, because he moans again, his cock giving another weak spurt, hips stuttering as he tries to fuck further into you, grinding the head into your sore cervix.

“Yeah, yeah,” you’re murmuring, hips rolling up to meet his own. “Push it into me, onii-chan, push it into my cunt nice n deep, do-don’t waste a single drop!”

“You really are gonna be the death of me,” he whines, face buried in your hair as he collapses on top of you, hips still moving in lazy little circles, shudders of overstimulation rippling through his form.

“Mm,” you hum, on the cusp of unconsciousness, nuzzling your face into his neck like a kitten, then lapping at a few droplets of sweat streaming down the column. “What are lil sisters for?”

#choso x reader #choso smut #choso x you #choso kamo x reader #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x you #this ended up being waaaay longer than i originally indended #absolutely no one is surprised #tw:pseudocest

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rendy-a · 2 months

Note

Omg the courting fics with Malleus and Sebek were really cute! Could you make something like that with the Octatrio?

I had every intention of writing for all 3 members of Octavinelle but the Azul piece ended up being so long that I thought I’d just post that.

You’d been avoiding Azul for days now and you knew that, sooner or later, your luck would run out on that front. Why were you avoiding him? Not even you were sure; you just knew that he was looking for you. In your limited experience with the suave dorm leader of Octavinelle, you’d come to learn that the more Azul wanted to speak with you, the riskier the deal would be. When you turned the corner and saw Azul waiting for you at the top of the stairs, you knew your luck had run out. This hallway was the only way to reach your alchemy class and you were running far too late to wait him out.

You grimaced as Azul gives you a confident smirk, both of you knowing he’d had you trapped. Finally, you sigh, “Five minutes, Ashengrotto. I’ll give you five minutes.” His mask of confidence waivers and you sense the relief behind the façade. “That will be more than enough to start with. Thank you for your consideration, Prefect.” Then he clears his throat nervously before beginning to move. He rolls his hands around each other while alternating leg shakes. You can hear him quietly counting to himself. After a few moments, he is finished and looks at you expectantly.

“Ah?” you let out a questioning sound. He covers his embarrassment with a cough and explains, “It was a dance.” You know your eyes are open wide and you suspect your mouth is hanging open, but you still manage to stammer, “I…I see?” You did not see. After a few more moments of silence, Azul clears his throat again and wishes you a pleasant class before sliding past you and down the staircase. What was that all about?

The next time you encountered Azul, it was coming back from flight class. He seemed as startled as you at the meeting. With the memory of your last meeting still fresh in your mind, you thought you’d try to just quickly excuse yourself. “Ah, I’ll just be passing on your left, ok?” Before you could pass him though he interrupts, “Prefect, if I may, another moment of your time?” You cringe a little, “Oh, s.sure? I guess. What…what’s up?” He visibly braces himself before he starts moving. This time it was mostly arms moving at certain times and angles. It almost felt familiar and after a moment, you had it. “Is this that dance from Magicam?” Cater had shown you a video of the viral dance moves that were sweeping Magicam currently and you were fairly certain this was an interpretation of that.

He finishes by striking a pose that seems perfectly fit for a photo. You clap politely and ask, “Are you practicing for your Magicam account? Going to have the whole lounge staff join you or something.” He frowns slightly, “No Prefect, that was not my intention.” Then he turns his face to the side, and you notice a red creeping up on the tips of his ears, “This is more of a personal performance goal.” You hold up your hand, gesturing toward him, “Well that was pretty good. I think you are on your way to that goal.” He looks very relieved at your reply, “Is..is that so?” Then he gathers his composure and bows his head a little, “Well, I thank you for your notice.” You wait a moment to see if he has more to say, but he continues to just look at you expectantly. Finally, you fidget a little and remind him, “Well, I should be going. Class and all.” You wave and turn to jog away and back to your next class.

It was a hard day of studying when you wandered over to Mostro Lounge to have a small dessert as a reward for your long session. Looking up from your tea and cake, you see Azul across the room speaking to the students staffing the bar. The confident business Azul strikes you in comparison to the awkward Azul you’ve been interacting with these past few days. He gestures with his hands to finish off whatever direction he was giving, and you suddenly decide to approach him and say hello. You slide up behind him and place a hand on his back, “Hey Azul, nice to see you again.” He turns to gaze at you coldly, muttering, “Prefect?” Then his eyes widen and he sputters, “Pre..Prefect! What are you doing here?”

Instead of responding, you decide to give him a moment to gather his thoughts and composure. He quickly does and dons his usual suave persona, “I mean, why how wonderful to have you dine with us this evening, Prefect. You should have told me you were coming, and I’d have been certain to save you a table by the window.” You smile at the quick change in tone, “Oh that is fine, I just came over to see you, Azul.” He flushes a touch along his checks, “M..me?” You lean in and whisper, “Yes, you’ve really tried hard lately to catch my attention, so I thought I’d reward you by giving it to you.”

He looks shocked by your statement for a moment before leaning in to whisper carefully, “You’ve noticed then?” He looks around at the number of interested eyes on your conversation, “Ah, this is not the best place for conversation, Prefect, won’t you follow me to somewhere more suitable for this conversation?” You nod and turn to head to his private office, but he lays a hand on your arm quickly, “No, not in there. I have a better place.” So, you allow yourself to be escorted from the lounge and down into the corridors of Octavinelle. “Sometimes, it’s nice to get away from work,” he comments softly.

You smile gently, thinking about how you’ve just discovered a new side to the serious Azul you know. You’ve been doing that more often lately; you think as you remember the strange dances you’ve seen him attempting. As if thinking a similar thought, Azul asks, “I hope I haven’t been too distracting for you lately, Prefect.” You smile, “I wouldn’t say distracting is the word. It was more like memorable.” He gasps and squeezes your arm a touch tighter, “Is..is that so…” before muttering under his breath, “so it is working after all…” You ponder out loud, “Although you seem to be not quite used to dancing. Is it because you aren’t used to being on land?” Azul halts, causing you to also need to stop. He seems lost in thought as he mulls over your question. You continue to quietly observe him, and he finally notices your gaze, “On second thought, Prefect,” he begins hesitantly, “I think I have something special to show you.”

He pivots on his heel and pulls you toward a different hallway leading deeper into the dorm. You hesitate but seeing his nervous smile, give in and follow along. He takes you past the public lounges and study rooms and toward a corridor that smelt strongly of salt and sea. You figured this must lead to the very edges of the dorm and the water beyond. As if to confirm your thoughts, Azul pulls you into a locker room and shows you where you can change into borrowed swimwear. You wonder for a moment how they can possibly have something that fits you and that just happens to be sitting around but, after pulling the garment on, it conforms to fit perfectly and you realize the answer is, of course, magic.

You pull a towel across your shoulders and head into the adjoining pool room. The near end of the pool was shallow enough to step into, but the far end disappears into the gloom. From the rhythmic way the water moved, it was clear that the pool connected to the sea outside. You hadn’t realized Octavinelle had such an exit into the sea, but you supposed considering the location, it made sense. “There are potions in the cabinet to your left,” comes a voice from the deep end of the pool. You suppose Azul must be above water for you to hear his voice but any bit of him you could glimpse was hidden by the darkness of the deep sea beyond. You pull a familiar potion from the cabinet. It seemed not so long ago you’d used such a potion to visit Atlantica Museum to satisfy the bet you’d made with Azul. “Are you sure its not too late to swim all the way outside? Maybe we could have a nice night just swimming in here,” you say as you swirl the potion around in the flask, looking at it meditatively. “We’ll be fine. There are lights here and there once you get past the dorm. I know a good spot for an evening swim. I am Dorm Leader of Octavinelle, after all.” You supposed that was true, so you uncorked the bottle and swallowed the potion down.

You head hesitantly into the pool and hear a voice when you are below the waves, “This way Prefect, don’t be frightened.” You follow the pool down as the tile floor gives way to cement and then finally just the seafloor. You reach the opening at the far side of the pool and poke your head out cautiously. As promised, there were lights here and there once you exited the dorm. The light they gave off didn’t appear to travel as far as you’d suspect underwater. You look about, unsure of where to go when you hear Azul call again from beyond the nearest light. You swim in that direction and the sound of his voice guides you away from the dorm and to a nearby reef.

You gaze in interest at the colorful corals when you hear Azul’s voice right at your ear, “You should hold onto one. Humans are buoyant and have difficulties staying on the seafloor.” You take his advice and grab hold of a nearby coral to help keep you stead as you float weightlessly on the seafloor. You turn to thank him and are caught speechless at the sight. You’d seen Azul in his merform only once before, during his overblot. Now, without the imminent danger of rampant magical warfare, you had the chance to really take him in. The blackness of his tentacles crept up to his chest and turned to cover his arms. You thought offhandedly he looked like he was dressed in a sleek suit with no shirt beneath it. That wasn’t what was most eye-catching though, in the darkness of the sea, the underside of each tentacle had a bioluminescent glow that highlighted each sucker and edge.

“Stay there and watch,” Azul asked gently. You could only nod mutely as the swaying of his glowing limbs mesmerized you. Then the movement of his tentacles increased until you realized it was no longer motion from the sea but a purposeful cadence from Azul himself. You watched them move in captivated silence until you realized you were seeing another dance from him, a dance from under the sea. You had no idea how long it lasted, you sat holding onto the coral and gazing at his display in quiet awe until finally you realized the gentle swaying of his luminous limbs was merely the motion of the waves once again. You look up and meet his curious eyes, “Do you approve?” he asks simply.

You tilt your head and smile up at him, “What was that? It was so beautiful. I’ve never seen such a thing.” He reaches out a hand before lowering it slowly. Then, with a few flicks of his tentacles, he manages to settle himself on the seafloor next to you. “It was a dance, an octomer dance.” You carefully reach out and set one tentative finger on the nearest tentacle, feeling the strange texture of it under your digit, “I wouldn’t have taken you for such a good dancer. Not after those attempts on land.” He laughs shallowly in a self-mocking way, “Grandmother insisted I learn the traditional dances. ‘Don’t underestimate the importance of body language,’ she always said.” Your smile turns a bit coy as you reply, “Well, I’m not sure what your body was trying to say there but I was definitely listening.” He turns a hopeful look to you, “Does that mean you’d like to stay a bit longer and chat?” Finally, you felt like Azul had made you a deal that captured your full attention.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul ashengrotto

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cherry-leclerc · 3 months

Text

method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series - humor, strangers to friends/roommates

word count: 5.1k

cherry here!... first req that turns into a mini series and I'M SO EXCITED. the idea was perfect and i really hope you all enjoy this little story based off one of the best films :) common changes and adjustments are made for the plot but HAPPY READING

*can you guess what film it's based off of? where the title originates from?

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six

Chapter 1

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

Parents know best - at least that’s what we’re all told growing up. How about bioengineering? Cardiothoracic surgeon? Architecture? With braces and a messy fishtail, you shake your head profusely as you clutch onto your notebook.

"No. Journalism."

“Why didn’t I listen to my mom?” Groaning, you rub your tired hands all over your face as your roommate stares back, bewildered by your sudden frustration.

“You’re telling me doing open heart surgery would have been better than writing an article?”

Aiming a pencil at her, you gasp as you cover your mouth and she squints her brown eyes at you. “I am so sorry!” Running up, you hug her desperately. “I’m just stressed, I’m stressed, I’m stressed!” You pull away. “I’m stressed.”

Amelia chuckles as she sits down on a stool, pointing for you to do the same. “You, my serial killer friend, need a break.” You frown at her choice of words. If I take a break then I’m going to get fired. She smiles brightly. “You won’t though.”

You can distinctively pinpoint the moment a ripped up journal turned into a laptop. It was senior year of highschool and you finally had the courage to confront your parents and tell them that you, if fact, were not joking about your bachelors in journalism.

"Darling, how will you make a living out of something like that?"

For a moment, her words had you second guessing your choices. Could she be onto something? Know something perhaps you don’t? The older, the wiser, no?

But you had already applied - it was done. So you tipped your head firmly, clicked your tongue against your straight teeth, and smiled.

"I’ll find a way."

You moan softly as you hit your forehead with the palm of your hand. “What I would give to just be an elementary school teacher…Grading papers, cute kids-”

“Shit everywhere, tantrums, headaches, signs of early aging - oh God - receding hairline!” Amelia pales as she scrunches her nose in disgust. “Nightmare.” The blonde reaches for your hands, intertwining her fingers into yours. “But this is your dream, it’s what you're good at. Don’t let a little writer's block scare you away.”

“Goodness gracious! Are you alright?” Lucy’s southern accent surprises you as you fix your crutches. The older lady had been working at the famous magazine company since you can remember, always a cheerful receptionist. Loud, too.

You wince. “Oh, you know…clumsy me?”

"Eleanor is never going to let me take a vacation. I would have to die first."

Amelia’s eyes twinkle deviously.

"Then that’s what we’ll do."

"Die?"

“It’s okay, I could open it myself,” you yelp as Lucy swings the door to your boss’ office. Let me, she insists as she pushes you in. Tumbling, you hurry to fix your posture as you nervously giggle, beady eyes staring back at your rude interruption. “I had no idea you were in the middle of a meeting.”

Eleanor and a crowded room all look you up and down before she sighs. “You’re already here, what is it that you need?” You shudder at her cold tone.

“I- uh- I mean, if it’s possible, I was t-thinking I could maybe get a m-m-month off?”

Oh no, someone whispers as they catch the editor-in-cheifs face change. Your stomach drops. Or not, I’m fine! The gray haired lady stands up as she tauntingly makes her way over, circling you like a hungry lion. “And why do you need a month off?”

“Doctor’s orders?”

She hums, analyzing your casted leg and left arm. “I’m sure you can type with your right hand. Off you go.” You blink. Once she takes a seat, she narrows her eyes again. “I said you can go.”

“Of course. Have a nice day.”

"She’s going to see right through me," you repeat for the millionth time as Amelia's boyfriend, Roman, works on the fake casts.

She groans. "With that attitude she will! Get it together. You have to stand your ground and don't dare walk out of that office without a month off."

Terrified of your best friend, you nod. "Thank you again for this future doc, hope you don’t get fired."

He pales. "The things we do for the people we love, am I right?" Amelia blushes.

Letting out a shaky breath, you brace yourself before tripping and falling straight onto your back. The whole room gasps in shock as Eleanor stares back with a bored expression. Shit, are you okay? Peeking with one eye, you catch Grayson - Eleanor’s son - staring back with a helpful hand.

He had always been nice to you, bringing you coffee whenever he was around. Sometimes he even helped you brainstorm new ideas. Your heart rate accelerates as you struggle to get up. Mother, she can’t be working in this condition. She huffs as she waves her hand in dismissal, Dior bracelets clicking against one another.

A month. That’s it.

“Thank you,” you whisper as he helps you into your overly priced Uber. He tilts his head, slowly tracing your features.

“You're lying, aren’t you?” He signals at your poorly done cast.

“I c-can explain-”

He laughs. “Your secret's safe with me.” Reaching over, he buckles you. Your breath hitches. “Enjoy your time off. I’ll be waiting for you.”

“I’ll be waiting for you!” You swoon as you retell your embarrassing story to the cozy couple who cuddle on the couch like proud parents.

Amelia claps. “He’s the one! I feel it!” Roman scoffs. Settle down, daydreamers. Your friend slaps his hand. “Debbie Downer.” You giggle as she wiggles her eyebrows. “So…what are you going to do now that you're free?”

You tap your chin. “Um, probably write.”

Her smile falls. “This is the whole reason we even did any of this! For you to not think and just enjoy yourself!”

Her boyfriend nods, floppy hair bouncing up and down. “Yeah, I didn’t go through all that,” he signals to the casts that lay by the doorway, “Just for you to lay around doing what you always do.” He stands up to grab an apple. “Travel, I’m serious.”

Amalfi Coast. It called you poor in seven different languages as you tug your suitcase into your AirBnB. Amelia and Roman had sat through 8 hours of planning everything, detail and safety included.

"Oh, click that one!" Roman tsks his tongue as his fingers slide against the keypad. The blonde beams. "That’s perfect!"

"Perfectly out of my range," you sigh as you slap it shut. "I’ll die homeless if I stay there." The couple share a silent look before returning their attention.

"Well, we were thinking… " the brunette starts before your friend cuts him off, jumping up and down on his lap. He groans.

"Sorry, honey, but anyways, we’ll pay for it!" Your jaw drops as you wave your finger, shutting down the idea.

"There’s no way I’m going to let you guys do that-"

"Okay, maybe not all, but at least a good chunk of it," she butts in as Roman stays with a soft smile. "Isn’t that right? " He nods.

"Take it as an early birthday present," he adds. Your chest tightens at their kind gesture.

"That’s still a lot of money." You grow light headed.

"Then no birthday presents for two years," Amelia squeaks as she grabs your hands over the coffee table. "Just don’t say no, you need this." You debate inside your head for a few minutes before letting out a shaky breath.

"No birthday presents for the rest of my life and we have ourselves a deal."

Which is how you landed in one the most beautiful homes you think you will ever see in your entire life. You can’t even pretend to try and fit in because everything seems to make your eyes pop out of their sockets.

After a bit of unpacking, your sweet tooth gets the best out of you as you grab your purse and head out the door. You can’t help but take pictures at almost everything you see, but everyone was doing the same so there couldn’t be too much judgment. Paying for your lemon sorbet, you hum constantly as you stare into the ocean. The breeze was warm, but not obnoxiously so. The rocks underneath you tickle slightly as you get comfortable.

Then you hear it, light snores. Startled, you turn over as you catch a man sleeping, arm laying over his stomach. You think about maybe moving location but when he releases soft whimpers, you find yourself growing sympathetic. What if he was in trouble? You couldn’t let a person die if they were three feet away from you. Hesitantly, you crawl your way over as you tap his leg.

“Ciao,” you say, but you can only catch his nose scrunching up since he had a hat laying over him, covering his mysterious features. Biting down on your lip, you dig your finger harder. “Ciaooo.” Sitting up abruptly, he groans, shoulder bumping against your cone. You yelp before pouting at your treat melting all over the surface.

“Oh merda, colpa mia,” he apologizes as soon as he notices your gloomy mood. “Posso comprartene un altro se vuoi, ti prometto che non sono un serial killer-” Like a cat being bathed, you jump up high as you create a large distance.

“Serial killer?” you squeal. He catches onto your accent swiftly as he waved his hands in defense.

“I’m not! I’m not!” You eyed him suspiciously, chest heaving heavily. “I was offering to buy you another cone and saying that I’m not a sick serial killer, that’s all…” He signals to your desert. “I feel bad.”

Releasing a soft breath of relief, you smile politely. “Don’t worry about it. I was just trying to see if you were okay, you were kind of…” You theatrically twitch as he chuckles. Your cheeks burn up at the sound.

“I’m fine, thank you.” A beat. “Sort of.” Softly narrowed eyes stare back at him. Do you need anything? He winces at the bright sun. “I feel a bit sick, if I’m being honest.” He zigzags a bit before falling straight into the rocks, painful grunts following. You shriek as you run over, flipping him onto his back.

“Holy fuck, holy fuck.” Other than a cut up lip, he’s fine, but he groans like there’s no tomorrow. Rightfully so, you start panicking as you dab his bottom lip with the hem of your shirt, then you remove his hat.

“Don’t!” But you’re already tossing it over your shoulder as you analyze his bruised up cheek.

Green eyes look into yours as you stop breathing. His eyes are sensitive, like some sort of past soulmate, if you believe in that type of bullshit. His hair is rusty brown, long strands hitting up to his lashes. His nose is slightly pointy and it’s worse that they’ve always been your favorite kind. Lip swollen from his clumsiness, but a natural pink. Freckles and moles sprinkle along his face.

Scooting away, he raises finger over his lips, cryptically telling you to hush. Confused, you lay your palm against his cheekbone. “You need to see a doctor.” Now he becomes visibly bewildered as he cocks his head to the side. You don’t know who I am? Flushed, you extend your hand, introducing yourself. “And you are?”

The brunette lets out an unhinged laugh as his large hand swallows yours. “Charles, I- I m-my name is Charles.” Dimples pop up from how wide he’s smiling, and that almost leaves you gasping for air. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise.” Then he grabs his head in discomfort. “Seriously though, you need to see a doctor.” No, he starts. You roll your eyes. “Fine, a medico or whatever you want to call it.” Helping him up, he leans against you as you wheeze.

“I’m perfectly fine, I just need to sleep.” He pants against your head, catching a whiff of your shampoo scent. “Pretty,” he mumbles. You blush harder. “Do you think you can take me to the nearest hotel?”

“I don’t know if that's such a good idea,” you mutter. “Don’t take it the wrong way, but I don’t know you at all.” He shyly nods before removing his arm away from your figure, and all of a sudden it’s cold.

“I get it, don’t worry.” The green eyed boy waves goodbye before stumbling away.

You have always been a bit of a people pleaser, one of your many flaws. Amelia and Roman had always called you out on it, stopping you from making stupid decisions.

But Amelia and Roman weren't here.

“Wait.” Charles turns around, loopy eyes squinting at your blurry physique. Making your way over, you take his arm and place it over you. “You can stay with me, I’m just up that hill.”

“You can’t be helping out boujee vagrants,” your friends scold you over the phone as you grimace. “Why would you do that?”

You nibble on your painted nail. “I felt bad…”

Roman snickers before coming into frame. “What if he’s some kind of maniac?” Like a child, you shake your head.

“He said he wasn’t!”

The couple groan at your naiveness. “Boy, let’s just trust everyone we meet then!” The blonde pushes her face directly onto the screen. “You need to slap him awake and kick him out.”

But there was something so peaceful and homey about the way Charles was sleeping, covered like a butterfly in a cocoon. His chest rises up and down as he occasionally reaches for the other pillow, bringing towards his chest. With one last glaze, you leave the bedroom.

“I can’t do that to him. He was in really bad shape, you should have seen him.”

God can’t even help her, Roman grunts before strolling away. Amelia sighs. “Listen, I know you’re just being a good person, but you don’t even know this guy. We just want you to be safe.” I know, you mumble, chewing on your hoodie’s string. She tips her head. “Let him stay the night if you want, but tomorrow, he leaves. I’m not playing around.”

“Tomorrow,” you reassure her before hanging up.

He had slept for a day and a half and you were starting to get worried but after contemplating throwing his body over the balcony, he was stretching like a newborn baby. “That was the best nap I’ve had in years.” You chuckle awkwardly at the stranger.

“That was most definitely not a nap.”

He smiles. “Did you sleep well?”

“So good,” you respond quickly and he would have settled with that if it weren’t for your dark under eyes.

“Shit, you haven’t slept?”

“I did, I promise!” Green eyes reflect intently as you crumble. “Okay, I didn’t, but it was only for two days.” Two? You cringe. “There was just one bed and I didn’t know whether you were-” You trail off.

“Wasn’t what?”

Maroon paints your cheekbones. “A psycho killer…” You can tell he’s offended by the way he rubs the tip of his nose, as if he’s trying to ease the tension.

“I’m not the Monster of Florence or anything like that,” he mutters as you begin to apologize, watching as he sits far enough away just in case you feel the need to bolt out the door. “But I understand why you don’t trust me. We don’t know each other…So, why don’t we work on that?”

It takes about an hour for him to tell you what he considers the basics about his entire persona, and you rant about your upbringing. He frowns.

“That must have sucked. Not having parents who believe in you.” You flinch at his truthful words.

“I think they’re starting to get it,” you pathetically try but even he can see right through your weak excuse. Focusing your attention onto your twiddling thumbs, you exhale. “How did your parents react when you told them you wanted to be a mechanic?”

The Monegasque seems stunned for a nanosecond before munching on a blueberry and crossing his arms. “Their only priority was for me to be happy and doing what I love.” You smile sadly.

“Are you happy? Do you love it?”

“It’s my favorite thing in the world.”

You feel a giggle bubbling inside your throat with the way he speaks about his job, but then you’d be doing the exact same thing that others do to you. He coughs. “So tell me, you really faked an injury?”

Your stomach hurts from how much Charles was making you laugh and before either of you knew it, the sun had set. “Did we really just waste an entire day?”

“I don’t see it as wasting my day. I really like talking to you.”

Forcing yourself to look away, you untuck your legs from underneath your butt. “Wanna grab something to eat?”

There’s a comfortable silence that lingers between you both as you walk the busy streets of Amalfi. “Do you really need to wear a beanie? It’s burning hot.” Looking around, he shrugs and continues walking.

You settled on sharing a plate of pasta since it was almost bedtime and neither of you weren't that hungry. “Good, right?” he questions the moment you shut your eyes about the delicious taste. You hum.

“Free orgasm right here.”

Choking on his food, he quickly takes a sip of water as you smack his back. “I think I’m good now,” he squeaks as you smile timidly. You can feel the way he judges you as you devour your fair share, but you can’t help it. Connecting your gaze to his, he looks away as he drops his fork against the fancy plate. “Thank you for letting me stay the night.”

“Oh. Yeah, no problem.”

The brunette chews on his bottom lip. “It was nice getting to know you, really.” You blink back dazed as he continues. “I hope you enjoy the rest of your trip.”

“You’re leaving?” Even your inquiry shocks you as he smiles back warmly. I don’t want to interrupt. You’re looking for peace, remember? Trying to think of a quick enough excuse, you say, “Having someone to keep me company doesn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. I-I mean if you’re not busy.”

Under the table, you were crossing your fingers as he took in your offer. The brunette nods. “I guess it could be fun.”

“You did the right thing,” Amelia congratulates you the next time you call her. “Rather be safe than sorry.”

Just then, Charles walks in with a bag of peaches, grinning proudly as he makes his way over. “Agreed. Listen Amelia, I have to go. Adventure awaits! Tell Roman that I miss him! Talk to you later!” Hanging up, you greet your roommate. Awkwardly, he passes you the juicy fruit.

“Friend back home?” You hum, biting down. Taking a bite of his own, he bows his head. “You miss your boyfriend?” You stop chewing.

“Boyfriend? Oh, you mean Roman?” He clenches his jaw, then relaxes. You cackle loudly. “He’s my best friend's boyfriend,” you clarify. “We’re close - all of us.”

“Oh.” Tossing the seed away, he rises up to his full height. “Wanna see something cool?”

“You got insurance?” you joke as he covers your eyes, leading you mysteriously. You’re not going to get hurt or die if that’s what you’re worried about. You giggle. Okay, we’re here. Removing his hands, you take a minute to adjust your eyesight. “What the fu-”

“Cool, right?”

You scoff. “Cool? This is beautiful.” Running over to the cherry red Ferrari, you reach out before turning back to the 26 year old. He nods. Delicately, you brush your hand against the leather seats. “Where did you get this?”

“I know a guy.”

“Mafia leader?”

“Ha-ha,” he mocks as he unlocks it, going in to open the door. “Hop in.”

Humid wind sends your hair flying as you let out loud shrieks from the speed. You don’t know how he found such an isolated spot, but you don’t ask questions with how much you enjoy the thrill. “Again, again!” you cheer as he does professional donuts. The car comes to a halt as you fling forward and he stays as straight as can be.

“How about I teach you?”

“Okay, put the car in gear.” Following instructions, you listen attentively. “Turn the wheel and floor it, but make sure to be alert and keep your foot on the brake just in case.” Swinging harshly, you let out a scream. “It’s okay, try again.”

After a while, you still couldn’t get it down and your frustration was starting to show. But he was patient, spilling out different versions of advice. Twist sharply. Biting on your bottom lip, you huff before trying again. His words circle your mind as you drive the Ferrari straight ahead before turning the wheel and pressing down on the gas. Your adrenaline picks up when you realize what you had just done.

“That was perfect!” Raising his hand out for a high five, you squeal as you smack it hard. He hisses, but you’re on a roll.

“Hold on, Charles, you're in for a ride.”

Though his car is moving fast, the Monegasque feels as if he’s stuck in slow motion as he admires the way you control the Ferrari. He'd be lying if he said he didn’t find any of this attractive. It took you a while, sure, but your determination got to him as he kept his eyes trained on you, peeking over at you where you sat mumbling the steps over and over. Arms maneuvering the wheel flawlessly, knotted hair fanning your face. Stepping on the break, he barely has a moment to react before he slams right onto the dashboard. You wince.

“I should have warned you, crap! But you were doing so good! Your head would not move an inch.” Admiration paints your voice. Embarrassed, he rubs his temple.

“I got a bit distracted, but I’m fine.”

“Okay,” you mumble skeptically. Honking the prancing horse, you turn to him with a Cheshire Cat grin. “How about a drink, professor? My treat.”

“What’s the occasion?” the bartender asks as he fills two glasses of whiskey. I can do donuts now, you brag. His brows raise up in shock. “That’s impressive. It takes a good person to teach you.”

“It does, but lucky for me, I got it.” Discreetly you point over at Charles who sits with yet another baseball hat. “He’s pretty great.” The man's face drops as he leans against the table, getting closer to you.

“I’d say so! That’s Charles Leclerc.” Flabbergasted as to how he knows his name, you take the two drinks and raise them up as a silent thank you. “Free drinks on me if you need anymore, amore!”

On the way back to the small table, you ponder on the weird encounter. Had they met before? Perhaps Charles had fixed his car or something along the lines. Grazie, the Monegasque smiles as he takes a sip of the cool drink. You do the same, wide eyes shining at the taste. “Holy crap, this is good.” Swallowing the rest of the golden liquid, you signal at the bartender for the rest of the bottle. Nodding, he brings it over as Charles lowers his head, green eyes trained on his lap.

“It’s somehow sweet,” you narrate as you serve yourself another. “More?” He shakes his head, wavy hair following his movement. It’s the Italian charm. You hum against your cup. “Must be. Tastes like paradise.”

It’s safe to say that you were obsessed the minute you started growing tipsy. Squinting at the squawking girl who was pouring her heart out on the stage, microphone in hand, you snap your fingers loudly, jumping up. That. I want to do that! Your travel buddy chuckles. “You do?”

“Of course I do. Plus, my voice is all warmed up.” Massaging your throat, you march over at the little old lady who plays the tarnished piano. “Potrei cantare dopo?” She nods kindly before wrapping up the song. I have another one in me, the girl yelps as her friends pull her off stage.

“Oh great, a drunk removed for another drunk,” someone shouts out when you stumble on stage.

“Hey. Blame the delicious drinks!” Flipping through the book, you narrow your eyes. “This one,” you cheer excitedly as you whisper into her ear. She beams. No one ever asks for that one! Practicing against the keys, she nods as you twirl your way back on stage.

All eyes are on you as you play with the hem of your mini dress. Normally, you’d be a nervous wreck, and maybe the liquor helped, but you weren’t afraid of making a fool out of yourself.

“You got a fast car, I want a ticket to anywhere. Maybe we make a deal, maybe together we can get somewhere.” Soft keys echo through the small bar - for sure a guitar would have been better, but something about the familiar instrument makes Charles feel cozy as he listens to your voice. It isn’t perfect - you were drunk after all - but it was enough to make everyone listen closely like you were some divine object.

Swaying, with you smiling sheepishly as you move your eyes through the crowd of strangers, and you’re glad the green eyed boy isn’t one of them. Is it fast enough so we can fly away? The brunette grins at you as you spin in your dress, ponytail fluttering like grass in the gentle breeze.

“So I remember we were driving, driving in your car. Speed so fast, I felt like I was drunk. City lights lay out before us, and your arm felt nice wrapped ‘round my shoulder.”

There is some sort of unexplainable shift inside of you as you feel yourself sober up with his intense stare. His brows are drawn softly, listening to your sweet voice, as if you would disintegrate and never be seen or heard of again. A click - you just clicked.

“And I had a feeling that I belonged. I had a feeling I could be someone.”

Kicking the door wide open, Charles carries you in as he settles you on the bed. You flop around like a fish out their tank for good measure, then pout, bare feet pressing up against his clothed abs. He halts. “I need to change…take off all my makeup...” All of it, you mouth, droopy eyes struggling to stay open.

“I can get you what you need.” Last time he dug through a girl's suitcase, on a mission to find all her essentials, he had a girlfriend. Pushing away his thoughts, he jogs back over to your limp body. “Okay, here you-”

Curled up like a rolly polly, you breath gently as you sleep. The 26 year old isn’t too surprised, but rather confused. Does he just leave you now? Pacing the room, he nibbled down on his nails as he weighed his options. He could let you sleep peacefully and possibly get a beating in the morning for leaving you to rot with all the nastiness or he could get it done quick - not look twice - and maybe still get a beating.

“I’ll be fast,” he mutters to himself as he grabs your makeup wipes. He tries to be as ginger about it, a cool towel erasing your light makeup. As soon as you scrunch your face up like a baby rabbit, he stops and rushes away. Good enough.

Now comes the complicated part. Slip the dress off, change her into her jammies. Easy peasy. But the more he thinks about it, the more he’s unsure. One night with your outside clothes won’t kill you.

“Take it off, Charles, please,” you grumble as you tug on your dress. His Adam's Apple bobs up and down with panic as he nods to himself. Green eyes flicker the room before they land on his t-shirt. Oversized - would cover you whole - fast.

As if he’s being chased down by the police, he runs over and in a quick motion, slides your dress off before tugging his shirt over your head, dropping your passed out body onto the bed and throwing the duvets over you. Grazie, you murmur from underneath as he sighs.

“Don’t mention it.”

“Fucking hell,” you groan, clearly feeling the awful hangover. After promising to never drink again, you rub your eyes as you yawn, focus becoming drawn to the black shirt. Your stomach drops. No, no, no. Hurrying to look for your phone, you quickly unlock it before freezing.

Who is Charlz Leclerk? You can’t even recall when you must've searched this up, but Google definitely understood your investigation.

"Tell me, Nico," you pout as you take a sip of your whiskey as you wait for Charles to come out of the bathroom. "How do you know my friend's name?"

He beams excitedly. “Amore! He’s…” Blinking harshly, you try your best to listen and read his lips as he makes funny hand gestures. For a second, you swore he was swerving an invisible car. Waving his hand, he laughs. "Look him up."

Monegasque racing driver; Formula One; Currently racing for Scuderia Ferrari.

“What?” you whisper as you throw your phone away, eyeing it like the plague. No. Charles was a mechanic - a mechanic, for god sakes.

“Oh good, you’re awake.” He tosses you a paper bag. “It’s a sandwich. Eat.”

How can he even look at you and act like everything is okay? Did he do anything wrong? No, not really, but why would he keep this from you? You’re surprised to find yourself feeling hurt by his secretive actions as he stares back innocently.

“Is it not good?” he questions when you chomp down sadly. It is, you reassure with a mouthful. “Hey, I was thinking we could go for a swim. The weather is nice out.”

“Mhmm,” you respond meekly. “Is it okay if I meet you there? I-I was thinking I could rinse my body first.”

The brunette nods. “I can wait for you.”

“No!” You blush at your eager tone. “We’ll just meet up.” Okay? Grabbing his things and yours, he strolls out the door, but not before gifting you a small wink. Call me if you get lost. “Asshole!” you cry out as he chuckles, slamming the door behind him.

In a matter of seconds, you’re already dialing work. “Lucy! Is Eleanor there?” Sweetheart, how are you? How’s the leg? The arm? Do you need me to- “I’m fine. Can you connect me to Eleanor, it’s urgent.” The older lady giggles as she switches you over.

“This better be good.”

Clearing your throat, you fiddle with the hem of his shirt. “I have an exclusive.”

Eleanor’s rich and elegant voice scoffs. “What about your arm?”

“Like you said,” you hum. “I still got my right one."

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drewstarkeyslut · 3 months

Text

IN FOR IT ᡣ𐭩

ok babes, i'm literally doing something seriously out of my comfort zone. just a little something i guess....THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING so please keep that in mind + don’t come for me. i literally tried my fucking best — idk how to format or anything either so please don't judge. IM NERVOUS OK BYEE😂

Summary: rafe walks in on you masturbating, and he decides to put you to use.

Warnings: mdni nsfw 18+, oral sex (male receiving), throat fucking, daddy kink, choking.. use of slut/whore. idk what else? that's about it

you knew rafe would be home soon but waiting was not an option right now. you already waited all morning and quite honestly you wanted to get caught because you knew the exact reaction you would get from him.

you waste no time getting comfortable and taking your clothes off in a hurry. once you were sprawled out on the couch you reach down towards your pussy and start rubbing your clit in a circular motion. the only thing on your mind was rafe’s cock balls deep in your cunt.

“yes! yes! omg! rafe right there! feels s'good” you scream out which catches rafe’s attention as he enters the living room. he just came home not even five minutes after you started. he see’s you on the couch legs spread wide open, rubbing yourself to the thought of him. rafe smirks, head shaking as he walks towards you. "what do you think you're doing y/n?"

“rafe!? you’re home earlier than usual, i—i was just…so fucking horny i needed to feel you but i just couldn't wait any longer” you whine out, slightly embarrassed at being caught for the first time yet turned on at the same time.

the look rafe had in his eyes was unreadable, making you worry. you start closing your legs as fast as you could but rafe was faster. his strong hands pry your legs wide open as far as they would go.

“shut up y/n. i really don't want to hear it. don't feed me that bullshit.” rafe grits out, towering over your naked body.

“y’know i’m going to punish you for this but a slut like you would love that wouldn’t you? couldn’t even wait for me to come home. shit, just had to touch yourself like the fucking whore you are, yeah?" rafe groans in your ear as he harshly slaps your pussy.

“ahhhh! mmmm, i’m really sorry daddy i swear, was just thinking about you, missin' you…and i got carried away, that’s all..i know i wasn't supposed to touch myself without your permission" you start rambling.

“aw how sweet, you missin’ me? that’s real damn cute but ah ah, don’t think you’re getting off the hook so easily pretty girl, you want my cock that bad huh?” rafe smirks, eyes turning dark with lust.

“yes rafe, please, i need you, need your cock.. i don’t care, just need your cum r-right now so fucking bad. i’ll do anything please, wanna be your little cumslut” you beg, giving rafe pleading eyes.

he wastes no time undoing his belt and pulling his pants down just enough for his throbbing hard cock to spring free slapping his stomach, precum already dripping from his tip. you swear you could've came just from the sight of rafes perfect cock standing at attention for you.

rafe has zero patience as he grabs you by your throat, gripping you so hard it was sure to leave a mark. he pulls you down onto the floor on your knees. he lets go of your neck with aggression it made your head throw back a bit. you were sure you were close to passing out but thankful rafe let go of your neck when he did.

“we're not going to have any problems here now are we, y/n?” you're going to be a good girl for daddy and suck yeah? ” he groans, eyes darting from your lips to his hard length.

when rafe tells you to do something you always do as you’re told honestly scared of what could happen if you didn’t listen. you really didn’t want to find out either.

“hey, listen, daddy is talking to you, be a good little slut for me hmmm?" rafe jeers as he grabs your chin making you look up at him.

“yes daddy, going to be on my best behavior” you smile up at him licking your lips.

“that's what i thought, open that pretty little mouth of yours and put it to use, stick your tongue out” rafe demands.

you obey as he slaps the tip of his cock on your tongue. his salty precum coating your tongue, making you shiver, and leaving your pussy throbbing with need. the wetness from your cunt leaking down your thighs.

too horny at this point and knowing you weren’t going to be able to cum tonight, you start working his cock with both hands, twisting and tugging while licking and sucking his cock. your filthy little mouth going far down his length, taking as much as you could before gagging.

"god, you're such a fucking slut, i bet you’re soaking wet already and i didn't even touch you. look at you getting all cock drunk like the whore you are" rafe teases.

you remove your mouth from his cock, a string of spit that connected from your mouth to his shaft coming undone, making quite the mess. you were now officially cock drunk. licking stripes up and down his cock while stroking with both hands, alternating between licking and sucking, after each deep throat making sure to add the popping sound that rafe loved so much. it drove him wild.

for a slight moment you take the time to appreciate the view in front you. rafe's cock standing at attention just for you, smothered in both spit and precum, throbbing with intense need to empty his seed.

cupping his balls, you start to massage them making rafe gasp with pleasure. “you like that daddy? when i squeeze and lick them?” you tease as you start licking at his balls, giving them a little suck. rafe’s moans filling the room. this gives you more motivation and you start to ravish his cock while caressing his balls. your tongue is going absolutely feral all over his throbbing cock.

you are sucking him with extreme passion, your head starting to go dizzy. he is a moaning mess above you, mouth open, and head tilted back. he was completely blissed out turning you on even more.

you’re going to deep you start to choke. unable to breathe you try pulling away, but rafe grabs the back of your head and thrusts deeper into your mouth.

“this dick too big for you to handle, huh?” rafe laughs. you could only nod your head in response. “fuck, you’ll be fine, come on you got it baby. just like that. feels so fuckin’ good” you look up at him with red teary eyes and drool dripping from the sides of your mouth.

“god damn, you look so beautiful like this” he groans as he slaps your cheek and pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail. he starts guiding your head back and forth on his cock, slow but deep. he was in complete euphoria.

something about you looking up at him with those innocent doe eyes had him on the edge. he plants a kiss on your forehead then grabs the back of your head once more and starts to thrust into your mouth at a sloppy pace. he was fucking your face so brutally you definitely couldn’t breathe. rafe could care less, he just wanted to empty his warm seed down your throat.

things were getting real intense. you were a moaning mess, your moans vibrating down his shaft.

“oooh shit! don’t you fucking stop! i’m—i’m gonna cum y/n, fuuuuuck!!” rafe practically screams, room filled with his loud moans. his cock starts to pulsate as warm spurts of cum shoot down your throat.

you make sure to swallow every single drop because you can hear rafe in your head, “that's what good girls do, they swallow.”

“mmm, fuck rafe. tastes soo good, i swallowed it all, just for you. did i do good daddy?” you question rafe as you stare up at him with such an innocent look.

“always my good girl baby, now open that filthy, slutty mouth of yours and let me see and let me see” rafe demands as he grabs your chin and tilts your head back. you open your mouth showing him that every last drop of his cum had been swallowed.

“oh yeah, you’re daddy's good little cumslut. always making me feel so fuckin' good, and don’t worry i’m just getting started princess, not even done with you yet. take your sexy ass to the bedroom” rafe slaps your ass as you get up and start walking towards the hallway.

#my first fic🥹#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe cameron drabble #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron one shot #mdni divider creds: hitobaby

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

Text

falling is easy, catching is hard

rated m | also on ao3 cw: recreational drug use, implied sexual content tags: friends with benefits, secret relationship, shotgunning, mutual pining, getting together, love confessions

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @sidekick-hero!!! Sandy, you deserve the world, but this 3000 word thing will have to do for now 💖

💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗💗

December 19, 1985

Steve Harrington needed sleep.

Eddie Munson had the only thing that would put him to sleep.

But Eddie Munson also held a grudge, a reasonable one, but an annoying one.

“You want me to sell you the last of my good shit? For half price?” Eddie snorted. “You’re out of your damn mind, Harrington.”

“Munson, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t important,” Steve begged.

“Why would I do you any favors? You never did me any.”

Eddie crossed his arms over his chest, waiting somewhat impatiently for a response from Steve.

Steve didn’t have one.

Eddie was right; He didn’t really deserve a favor from someone who had let his friends make his first senior year absolutely miserable.

But Robin’s voice looped in his head: “Be vulnerable sometimes, Steve. People may surprise you.”

“Listen man, I just really need to sleep, alright? I’ve tried everything else.” Steve sighed. “This is pretty much my last hope.”

Which was a truth and a lie. He’d already tried smoking some weed, knew that it worked.

Eddie’s forehead creased in the middle.

That’s kinda cute, Steve thought to himself before shaking his head. Now wasn’t the time to get distracted by big, brown eyes and shiny lips.

“You been to a doctor?” Eddie asked.

“The sleeping pills make them worse.”

“Make what worse?” Eddie pushed.

“The nightmares.”

Eddie nodded once, understanding flitting across his face as he relaxed his arms by his sides.

“How long you been havin’ them?” Eddie asked as he walked around to the bench at the picnic table, opening his lunchbox.

“I guess…technically years. They’ve been worse since July though.” Steve knew he had to be careful about what he said, couldn’t give away more than what the public knew about what happened at the mall, but Eddie seemed trustworthy enough to handle this part. “Doctors said it’s normal for trauma or whatever.”

Eddie nodded, whispered something under his breath, and shuffled through his box.

“Forgot you worked at the mall over the summer. Kinda crazy what happened,” he said as he pulled a small discolored plastic bag from the box. “I’ll make you a one-time only deal, Stevie.”

Steve ignored the butterflies in his stomach at the nickname, kicked at the dirt under his feet, and gestured for Eddie to continue.

“I’m not giving my product away for half price. I’m a businessman and that’s not a smart financial decision for my business.” Eddie held up a hand when Steve looked like he was going to argue. “But! I will share a joint with you right here, right now, for free.”

“Um. What?”

“I was gonna smoke this one tonight as a celebration for passing all my first semester finals by the skin of my teeth. I don’t mind sharing if you don’t.” Eddie’s smirk made the butterflies even worse.

Steve was going to regret this.

God, he was so stupid.

“Yeah, okay.”

Smoking with Eddie the first time was nice, but the second, and third, and fourth times were even better.

— — — — — — —

January 16, 1986

“You’re late, Stevie. I was starting to worry you’d gotten frostbite.” Eddie’s smile warmed Steve from the inside out, the shiver wracking his body more to do with the growing fondness he had for the curly-haired man in front of him.

Eddie was bundled up like they were in Antarctica, and to be fair, it was below freezing outside right now.

Steve offered to meet somewhere else, but Eddie insisted they come to his usual spot.

And then Steve saw it: Eddie had built them a fire. It was small, he probably didn’t want to draw any attention from the road, but it was throwing heat that Steve craved.

“Come warm up before we get into it,” Eddie waved him over, his gloved hands looking out of place.

Steve was used to seeing shiny rings on his fingers, blisters on his fingertips from playing too much guitar.

Steve stood next to him in front of the fire, holding his own gloved hands out to try to warm his body as much as possible.

“Any reason I couldn’t just come to your house or something?” Steve asked, not quite getting rid of the attitude in his tone.

“My Uncle has tonight off. He’s a pretty chill guy, but I think actively watching me sell drugs to someone would maybe cause a heart attack.” Eddie sighed. “I told him I had a date tonight so I couldn’t really have you show up after that.”

“A date?” Steve grinned, nudging Eddie’s arm. “I didn’t even bring flowers.”

Eddie rolled his eyes, but looked away to cover a blush. “Yeah, well, don’t expect me to put out until there’s a dozen roses in my hand.”

He meant it as a joke surely, but something in Steve’s chest clenched at the thought of spoiling Eddie like that. Maybe not roses, that didn’t quite seem his style.

“I’ll try to remember them next time,” Steve managed to say, nearly choking on his own words.

What was he even doing? Flirting? Eddie didn’t even consider him a real friend, why would he want him to bring him flowers?

“Got a new strain tonight. It’s supposed to be a little stronger, but fades faster, so you should be good to drive back home in a couple hours.” Eddie pulled the baggie out of his pocket, lunchbox long gone after meeting twice a week for the last month.

Steve wasn’t really a customer anymore, no matter how they tried to keep up appearances that he was.

He still tipped Eddie, or tried to, but usually Eddie ignored it and just said it was a favor to help him sleep.

“How strong?” Steve finally asked as Eddie pulled the lighter from his pocket.

“Might make you a little floatier than usual. Not hallucinogenic, though.” Eddie knew he couldn’t handle that kind of trip. That’s why he stayed away from his other offerings. “I tested it out myself earlier this week.”

Steve wasn’t reading into that.

“Okay.” He fought off a shiver, this time from actually being cold. “Guess it’s worth a try.”

“I’ll drive you home if it’s too much.” Eddie’s offer was kind, going above and beyond what a dealer would do for a customer, but Steve wasn’t reading into it. “Or you can nap it off in the van for an hour or so before heading home. Whatever.”

Eddie lit the joint, breathing in long and slow, holding the smoke until Steve was sure he would pass out before slowly letting it out.

He handed the roll to Steve, who didn’t think about what Eddie meant by stronger, and took his normal pull, choking halfway through.

Eddie’s eyes widened as he took the joint from him, his hand grabbing onto Steve’s arm as he coughed.

“Jesus Christ, man, you good?” Eddie asked him.

“Yeah,” he coughed. “Sorry. It is a lot stronger.”

Eddie searched his face, relaxing as Steve’s breathing went back to normal. “Good?”

“Yeah.”

“Maybe take it slower?” Eddie teased. “Or- no never mind.”

“Or what?” Steve asked, already feeling the heaviness that came with smoking.

“Ever shotgunned before?”

Steve’s heart stopped. He’d venture to say he was even stone cold sober again after that question.

“Um. No.” He hadn’t. He’d wanted to with Nancy, figured it would be the only way she would be interested in trying weed, but it never worked out. “Would it be easier?”

“Yeah,” Eddie nodded. “Usually. We can give it a try if you want.”

Steve nodded before he really processed what he was being offered.

Eddie’s mouth would be very, very close to his. Possibly even on his.

And he’d be sharing breath with him, probably more than one if it worked.

Eddie pulled the picnic table closer to the fire and sat on the bench. He patted the seat next to him.

“Might as well get comfy, then,” Eddie said.

Steve sat next to him, close enough to feel the warmth coming from his side, close enough to hear Eddie’s hitched breath when they made contact.

Close enough to want to be closer.

“Alright, so I’ll start with a small one, and you just have to breathe in when I breathe out.”

“Is it-” Steve played with a loose thread on his gloves. “Your lips are gonna touch mine?”

Eddie suddenly looked nervous, like he regretted offering this at all, and Steve couldn’t allow that.

“I don’t mind! I mean, I want you to!” Steve panicked. “Like, it’s fine! I know we have to for the whole thing to work.”

“Yeah. Um, it’s not like, weird or anything. It’s just me helping you get high.”

It wasn’t weird, but it definitely was hot.

Eddie took a drag, leaned into Steve’s space, and cupped his jaw, tilting his head back for easier access.

Steve couldn’t breathe.

But he had to, that was the whole fucking point of doing this.

His lips parted and Eddie’s warmth coated him, covered him better than the fire.

He breathed in as Eddie breathed out, his hand seeking contact with anything solid to keep him on this earth.

He found it in Eddie’s hip, his fingers gripping tight as Eddie lingered beyond the point of the smoke clearing from his mouth to Steve’s.

Their lips brushed lightly, an agonizingly soft touch that Steve tried his best not to chase as it drifted away.

He bit back a whine at the loss, opening his eyes to see Eddie still surprisingly close, pupils huge.

It’s just the weed, Steve thought to himself.

It definitely wasn’t their almost-kiss.

Steve breathed out, swallowing once the smoke was gone from his mouth.

“Good?” Eddie asked.

Steve should answer him, should nod and thank him for doing this, maybe ask him for another hit so he could try to blame his fidgeting on being high.

But Steve wanted to kiss him.

Not shotgun, not barely brush lips, not act like this wasn’t something more than what it started as.

Robin told him he deserved nice things, and he deserved to be happy, and he did.

So Steve let himself try to have a nice thing.

“Again?” Steve asked, leaning in before Eddie had a chance to take a drag.

“Woah, big boy.” Eddie’s hands grabbed his shoulders, not pushing him away, but holding him back from making contact that he so desperately wanted. “Think that first hit might have gotten to you already. Let’s take a minute.”

“No, I-”

“Steve. You’re high.”

His tone was final, and something about the way his eyes darted away made Steve think that maybe this wasn’t the first time someone tried to make a move on him because he was giving them something.

He didn’t know Steve was into men, either.

Steve could just tell him, though. Let him know it’s not just the drugs, that he’d already had feelings for him before.

But the high was kicking in and Steve’s tongue felt like an iron weight.

“How about I get you some water?” Eddie asked, pulling away and walking swiftly to his van.

Steve didn’t protest. He did need some water.

Eddie sat on the other side of the table when he came back, handed over a bottle of water with a small smile, and watched as Steve gulped most of it down.

“This is good shit,” Steve admitted, slurring his words a little from the effort of moving his mouth. “Better than usual.”

“Yeah, it’s a nice treat once in a while.”

They sat in silence for another 30 minutes or so, though the time didn’t even feel like it was passing to Steve until Eddie stood up and guided him to the passenger seat of his van.

“Wha-?”

“I’m gonna drop you off at home. You got someone who can help you get your car tomorrow?” Eddie buckled his seatbelt, Steve tried not to be too endeared. “Maybe Buckley? Or Wheeler?”

Steve’s brows furrowed.

Nancy had barely talked to him in months, not since she gave him one awkward hug after Starcourt. Robin couldn’t drive, or at least said she couldn’t. That’s why he drove her to school and all of her work shifts.

“Maybe you could?” Steve suggested.

Eddie sighed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

— — — — — — —

February 14, 1986

Steve got him flowers.

He hadn’t seen him since the night he drove Steve home.

By the time Steve woke up the next morning, his car was parked in the driveway with a note on his keys that said ‘Promise there’s not a dent on her.’

And then Eddie had ignored his calls. He’d conveniently never been at his spot anytime Steve had ever met up with him before.

He couldn’t even pass a message through Dustin because Dustin was too curious for his own good and would probably figure out that Steve wanted to kiss him.

Which is all Steve thought about for the last month while he figured out what to do next.

Robin was no help at all, said he should just corner him after Hellfire one night and make a move if he wanted him so bad.

As if that could ever be an option.

This was his last chance, though.

He’d confirmed with one of his bandmates – Garrett, maybe? – that he didn’t have plans tonight and refused to sell on Valentine’s Day.

Steve stood in front of Eddie’s trailer, a bouquet of white and pink daisies in his hand, feeling particularly stupid.

The van was here, so Eddie was here, but Steve couldn’t bring himself to walk up the steps and knock on the door. This was maybe the most idiotic thing he’d ever done and he probably should leave before he was seen by someone.

“Steve?” Eddie opened the front door, confusion clear even from a distance. “The hell are you doing here?”

“I said I’d bring you flowers.”

He felt so dumb, standing here holding a bouquet of flowers for a guy who didn’t even want to sell drugs to him anymore. He considered dropping the flowers and making a run for it, but Eddie leaned against the door frame and scrunched his nose up.

Like he was trying not to smile.

Like maybe Steve did something right.

“Better bring them in so they can get water, then,” Eddie said with a hesitant smile.

Steve would take any type of smile, as long as it meant he wasn’t being sent away with his tail between his legs.

He rushed inside, didn’t think about the smell of Irish Spring coming off of Eddie, or the way his arm brushed against his side as he passed him.

Steve stood in Eddie’s trailer, taking in what Eddie called home, holding the flowers in front of him with hope.

Eddie closed the front door and walked over to him, holding his hand out.

“You didn’t have to get me flowers just for me to sell you drugs again, ya know.” Eddie smiled sadly. “I would have let you buy if you really needed it.”

“You won’t return my calls so how would you know if I needed it?” Steve countered.

“Ouch.” Eddie sucked a breath in through his teeth. “You’re right. I, uh, was giving you some space.”

“What made you think I wanted any?” Steve took the flowers back from Eddie’s hand, setting them on the coffee table behind him. “If I wanted space, I wouldn’t have bothered calling at all.”

“That’s what Wayne said, but-”

“Well, maybe you should’ve listened to Wayne.” Steve sighed. “I’m sorry I fucked things up by wanting to kiss you. I’m sorry if the flowers are too much. I’m sorry if I’m too much.”

Steve couldn’t look at Eddie after his confession, or his attempt at one. It may have been more of an apology, but he figured his intentions were clear enough.

“Steve. Stevie. Look at me.” Eddie cupped his cheeks, that familiar warmth covering Steve in safety. “You’re not too much. Don’t ever, ever let anyone tell you that you’re too much. You were so high, I didn’t wanna take advantage. I thought if I just left you to think about it long enough, you’d realize what happened was just from the weed.”

Steve shook his head, reaching his hands up to circle Eddie’s wrists. “It wasn’t just the weed. You’d know that if you let me talk to you before now.”

Eddie rubbed his thumb along his cheekbone, eyes dancing across the freckles that covered Steve’s surprisingly sun-kissed skin. “I’m sorry I didn’t let you explain.”

“You’re forgiven if you listen now,” Steve took a breath, letting his hands run down Eddie’s arms and settle on his hips. “I like you. A lot. Definitely more than a customer should, more than a friend should, maybe more than a regular boyfriend should. It’s okay if that’s too much, but it’s what I have to give.”

“You’re really something, Stevie.” Eddie leaned in, pressing his lips to the corner of Steve’s mouth. “I think I’ll take what you’re giving if that’s alright with you.”

“Please,” Steve breathed out as Eddie’s lips crushed against his fully.

Steve always felt so much, always gave so much, hardly ever had anyone who would take what he had to give.

But Eddie was taking it, forcing it from Steve to his own body, his own heart, like it was the only thing he wanted or needed.

“If you wanna buy tonight, you’re gonna be real disappointed,” Eddie gasped out against his lips when they came up for air minutes, maybe hours, later. “I don’t sell on major holidays.”

“Is Valentine’s Day a major holiday?” Steve asked, brows furrowing.

“It is when I get to have you in my bed.”

Steve’s eyes widened. “Oh.”

“That sound okay to you, big boy?” Eddie was smooth. Who could have possibly guessed?

Steve barely got out a ‘yes’ before Eddie was pulling him down the short hallway to his bedroom and rattling off things he wanted to do to him.

Steve Harrington probably wasn’t getting any sleep tonight.

But Eddie Munson would make it worth his while.

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #birthday fic

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ruporas · 11 months

Photo

pet names

[ID: Black and white comic of Vash and Wolfwood from Trigun Maximum. Vash overhears a conversation from a nearby table at the restaurant they're seated at, the unnamed character saying, "Honey, can you pass me that?" Their partner says, "Sure thing, angel." The unnamed character begins again, "Say, did you hear the news from earlier?" In response, "Haven't got the chance. Tell me about it?" Vash smiles fondly, listening in as the conversation continues, "You'd never guess, babe! The runner--" Abruptly, the conversation is cut in by a "Needle nogging", Vash's expression changing instantly and no longer smiling. The panel cuts to Wolfwood who smiles lop-sidedly, pointing at Vash's plate and says, "If you're not going to eat that. I'll take it." Vash grabs the plate and holds it away and says, "Mine" while Wolfwood clicks his tongue. He pauses for a moment before asking slowly, "Hey, is there any reason you don't use cute names with me?" Wolfwood lifts a cup of water up to his lips, looking confused. He says, "I do though." Vash cuts in, "Spikey and needle nogging aren't cute!"

Vash continues with a shy expression, "Since we're together now..." he trails off and Wolfwood picks up, taking a sip of water as he says thoughtfully, "Together, huh..." Vash pauses in his sentence with a look of confusion before reaffirming, "We are together, right?" Wolfwood nods, "Right." Vash says, "Right", before continuing, his shy expression returning, "Then you can use stuff like... honey or-" Wolfwood cuts in this time and says casually, "You're not a honey though." A panel cuts of Vash's expression changing again, shocked. He asks, "Huh? Then who is?" Wolfwood says immediately, "Milly." Vash exclaims, "Milly?!" Wolfwood continues, "She's sweet, just like honey." A bubble pops up of Milly smiling as Wolfwood speaks. Vash continues, "Okay, true... What about sweetpea?" Wolfwood responds, "Kids. Kids are sweetpea. And pumpkin too." Vash continues, "Okay... What about baby?" Wolfwood says without hesitation, "Meryl." Vash exclaims again, "Meryl?!" Wolfwood explains," Noisy, like a baby." Vash mutters, "Hey, that's a bit mean..."

Vash continues persistently, "Then what about babe?" Wolfwood shrugs with a grin, "You are not a babe." Vash looks at him, slightly frustrated before exclaiming with flushed cheeks, "Then what am I?!" Wolfwood points at his hair and smiles softly, "I told you. You're the one and only needle nogging." A panel closes in on Vash's widen eyes, cheeks still red, pausing before he ultimately resigns, planting his face into the palms of his hands and muttering, "I give up..." At the same time, Wolfwood sneaks and grabs the plate of food that Vash left unattended, saying in response, "You get up cuaght up about the dumbest things, y'know that?"

The comic then picks up again to a jump in time, after they've left the restaurant. Wolfwood muses to Vash, "You said all that about the names earlier, but I don't hear ya using them for me." Vash looks to him excitably and asks, "Did you want me to?" Wolfwood looks at him with an uncertain expression, "Not really, but I guess I am curious..." Vash beams, "Then let's try some, okay... dear?" He fingerguns Wolfwood with a grin, little hearts surrounding him. Wolfwood just looks at him neutrally and says, "Okay," while thinking to himself, "Cute..." Vash exclaims, "So unenthusiastic!"

The next comic picks up at a different time, but on the same theme of pet names. Vash hugs Wolfwood and says to him, "Thank you, my love." A panel close up of Vash steadily opening his eyes before he sees Wolfwood's reaction up close, his eyes glancing away, cheeks flushed, and the smoke out of his cig forming soft hearts as he mutters, "Sure..." In a smaller, cartoonish style, Vash has a comedically exaggerated expression of shock and widened eyes as he grips Wolfwood by the shoulders while Wolfwood still wears a shy expression. He then nudges his head to the side of Wolfwood's with a close eyed happy smile, hugging him close and says, "So, there WAS one you liked!" Wolfwood, still looking away, but now with an irritated and embarrassed expression, grumbles, "Shut up..."

The final image is a short sequence. Wolfwood is working on something, spacing out as he does, while Vash from off screen calls for him, starting with "Babeeee? Babe? Beautiful? Honey? My love?" All of which gets no reaction from Wolfwood. Vash pauses for a moment before piping up again, "wolfwood?" Wolfwood turns around, finally noticing that Vash was calling for him and asks, "What?" A box at the bottom of the page says, "Unresponsive to anything other than his names." END ID]

#vashwood #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #trigun #trigun maximum #ULTIMATELY the most convenient is to stick to needle noggin and wolfwood because it just makes the most sense to them. i also think the way #they refer to each other is such a like.. distancing manner at first.#because i think wolfwood DID call vash by his name at first right?? i mean it was spiraling from vash the stampede to vash and then to #spikey in that one town near the beginning of maximum #i dont know how to word it but the fact they call each other these particular monikers that dont get regularly echoed by others #IN PARTICULARLY needle noggin being SO specific to vash from wolfwood really pushes in the special place wolfwood has in vash's life.#wolfwood doesnt get the name wolfwood used for him often too. hes been called priest chapel nicholas nico....#but vash uses wolfwood out of all of them. kills me every time #its just like the safest name for him. the thing about wolfwood is that it still is universally used for him too. he introduces himself as #nicholas d wolfwood to others as seen from when he first met vash.... regular citizens or kids mightv called him mr wolfwood and stuff...#so it kind of settles itself as a name for the mundane for safety for comfort.#but then they call each other by their first names in vol 10 and i . shatter sfx. needle noggin and wolfwood are so Precious to them for #each other but they're capable of using each other's first names too in such a gentle manner. i mean when vash used nicholas #it was in comforting gesture too. nicholas is who melanie and the kids know and that nicholas is still very much there even pass #the bloodshed. and when ww uses vash so his family knows of vash and his identity and the safety the name vash reflects...

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fan-fantasies · 5 months

Text

Fragile

A/N: we’re only 10 followers away from 5400, so if you’re seeing this, please follow!

Pairing: Rhea x fem!Reader

Warnings: size kink, fingering, oral f receiving

Rhea Ripley: the bane of your existence.

Ever since you joined the raw roster it was like she made it her mission to humiliate you. She was always calling you cute and fragile, simply because you were smaller than her.

She liked to spar with you in training so she could throw you around like a rag doll. You didn’t mind the training so much as it helped strengthen your skills against bigger opponents.

“Hey, can I see you in my office?” Adam Pierce called to you as you walked by.

“What’s up, boss?” You asked.

“You have a match tonight against Rhea, it’s a contenders match,” he said.

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“Rhea requested it actually so you should thank her.”

“Huh, yeah, I’ll go do that,” you said.

Why would Rhea request a contenders match against you? That was out of character for her.

You found her in the locker room getting her gear ready for the show.

“Hey, doll,” she said with a smirk.

“I heard you requested a match against me tonight. So thanks, I guess. Just wondering if there’s an ulterior motive behind it?”

“No ulterior motive. You know I love getting to rough you up,” she shrugged.

“Yeah, in training. We’ve never had a match before though.”

Rhea stalked toward you with a sinister smile on her face. She backed you against the wall, towering over you.

“Now everyone gets to see what a fragile little doll you are. I can’t wait for everyone to watch me break you.”

Her voice sent a shiver down your spine.

“And what if I win?” You asked bravely. She let out a chuckle.”

“Oh, baby, I’m gonna ruin you,” she said in your ear. Your stomach did a flip and you felt yourself growing wet at her words.

She left you in the locker room to deal with your feelings. You could really use a cold shower but there wasn’t enough time. You had to get ready for the show to start.

When your name was announced against Rhea, the crowd went wild. The energy between the two of you was electric and they could all feel it.

She stood across the ring from you, staring you down with a hunger in her eyes. The bell sounded and you began to dance around one another.

You decided to take initiative and make the first move. You tried to kick out her legs but she dodged you and knocked you down effortlessly.

You got back up and charged at her, only for her to knock you down once more. She was toying with you and you knew it.

Before you could get back up, Rhea scooped you up and held you high in the air, her head between your legs. She looked up at you with a smirk.

“What a pretty view,” she said, before slamming you down on the mat.

You groaned and rolled over onto your stomach, needing a moment to catch your breath. Rhea climbed on top of you and grabbed a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back.

“Everyone’s watching, little one. They love when I throw you around like the doll you are.”

She quickly picked you up and folded you into a riptide, slamming you back down. She rolled you up and pinned you in her signature style, grinding her hips into your ass. She looked down at you with a smirk as she kept you in that position way after the three count had finished.

You were hurting for sure, but you had to admit that having Rhea manhandle you had turned you on.

You hobbled back to the locker room and decided it was time for that cold shower.

You grabbed a towel and chose the stall farthest from the door. The water soon hit your body and began to relax your frayed nerves.

Only a few minutes passed before you heard the door open. Footsteps were getting closer to you before the curtain of your stall was ripped open.

“Rhea!” You shrieked, trying to cover yourself up.

“Did you think you could get away from me that easily?” She asked, stepping under the stream, pressing you against the wall. “Cold shower, huh? Something got you hot and bothered?”

“N-no,” you lied. Her large hand wrapped around your throat.”

“Wanna try that again?”

“You, you have me hot and bothered.”

“That’s what I thought,” she smirked. With her free hand, she pinned yours above your head. She began to kiss and suck marks onto your neck, causing you to moan.

“Rhea, please,” you whined.

“So desperate for me already,” she chuckled. “I’m gonna take care of you, little one, don’t you worry.”

She slid a hand between your thighs and quickly found your clit with her fingers. She finally pressed her lips to yours in a searing kiss. Your head was spinning between feeling her lips and her fingers working wonders between your legs.

“I want you to cum for me, doll, make a mess on my hand,” she demanded.

A few more seconds with her fingers on your clit and your legs went weak beneath you. If it wasn’t for her having you pinned to the wall, you were sure you would’ve collapsed.

She swallowed your moans with a kiss and let you come down from your high slowly.

“I want you on your knees for me,” she said. You didn’t even question her as you sank down before her. She looked down at you with the biggest grin on her face.

“You’re gonna eat me out like a good girl, understand?”

“Yes,” you nodded. She threw a leg over your shoulder so you’d have better access. She reached down and threaded her fingers through your hair, pulling you flush with her pussy.

You licked a strip between her folds and she threw her head back. You focused on her clit, dipping into her entrance every now and again to gather more of her wetness. She tasted amazing and it caused you to moan.

“Are you enjoying this, doll? Such a good girl for me,” she sighed.

You could tell she was getting closer by the way her grip tightened on your hair. She began to fuck herself on your tongue and was quickly cumming, doing her best to quiet her moans.

She pulled you back up onto your feet and kissed you, wanting to taste herself on you.

“Fancy coming back to my place tonight? I’m not done ruining you yet,” she said, looking down at you, taking your smaller hand in hers.

“Only if you promise to stop calling me fragile.”

“We’ll see just how much you can handle then,” she said with a smirk. You knew you were in for a long night.

#rhea ripley #rhea ripley x reader #rhea ripley smut #wwe rhea ripley #rhea ripley fanfiction #rhea x reader #wwe #rhea ripley x reader smut

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yukyuki · 5 months

Text

A Drunk Inc(h)ident CL’16

summary- Charles and Y/n broke up, maybe without reason and they both can’t seem to move on, they are just one cute and inseparable couple 🌷

warnings- language, angst, slightly suggestive (not really), cute, fluff ☁️ this is LONG but it’s worth it! not revised sorry!

a/n- it felt inspired for this after Charles said he went to Vegas to party and I just think this is so cute and funny ❤️ enjoy!

“Come on Y/n! It can’t be that bad! You can hang out with me in the Williams garage!” Lily insisted hugging your arm.

“I don’t know Lily…you know…um I don’t really want to bump into Charles…” you say as he came to your mind. You haven’t moved on from that break up and seeing him again might not do any good to you.

Yours and Charles relationship broke as you both became more successful and the internet got involved along with incidents in his life that made him take the decision of breaking up with you.

That night your heart shattered to pieces, you loved him and understood him and were willing to help him fight with whatever problem he was facing. Yet you never really understood his reason for breaking your 5 year relationship.

Present day you have focused on yourself after 1 year since the breakup you have been busy with your career it didn’t allow you to think back to him, or even cry about it anymore. You were a mess the first few weeks but after Lily and Kika helped to pick you up and become the women you are today.

“You don’t have a reason to bump into him Y/n…I won’t leave your side I promise…I’ll defend you if he gets close” Kika said laughing as you swung the extra pit pass in-front of me making me sigh with a smile.

“Ok…fine I guess it would be really lucky of me if I did bump into him” you said sarcastically as you girls giggled and headed to the hotel so they could meet with their boyfriends, you went with Lily and Alex.

• • • •

Making it in the Williams garage with Lily, you sat at the back scrolling through your phone. The news was quickly spread.

Breaking News: “Y/n L/n arriving at the Las Vegas Grand Prix”

Some comments were negative which brought back memories and reasons for the split with Charles. Not letting it bother you, you slowly smiled at the cute and nice comments from those fans that loved you and Charles as a couple wishing you two would comeback.

After a few comments you look up seeing Lily arrive.

“Let me just tell you I do not enjoy third wheeling” you say playfully to Lily making her laugh.

“Oh don’t worry there’s maybe another guy around here…we can find one” she said playfully winking as you rolled your eyes.

“I need to use the restroom…I’ll be right back” you whispered to her getting up walking to the back. Walking down to the bathrooms you looked around taking in the cool air of Las Vegas, your thoughts were gone when two little girls approached your. The number 16 adorned their Ferrari caps.

“Oh hello…” you say softly as the giggled and shy asked for a picture you thought they were so cute and accepted the picture with them. You smiled and suddenly…

“Y/n please get back together with Charles!” one of the girls said as the other one agreed. You just followed along and smiled nodding.

“um well…we’ll see what happens okay?” you say keeping up with the little girls fantasies but older fans started to crowd around you hearing what you had said.

“are you here to get him back Y/n?” one fan asked as you stayed silent soon it was a full mob of questions and pictures without consent and a few mean comments yelled at you. Suddenly someone grabbed your wrist and feeling scared you try to pull away but it was Charles. He quickly pulled you to him covering your face from all the flashing and breaking through the crowd of people helping you to an emptier area.

That was going on the news in a few minutes. Finally in a quieter place you rushed in your bag taking out your inhaler. Anxiety had been building up on you more and more this days but nothing you couldn’t manage. You look up meeting those two eyes again, those eyes that you loved staring into and getting lost in them.

“Um…I got to go…thank you for…helping me” you say wanting to leave as quickly as possible but he moved his arm blocking your way as he slowly opened his mouth.

“wait…um I was wondering—“

“Charles!” a mechanic yelled making both of yours heads turn.

“Your race is starting you should go get ready” you said making a run for it into the bathroom, going into a stall you take a deep breath and try to process what had just happened. You didn’t want to feel like this crazy teenage girl but your heart was beating like crazy. After calming yourself down and fixing some of your makeup you return to Lily.

“Hey girl…woah you look like you saw some things” she said laughing handing me my headset.

“I…I did…starts with C”

“ends with S”

“most definitely”

“Oh god”

Telling the whole story to Lily had her giggling and fangirling over you two.

“Oh my god Lily be quiet…the race is starting we”ll talk about it later” you said putting your headset on watching as the race began. Charles was starting from 2nd and the start of the race had you so nervous.

Through half of the race within you, you were hoping that Charles could get the win but the power of Max’s Red Bull was making it difficult. You bit your lower lip gently, close to the end you cover your mouth worried when he had lost control of the car and was close to losing it all. You watch him get back but he was down to 3rd.

On the last lap he soon got his 2nd place back and finally crossed the finish line you smiled happily and wanted to run into his arms like old times but you soon realized that wasn’t going to happen anymore. Turning your head you see Lily already looking at you,

“W-what?” you asked nervously

“Congratulations on your man’s podium” she said giggling as you shushed her and noticed the cars of the top three parking as the drivers got out and ran to their teams. Your eyes then caught Charles, he looked so happy and you were too.

• • • •

You had left Lily and Kika to go party and explore Vegas with their boyfriends while you took a walk by the Forum Shops, looking at the pretty bags and dresses you were distracted when your phone started ringing.

Charles…

Why was he calling? I couldn’t really process what was going on or why would he be calling me at this time. As much as you tried to ignore the call your heart betrayed you and you swiped to accept the call.

“Hello?” you answered.

“Y/n? Thank god you answered we need you to come and grab Charles, he’s drunk and won’t stop talking about you…and no one can take him to his hotel at the moment…” You heard Carlos voice come from your phone as you widened your eyes.

“I…me? I…but why me? Call one of his—”

“Just this once Y/n…he could get in trouble for drinking too much” Carlos explained making you sighed.

“okay…where are you?” you asked starting to walk as he gave you the directions and hung up hurrying to that party.

After rushing through the casinos and finally arriving you saw Charles gambling as Carlos was next to him with Rebecca looking out for you.

When you got to him, you smiled at both of them and looked at Charles.

“Um…okay…is he staying in this hotel?” you asked grabbing his jacket.

“Yes, 37th floor, room 1586” Carlos said as you said goodbye to them and they wished you good luck, you approached Charles slowly grabbing his arm.

“Charles…stop we need to go…” you said pulling him away as he fought it.

“No! Just one more! I…Y/n?” he said quickly looking at you drinking another shot which you quickly took away.

You looked at him and started to walk him out soon he wrapped his arms around you resting his head on yours.

“Ah…Charles stop it you’re drunk…we need to get you to your room before anyone sees you like this” you say as he laughed and started rambling things that you didn’t quite understand, maybe french words.

Reaching the elevator, you walked Charles inside and pressed the button. Once the doors closed Charles placed more of his weight on you making you hug him from his waist, his eyes were half open but looked at you.

“Charles…”

“Shhh…god I was so dumb you know?” he said softly as his hand slowly touched your soft curls. You tried to not fall for his touch and turned your head away letting go off him as he fell on the floor making you gasps.

“Oh my god! Charles get up!” you say grabbing his hand but he only sat down with his eyes closed. As the elevator stopped the doors opened and revealed an elderly couple.

It was a miracle they didn’t seem to recognize the famous Charles Leclerc drunk on the floor with Y/n L/n trying to pick him up. He leaned on you and you struggled to get him out, apologizing to the elderly couple you walked out into the hallway and Charles moved away stumbling through the hallway.

“I can’t believe Y/n is taking me to my room…god…” he mumbled reaching to his door almost falling.

“Charles do you have your room key?” you say looking in his jacket but he got closer looking at you. You look up and his breath hit your lips.

“Charles…we—”

“Can you stay with me tonight?” he asked softly slowly cupping your cheek with his hand, it was cold.

“Um…I don’t know…please just tell me where your key is…” you say sighing “god I’m sorry for this” you whispered as you stick your hand into his pant pocket and took out his wallet looking through.

“got it…” you say opening the door helping him inside to his bed, letting him fall on it he pulled you down with him by your waist, squealing softly you look at him in shock his eyes were closed and your were panting for air.

“Fuck…you’re so heavy…” you say getting up pushing your hair back and started to fix his stuff before going to him taking his shoes off and grabbed a blanket putting it on him.

This was so bad, you shouldn’t be here with him. Tomorrow he won’t remember anything and this might’ve been a mistake, as you thought all this you found yourself seating on his bed watching him sleep. You gently move some of his hair off his face and gently brushed your thumb over his eyebrow admiring his features.

“why do you do this to me?” you whispered glancing at his soft pink lips shaking your head not wanting to fall into temptation. Yes you missed him but you wouldn’t kiss him just like that. Getting up, Charles grabbed your hand and you fell back to the bed, next to him facing him.

“my head hurts…” he whined softly looking at you with half open eyes and your hand slowly touched his cheek feeling his facial hair against your soft palm you felt him move closer.

“come back to me Y/n…I was so stupid…I…I miss you more everyday…”

his words reached to your heart and you didn’t know what to do. Your heart went crazy but you wanted to fight it and not fall so easily.

“I can get some soup tomorrow for your headache”

“Y/n listen…I can’t live without you…” he said meeting your eyes, as you kept changing the subject he pulled you close and shut you up with his lips on yours. You started to push on his chest and fight him, but his strength was much stronger than yours as he held your hands to the side he deepened the kiss, to which you gave in, returning the kiss and closing your eyes, he moved your arms around his neck and his hand slid down your arms to your waist, seeing him starting to reach for the hem of your shirt you stopped him.

“Charles…no…not yet…you’re drunk and…we don’t know if you actually…have consciousness for this” you say sitting up.

“I’ll stay until you fall asleep…” you say getting him to lay down again, but you sat down on the couch trying to forget about what had just happened and what could have happened.

• • • •

Little did you know you didn’t leave the room last night. Charles woke up, rubbing his face gently he looked around the room trying to make out what happened. Until his eyes widened seeing your small frame on the couch in an uncomfortable position. Getting up quickly he picked you up slightly laying you down making sure to not wake you up he placed the blanket on your cold body.

“god Y/n…what are you doing here?” he whispered to himself groaning softly at his headache starting to kick in.

Your phone rung and he quickly grabbed it putting it on silent. But he couldn’t help and read the texts from last night and the most recent ones, even though he tried to not get into your private life.

Kika 🩷

3:07 am

- what do you mean he kissed you??

- he wanted to fuck??? OMG—

8:47 am

- did it happen??? 😏

- girl answer!!!

Lily 💙

9:00 am

- wake up Y/n!

- Alex told me what happened last night!

- Are you w Charles rn??? OMG 😏

- You better explain!!

Charles eyes were widened and he didn’t know what to do. He saw you move and quickly put back your phone.

“Charles…what? Oh my god” you mumble realizing you had fallen asleep. Apologizing you start getting up but he held you down.

“no no please…I…I’m so sorry I must have given you problems last night…I don’t remember much but…um” he said his mind drifting off to the text messages he had just read.

“no! I mean…um Carlos called me to come get you…so I…I guess I got myself in this…” you say massaging your neck from the uncomfortable position you had slept in.

“I have to go through um…I would get some warm chicken noodles soup for the headache and it’s nice for the cool weather” you say smiling at him trying to make this situation less awkward.

Reaching the door handle his voice said your name making you turn around.

“Y/n…”

————

❤️ There will be a part 2!!! ❤️

#formula one #formula one social media au #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc imagine #alexander albon #pierre gasly #las vegas grand prix #las vegas gp 2023 #carlos sainz 55 #carlos sainz smut #carlos sainz imagine #charles leclerc 16

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melonminnie · 1 year

Note

HI HI <3

I'M SORRY FOR REQUESTING ALOT BUT PLS TAKE UR TIME IN DOING ANY OF MY REQUESTS <3

SO CAN U PLS DO YANDERE AQUAMARINE X READER WHERE READER WAS HIS WIFE IN HIS PAST LIFE AND GOT KILLED BY AI STALKER BCS SHE WAS CLOSE TO AI WHEN SHE WAS A PATIENT OF AQUAMARINE , BUT WHEN SHE WOKE UP SHE FOUND HERSELF AS AN ACTORS DAUGHTER , SO SHE MET AQUA WHEN AI WAS ACTING IN A FILM BCS HER MOTHER WAS ACTING IN THE SAME FILM SO THEY KNEW EACH OTHER IMMEDIATELY , BUT BCS HE WENT THROUGH HER DEATH IN HIS PAST LIFE HE BECAME SO PROTECTIVE OF HER AND IT BECAME WORSE AFTER AI DEATH

THAT'S ALL, LOVE YA<3

Well go ahead - Yan! Aqua x fem reader

- I read the entire manga for this enjoy!! (Ps you don’t annoy me you make me rlly happy when I see my inbox <3)

“Sarina your legs are giving out you don’t need to practice this much” the woman sighed in disbelief staring at the 12 year old girl.

In return Sarina glared at y/n, “I can try though! I’m getting better promise!” She replied pumping one of her fists into the air.

Y/n gazed towards her trembling legs in worry, “You really should overwork yourself” she sighed once again in disbelief walking forward to hold the girl up right.

“B-but I didn’t even fall this time! I could go on for longer” she interjected, “Sarina your body clearly can’t handle this your legs are giving out!” She pointed walking her to her room.

“Sense I would’ve understood” she pouted, “How about I get you pudding would that make you feel better?” The woman tried lightening up the mood after placing the girl in her bed.

“Really! You’d do that for me?” She questioned beaming this time, “Of course just don’t move out of your room I’ll call goro to stay with you” The woman replied standing up before grabbing her phone to dial her husbands number.

“He should arrive soon okay? I’ll be back before you know it!” She winked with a smile before leaving the room.

“Y/n!” Goro came rushing in, “What’s this about me needing to look after the patient I was on my lunch-”

“I promised her I’d buy her pudding plus you’d do it for your wife right?” She smiled leaving.

After a few weeks the girl ended passing away due to her illness, it was expected.

but what wasn’t expected?, your husband Turing into a complete idol fan after her passing.

“Ahh ai is so cute right y/n~” he gushed staring at the small tv screen, “Mhm I guess so you have a patient coming in soon so act professional please” the woman begged her husband, he’d already screwed up a million times by watching said idol in their room.

Or he’d completely go overboard and talk about ai instead of what was wrong with the patient.

“Promise” he complied Turing off the tv, “Want anything from the convenience store?” She asked quickly, “Soda” he replied walking out of the room with her.

When y/n returned, The shock was written all across her face at the person infront of her, it was no other than hoshino Ai.

the 16 year old idol that her husband has taken a liking too ever sense sarina has died. As quickly as she was shocked she smiled at the idol.

“Hello!ma'am” she greeted closing the door behind her as she smiled, “Oh hello” she smiled waving her hand her star like eyes shining brightly.

After they were finished, your husband practically leaped out of his chair and went into a frantic panic, “Y/n you saw her right! That’s Ai right right?” He questioned as if he was out of his mind.

“Mhm that is now here’s your drink I’m going to go have my lunch break” she muttered leaving the room. “Hello!” The purple head greeted from the side, “Oh Ai is something wrong” y/n questioned the girl.

“No I was just wondering..” she fidgeted with her arms for a while, “I figured out your married to goro sense I correct?” She hesitated, “yes I am!” She answered.

“And sense the two of you are married and probably have a kid or two was your pregnancy difficult?” She questioned smiling.

For a minute or two there was silence, y/n for the first time in a while was speechless, “Ai.. I’m really sorry but I don’t have any kids” she replied awkwardly.

The idols face quickly turned red, “I’m sorry for assuming!!” She apologized, “It’s okay..” Y/n stared into space, “How long have you and sensei been married?” She questioned.

“2 years” she muttered, “Oooohhh” the 16 year old said.

After a day or two, Ai seemed to adapt to the atmosphere quickly often hanging around you or your husband.

“Goro! I’m going to store need anything?” Y/n hummed, “Soda” he mumbled loud enough for her to hear, “typical.” She thought walking off.

After 5 minutes or so she exited the store with a bag of food.

“Excuse me miss” Someone called out to her she turned her head towards the voice, meeting a young man who’s features weren’t seen.

“Yes?” She questioned in confusion, “do you know where the hospital is?” He questioned, “Ah yes it just around the corner” she pointed.

“I’m bad with directions..can you lead me there?” He questioned once more, for a minute the woman hesitated, it was night time there wasn’t anyone around only the two of them.

“S-sure” she replied a drop of sweat falling down her face, Y/n lead the mysterious man to the hospital.

“Here there it i-” The boy covered the woman’s mouth with cloth a dagger aligned with her chest, as he dragged her body to the forest.

“This is what you get for helping my Ai with giving birth” He aligned the dagger before piercing it into the girls heart, he repeatedly stabbed her over and over and over and over again.

he didn’t stop even when she was confirmed not to be breathing.

Then before she knew it she was staring at a set of the most attractive people she’d seen in her life.

“My daughter looks so cute~!” The woman cooed staring at the baby in her arms. “I don’t disagree” the man agreed looking at the baby with fondness in his eyes.

It didn’t take long for you to find out you were reincarnated, it took you a few weeks as your mind couldn’t concentrate and you’d fall asleep whenever you’d open your eyes. But you managed.

It didn’t take long for people to find out that your mother had given birth, For a short while people were out raged.but it soon stopped, your parents still being successful actors.

The woman smiled, her heels making a slightly loud noise as she walked to her child’s room.

“Y/n!” She smiled staring at you playing on the floor, “What are you doing?” She asked kneeling on the floor. “Coloring..” the girl muttered slightly nervous. Even though a few years had passed sense you’d been born.

there was still this slight fear that someone would find out your a 20 year old in a toddlers body.

“Y/n..I have to go somewhere for the rest of the day and the maids aren’t coming today..so will you be willing to come with me?” She asked, it wasn’t a surprise or her of how shy you were around everyone.

The woman’s eyes light up as she saw you nod at her request.

Soon you had arrived at the location. To say it was suffocating would be an understatement. There were people running back and forth from all directions.

focused on camera, lighting, acting etc. from the corner of your eye you spotted a familiar girl with purple hair and eyes that shined like stars.

she had two kids with her, twins..a boy and a girl. The boy had blonde hair his eyes blue shining brightly. The girl resembled her brother blonde hair but pink eyes.

from her expression she was clearly very excited for some reason. The actress caught her daughter staring at the two children. She smiled before opening her mouth.

“Wanna go talk to them?” She questioned, her eyes focused on her child’s expression. She hesitated before nodding her head.

(Couldn’t think of a name for the mom so)

—- held onto y/ns hand before walking over to the girl and her children, AI’s eyes light up as she saw the two of you walking over she walked over herself beckoning her children to follow her.

—- stared at her daughter before whispering something into her ear and leaving with the purple head to have a conversation.

The two siblings stared at y/n as if she was an alien. Ruby quickly spoke up stepping forward with a smile.

“hellooo, what’s your name? Your hairs really pretty” she pointed out shaking the girls hand aggressively.

Y/n answered quickly, Rubys aggressive hand shake turns into somewhat of a hug, “I’m ruby” she announced her eyes drifting to her brother before pointing at him.

“That’s my brother..his name is aquamarine..but you can call him aqua” she said her tone somehow lowering her excitement.

There was an awkward silence as you and ruby stared at the boy waiting for him to speak, “Anyway!, y/n isn’t my mama so cool!!” Ruby gushed.

The conversation soon faded as the girl ran towards her mom once she was able to.

"Your sister really likes your mom, huh?" Y/n tried to strike up a conversation with the blonde-haired boy.

"I guess so," he responded, staring at the girl. "Do you always look like this?" he questioned in a condescending way.

"What do you mean?" she asked, nervousness seeping in. "Do you always look like you're hiding something you don't want anyone to know about?" he questioned once more, making his question clear.

She didn't answer, only staring straight ahead. "Even if I'm hiding anything, it doesn't matter, does it?" she replied. "You remind me of someone I used to talk to," he confessed. "You do too," she responded.

"Ruby, Aqua," the teenager called out to her two children, her hand reaching for the glass.

"I love you," she cried. "Those words were definitely not lies," she said weakly, tears flooding her eyes.

And with that, Idol Hoshino Ai was declared dead, leaving her two children, whom the world didn't know about, behind.

"Aqua, Ruby!" The girl waved her hands in the air as she saw the twins entering through the school gate.

At the sound of her voice, Ruby could swear that her brother was walking faster now. "Don't attract attention," he said, dragging the girl with him.

Ruby moved her feet to catch up to her brother. "Hey Y/N! I recently got scouted to be an idol!" she spoke proudly.

"So that means you can become an actress like our promise, remember?" Ruby added. A few years ago, Ruby and Y/N had promised each other that if Ruby ever became an idol, she'd either become one too or become an actress.

"Yeah, I remember. Don't worry, I won't ever forget it...I have good memorization skills," she winked, waving goodbye as she entered her classroom with Aqua.

The boy didn't say much, aside from his face as he heard his sister speak about becoming an idol.

As Aqua had promised himself, that Ruby would never become an idol till he died, he'd made the promise that you'd never become one either.

This is so bad I’m sorry but it’s been sitting im my drafts for a huge while

#-Azuwritess #oshi no ko #oshi no ko x reader #aqua x reader #aquamarine hoshino #ruby hoshino #onk #aqua hoshino #ai hoshino #oshi no ko fanfic #aqua hoshino x reader

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viriscribe · 7 months

Text

ᴋɪɴᴋᴛᴏʙᴇʀ - ᴍᴏʀᴛᴀʟ ᴋᴏᴍʙᴀᴛ - ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ x ᴀғᴀʙ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ - "ғᴏʀɢɪᴠᴇɴᴇss ɪs ᴇᴀʀɴᴇᴅ."

ᴋɪɴᴋs : ᴅᴏᴍ! ᴊᴏʜɴɴʏ ᴄᴀɢᴇ, sɪᴢᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ʀᴇᴄᴏʀᴅɪɴɢ, ғᴀᴄɪᴀʟs.

(ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴜᴛ)

The position you found yourself in was downright pornographic.

“Pluh.. please, Johnny..” You could barely register your own words. You were stripped bare, kneeling on the mansion’s cold marble floor. Johnny was sitting across from you, leaning back comfortably in one of his many lavish chairs. He was fully clothed, still in his suit from the award show you’ve arrived home from.

“No way, babe. You made your choice, now it’s my turn to have some fun.” The actor spoke down to you, a hint of satisfaction in his tone. “Think you can just play the innocent princess around those showbiz bastards?”

You shook your head, unable to come up with a retort. Mere hours ago, Johnny was accepting an award for his latest movie. His first one fully written and directed by him, it was a huge event for your lover! As he was swept away by adoring fans and paparazzi alike, you wandered to get anywhere but there. The lights, the glamor, it was a lot.. to put it simply. These events weren’t that special to you, but for Johnny you’d sit through them all. That doesn’t mean you couldn’t come up with your own fun, though. As the sea of reporters and cameramen flashed away, you cozied up to Johnny. A normal thing, a cute pose to assert your status as a couple. The position was like this, you’d stand in front of Johnny, your fronts facing each other. You’d look over your shoulder and give the cameras a big smile, the works. This time, however.. you ‘accidentally’ place your leg between his. The perfect angle, not enough to send suspicion your way from any passing guests, but close enough for Johnny to feel your plush thighs right against his crotch. The silk fabric of your slip dress made it oh so easy to slide your leg back and forth, providing that sinful stimulation.

Johnny flashed his Hollywood smile, trying to keep his cool. “Damn..” A breathy plea left his lips. “You vixen, in front of the crowd..?” You could feel him stiffen through his pants. “Fucking wait until we get home.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, quick to pull your body flush with his. You swallowed hard, not sure if the right feeling was to be scared or satisfied with your little stunt.

That brings you back into the present, where your pussy is dangerously close to the chilly floor. Johnny knew what the temperature would do to you, but he also planned for your current brattiness. He made you kneel with your legs slightly spread, a hard position to hold for long. Sooner or later that cunt was going to meet the ground. Seeing you suffer in the meantime was a bonus.

“Please what?” He scoffed, “You didn’t give me a choice before you started rubbing on my dick.” The man pulled out his phone, taking a lewd shot of you. You tried to turn away, but it was no use.

“I just wanted to have some fun..” Your breathing was labored, you legs were beginning to shake. “You know how I feel about award shows..”

Johnny was quick to fire back. “And you know how I feel about disobedient sluts.”

Your mouth hung open, a tinge of pleasure sparking in your sex. Dominant Johnny Cage was something you’d never get over. As sweet, cocky, and secretly nerdy he was… the man was kinky. A pervert behind those sunglasses, but anyone could’ve guessed that.

“You have a choice.” He called out your name, his words dripping with desire. “We can go to bed now and talk about this in the morning.. Gods know how fucking tired I am.” A beat passes, and you almost don’t catch Johnny unzipping his fly. “Or, you can show me how sorry you are. Earn my forgiveness for that stunt.”

Even in his half asleep horny state, Johnny had the mind to give you an out. Fuck, you’re gonna marry this stupid guy. You decided to answer by looking up at Johnny with doe eyes, “I’ll do anything to be forgiven, sir.”

A throaty groan came from the man, and you knew you were in for it now. Your mind raced with the thought of your punishment. Was he going to make you kneel while he fucked your throat? Made to show the camera how much cum he can pump into your little mouth? Or was he going to take your over his knee, giving you spanks until your tears coated the floor along with your wetness. The possibilities were endless, and you were more than eager to please.

“Stay there, princess.” Johnny got up, leaving you to kneel in the living room. As he wandered off, you couldn’t help but feel exposed. Not because you were fully naked, but due to the huge outlook right onto the city. That fucker probably designed his mansion with that view in mind, and all the dirty things he could do with that in the background.

You struggled to keep the kneeling position, tempted to give yourself a break while your lover was gone. Though, maybe this was part of the game? He had cameras everywhere and you didn’t want to risk being caught disobeying again tonight.

Johnny’s footsteps alerted you to his presence, the predatory aura sending shivers down your spine. In his hands was a favorite of you both. A quite sizeable fantasy dildo, one you’ve taken many times. It was large from the tip to the base, only becoming wider the way down. You gulped upon laying eyes on it, getting a good idea of where this was going to go.

“H-Honey..” You shifted, your pussy dribbling right onto the tile.

Johnny quickly shushed you, not pleased that you were speaking without permission.

“Up.” He spoke and you obeyed. “You’re going to ride this cock until I know you’re truly sorry for what you did.” You nodded, turning your head to look for the bottle of lube that usually comes along with the toy.

“Oh, no.” Johnny laughed, “You’re not getting that luxury tonight. Plus..” He stepped forward, dragging a finger through your folds. “It looks like you’ve got enough down there already.” He couldn’t deny it, he was impressed. The effect he had on you was otherworldly, one the man would never take for granted. Johnny watched as your essence slowly ran down his finger.

“Mmph!” You startled as he suddenly shoved the coated finger in your mouth, making you taste yourself. Johnny bit his lip as you began to suck on his digit.

With a ‘pop’ he pulled back. The toy was then placed securely on the tile, a convenient suction cup keeping it in place.

“Go on.” The stage was set, Johnny was going to enjoy this. If you did a good job to please him, then maybe you’d get the privilege to as well. “Put on a show for me.”

You sunk to your knees once more, squatting over the sizable toy. You didn’t dare look up at your lover, you already knew the fucker was recording.

The tip of the dildo was thick, providing a sharp pleasure as you rubbed it along your cunt in an attempt to get some sort of lubrication. Your folds gave way to the toy, coating it in your slick. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the penetration. This was quite the task to do without a warm up, but it was your punishment after all. As the dick breached your cunt, you immediately cried out. It looked fucking massive in Johnny’s hands, now you can only imagine the view he was seeing. Your size difference was a massive turn on for the man, awakening the need to push you to your limits whenever he could.

“Look at that, it’s stretching you so nicely for me.” Johnny smirked at you, angling the camera to perfectly frame your stretching pussy.

Your vision blurred, the feeling of taking such a huge dick was heavenly. Pathetic half groans involuntarily slipped past your lips. Once the tip was inside, you paused before continuing your descent.

Johnny hummed, mocking your predicament. He had all the time in the world. Seeing you so willing to please him was intoxicating. You took the shaft of the toy with ease, whimpering as you neared the base. Your breathing was labored, your eyes blown wide with need. As your cunt hit the base, a wave of fullness washed over you. Being oh so full, stuffed with cock… it suited you. The feeling of being pushed to your limit and then some, it was addicting, to say the least. And that was just on the receiving end. Describing your lover as ‘turned on’ was a severe understatement. The whole time you were sliding down on the toy, Johnny was stroking himself. One hand holding the phone recording your debauchery and one sating himself.

“Ride it, bitch.” Johnny commanded, drunk with the authority he had over you.

You didn’t need another moment. Your hips began to move, grinding on the dildo. Every inch of your cunt was being rubbed by the silicone. A steady growing ball of pleasure began to build in your core. You let all of your inhibitions go, humping it like a slut. The pace you set for yourself was relentless, wanting to give Johnny the show he wanted. He made sure to zoom in on your breasts, their bounce only made your act more vulgar.

“Feel sorry yet?” He laughed at you, degrading you. “I want to hear it.”

You looked up at him, showing a hint of embarrassment. Johnny wasn’t going to let shit like that slide and you knew that. “Don’t act shy while you’re fucking yourself. Apologize to me as you fuck yourself.”

Who were you to deny him? You knew your place, humping the toy as your lover pleased himself mere inches away from your face. If you stuck your tongue out far enough, you could get a taste of his dick.

“I’m..” You began to bounce up and down the dildo, chasing your own orgasm. “I’m so sorry.. I’m sah..” Broken apologies fell from your lips, sad attempts at forming a sentence. “I’m so sorry, Johnny..!” Your legs twitched, you were close. Johnny knew this of course, but didn’t say anything. He was curious to see if you’d ask to cum, or risk further punishments.

“May..” Your walls clenched around the cock, barely letting it go to fuck yourself. “May.. I.” Johnny huffed, pretending to not understand your gibberish.

“May I please cum, Johnny!” Screams and moans errupted from your drooling mouth, “I’m so fucking sorry for what I’ve done, see! Please let me cum..”

With a single word, Johnny allowed you your precious release. You fell forward, holding onto his leg as you fucked yourself to completion. It was a display of pure love and submission, you had never felt more safe and more vulnerable as you were in this moment. The pleasure snapped like a tense wire, and you felt your orgasm flow from your cunt and onto the floor.

“The camera loves you, that’s it right there.” Johnny framed your face in the recording, catching your climax in real time. And if you humiliating yourself under him wasn’t enough, Johnny came as well. His cock shot ropes of semen all over your face, painting you for his final act of dominance.

You smiled at the camera, wiping some of his cum off your face. With a dazed chuckle, you licked your fingers clean, blowing a kiss to the camera before the recording ended.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚________________

“Babe.. do you really not like award shows?” Johnny held you steady against his bare body, massaging shampoo onto your scalp. His aftercare consisted of a nice shower, one where you’d never move a muscle. After this, he’d wrap you up in blankets and hold you close as you drifted asleep, or maybe put on a movie. It depended on how spent you were.

You shifted in his grasp, turning around to place a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Honestly, no. Though, I like you. I love you. Seeing my handsome boyfriend get recognized for his talent makes all of the screaming fans and flashing cameras worth it.”

“Hah.. you called me handsome.” Johnny hummed a tune while he finished cleaning you both up. Of course, that’s the part he heard.

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 johnny cage #johnny cage x reader #johnny cage #mortal kombat #mk x reader #mk1 x reader #mortal kombat fanfic

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