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bunnylovesani · 4 months

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Cherry Popping

Summary: When you’re left alone with your father’s good friend James Kelly, you try to seduce him- but you soon realise you’ve bitten off more than you can chew.

Content warnings: Mild dubcon, loss of virginity, rough p in v sex, fingering, choking, degradation, humiliation, creampie

WC: 2.8k

You’d gotten used to James hanging around- you’d spent many of your childhood summers peering into the garage where he worked with your father. A long time had passed since he was just a mechanic’s apprentice but he maintained a close friendship with your family, often coming by on weekends for a cold beer and catch up. Everything had remained the same for years- everything apart from you.

As you grew older, the way you looked at him changed. Thanks to a fresh influx of hormones, you were filled with a newfound curiosity for him- his familiarity was washed away and replaced with anxious desire. Now prior to his arrival, you’d spritz yourself with perfume and change into something short and pink. Your dad, being endearingly clueless as usual, would comment on how nice the floral fragrance that his princess was wearing was and you’d squeak out “Thanks daddy! Just tryin’ out somethin’ new, ya know?”

As was your routine, you’d skip along happily to the garage whenever you heard the familiar hum of his engine and you’d practise working up the nerve to ask him if he wanted something to drink. He’d flash you a bright smile that made you weak in the knees and usually declined your offer, insisting he could get it himself. You always felt a little saddened, sorely craving the opportunity to show him care and attention with some good old-fashioned hospitality.

On one particular weekend, you’d spent the day attending to your dad- who had elected to stay home from work after battling a nasty virus for the entirety of the previous night. James- ever gracious- came over bearing medicine and various snacks as soon as he found out, stepping into the lounge where your dad lay to crack some distasteful joke and bring him a canister of tea before leaving him to nap.

“I could’ve done that.” You murmured once he stepped out and closed the door behind him.

“No need, we wouldn’t want you catching whatever your old man’s got.” He smiles earnestly and you feel your breath catch in your throat as your mind goes blank, an increasingly awkward silence lingering between you.

“So how is everything, kid? School going well and all that?” He diffuses the tension.

“I’m not in school anymore James.” You giggle at how misinformed he is.

“Ah my bad, I guess I don’t know you as well as I’d like.” He looks away, rubbing the back of his head and you can’t help but admire his gorgeous side profile, choppy dark hair framing his sculpted face.

“And how well would you like to know me?” You mumble, barely above a whisper.

“I’m sorry?” He raises his eyebrows and cocks his head at you, assuming he misheard you.

“Nothing- you know, the lightbulb in the bathroom needs changing and I just can’t reach it! Could you help me?” You ask in your sweetest voice, batting your eyelashes.

“Of course, in here?” He points to the bathroom down the hallway, stepping in.

“Yep, the ceiling is too tall and I can’t find anything to step on.” You hold the bulb in your hand and huff defeatedly.

“I’ll go grab a chair-“

“Or you could just give me a leg up.” You interrupt, wanting desperately to feel his calloused hands wrapped securely around you.

“Uh-I mean, sure.” He stutters, realising he doesn’t have much of a choice when your hands make their way to his broad shoulders.

You jump up as his firm grip tightens over your barely clothed thighs and hips, holding you up with bated breath. You pretend to fiddle with the screw of the bulb, prolonging the moment as you memorise every detail of his touch on your skin.

“You got it?” He asks uncomfortably, facing the opposite direction from you.

“Yeah, almost! It’s just so - ugh- damn slippery!” You pretend, making sure to stretch out so that your already short skirt is further raised- hem brushing against his knuckles. “Just can’t seem to get it in…” You mumble and he looks up at you, shooting you an unconvinced glare.

“If you wanted me to touch you, you could’ve just said.” He sighs, unamused with your little act.

“I-I don’t know what you mean James, I’m just struggling with the bulb.” You chuckle incredulously before he drops you a little, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist with a gasp. “James! I-“

“You’ve done enough talking.” He mutters and lowers you against the sink, your legs still wrapped around his torso as he lifts up your skirt, taking a peek at your lace panties. You’re rendered speechless- you don’t know what you were expecting when you were being flirty but it wasn’t this.

“You’re over 18, right?” He stops for a moment, both hands squishing the soft flesh of your thighs.

“Yes, way over.” You huff- how did he still think you were a kid?

“Enough with the attitude.” He grabs you by the cheeks with one hand and stares right through you with steely blue eyes. “You think you’re all grown up now? Ready to be treated like a real woman?” He asks you with such intensity it feels like a life or death matter.

“I am.” You mumble and bite your lip nervously. You had no idea what he had in mind for you but you knew you wanted it all, whatever it was.

“You’re certainly dressed like it.” He inspects your low-cut top and short skirt, now hitched around your hips with your thong on display for him. “You’re asking for it walking around like this. And daddy just lets you? If you were my daughter, you’d never be allowed to parade around my friends dressed like a slut. Perverts would be thinking all sorts of things.” His eyes roam your body, fingers lifting your top and caressing the bare skin underneath.

“You mean perverts like you?” You blink at him innocently.

“Exactly.” A grin spreads across his face as he grabs you by the throat and brings you closer to him, his warm breath on your neck. “I want to ruin you.” He drawled in his husky, deep voice and you felt the damp spot in your panties spreading.

You need him to know how much you want him so you lean in to meet his lips in a soft, touching embrace. You feel his smirk disperse into the kiss and he pulls away, laughing.

“What’s funny?” You curve your eyebrows into an adorable swoop.

“You kiss like a…like a-“

“A little girl?” You cross your arms. “How would you know how a little girl kisses?”

“Don’t be an idiot, I didn’t mean it like that. You’re just so….innocent. You kiss like you’ve never been hurt before. Like you’ve already given yourself to me.” He brushes past your cheeks with his knuckles.

“That’s because I have.” You declare as you peel off your top, revealing your bare chest to him in the process since you’d decided to forego a bra. He stares at your perky breasts in awe, cupping one softly and brushing over your nipple with his thumb. His cock twitches at the sight of you exposed all for him, legs spread and tits out while your father was asleep down the hall.

“How pretty…when did these grow?” He notes amusedly as his touch becomes harsher, squeezing them with some force. A shudder spreads over your body as your legs instinctively part, needing to feel him inside you.

“Want me to pop your cherry, baby?” He offers and you wince at his lusty tone. Before you even get the chance to nod in confirmation, he’s pulling your panties down, tossing them behind him.

“You know how this is done, yeah?” He asks with half his attention, focus stolen by the sight of your glisteningly wet pussy.

“Uhuh, I do. I’ve seen it.” You choke out anxiously.

“Of course you do, such a smart girl. Have you been watching naughty videos?” He spreads your thighs with an iron grip, gazing directly into the creaminess forming between your legs.

“Only once or twice.” You insist, worried you were going to get in trouble.

“It’s okay darlin’, perfectly natural to be curious about these things.” He rubs his thumb across your clit and you flinch a little at the unfamiliar sensation. “I bet you’ve been struggling with some new feelings, haven’t you?”

You furrow your eyebrows and hang your head in shame. “I get this fuzzy feeling right there where you’re touching me- and it doesn’t go away for so long! Feels like butterflies and I don’t know how to get rid of them.”

“Poor baby, that sounds so tough. You just need someone to help you out, don’t you? Well that’s what daddy’s friends are for, sweetheart.” He coos affectionately and you lean into his touch, feeling so protected.

“Please help me.” You whine, slender fingers fidgeting with the zip of his jeans.

“Such a needy little thing.” He mutters, pushing your hands away to undo the trousers himself, sliding them off until he’s in nothing but his black boxers. Your face scrunches up in disbelief as your fingertips trail the outline of his cock, girthy and hard.

“Don’t give me that look. I’ll be so gentle, I promise.” He redirects your attention to his voice, cupping your face and kissing you sweetly.

“You don’t have to be that gentle.” You murmur into the kiss and he chuckles breathily, hand trailing back down between your thighs to slip a finger inside you.

You gasp at the unexpected intrusion and grab onto his firm shoulder.

“Shh, it’s alright. Just need to loosen you up a lil’ bit.” He hushes you as he adds another one, strong fingers curling up into your squishy flesh. A soft moan escapes your plump lips and a fire rages in your chest when you look down at the sight of his veiny forearm situated between your spread legs, wetness pouring down his large hand.

“Please…I need it.” You whine into his mouth as he sloppily kisses you.

“Be patient, baby. I’m gonna rip you apart if you’re not ready. This tight little pussy couldn’t take it.” He consoles you, pressing his fingers deeper and deeper inside you.

“You said you wanted to ruin me, didn’t you?” You groan, the feeling of his fingers suddenly woefully inadequate. He sighs and slips them out, resting his palm on the cold basin by your thigh.

“Fine, but I don’t want to hear any crying.” He warns you with a raised eyebrow before slipping down his boxers and releasing his throbbing cock. You’d never seen one before but your mouth watered and your eyes darkened with lust at the sight.

“Be a good girl and spread those legs for me.” Ever obedient, you open them wide as he shuffles in between you, gliding his ridged tip smoothly over your slit- making you shudder every time the soft skin brushed past your swollen clit.

He lazily pushed the tip in, not bothering to warn you beforehand and you whimpered sharply at the painful stretch. He disregards your discomfort and pushes all the way in, bottoming out until his abdomen grazed yours.

Your lips part, threatening to release another cry but he clamps his hand tightly over your mouth before it can spill out.

“Ah, ah. What did I say?” He tuts softly and stares blankly at your crinkled expression. “You can take it. You’re a big girl, remember?” He begins to rock into you, stretching you out so much you have to grip the edge of the countertop, sharp edge cutting into your palms. The hand that isn’t muffling your moans is at the back of your neck, a firm grasp holding you in place on either end. In this position, he has complete control over your body. You are nothing but a fucktoy to be used for his amusement- and he doesn’t even look that amused.

Your breathy, stifled gasps continue with every thrust as you struggle to adjust to the intensity of his thrusts.

“What’s the matter, sweetie? Does it hurt?” He feigns concern but you don’t pick up on his insincerity.

“Y-yes!” You choke back tears, body tensed up as his cock bullied your little cunt relentlessly.

“Good.”

He snakes his hand around your throat and squeezes until you feel your heartbeat pulsating in your neck.

“All I had to do was be a little nice and you let me stick my cock in you.” He leers mockingly. “And with daddy next door, no less. How desperate are you? Are you sure you’re even a virgin?” He swipes a towel off the rack beside him and places it between where your bodies meet. You stare at him in confusion and he smirks.

“This is so he doesn’t hear when I start pounding into you.”

He grabs the panties he tossed aside earlier and gestures for you to open your mouth.

“And this is so no one can hear you scream, baby.” He stuffs the bundle of fabric into your mouth and your eyes widen as he snaps his hips forward, slamming into you roughly. He hooks his hands under your armpits and grips you by the shoulders as he mercilessly pounds into you, the smacks of flesh all but silenced by the towel- apart from the wet sloshing that echoed off the bathroom tiles.

“Do you actually like this? Oh baby, what a sick freak. You really are perfect for me.” He moans at the sight of your eyes rolling to the back of your head and your panting growing erratic.

“Can I trust you to be quiet?” He asks and you nod vigorously, wanting so badly to gain his approval. “Yeah? I wanna hear those pretty little moans. But you have to be so quiet baby. Think you can do that f’me?” He whispers into your ear and plants a couple of wet kisses on the side of your face. A string of drool follows as he carefully removes the panties from your mouth, wiping any remnant of spit off your bottom lip with his thumb.

“There we go…” He mutters breathily, the pleasure catching up to him as his thrusts grew sloppier. This is a memory he would cherish forever: the sound of wet squelching as he fucked you into the sink.

He pulled all the way out before harshly burying himself back inside you with a smack of his hips, letting you feel every part of him as if it were your privilege and not his.

You loved the feeling of being caged under him, not able to escape even if you wanted to. The pain subsided and the fuzzy feeling returned, prompted by the way the base of his cock brushed against your clit.

“Aah- oh! Ugh, daddy.” You slurred quietly.

“Silly baby.” He teased. “I’m not your daddy.”

You babbled disjointedly as his hard thrusts sped up, your inner thighs dripping with arousal and sweat.

“Have I fucked you dumb already? Baby doesn’t even know who her daddy is anymore.” He mutters absent-mindedly, staring at the creaminess coating his dick. “I’m doing you a favour, you know? No one wants to fuck a virgin. Too much hassle. So you’re welcome.” He struggles to peel his eyes away from the sight of his painfully hard cock disappearing into your swollen pussy. “Say thank you.” He slams into you especially roughly after you don’t respond.

“Fuck! Th-thank you. Thank you James, thank you so much!” You whine, on the verge of fainting.

“Good girl. Now I’m going to pump you full of my cum- and you’re going to like it.” He sneers and you’re too fucked out to form a response, allowing him to use you in any way he desired instead.

With one final impact, he pounds into your cunt and spills his seed into you, bowing his head to bite you on the shoulder in an attempt to stifle his moans. You can’t do anything but sit there, aching and used up.

He pulls out as his heavy breaths regulate and he sits on the edge of the bathtub, admiring the way his cum leaked out of your abused hole.

“Next time, I’ll teach you how to suck my cock.” He remarks casually and you squeeze your thighs together at the thought of there being a next time.

“Open.” He slaps the side of your leg lightly. “I don’t want to see you wearing panties anymore when I’m around, okay?”

You bite your lip and nod obediently.

“Your dad was right, you really are such a good girl.”

Taglist:

@crazy4hotmen @erinkeifer @mortalheartache @arzua10 @mugwump327 @offthethirlwall @bby-imasociopath @slvttedoutmars @emmalandry

#hayden christensen #james kelly #hayden christensen fan fiction #anakin skywalker #James Kelly smut #James Kelly fan fiction #American heist #hayden Christensen smut #anakin skywalker smut #star wars smut

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caesium-55 · 1 month

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—seven days. [ vi.iii ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader.

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

author's note: updating bc i love yall. lol jk i dont want to study for my engineering management long quiz yet. sum1 yell at me to start studying or smth.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal

masterlist.

The Abu Dhabi Grand Prix 2021 is a little dramatic in Max’s opinion. Some would say controversial. A lot of restarts. The issue with the safety car. Hamilton and Verstappen goes neck to neck. 369.5 points to 369.5. In the end, Verstappen overtakes Hamilton and wins the 2021 World Drivers' Championship.

The team celebrates with him after winning and in the sea of Red Bull employees, Max searches for you.

He won! Max Verstappen won! He’s a WDC now! He finally made truth of the world he told you in 2019.

Kelly appears and kisses him square on the lips. Max sees you in his peripheral vision, pulling your ball cap lower on your face before turning around and leaving. He wants to call you but Kelly keeps him in place.

Max visits your hotel room later, all happy and he holds the canned bottle of beer to you when you open the door.

“I’m not the sour loser anymore.”

You smile at him and Max feels like he’s on top of the podium again.

“Told ya you’ll be champion one day. Congrats, champ. Very happy for you.”

Champ.

Max decides that he likes Champ over every name you call him.

2022

you: go to fucking sleep u degenerate gamer

you: its 3 in the morning you have a race at 8

max: youre not my mother

you: i am ur manager u ass

you: and i have ur mom’s cell no

you: i will fucking call her if ur stream doesn't turn offline in ten seconds

you: 10…

max: you wouldnt dare

you: 9…

He moves into a penthouse at the beginning of the year and purchases a jet, Dassault Falcon 900EX, to make the traveling easier. Flying commercial absolutely sucks, even first class.

When he mentions the money he spent; the penthouse rental cost, the price of the jet plus maintenance of the private plane service, you have stood up and went to the balcony to stare at the Monaco scenery to gather your thoughts. Max laughs as he watches your brain overheat. He tells security that you’re to be given an immediate pass into the building and his penthouse without the need of going through the strict security checks. He gives you a keycard that you barely use because you knock on the door every single time you come by. A month later, Kelly and Penelope move in and this is the beginning of the little family charade.

“What are you doing?”

“Is it not obvious?” you gesture to the iPad in your hand. “Readin’ a Lestappen fic in AO3.”

Max’s brows furrow.

“Lestappen?”

“The ship name between you and Charles. Lestappen. Leclerc, Verstappen, Lestappen,” you say as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world and he’s stupid for even asking, waving your hand in a complicated flourish. “It’s good. Top-tier literature. Want me to send you the link?”

Max’s nose scrunches, “So there are people who ship me and Charles?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Romantically?”

You nod, “Want the link?”

“Absolutely not.”

You shrug your shoulders.

“Your loss.”

Max wins P1 (as things should be) in Austin, Hamilton P2, and Leclerc P3. The team holds a private drinking party in the hotel bar. Max sits with Leclerc, whom he has invited, and Lando, who came with Daniel, and Daniel because he’s Daniel and he still gets a free pass in Red Bull parties even though he’s in McLaren now.

Daniel passes him a bottle of Heineken and Max searches for the bottle opener on the table but it's nowhere. He reaches for you, who sits on the neighboring table with the PR team. Max grabs the hem of your polo shirt sleeve and tugs slightly to get your attention. He opens his mouth to ask if you’ve seen the bottle opener but you got to moving, not even giving Max the chance to speak.

Without even interrupting your conversation with the PR people or even breaking eye contact with the person who is talking animatedly, you take the beer bottle from Max’s hand, toss a hand towel on top of it, then you use your teeth to remove the cap. It opens with a loud click. You wipe the rim of the bottle, pocketing the bottle cap, before returning the Heineken to Max.

Max looks at the Heineken bottle in his hand.

You know, Sophie, Max’s mother, always say that there's a certain type of intimacy existing when two people are able to communicate without the use of words. People associate intimacy with bare skins and basking in the fragility and vulnerability of a person, but intimacy goes deeper than mere nakedness and showing all the bare parts of you to the other person. Intimacy comes hand in hand with truth. When you admit your truth to the other person, that's intimacy. Her knowing his truth, his needs, without him telling her. That's another kind. If that's not the purest form of love then he does not know what is.

Charles pats his shoulder to pull him to reality.

At that moment, Max decides he’s an asshole because he just realized that he likes his manager after she opens his beer bottle and he has a fucking girlfriend now.

Max wins WDC for the second year in a row. Leclerc is at second and Perez at third. He’s on the top of the fucking world. Everything feels right now that he’s standing at the top.

His eyes search for you in the crowd but he doesn't find you. Only Kelly. He kisses Kelly, celebrates with the team, and visits you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer in hand. It's a little past midnight, his watch tells him. You open the door seconds after Max knocks.

“Have you talked to Horner?” you ask, accepting the beer and opening it. The loud click when you open it feels satisfying in his ears.

You’ve changed out of the Red Bull polo now and instead, you wear a black shirt.

“No,” Max shakes his head.

“When will you?”

“Soon.”

That's the only truth he can offer. Because the bigger truth is this: Max doesn't want you going anywhere, not even the engineering team who works closely with him. He only wants you here, beside him, behind him, at all times.

One more year. One more year and he's going to tell Christian to move you to the engineering team. One more year to have you and he’ll let you go.

(That's what he told himself last year, too.)

“Okay,” you nod and it relieves Max that you’re not arguing with him about it. “Congrats, Champ.”

You don't fly with him to Monaco. You don't fly with the team either. Instead, you fly to Texas immediately straight from Abu Dhabi. Max calls you once in the middle of break to greet you happy holidays and you mail him his gift—a clay keychain figure of him. He adds it to his keys, sitting right next to the beaded keychain you gave him back in 2020 and a bottle opener keychain in 2021.

2023

“Should I break up with Kelly?”

Your head snaps up at a speed that should be considered a hazard, stunned. You give Max a look that can be translated as: Did the g-force finally catch up to your brain?

“What prompted this?” you question, slowly setting Max’s laptop aside. You’re working on fixing his laptop’s wifi connection while he’s getting his makeup done for the Heineken ad filming. Once the makeup artist deemed him done and left the room, he immediately took the chance to ask the question.

“Nothing,” he lies.

“I’ll throw away your laptop if you don't tell me the truth,” you threaten.

“It's just—” Max pauses. His mouth feels dry. He licks his lips before continuing, “It’s just… I don't know how to explain it. It feels like I don't love Kelly anymore.”

I think I love you, [Name].

“Aight,” you grab a monoblock chair and drag it until it's right beside Max’s chair and plop your ass down. You sigh deeply before your face schools into complete seriousness. “Can't believe I’m the one givin’ you this talk. Uh, Max, you see, in a relationship, you typically experience this period called the honeymoon phase.”

Max nods slowly. He doesn't know where you're trying to get at but he clings on each word that leaves your mouth.

“The honeymoon phase can last anywhere from months to years and when it's done, the strong feelings and infatuation you have for Kelly decreases and that's natural. This is the stage where your bond with Kelly is strengthened,” you explain. “It's not all sunshine and rainbows. It can get boring. But the love is still there. It's just…well, less intense than before.”

He wants to ask if this happened to you and Leo as well, but he bites his tongue and says a different thing instead, “You give advice like a relationship guru.”

“Baby, I have a long list of ex-lovers. Kelly’s your first girlfriend. You don't have a say.”

Your birthday is near. Daniel shares to Max that he’s buying you a new ball cap this year, signed by your favorite professional billiard player. Max needs to give you something better.

He thinks about the things you like. He makes a list. It's a short one.

Beer

A spot in the engineering team.

Your family

He cannot give number three. He cannot give what you already have. He can give you number two but he doesn't want to. He doesn't want you to be anything other than his manager. He can give you number one but it'll be very lame of him if he gives you beer for your birthday. What is better than Daniel’s gift? What would you like more than a ballcap?

Max calls his sister that evening.

“Shoes,” she says. “Oh wait, that's a little hard. You might get her shoe size wrong.”

“She’s size 7. In Euro, 37,” Max states a little too quickly and a little too sure.

“How did you know her shoe size?” Victoria wonders.

“I don't know. I just watch her feet?”

“So, you estimated her shoe size by watching her feet like a creep?”

“I watch her feet a normal amount, Victoria,” Max insists.

“Max, I can't even tell my husband’s shoe size even if I stare at his feet for hours.”

“Maybe you just suck at estimating measurements.”

Max ends up getting the shoes with Victoria’s help. Victoria gets too irritated with him midway because he is too indecisive. He thinks all the shoes that’s displayed do not suit you.

It's not even this difficult when he’s picking shoes to give Kelly. Normally, he just asks the saleswoman to show him the most expensive or the latest in their stock and he buys it, instructs the storespeople to wrap it up and make sure the brand shows because Kelly likes it when the brand is big and bright and attention-grabbing.

“If you think nothing’s pretty enough then go get a custom made shoe,” she advises and then sighs in exasperation. Victoria shakes her head at him. It's not supposed to be a serious suggestion but Max takes it to heart.

Instead of black, Max goes for white. You rarely go in white clothing but when you do, you become so beautiful that Max has to stop himself from kneeling down in front of you and risking everything.

It has pearls and diamonds and satin. All beautiful things that reminded Max of you. Max wants, no, needs to see you put them on. He’s the one who puts it in a box. White-colored with peach stickers and a peach-colored ribbon.

Max plans to give them to you after he wins the Miami Grand Prix. But your family arrives just as he’s about to retrieve it from his driver’s room.

Max meets your family. A family that consists of happy parents and three brothers. You are your family’s unica hija.

Julio [Last Name], your father, is a big man and his accent is thicker than yours and he doesn't call you by your name, only the most affectionate-sounding mija. He reminds Max of a giant teddy bear. A giant teddy bear who crushes rocks for a living.

Your mother, on the other hand, is a stern-looking woman. Sally, her name was. She’s short, compared to you and her sons and her husband.

You have three brothers. One older—you call him Damiano. Two younger—Rafael and Dominic. You are more your mother than your father, Max notices. Appearance-wise anyway. Damiano, too. Sharp-looking, both of you. Your sharpness makes you look charming whereas your Damiano’s sharpness makes him look intimidating. Your two younger brothers are carbon copies of your father, a little round and with kinder looking features.

“Papa, Mama, Bro one, two, and three, this is Max,” you introduce him, smiling widely and you're doing that smile where you’re showing too much gums and your eyes are shaped like crescents. Happiness looks good on you.

He lets out an oof sound when your father engulfs him in a hug. Max hears you exclaim: “Papa!”

Max laughs and waves his hand to tell you that the hug is fine and is very much welcomed.

“Congratulations, Maxwell!” Julio claps Max’s shoulders.

“Papa, please,” you shake your head at your father’s antics. “It's just Max.”

“Ya want to join us for [Name]’s birthday?” Julio invites. Max catches your eyes. You mouth a no but Max shrugs and says, “Sure.”

Max joins the family dinner. It's held in a Mexican restaurant somewhere downtown. Originally, your family reserved a table for ten. But Max has gone ahead and reserved the entire restaurant by paying upfront. You slap Max’s hand but Max laughs and says, “Happy Birthday [Name].”

Over dinner, Maxs learns that Rafael, Dominic, and Damiano are the biggest motosport fans so they all talk about Formula One and occasionally MotoGP. He finds out that they're a big fan of Marc Marquéz. Max tells them that he knows Marc personally and shares his experiences with the man. He promises to send them the man’s signatures. You tell him that he doesn't have to. He tells you that it's his pleasure.

Max listens in attentively as Julio narrates his amazing tales about his work experience. You laugh at the surprised Pikachu face Max makes when Julio is telling the entire table about the creepy call he responded to just the other month. You and your mother occasionally join in on the conversation but are more comfortable with listening to the boys.

Later, you stand up to excuse yourself to go to the bathroom. Max stands from the table five minutes after you leave. He’s drunk too much soda so now he needs to take a piss.

“Are you okay?” Max asks as he catches you reapplying a layer of lipstick—a shade of nude rose—on the sink in front of the washroom.

You hold the lipstick in one hand but the other is holding your right arm, palm covering the word MANAGER printed on the sleeve of your Red Bull polo shirt like it's something to be ashamed about.

“Yeah.” A lie.

The rest of the night goes the way Max wants it. He almost wishes it won't end.

Kelly waits for him in his hotel room. She gives him a gift for winning P1. The shoe box in Max’s backpack remains untouched.

He’s got every country except Singapore, Saudi, and Azerbaijan under his belt. His third WDC is secure even if he loses Abu Dhabi, but Max is selfish. He still wants a P1 in Abu Dhabi so he fights and fights until no one can catch up because of how fast he was.

Kelly comes with him this time to watch him race and support him because it's the final race of the season and she also knows that Max is going to win WDC this year. P is over at her father right now so it's just the two of them.

“Babe!” Max looks up from his laptop. Kelly comes running in and Max’s eyes widened, horrified, when she sees that Kelly is holding it.

The white shoes.

Max stands abruptly. The laptop in his lap falls to the floor and shatters. He curses and crouches down to pick it up and save what he can save. When he looks up, Kelly is sitting on the bed now and is trying the shoes on. Max shoves the damaged laptop aside and strides towards her. He’ll deal with the laptop later.

“That's not—”

“Oh?” Kelly’s face morphs in confusion. “It doesn't fit.”

Kelly chuckles yet it sounds empty and dread pools in Max’s stomach.

“You bought me shoes many times already. There’s no way you’ll get my shoe size wrong.”

Max takes the shoes from her hand quickly and he puts them back carefully in the box.

“That's not for me,” Kelly states.

“It’s not for you,” Max echoes.

“Then who’s it for, Babe?”

Max doesn't answer. Instead, he avoids her gaze.

“Max Emilian Verstappen, who’s the shoes for?” Kelly is seething now.

For the first time in their two nearly three year long relationship, Max and Kelly get into a screaming argument. They get into arguments as all couples do, but never ones with screaming and crying and too much anger in one room.

“I can't go on like this anymore,” Kelly cries. “I can't. I let it go when you made me wait because you celebrated her birthday with her family. I let it go when you made her that crochet bag. I let it go when you bought a billiard table and brought it into our home because she likes playing billiards—”

“I tried breaking up with you!” Max roars and he sees Kelly flinch. “And you told me not to. You used Penelope so I wouldn't break up with you—”

“Do not even say my daughter's name—”

“It's true!” Max throws his hands in the air like a man gone mad. “I told you in fucking July that I think I’m losing feelings for you! You told me to not break up with you because Penelope already thinks of me as her father and it’ll break her heart if I kick you out of my house! I am NOT her father, Kel, her father’s Daniil! You only want me because I can give you everything you want! Money, pride, and a fucking father figure for your child!”

Kelly strikes his cheek. Sharp, fast, and strong. Max remains still in shock and stares ahead.

Kelly has officially become the second person in this world who has raised a hand at Max.

“I hate you,” Kelly utters it with so much intensity. “I hate you. We’re done.”

She leaves quickly.

Max’s phone buzzes.

you: hey champ. race is on in an hour n a half. u good to go?

max: yeah

max: i’ll be there soon

you: i’ll wait for u

max: you always do

Max races with the guilt that he's a cheating asshole. His mother will not be proud of it once she learns that her son has dated a girl and idiotically realized that he’s in love with his manager halfway through the relationship.

Despite the emotional turmoil that swirling inside him, Max takes P1 and becomes a third-time WDC. He celebrates with the team. You excuse yourself, saying you have something important to do, and Max doesn't bother asking you to stay because he knows he’ll visit you in your hotel room later with a cold can of beer. It’s become your ritual now.

He drinks with Daniel, Yuki, and Checo. Five bottles in, he spills everything. He pukes. It tastes disgusting. His world turns into a hazy blur. You came to his rescue because that's what you always do.

Max is so dumb for taking so long in realizing that he's in love with you. It's always been you. You and your dumb considerate attitude and your snarky personality and your crude mouth. He never realized how horrifyingly enormous his desire for you is until its right there in front of him with its mouth wide open, ready to swallow him whole.

you: landed

you: thanks for the jet

you: talk soon gotta get to papa 1st

max: ok

max: stay safe

max: your dad will be alright dont worry

you: i hope so

It has been seven days since the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix, three days since you left Monaco, two days since your last conversation in Instagram, and a day before Max flies to Belgium to celebrate the holidays with his mother and sister and his sister’s family.

max: are you okay?

max: just landed in belgium

max: mum and vic says hi

max: hey it's been a week now

max: is your dad okay?

max: im worried

max: call me soon please

max: happy holidays

max: or merry christmas

max: whatever you celebrate there in america

max: yeah i greeted a little too early

max: you didn't answer my call

max: im friends with logan now by the way

max: we talk at times

max: im trying to get him into sim racing

max: maybe it'll help him improve

max: happy holidays

max: i called your cell

max: you know christian just told me something funny

max: he sent an email this morning with a list of candidates for my 2024 manager

max: he said you resigned

max: very funny

max: please tell me you didn't

#max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader #formula 1 #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen x you #f1 imagines #manager!reader #mv33 x reader #mv1 #mv1 x reader #mv33

761 notes · View notes

sparkrls · 2 months

Text

delayed proposal

MASTERLIST

Summary: in which Harry’s got a few secrets up his sleeve and Y/N just wants to know if he’s going to propose

Author’s Note: this is the blurb i was talking about with bandmates!harry x y/n. remember to like and reblog because i crave validation. love ya <3

Word Count: 1.1k

•••

“Are you going to propose soon?” Was the last question Harry expected to be uttered out of Y/N’s bright pink lips.

It was just another Sunday night, the couple trying to enjoy those last fleeting moments of weekend relaxation before Monday arrived with the usual burden and obligations of being working adults.

In little less than 12 hours, Y/N would be back to her 9-5 job being an assistant to a high-class executive of a finance company. Her boss had too much authority for being so irresponsible and more money than anyone would need in a lifetime. What a luxury it must be to have your dad pass down a company you didn’t know how to run down to you.

Her boss wasn’t a horrible person, he was quite respectful and kind when asking her to do tasks, he was just a very exploitative executive. He had learned from his father to be unbending and demanding.

Y/N’s work paid a good wage, enough for her to pay her bills and still have a bit left. She wasn’t one to buy luxuries, though, preferring to save money up so she could one day quit her 9-5. And then dedicate herself to the things she did every day after work: picked up her red electric guitar, adorned a black skirt that bordered on too short, and perform for (currently small) crowds of people who cheered her band on as they played.

There wasn’t anything Y/N loved quite as much as the rush of being on stage, the bass making the stage shake with each loud thrum, sticks clashing with plates of a drum and the velvet voice of an angel, Harry singing through the microphone and his eyes on her and her fingers moving over the fret of the guitar.

They played small clubs and rundown bars, getting payed a poor wage for the extrenous effort used to get four adults with full time jobs to align their schedules in order to rehearse. Sometimes all they got were free drinks, but they took what they could get and did it for the love of it.

That was how they got here, on Harry’s couch, his arm draped around her shoulders, and her head on his chest. They were watching Bluey, the way they did most nights they spent together. He would always roll his eyes when Y/N suggested it, pretending to hate it, but she knew it was his favorite show, and he always cried at the emotional episodes.

Their instruments lay forgotten on the table, his blue guitar next to her red one, as they’d spent most of the afternoon drinking beer and writing a new song.

It was a question that had been lingering in the back of Y/N’s mind, and she wasn’t quite sure why she chose that moment to blurt it out, but she did. “Are you going to propose soon?”

Harry’s gaze turned to her, eyebrows raised in light surprise, a small breath exhaled between his lips in a faint chuckle. “What?”

It was too late to take it back, so Y/N sat up and told him, “You’ve always talked about wanting to settle down and get married.” His features remained in small confusion. “We’ve been together for a while. Are you going to marry me?”

“Well, of course I’m going to marry you,” Harry said, like it were some scientific fact that everyone knew and was unchangeable. “You’re my forever, baby. I’ve written about a hundred songs about it.” His lips turned up in a smile. That smile he wore every time he told her he loved her, with a cocky and smug edge as if he were teasing her, laced with affection.

“I don’t mean we have to get married this instant, but I just, I guess we’ve never talked about if we were getting engaged or when and I-“

“Baby,” Harry cut off her nervous rambling, chuckling. He kissed her, soft lips with cracked edges from the cold and dry weather. “I already know what ring I’m going to buy. I’m just saving up for it.”

Y/N’s mind blanked for a moment. “You’re already thinking about rings?” Her lips parted in surprise.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yes, silly girl. You’re not the only one thinking about marriage.” He smiled at her, reassuring her that he was just teasing. “In case you haven’t noticed yet, I’m hopelessly in love with you.”

“Oh,” Y/N said, still in shock. Here she was, getting all nervous and insecure about marriage and he had already been planning to propose. Her question now seemed a bit foolish. She looked up at him and said, “You know I don’t need some needlessly expensive ring, right? You could buy it on Aliexpress and I couldn’t care less.”

Harry looked at her with slight amusement. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah,” Y/N said with a small nod. “It’s stupid to spend money on a ring when it doesn’t make much of a difference.”

Harry sighed. “Baby, it’s not about the ring being expensive. It’s about the ring being a symbol for my devotion to you. And I want my devotion to be apparent in the beauty of it.” He tapped the finger on her left hand where the ring would lay. “No, I don’t have to spend money on an expensive ring. That’s why I’m not just getting a huge diamond. I’m getting something you’ll love.”

“But it’s expensive and it’s a waste of money on a simple ring-“

“Is it just a ring? Or is it a symbol of matrimony, of us being together forever?” Harry said gently, correcting her statement. “Not to mention you’re going to be wearing that ring every day ‘till you die.”

Y/N made a sound of contradiction. “Unless we get a divorce.”

Harry stared at her blankly for a few moments. He deadpanned, “Not funny.”

“Kinda funny,” Y/N said with a small smile.

She waited for Harry’s stern gaze to soften with adoration the way it always did. It only took a few moments for his composure to crumble and he leaned in close to her. His nose grazed against hers as he muttered quietly, “You’re going to be the death of me.”

The way he said it sounded like a declaration of love. Everything he said to her did. Because his love could never be called in to doubt. It shone through every word he uttered, every song he wrote, every thing he did.

His lips locked onto hers once again, the tension in his muscles melting away as if all he needed to feel complete was to be pressed against her. To have every inch of skin surrounding her, the taste of beer still on her tongue, and the scent of spring enveloping his senses.

“I’m going to marry you,” Harry uttered, an oath murmured against her lips before placing a hand on the back of her neck, pulling her close once again.

482 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

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haztory · 3 months

Text

['sex' by the 1975]

⤷ atsumu miya x f!reader; best friends, references to infidelity, pining, sexual content (w.c 3.1k)

“it’s not sex.” he insists between mouthfuls. a drop of mustard dots the corner of his mouth. you stare incredulously.

“are you joking?” you ask. atsumu just shrugs his shoulder, intense focus saved for the burger held in his hands. practically inhaling a third of it in one bite as he brings it up to his mouth.

“‘s not like it’s the real thing.” he bobs his head side to side in consideration of the sandwich before he’s grabbing at the fries in your lap, “can i haf some.”

the carton lays practically emptied from his pilfering next to your abandoned chicken nuggets. three remaining, absent of consumption in favor of a bewildered stare at the man seated beside you on his bed.

“fingering is penetration, that’s sex.” you say simply.

atsumu raises a brow, “yer gyno having sex with ya?”

“that’s different.” you level a stare at him, one that’s serious and fierce and that communicates everything you mean in the single look alone. he meets it with one of his own, familiarity and uncommunicated languages all the rage between the two of you. “she doesn't make me cum.”

“neither does yer boyfriend.” he shrugs, taking another large bite of his burger as you screech in offense. your hand meets his bicep with a sharp slap and he grabs at it in pain. “ow! ya were the one that told me that!”

”some people take a minute to figure it out.”

”sounds like its taking a lot longer than a minute.” he mutters to himself. “look, its a lost cause. just dump the guy before it gets anywhere. ya haven’t had sex yet, he’s got a weird face, dude cant tell a fake orgasm from a real one. why are ya fighting me on this?”

“fingering is sex! your body count would be zero if fingering didnt count.” you insist loudly and atsumu rolls his eyes. he crumples the foil his burger came in and throws it across the room, cheering loudly when it makes it into the bin in the corner of his room.

his room is much the same since the last time you visited. photos of passing years sit framed on the desk— an image of he and osamu with their arms wrapped around each other, taken right before atsumu left for the olympics. another of you and atsumu placed right next to it, you leaning over his shoulder and him laughing loudly, beer bottles held deftly in hands and drunken flushes decorating your faces. momentos of faded high school memories, interspersed with flashes of young adult realities.

its more sophisticated than it once was. minimal in furniture, and of the items that decorate the room they’re the perfect reflection of a twenty-four year old athlete. his closet is lined with designer gifted clothes, but his desk chair remains stacked with undone laundry, the basics of his everyday life found in the plush cushion more than on the hangers. the jacket you’re currently wearing was stolen from the top of that pile just after delivering a pointed comment at how cold he keeps his apartment.

its a far cry from the bedroom he used to share with his brother, the one you remember at the dusk of previous memories. it was cramped and contained, lines between the two boys constantly blurred and you having to learn rather quickly where to step and when. but even now, as he lives on his own in a city a bit further from you than you’re comfortable with, not much has changed. you still sit on the left side of the bed and he takes the right; you still eat burgers on his bed and steal his jackets, and he throws papers into trash bins and insists he could’ve made it professional were he not already in volleyball; you still moan and complain about the woes of daily life and he still listens to them endlessly, interjecting the same amount of dumb enthusiasm as you know him to have.

there is still much in common that remains between he and you. trusted familiarity, endless comfort; a bubble that remains whole and precious, unaltered despite life dealing its hand to you. you’re convinced there’s no one else in the world that gets you quite like atsumu does.

there’s also no one in the world that works you up, quite like atsumu does.

atsumu stands from the bed, retrieving your own trash from your lap and chucking the rest of it in the bin. lithe and lean, he moves with a body that is sculpted to perfection as he turns off the overhead light and instead turns on the desk lamp, submerging the room in the lowly warmth of its glow. days are shorter now and the sun has just made it return home, leaving you to the dim luster of a pleasant comfort.

its quiet, intimate. words entirely inappropriate to describe the weekly hangout with your best friend of seven years.

pushing thoughts aside, you fight to remember what the whole point of the conversation was about. a boyfriend, right. your boyfriend.

right.

“and he does not have a weird face, he’s just… interesting. it’s what i liked about him.”

“revolting. i’m this close to spiking a ball in his face. it would be plastic surgery for the dud.”

“you’re being mean.” you tell him.

atsumu scoffs loudly, “and yer being stupid! yer the one that’s complaining to me about it. yer really gonna date a guy who can’t figure it out when he fingers ya? what happens when ya actually have sex with the bozo?”

“it takes practice. i don’t blame him for not being able to get me there on the first try. i see him later tonight so i’ll talk to him about it. it’s hard to figure out how to turn someone on and then try to, you know, get me there—“

“woahwoahwoah—timeout.” atsumu hold his hands perpendicular to one another, forming a ‘t’. his eyebrows practically touch the hairline of his bleached hair. “he doesn't even turn you on?”

“not everyone is good at everything, like you.” you mean it sarcastically, but it comes out short and meek. it’s embarrassing to have to cover for the misgivings of your current beau, but there’s an obligation to. a point to make, especially to the man in front of you.

you’ve met the ex-girlfriends, heard their feedback for the man before you. an average of six out of ten in boyfriend material, but he knocks the ball out of the park when it comes to the bed—or so you’ve heard.

(aya, the most recent girl to have made her grand exit, followed you on instagram and asked you to not be a stranger. whether that was so she could have her in for atsumu or because she really wanted to be friends is still up for debate, but the gesture ended with a message in your directs.

[9:17] it sucks, he’ll always be more in love with volleyball than any girl he could ever date. and even if he didn’t, you’re his number two anyway, so there’s really no way i can win.

[9:20] i’m super sorry, aya. if it’s any consolation, i really liked you two together. he’s just slow, i’m sure you guys will figure it out.

[9:20] you were our biggest argument.

[9:20] so no, i don’t think we will.

[9:21] i’ll miss that dick tho, best orgasm of my life. rip

there’s not much you can say to a message like that. there’s not much you can say to the surge of smugness that courses through you either, so you don’t.

you don’t tell atsumu about it.)

“alright. sit up then.”

his voice startles you. “what?”

suddenly, he stands before the side of the bed, looming horribly tall over you as he peers down at you. he shoves his hands in the pockets of his gray sweatpants, the fabric unintentionally pulling down ever so slightly and the waistband of his black boxers peeking out in greeting. the light of the desklamp casts a halo over his silhouette.

your attention is drawn upward and it’s hard to deny the familiar pang that tends to strike through you every so often in times like this. the simple effect of being near him. atsumu is unfairly handsome, and while it’s hard to put a name to the feeling that pulses inside of you when the light catches him just right or when a smile is even more charming than usual, the ache is always the same.

it’s fleeting, you convince yourself. something you refuse to settle on for too long. contexts and suppressed hopes pushed to the back of your mind along with the other unspoken things.

“come on.” he gestures two fingers upward. “i’ll show ya how easy it is to turn a girl on.”

its curiosity that has you standing up on your knees on the comforter, nothing more. its the wonder of how exactly your best friend makes his move on women that leads you to be so close to him, chests practically touching. breaths intertwining as atsumu stares a kind of serious into you that you’ve never been in the receiving end of before.

“im gonna touch ya.” his voice is low and your heart beats erratically in your chest. you nod.

lifting his right hand, cold fingertips run across the heated skin on the back of your arm. digits trailing upward as he paints a pathway up. and it’s nothing—just his hand on your arm, nothing new or different, and yet your breath hitches. innocent in theory, but something solidifies on atsumu’s face, the familiar signs of determination playing out on his face. it’s less babied now, more formed and angular with the growings of an adult man, but it’s the same focus in his eye, the same clench in his jaw.

his fingers trail up then down, repeating a circular figure on your skin. the sounds of your mingling breaths the only whispers between you two. your eyes dart down to his lips, but his stay fixed on you. studying every flicker of your eye, every inhale.

his fingers break from their pattern and trails down to your wrist, then your palm, then your own fingers. tracing them, dancing with them, intertwining them slightly only to pull them away.

“we should stop.” you whisper after a moment of his caress.

“why?” he asks and a quick glance to his gaze reveals that he knows why. he’s just making you spell it out.

it’s unfortunate that the only reason you want to stop is out of principle, and not because you truly have any reservations about any of this. your boyfriend of three months all but an annoying buzz in your ear.

“this feels like cheating.” you tell him simply. atsumu cocks his head to the side, charming smirk pulling across his lips.

“i’m touching yer arm. this isn’t anything, yet.”

“you shouldn’t be touching my arm like this.”

“why? cause it’s working, right?” his voice drops to a low rumble, words vibrating through you and shooting straight to your core. “see how easy it is?”

“that means this is cheating then, right?” the question is posed, but it’s obvious it’s more to convince yourself than him. because all that he’s done is touch your arm and you’ve felt the bubbling of that unnamed something heat within you. it feels the exact same as it did seven years ago when you met him; feels identical to the moment four years ago when a drunken night led to a drunken kiss that was forgotten about the next day; feels the exact same whenever he looks at you like he does now, like you're open for the taking. a pointedly very different response to the dread that comes when getting intimate with your actual boyfriend.

and while atsumu may be doing this to prove a point, to rub it in your face that he was right and you were wrong, you don’t trust that you’ll be able to not carry this with you. to not want more than you should.

“nah.” he says simply, knowingly. “if i kiss you then it’s a problem.”

“oh, so kissing is cheating, but fingering isn’t?”

“can you shuddup? always runnin’ that damn mouth.” he renders you quiet.

satisfied with your silence, he brings his left hand to cup your jaw, thumb and index finger grasping your chin and tilting your head to the left, leaving your neck exposed. he leans in, nose tracing a line up the column of your neck until he meets the juncture between that and your jaw. it’s a simple movement, and yet it feels like eternity in his hands. his breath hits steadily against the expanse of your cheek as he whispers into your ear. “does he touch ya like this?”

the gasp you release is guttural.

the arm previously fiddling with your fingers quickly wraps around your waist, pulling you flush to him. you have no choice but to embrace him with your own arms, hands cupping the back of his neck to steady yourself. it’s impulse to run them down the expanse of his back, to feel the muscles that he’s worked so hard for, but you resist. keeping yourself locked on his neck and nothing more, as though you being pliant to his ministrations wasn’t jeopardizing enough.

his thumb inches upward, stroking the corner of your lips sweetly. “does he take his time with ya? cause i would.”

its then that his lips meet the skin of your neck, tingles erupting from the connection. all of its effects causing an inadvertent clench within you. “it’s not about shoving fingers inside and just doing it. its about doing it the way you like it. and i’d make ya tell me how ya like it. since yer always runnin’ that damn mouth, might as well put it to good use.”

its all-encompassing, the traitorous burn between your thighs. and yet, this is the unnamed something, all that you’ve pushed away.

“astumu—” you whine and its in that exhale of yours that he releases a sigh of his own. one that almost sounds restrained.

“tell me to stop.” he says quickly, lips mouthing against your neck as he utters the words.

and you don’t want him to. not really. the desire is feverish, unlike anything you’ve felt before and to end this is to end the sweetness of something you’ve yet to taste. if it were to be with anyone you would want it to be with him.

you could take the teasing, the “i-told-you-so” from osamu, the obliteration of a friendship for the uncertain promise of something more. but it isn’t right. not like this. if mountains were to come to a head, you want it to happen because they were gravitated to each other, not because the earth told them to do so.

“stop.” you tell him, and it’s like a hot brand that strikes him. he’s immediately pushing away from, untangling his limbs from you and stepping back into the swath of darkness in the room.

his breaths are deep and heavy, that much you can tell from the distance. shuttering exhales that wrack his chest. you can hardly make out his irises, only see the intensity of dark pupils. it’s hard to believe that he could be feeling the way you do, just from the simple touch alone. a quick glance down to his grey sweatpants proves otherwise.

a moment, then two, pass by. ragged breaths filling the distance, words spoken in the silent language you’re both fluent in.

“does this mean i’m easy then?” you ask quietly, an effort to ease the wall of tension.

“no.” he shakes his head gently, “just means i know ya.”

he knows what he means to say, the words and all of their yearning practically knocking against his teeth to escape. it’s the long haul, almost a decade long game of carefully advanced chess pieces to get to this point. blocked, temporarily, by the appearance of the new guy. a boyfriend of yours that atsumu met once, a guy he barely attempted to learn the name of. for reasons of his own, their knowing pertinent only to him. held deeply within the urges of being seen, the desires of having you wholly, completely.

there are plenty of other ways that he could do this—probably be more eloquent about it. admit pushed away feelings when you’re not in the midst of ranting about how your boyfriend just can’t get you off.

but the tension irks him. thick enough to cut a knife, always following the two of you in the long held stares and closeness in which you two gravitate towards each other. the answer to your boyfriend problem is standing right in front of you. he knows what he wants you to do when you see your boyfriend later tonight.

there are certain shoes that atsumu is convinced he could fill better than your boyfriend.

your face is flushed, and the desk lamp makes you look angelic under the lowlights, and you're wearing his jacket like you always do in a way that makes him believe it was always meant for you. and he’s not entirely convinced, even without the cloud of lust that hangs over him, that you don’t want this just as bad as he does.

osamu once said that atsumu wouldn’t admit his feelings to you even if they hit him over the head. they’re here, now. settling in the distance between you two, bobbing in the capsizing waves of want. they ache to be spoken, knock repeatedly against his gritted teeth.

but a choice is made in that moment, with you looking at him as wild as you are. atsumu will admit to the selfish and prideful part of himself, but this—you— aren’t something to just take. the taste of your neck, the feel of your body against him, it must be given to him, earned. not because he needs to make a petty point, but because you want him to.

he cares for you too much to be reckless in how he plays his cards. even if osamu will bust his balls for it later.

you have a boyfriend. and he can’t force you to change that. it wouldn’t be right, he’s given you the taste, he hopes it will be enough.

“like that.” he says after a moment, pushing down his pride and long held desires for you. “tell him ya like it like that.”

a/n: why is it that whenever i stop writing for kuroo, the one i always want to write for is atsumu. also big ups for my beta who entertains me and proofreads me at all hours of the day. i love you sanju!!!!!!

#miya atsumu x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu miya x reader #hq x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu #atsumu fic #i love a best friends trope wtf #also i promise i was writing my boss kuroo fic and then i heard this song and was derailed for THREE DAYS #BIG THANK YOU BY THE WAY TO MY BETA

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strlingsav · 1 year

Text

Jealousy

– Simon "Ghost" Riley x F!Reader

— Simon gets jealous.

Explicit sexual content under the cut. Read at your own risk.

The room smelled of Price's cigar smoke and spilled beer; the consequences of poker night. Price, Gaz, Soap, yourself and Ghost were perched around the table, placing bets before the next round. It was a great way to blow off post-mission steam, and steal money from your teammates. You hadn't been so lucky thus far, Price was particularly skilled.

Your gaze lifted to study your opponents, holding your cards close to your chest. Price kept his cigar in his mouth, thick, white smoke trailing from his lips. Gaz had his brows furrowed, concentration on his features. Ghost sat beside you, hunched over the back of the chair. He too was surveying the room, cold eyes raking over the faces of his teammates. Soap was almost giddy, he was terrible at hiding how good his hand was.

You weren't particularly interested in cards, but you played anyway to pass time. It was entertaining from your end of the table, watching the chaos unfold as your teammates indulged one-too many beers. You preferred to stay sober- you weren't very experienced with the game, unlike Price and Ghost. You needed every bit of your sober disposition to play.

Your eyes drifted to Ghost, who had been burning holes in the side of your head. You blinked innocently at him, fluttering your lashes. A vicious tactic, you knew that, but the way his eyes raked over your face was worth it- you knew it would get to his head. But as you studied his face, his brow quirked up, and you saw the fabric of his mask shift over his mouth; he was smiling. You quickly broke the tension before anyone caught on to the silent exchange, redness engulfing your cheeks.

It came to the showdown, and as the men laid their cards out on the table, there was silence. Grunts of disapproval and low murmurs of frustration broke the air as they scanned their cards, comparing hands to each others. You looked out, over your cards, your eyes meeting Soap's gaze. He still held his cards, waiting for you to move.

"Go on then," He urged, hiding a smirk.

"Don't look so smug," You teased. "I'm about to ruin your night."

Soap let out a chuckle. "You could ne'er ruin my night."

You raised your brows. "Even if I take all your money?"

"I could list a couple ways you could make it up to me," He grinned.

Gaz groaned, far too familiar with Soap's antics. You nearly rolled your eyes, his comments were just a way to get in your head.

"You couldn't pay me to listen to that," You screwed up your nose.

"I could just show ya," He leaned forward. "I'm free later this evenin' if you're up for it."

You laughed. "You need to get laid, Sergeant, you're like a dog in heat." You shook your head.

"You offerin'?" He was grinning ear to ear.

"Enough," Ghost's voice interrupted the tension, almost soiling the playful mood. "Lay 'em out."

Your head snapped to look at him, now wearing an unreadable expression behind the mask. His eyes were stoic, body rigid, more so than usual. He had little to no patience, but he usually didn't mind Soap's ribbing, it was cheap entertainment.

You furrowed your brows in response, and he turned his attention to the Scot across from you, avoiding your gaze.

Soap laid out his cards, splaying them out before him. A straight. He sat back, hands behind his head, a grin on his face. You, in return, set your cards out, showcasing your winning hand; four of a kind.

Soap's face fell, mouth opening in shock as he stared at your cards on the table.

"Steamin' Jesus," He sighed. "You oughta be cheatin'."

"Don't be a sore loser," You smiled, leaning forward to collect the pot.

Soap was about to respond, when Price cleared his throat.

"Better luck next time," He said, hand clasping down on Soap's shoulder. "'M off to bed."

Soap still sat in disbelief as the Captain stood from the table. He took his beer with him, puffing his cigar as he left the room. Gaz and Soap finished the last of their drinks, and you pocketed your profit- Soap watched you with a glare. The rest of you decided to call it a night, cleaning up the remains of the cards and chips.

Ghost stood to his feet, finishing the last of his bourbon. You followed, creeping behind him when the others retreated to bed.

"Will you be joining me in my room tonight, Lieutenant?" You asked, a sultry tone to your voice.

He recognized it immediately, wanting desperately to follow, but he had already fabricated hallucinations behind his eyes of the Sergeant, and you- his girl. Soap hovering over you, privy to the soft whines from your lips, curves of your body, defiling your pussy- it made him sick. Only he had access to those intimate moments, or so he thought.

His chest bubbled with unspoken anger. He fought within himself, trying to rationalize, fight for you, but he inevitably gave in to the jealousy that clawed at his throat. It was the path of least resistance, to believe the worst from those closest to him. It was a familiar embrace.

He didn't say a word, his body tense as you slid your palms around his waist, easing into the gaps between his tactical vest.

"Someone could see," He said gruffly.

A lie- a white lie to give himself space. He knew no one would be coming back, not with the copious amounts of liquor indulged and the late hours passing by quickly.

You pulled away, a bit thrown by his rejection. It landed in the pit of your stomach, reached up into your chest and stole your breath. His tense disposition alerted you to the fact that something wasn't right, not since he'd snapped at the Sergeant.

"Alright," You sighed. "I'm going to bed," You fumbled with your hands, anxiety settling into the pit of your gut.

He set his drink down. "Be there in a bit."

Ghost was never usually so quiet when the two of you were alone, and certainly didn't deny your touch.

You nodded, choking down your questions so not to worsen his mood. Ghost excelled at hiding his feelings, on the rare occasion he found something that angered him. He wasn't fond of talking, of telling you when you pissed him off, so you kept your prodding to yourself until necessary.

With one last look over his back, you let him be, returning to your bunk.

You stripped out of your clothes, changing into your shorts and T-shirt after brushing your teeth. You waited with trembling hands, your anxiety increasing with each passing moment. You didn't know what to expect, who to expect. Ghost, or Simon. You didn't want to go to sleep with Simon angry, and his sour mood was gnawing at you. You wanted to fix it.

You settled into bed, blankets tucked under your arms. You tried to focus on your book, mindlessly running over the pages without absorbing a single thing. You were too preoccupied with Simon. You let out a sigh, listening for the sound of boots. Listening for him.

The door finally opened, and Ghost stepped inside. The air was thick with silent expectations, a waiting game. Who would break first, make the first move to say something- anything. More often than not, it was you.

You didn't mind being the mediator, you were excellent at communicating. It was ninety percent of your job. You only wished Simon would meet you halfway, but that wasn't the kind of man he was, and you'd learned to navigate it well enough. It was tiring, though.

You knew it wasn't that he didn't want to talk to you- he just didn't know how. How to express why he was angry. You were sure that before you, Simon fixed his anger by shooting things. Taking out his frustration on missions, on targets. He never needed to learn to communicate, he'd never had even a semblance of a relationship with anyone aside from his last girlfriend, when he was in his early twenties. He'd never been close enough to anyone to justify it.

You sat up, the book falling to the side as you readjusted in the bed.

Ghost began undoing the chest plate and other equipment strapped to his body. He was still quiet, and you watched with a frown.

"Simon?" You said quietly, gauging his reaction.

He looked over at you.

"What's bothering you?" Your voice was meek, uncharacteristically so, but you hated to see him that way and didn't want to push him even further.

He sighed, a heavy breath that sounded like it'd been trapped for days. He continued undressing, prepared to escape, to run from the conversation. But he knew you'd get it out of him.

"Simon," You said again. "Talk to me."

You tilted your head as he rearranged his things on the dresser.

"Nothin' to talk about, get some sleep," His voice was gruff, quiet, defeated.

"Talk to me," You repeated, your voice a bit weaker now.

"I said 's nothin'. Be fine in the mornin'."

"But you're not fine now. Just tell me."

You were getting worried now, stomach flipping. He paused, back flexing beneath his T-shirt as he straightened out. He turned on his heel to face you. He kept his mask on- another barrier between you, a reminder that even though you'd already clawed so deep through the layers of stone he built, there were still pieces of him you might never truly have.

"You wanna know?" He asked.

You nodded. "Course I do."

He shook his head. His shoulders tensed. You could tell he was holding back, not wanting to dive into the conversation headfirst. He was avoiding the question, his arms at his sides.

Finally, he spoke. Monotone, bleak- unencumbered by tact or empathy. It was a simple question. He wasn't one for dancing around a subject, he wanted answers, if he was going to talk at all.

"You been fuckin' the Sergeant?"

His eyes were unforgiving, an endless abyss of darkness ready to swallow you whole and eat you alive. You felt the pressure of his gaze, an invisible force pushing you into submission. You weren't one of his targets, but you certainly felt like it.

You blinked a few times, his words shocking you to your core. It deeply unsettled you. A bitter taste on the back of your tongue as you digested his words. It was entirely out of the blue- an unfounded accusation.

In all the time you'd been together, not once had he ever shown any concern over the men you worked with. You thought he trusted you. It stung, hearing him ask you such a question, you were disappointed he saw you capable of that. Of hurting him- adding to the array of scars on his body and mind.

"W-what?" You shook your head.

"Answer me," He said, hands extending to grip the metal footboard.

"I- Why would you even ask me that? No, I haven't been fucking Soap," You exclaimed, pulling the blankets back to stand up off the bed.

"Seems he fancies you quite a bit."

"Simon," You breathed in, arms crossing over your chest. "I haven't slept with Soap."

He was still stoic as ever, eyes clinging to yours as he debated the candour behind your words. You could practically see the thoughts behind his mask, knew he was clenching his jaw, nostrils flaring as he sucked in deep breaths to keep his temper under control. He couldn't always hide from you behind his balaclava, you'd seen his anger before, in true form.

"That so?" He moved closer, his shoulders swaying as he stepped toward you.

"Yes," You breathed, hopeful he'd believe you.

He was silent, only the sound of his breathing filled the air.

"You bein' honest with me?"

His skepticism was palpable and it broke your heart, even more than the question.

You'd given the relationship your all, everything you had. Given Simon your all. Every single piece of yourself was out in the open, ready for the taking, he just had to ask. You'd bend over backwards to please him, do anything to keep him. The accusation made you sick to your stomach, wondering where you went wrong, why you'd made him feel that way.

"Yes, I've never been unfaithful to you."

Your eyes met his, unwavering. You had nothing to hide- never had. Not from him. You ached to show him just how devoted you were. But your rational thought process was no longer applicable- Simon had tasted betrayal before, over and over. He was all too familiar with the feeling of a knife in his back, the aching pain that bombarded his entire body. The sting of humiliation, of leaving his peace of mind in the hands of another and having it torn to pieces. You knew he needed more, needed the reassurance, and he didn't need to ask.

"Ask Soap yourself- I don't care." Your pulse pounded in your ears. "Whatever you need to do to believe me."

He shifted his chin upwards, a weight lifting off his shoulders. Relief washing away the ache. He had a difficult time trusting, believing that you wouldn't hurt him- but you never lied. Always said what you meant, and you never burned him with false promises.

He went against every instinct in his body, every nerve screaming at him to run, flee, push you away. But even he knew that was his conditioning, his instincts weren't created in a world that had you- it was far different then.

"'S fine," He said quietly. "Don't need to."

You let out a sigh, still trembling with confusion and nausea. His chest rose and fell quickly.

"I ain't impressed with the way he talked to you," He said, moving closer.

"He only said it to get under my skin. Besides that, he thinks I'm seeing someone back home. I thought you knew that."

"I do-" He sighed. "S'pose I jumped the gun. Just- imaginin' you, with him," He stopped himself, knuckles white around the iron.

You nodded, still standing with your arms crossed. He would never apologize- would never say, 'I'm sorry', but his actions spoke far louder than his words.

He sat down on the bed, his hands reaching out for your thighs. You let him touch you, though you still felt a bit of resentment for his false accusations. You had to let go, had to remind yourself he only knew what he knew, what'd been done to him before.

He pulled you onto his lap, hands sliding around your waist as he tugged you closer.

"Y'still want me?" He asked, eyes flashing from your waist to your eyes.

"I always do," You said softly.

He nodded, a quiet moment of reconciliation, understanding. You knew that to outsiders it would look strange- the silent reunion between you. Apologies and forgiveness that were never really spoken.

"Take my mask off," He said, the timbre of his voice rousing the ache for him that lay dormant, sleeping until woken up by his touch.

You obliged, lifting the cotton fabric from his face, pulling it off to see the disheveled brunet hair beneath. Your eyes fell to his full lips, then you took your time savouring the way his crooked nose flattered his face. His lashes kissed his cheekbones with every slow blink, dark eyes narrowing as he tried to read your thoughts.

He leaned forward, pausing for a moment to glance at your eyes, before he pulled you closer, barely touching your lips with his own.

He sighed deeply into your mouth, a relief to hold you, know you were his, tangible evidence that he was lovable, that someone would crawl through the barren trenches of his mind to know him. He was unbelievably grateful; skeptical, too, but he chose to leave his faith with you for safe keeping. He'd let down most of his walls, for you, a long time ago, and thus far you'd done nothing but nurture him, love him. You'd proven him right.

You lifted your hands to slide around the back of his head, fingertips gliding into his ruffled hair. You couldn't get enough of the taste of him; tobacco, bourbon. You would tattoo it on your tongue if possible.

He pulled away, taking in your face; your features that drew him in, set his gut on fire. He'd kill for your lips, set cities ablaze just to look into your eyes one last time. The obsession worried him, it terrified him, but he was already addicted, too far gone now to do anything but surrender. He was more than okay with that.

"Could rip the smug grin off his fuckin' face," He said, fingertips digging into your hips.

"I think that would get you discharged," You teased.

"I'd kill for you, sweetheart. Gettin' discharged ain't a problem."

By his tone, you knew he was serious. As disgusting as it made you feel, you enjoyed it. You must've been sick in the head, but you relished in it. The level of determination he had- it warmed you to your core knowing he was just as committed.

"Prison time, then?"

"For you, not a second thought."

He didn't waste any time tugging you back in for seconds, this time, guiding his tongue in your mouth, swiftly gliding against yours. You moaned softly, an unintentional reaction to the warmth shooting up your spine. He knew you loved the feeling of his tongue, the way he was heavy-handed when he kissed you- unforgiving as he took what he wanted.

"Take this off," He breathed, fingertips inching your shirt up.

You lifted your arms to cooperate. The cool air hitting your body, competing with the heat in your womb, lavished your body with goosebumps. His calloused hands cupped your breasts, eyes locked on your chest as he massaged gently, coaxing the sweet sounds of pleasure from your lips. His white-hot touch erased any other thoughts, your sole focus was his hands on your body.

You could feel the arousal seeping from your core, head tilting back to allow him full access to your body. His hand moved to press against your back, a flat palm that offered support and comfort. He took advantage, pressing his lips to your skin. First your neck, his tongue running over your jugular, pounding in your throat. He absorbed it with his lips, teeth softly biting into the malleable flesh.

He ducked his head to show attention to your breasts, wrapping his lips around the silky tissue, sucking gently. A flat tongue ran over your nipple, and a jolt of electricity shot through your spine. You were still clinging to his shoulders, back arching into him.

You breathed heavily, so delirious with lust, desire, any touch from him was like lighting a fuse. He beckoned you to stand, his fingers dipping into the waistband of your shorts. He waited for you, for your permission. You licked your lips, hands on his as you helped him slide the fabric over your thighs, landing on the floor.

He watched from a short distance, eyes raking over the tempting curves of your body, the incredibly silky glow of your skin. He too, licked his lips, his hands a bit rougher now as he pulled you back onto his lap. You gasped, falling against him, your thighs spread over his.

"You all mine?" He asked, head nuzzled against your temple, his gruff voice in your ear.

"Yes," You whispered. "Always."

"That's my girl."

His hand traced your thigh to your pussy, a gentle touch as he reached your clit. His gaze was locked on your expression, your lips parting, eyes shutting tightly. Your pussy was throbbing and needy, nearly burning with desire. You gasped. He peered down at your body, lips dragging against your neck.

His fingertips applied more pressure, relieving the dull ache, and he circled your clit. Your hips mindlessly drove forward, grinding yourself against his touch. He responded in earnest, moving his fingers quicker, harder.

Your head fell back as you basked in the pleasure coiling itself like a snake inside your womb. He had mastered your body, unraveling you in seconds like he did with his rifles. He had a knack for memorization, muscle memory, and your body responded the same way every single time.

He found pleasure in watching you squirm, pant and gasp, begging for his fingers. Faster, harder. He devoured your pleas, already one step ahead, feeling the way your hips moved, your waist twisted. When your fingers dug into his shoulders, pulling him into your chest, trying to merge yourself with him, he slid a finger inside you. He groaned approval against your jaw, savouring the slick warmth of your pussy, a shiver running through his spine as he remembered how you feel around his cock.

"Y'like that?" He asked, even though he already knew the answer.

You nodded frantically, eyes shut as you focused on the building tension in your gut. The way it enveloped you, tugging at every nerve in your body.

"I know you do, sweetheart, know just what you like."

"Fuck- yes, Simon," You moaned.

It was never enough, not until he filled you completely. But he couldn't resist the satisfaction of your pussy clenching around his finger, especially when he added a second, listening to the vulgar sounds of your wetness squelching around him.

He marvelled at the sight of your climax; head falling back, a whimper ascending into a moan, your forehead prickling with sweat. It was impossible to tear his eyes from you, to deny himself the vision of you coming undone on his hand. Your ribs shifting with every breath, hugging your breasts as you leaned back. He lifted his other hand to run over the ridges.

You shivered, relaxing into his body as the last of your orgasm died out, breathing against his chest. He enjoyed the silence, watching you recover. He didn't allow you much time, shifting to lie you down on the covers.

He lifted his shirt over his head, his temperature rising as a result of his efforts. He crawled between your thighs, biceps wrapping around your thighs to pull you closer.

You didn't have much say, and you didn't mind. You were pliable with him, a willing participant to his pleasure. He did what he wanted, and you agreed in every possible way.

His calloused palms engulfed the flesh of your outer thighs, an iron grip you could never- would never want to escape from. His chest was pressed firmly to the bed, head turned to lavish your inner thighs with delicate kisses.

He quickly surrendered to his desire, not feeling particularly strong-willed, and bit into your flesh, licking your wounds. The silken moisture of his tongue against your thighs had your hips shifting impatiently, and he relieved your suffering, relocating to your clit.

You sighed softly, hips bucking up into his mouth as a jolt ran through you, still sensitive. He devoured your movements, hands clamping down to restrain you while he licked over your clit.

"Y'taste so good, sweetheart," His muffled voice against you made you squirm.

Your fingers slid through his hair, tugging softly at every caress of his tongue, every time he'd wrap his lips over your clit and suck. Your muscles contracted, abdomen tightening as you fought the overstimulation. You wanted to give in, to give him everything he wanted from you.

But as his eyes met yours, your lips parting to accommodate your heavy breathing, you couldn't wait any longer. Couldn't handle your pussy fluttering with nothing to fill it.

"Please," You whispered, his eyes softening.

Watching his jaw move, his head turn side to side as he gorged himself on your juices, your voice broke with a whimper, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

"I need you," You said, lifting to your elbows. "Need to feel you inside me."

He sat up slowly, kneeling between your thighs. His lips were glistening with your arousal, chest wet from your cum seeping down toward the bed. You reached out to feel him, to run your fingers down his chest and torso. He shut his eyes briefly, nostrils flaring as he regained his breath and enjoyed your soft hands over his body.

Your eyes scanned his abdomen, drawn to the scars that littered it. It magnified your desire, your lust, the battle scars were an implication of survival, war. It was primal, the reminder that he was a man's man, ready to take all of you in one fell swoop.

"Say it again," He breathed, his hands still grasping your thighs.

"I need you inside me, Simon," You said, unabashed, free of any inhibitions.

"Yeah?" There was an inflection of mockery in his tone, but you ate up every bit of it. "Need my cock, don't you?"

"Yes, baby- I need you, need your cock." You were delirious with lust, whining and begging beneath him.

"That's what I like to hear," He nearly grinned. "Only I can fuck you how you need, ain't that right, sweetheart?"

You felt your pussy flutter again, mindlessly nodding as his hands rubbed up and down your legs.

"Please," You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, teeth biting down to distract from the jittery feeling inside you.

"Fuck," He cursed, leaning over you. "You make my cock hard, love."

You took his face in your hands, pulling him down to meet your lips. You devoured him, devoured the taste of yourself on his lips and tongue. Mostly bitter, a hint of sweetness, and the still remaining flavour of him. It was intoxicating.

He quickly undid his belt, aggressively yanking the buckle from the leather, pulling his briefs down to expose his cock. He ran his hand up and down his length, before pressing the engorged tip to your clit. He teased you with it, applying enough pressure to make your hips twitch. Slowly pushing down, his jaw dropped as your pussy swallowed him, squeezing him into the velvety walls.

A nasally gasp came from the back of his throat, Adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed his groans.

"This cunt was made just for me."

His lips beside your ear, you could feel the vibration in his voice. The rasp of his tone lavished your skin with goosebumps.

"Only you," You choked down your whimpers, turning your head to meet his gaze.

The first roll of his hips covered his cock in your arousal, the slick juices allowing him to glide deep inside. The depth knocked the wind from your lungs, and your hands clung to his back, nails digging into his muscles.

His pelvis rubbing against your clit, and he lowered himself to press his weight against your body. You welcomed the intrusion, moving a hand to the back of his head, cradling it as he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

His lips attached to your throat, feeling the moans and pleas as they passed your larynx. He swallowed them whole, pushing himself deeper, pulling back and repeating to hear the gasps and whimpers from your lips.

"God," You breathed, squeezing down with your muscles as you lurched forward, clinging to his head and shoulders. "So good, Simon. You fuck me so well."

"Bloody hell sweetheart," He grunted with effort. "Tha's 'cause this cunt is mine- all fuckin' mine."

"Shit, Simon," You gasped.

He groaned with approval, continuing his thrusts inside you, his cock grinding into you, massaging your walls.

"Touch yourself," He said, watching you drop your fingers to your clit immediately.

He moaned softly when he felt your pussy clench, and you arched your back for better access as you circled your swollen clit. He shifted upwards, allowing you space while driving his cock inside you.

Your eyes rolled back, choked gasps escaping as you focused on your orgasm, the way his body looked as he thrusted inside you. All muscles, flexing, glistening with sweat.

"I'm so close," You whimpered.

It was engulfing your entire body, the pleasure made your toes curl as you squeezed your thighs at his waist, rocking with his movements. You panted against his shoulder, biting softly at the taught muscle, which earned a groan.

"That's it," He whispered, encouraging you closer to your climax. "Cum on my cock sweetheart," He grunted in your ear.

You felt the fluttering of pleasure erupt from your clit, your head falling back to the pillow while you chest lifted to meet his. You pussy squeezed his cock, contracting, as your nerves were lit up with euphoria.

"Fuck," He gasped, his cock tensing as your pussy hugged him tightly.

He watched with bated breath, still as he could be while rolling his hips against yours, not wanting to disturb the sight before him. He consumed your moans, lips against yours in a sloppy kiss, teeth clashing as he bore down, thrusting even harder inside you.

You cried out, choking on your moans. He found satisfaction in breaking you down, watching you come undone on his cock, knowing no other man would ever see you the way he did, do what he did to you.

"'M gonna cum in this cunt," He panted.

"Cum in me, please," You were near tears, pussy beginning to feel raw from the amount of friction you'd experienced already. "Give me your cum."

"Take it, sweetheart- every fuckin' drop," He grunted as his pace slowed, hips jerking sporadically against yours as he began to release inside you.

He watched your pussy drain him, your cum around the base of his cock, white, creamy- it made him shiver.

He enjoyed the warmth of your pussy for a few moments, before pulling out with a cringe. He was overstimulated, but watching his cum begin to seep out of you mesmerized him. A true mark of his possession- the fleeting idea that it would take, and you'd be all his, carrying his child.

He knew it was a ruse, a dream spurred by testosterone and dopamine, but the thought clung to his mind for a while after- shamefully so. He never imagined himself as a father, never had the desire to bring anything similar to himself or his bloodline into the world. But as he looked over your spent form, your hands reaching for him, his bringing you into his chest, he wondered if it would be so terrible to have something that was also half of you.

You looked up at him with tired eyes, pieces of hair clinging to the sweat on your brow, lips red and puffy with irritation. You smiled softly, leaning up to kiss him, a delicate offering. He accepted with no hesitation, like it was second nature. And maybe it was. You'd more than earned his trust; maybe he could learn to ignore his instincts and give you all of him. You deserved it, he decided.

#cod mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost smut #simon riley smut #cod mwii #mwii #strlingsavwrites

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steddieas-shegoes · 4 months

Text

fairy porn crisis

for @steddieholidaydrabbles prompt 'bookstore au' wc: 964 rated m cw: dirty talk, implied sexual content tags: bookshop owner eddie, steve is having a sexuality crisis but subtly, flirting, getting together, modern au

📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖📖

"Thanks for covering for me, Wayne," Eddie said as he set his bag down behind the front desk, slightly out of breath from running from the bus. "Won't happen again."

"'S alright, son. Everything go okay with the counselor?" Wayne sipped from his mug, probably his fourth or fifth cup of coffee since he opened the shop that morning.

"Yep. Still on track to graduate in May."

Wayne's stipulation when he "sold" the bookshop to Eddie was that he still get his degree as backup. "Bookselling is a dangerous game and I won't have ya strugglin' if somethin' fails."

"Thatta boy," Wayne clapped him on the shoulder. "Been a slow morning. But your favorite customer is in the back."

Eddie felt his face heat up.

"He's not my favorite."

"Sure he isn't." Wayne rolled his eyes. "I'm off to get a beer with Dave. Call if you need me."

Eddie gave him a thumbs up as he checked over his emails, the one thing Wayne was terrible about doing when he was covering the store. There weren't many, never really were on Tuesdays.

He waited for Wayne to leave, the door chiming with his exit.

He jumped up and made his way around the counter, walking towards the back room hastily.

He found Steve sitting on the beanbag placed in the corner, book in his lap, face bright red.

Eddie squinted until he could see what book he was reading and nearly passed out.

His Ring was the first book in a series focused entirely on a group of queer mythical creatures. It was the only book of the series Eddie had read, and he'd only admit it under risk of death.

It wasn't that it wasn't good. It's just that it was basically porn.

And this one in particular focused on two male fairies, one who was gay and one who spent the entire first half of the book having a bisexuality crisis.

Steve was reading it with the prettiest blush on his face.

Steve, who up until this moment, passed as the straightest human being Eddie had ever met.

"Have you gotten to the part where Ereldi has to sit on Brelend's lap for an entire dinner?" Eddie asked.

Steve jumped and slammed the book closed, pushing it under his legs as if Eddie hadn't already called him out. "What are you talking about?"

"Stevie, I'm the last person to judge your reading habits. But I do have to ask why the sudden interest in queer fairy porn? You're usually reading sports memoirs and doing word searches."

In other words, 'are you interested in testing out your sexuality with me? I can pretend to be a mythical being if needed.'

"Just needed a change of scenery?"

"Are you asking me or telling me?"

Steve's blush deepened, and fuck, Eddie was about to be so unprofessional. Hopefully he wouldn't lose a customer over it, but it was a risk he had to take.

It's just that sometimes Eddie could swear Steve was watching him while he shelved books or swept the front room floors. And sometimes he caught him staring at him during his weekly storytime for kids where he gave out free books and cookies.

And Eddie always wanted to have Steve in his lap.

So.

"I." Steve refused to make eye contact, a sure sign that something was going on. "I just got curious. Heard someone talking about it and wanted to see if they were telling the truth."

"And were they?"

Steve didn't answer, so Eddie decided it was now or never.

"You know," he took a few steps closer to Steve. "I'm not usually one for those books. But there's something about the way they paint a very clear picture of how Ereldi rides Brelend in the forest that just draws me in." Another few steps. "Actually, Ereldi reminds me a bit of you."

Steve visibly gulped.

"But you wouldn't be interested in riding someone would you, Stevie? Prefer women to hop onto your lap and go for a ride?" Eddie's heart was racing.

And then it stopped completely when Steve gave the most unexpected answer he could have possibly given.

"I'd be interested in riding you."

Steve's wide eyes stared back at Eddie, daring him to make a joke, daring him to laugh.

Eddie wouldn't joke or laugh about this. He wasn't wasting this chance.

"Is the forest a requirement or could I go lock the front door and take you upstairs?"

Okay, so he couldn't not make a little joke.

"Forest sounds messy. Upstairs."

"Oh, I plan to make a mess of you regardless of location, sweetheart," Eddie leaned over Steve, foreheads touching, smirk growing as Steve's eyes closed. "Won't even have to get you hard, huh? The book did all the work for me."

Steve tilted his head back, lips puckering, searching for contact from Eddie's.

Eddie pulled away. "I close up in ten. You know the way upstairs?"

Steve's eyes blinked open as he nodded.

God, he was gonna be fun.

"You wanna be a good boy and wait for me up there?" Steve nodded and stood from the chair, wobbling slightly as he tried to gain his balance. "I want you naked in bed when I get up there, got it?"

"Um, I've never-" Steve started.

"Oh, sweetheart. I know. It's written all over you. I'm gonna take real good care of you, though. Better than anything you would read in that book."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah, sugar?"

"I really like you."

Eddie heard what he wasn't saying, knew without a doubt that he had to do this right or risk scaring him away from more than just the store.

"I really like you, too, Stevie." Eddie kissed his cheek. "You're in good hands."

"I know."

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #bookshop au

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cursingtoji · 7 months

Note

29 w/ Yuki jjk x fem reader? Im so gay for her 🫠

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 ┊ a fun night in with your horny rommie

ᥫ᭡ tags. roommate! yuki x fem reader, wlw, drunk sex, fingering, tribadism, lots of kissing (have you seen her lips), dom!yuki, mention of a strap, humping, she calls you babygirl. 1.3k words. The Clichés ™

“Here” Yuki hands you a cup of water, holding a second one for herself as she stumbles a little before sitting down across the couch.

Both you and your roommate left for a night out with friends, they decided to extend the night by going to a club but with a simple exchange of looks you both decided to go back home.

“Maybe I should’ve gone to the club too… I could blow some steam” she confesses getting comfortable on the couch and putting her feet on the cushions, you mirror her.

“Please, I’ve seen you reject every guy that offers to buy you a drink for the past two months” you laugh.

“I said nothing about a guy” she adds and an awkward silence settles, “Ya haven’t even considered I might be into girls too?” she sits up.

“We’ll…” you want to say you haven’t seen her with a girl before so you didn’t want to jump into conclusions.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

She gets closer and you retract your legs.

“Are you into girls?” her tone is lower, more seductive, you look into her hooded eyes, your vision is not as sharp due to all the alcohol you both consumed tonight.

Yuki’s hand sets on your thigh, where the thin fabric of your trousers is not enough to keep you from feeling her warmth.

Yuki is truly gorgeous, tall with golden hair and a phenomenal body that has people breaking their necks when passing by her.

She’s well aware of this too, since she has no problem walking with nothing but a pair a panties after she showers, the first time you saw her bare chest was when she was blowing her hair with the bathroom door wide open, she smiled and said she would be freeing up the bathroom in just a few minutes while you stood there mouth agape.

“I might be” you murmur looking up at her.

So when she leans in you don’t question or protest, she naturally settles herself between your legs and lowers till her lips are softly brushing yours.

“Am I your first?” he whispers, her breath has a faint beer and strawberry smell that intoxicates you even further.

“No” you stare at her glossy lips, that’s probably where the strawberry scent comes from.

“Liar” she hushes before capturing your lips, she does it very slowly, allowing her lips to gaze over yours, the lip balm helping create an easy slide motion. Her soft mewls go straight to your pussy as he sucks on your bottom lip, the make out session quickly turns you on, your legs are open for her and she doesn’t waste the opportunity to slide her hand between them and rubbing her palm on you, that’s enough for your mouth to open in a gasp and her tongue find yours turning the seductive kiss into something more urgent.

“Mmph you’re a good kisser” you breathe out when she sits up to pull her shirt off.

“‘m good at a lot of things” she winks helping you remove your pants. You can see she’s getting a bit more desperate as she doesn’t care about fully removing your top, only pushing it up along with your bra then pressing kisses on your breasts.

“How drunk are you?” you giggle softly combing her hair and pushing your breasts into her face.

“Mm drunk enough to make this more fun” she bites your nipple and you hiss “Can’t believe you were hidin’ these from me” she squeezes your boobs together and lap at both simultaneously, her face is face is flushed and all you want is for her to keep kissing you breathless.

The space on the couch is narrow for the two of you, yet she manages to lie down next to you, half of her body touching the couch and the other half on top of you.

Yuki got rid of her pants and bra previous to that, now her heavy breasts lay on top of yours while she keeps your thigh between her legs, softly grinding her soaked cunt on you.

Yuki is not the type to leave her partner unsatisfied, she has her fingers down your panties, making a mess on your underwear and the couch.

You search for her lips again, wanting to be as close to her as possible while she explores your intimacy, she gives in of course, even with her glossy eyes she can she the lust in yours, having your pretty moans echo through the dark living room sounds like a dream to her. So naturally she gives what you’re wishing for and kisses you again, and because she’s slightly above you, you have to angle your head higher.

Everything about your body screams submission to Yuki, having you like putty under her only contributes for the knot in her core threat to snap.

She cares about your pleasure too, but now she’s grinding faster, her fingers try to keep a steady rhythm in you as she drags her clit harder on your thigh with her tongue deep inside your mouth.

“Yuki. . .” you whimper slightly turning and having her hardened nipple gazing yours.

“Mmmph so good” she moans letting go of your lips to close her eyes and get lost in the feeling. You go for her neck, nibbling the soft skin and allowing yourself to feel her scent, identifying a bit of what the bathroom smells like after she showers, it’s intoxicating. She’s intoxicating.

The heel of her palm bumps into your clit ever so often, your hand find her breast, your palm feels tiny against her voluptuous boob, it’s so soft all you can think about is burying your head in them after a stressful day and having her play with your pussy.

“Fuck, ‘m cummin’ babygirl nnhg—” she has such beautiful moans you have to bite your lips to hear only her. Her thighs are strong, gripping yours hard as she rides out her orgasm twitching ever so slightly against you.

Yuki moves to be above you, pressing her whole body on top of yours then taking one of your legs and holding it high on her waist, you don’t realize what she’s doing until she moves your underwear aside and presses her warm cunt on yours.

You gasp loudly, “You like it? Dirty girl. . .” she smiles nibbling on your ear, “So wet, guys can’t make you this wet, can they?” you shake your head, her hip game is unmatched, got you thinking what could she do with a strap.

She slowly drags her pussy along yours, you have no idea who’s more wet, both your juices are now combined.

Maybe getting drunk with your roommate was the best idea you had so far, the relaxed state of mind made you forget everything and just surrender yourself to her, focusing on feeling every part of her against yours, feeling her swollen clit hit rubbing on yours as sounds of wet skin fill the room.

You finish moaning her name with your eyes closed and hands holding her ass so she wouldn’t get away from you.

“So pretty” she coos watching you fall apart under her.

Once the high of your orgasm settles, she kisses your lips then sucks your tongue on her plump lips, you’re still softly moaning on the mouth of the best kisser you ever met.

“Let’s go, this couch ‘s too small” she raises then fall in the couch before raising again and taking your hand.

You giggle together, stumbling on nothing since you can’t take your hands off each other and no one is sober enough to guide the other. Once you managed to find her bed she pulls you into her lap, lips back on yours as she plans another night to get drunk with you.

a/n. congratulations if you got this far now you’re officially into women. no take backs.

#yuki x reader #yuki tsukumo #yuki tsukumo x reader #yuki x fem reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #yuki smut

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nekassvariigs · 1 year

Text

Intentionally calling them Husband in scenarios, here's how to turns out.

Crocodile, Yamato, Ace, Law, Raighley, Usopp .

This will be a three? part series cause tumblr doesnt allow more pictures to be added for aesthetic ;-;

Part two will feature:Sanji,Zoro,Luffy,Katakuri,Sabo,Roger.

______________________________________________________________

You gambled away your berries at the infamous casino, not that you were of working class desperate for luck, it was fun watching the ball roll everytime with a little interest for securing a loaded paycheck.

a loud hiccup next to you a man chugged what looked to be beer, he looked so drunken out of his mind he didnt even care if he got in debt right this moment. "How ya doing ,yous a pretty little thing aint ya" he looked at you body wavering for balance.

"Good. You?" you tried not to get in contact with him as much possible not really needing to cause a scene.

"M' Alright, been winning loads t'nite. Whats a pretty thing like you doin' out here?" he rested his hand on his machene trting to support his head.

"Just waiting for my husband." you smiled a little, rolling another time.

"That so, who is he, i see noone ready to come for ya, reckon we could go back to mines?"

"No i dont reckon i could, he should be here in a moment anyway." you sigh, he was a little late, you took out a cigarrette from your bag, lighting it, taking a puff.

"Aye you look so lovely, is a shame yous with someone." the man was drunk spilling everthing he had for a chance.

"Ya think?" you sipped your martini.

" 'fcourse, id give ye the word yknow, show you all round the lands and oceans."

"That so? Are you rich?" you wanted to know since he had enough cash to get piss drunk and not care how much he wasted.

"M the richest here as far as i know, let me treat ya to a drink." he slurred his words not noticing the tall figure approaching behind you.

"You dont mind ordering for two by chance?" you smiled cheekily.

"Course not, everythin for you darlin."

he swatted a waitress ordering another two drinks.

"Say can i show ya round? I know this place good enough."

You took another puff from your ciggarette, fondling it between your fingers in an exspensive manner.

"Aye you ignorin me?"

"Ah there we go, lets light this place up," you thought finally exsposing the nature of this man.

He stepped infornt of you hand on your slot machene preventing you from another game.

"Fuckin hag," he hiccuped, ugh how close was this man from soiling himself with barf.

"Got held up a bit, sorry for being late." Crocodile kissed you, compleatley ignoring the fool by your side. You smiled into the kiss opening your mouth a bit to welcome his tongue, proceeding to have a full blown makeout infront of the drunken asshole.

You pulled away from him your lipstick slightly staining his lips.

"This is my husband, if you want to give me the tour youll have to confirm with him." The man looked pale as a ghost upon seeing crocodile.

"He thinks he a big shot or somethin?" The guy pulled out a gun pointing it to his face and firing.

Crocodiles face dissapeared leaving him standing with half of a face.

"Ou, bad move." You laughed hitting the slots for the last time.

In a matter of seconds Crocodiles hand reached for the man his blood boiling before it turned into thin air, his entire body changing to the shape of a pile of sand within seconds.

"Here's your drinks miss." the waitress came setting your drinks you passed the other to your lover. Completely ignoring the slaughter that took place with a calm expression.

Crocodile downed the whole glass in one go leaning for another heavy kiss.

He whispered against your lips, "So im now a husband?" his low tone rumbling in his chest.

"Only if you want to be one,i had to say something didnt i?" you smiled hearing the slots ding in a jackpot.

"Thats my girl." he closed the space between you again.

Ace

You were making a reservation for a restaurant ace laying beside you lazily. "Hi id like to make a reservation for me and my husband."

His heart stopped for a second, he nudged you with a glint in his eyes.

"Yes we'd like a romantic setting please,"

after a few mintues more of the call you ended it thanking the woman in charge.

"You've got a husband now huh?" he asked pressing his legs against yours.

"I sure do, im looking at him right now." You smiled slyly folding a lock of his black hair behind his ears.

His heart was ablaze cheeks crimson, gosh he looked alluring.

He smiled tackling you onto the couch.

You giggled at his childishness it always was a fun sight.

"Yknow i love you." he confessed sweetly for the millionth time.

His body over yours his hair partially blocking his handsome face.

You hummed reaching for him, his body lowered onto yours as he gave you the sweetest of kisses.

"I love you too Ace." he attacked your neck with rampant kisses like a puppy before planting another onto your lips, his body settled down onto yours for a lazy cuddle. You stroked his hair practically hearing him purr against you.

Yamato

He had rescued you a few years back, your limp body on the shore of Onigashima he couldn't help it, he just hoped you'd make it through.

Skipping time to the present he sat ahead of you near the fireplace a large slab of meat cooking.

Ever since he rescued you you two developed a habit of sharing stories and adventures, iconic fights and daily life, you managed to get along prefectly, seeing your intrests align so much you two became a thing in no time. His strong will to be set free along yours to fight for the top place in the grand line made him even more willfull to see the world.

"Yknow im happy to have the strongest husband out in the entire grand line."

"M-Me?" He blushed the red horns shining beautifully against the fireplace.

His strong heart beating a bit faster as be took in your face. You were so confident in your words it made him happy hearing you depend on him like this.

"Mhm, What would i be doing without you." you pondered making him lean in a little before he stood up, your eyes watching his body move to the side of you, he sat beside you wanting a little more comfort, he hadn't gotten such praise in a while.

"Were not really married tho are we?" he questioned knowing youre together.

"Not yet atleast but one day would be nice. Making a name for the strongest out there." You smiled dreaming of the future. your head resting on his shoulder, he took your hand in his full of determination.

"We'd be the best out there." he laughed.

Usopp

You watched your favourite sniper as he coincidentally managed to strike down a whole ship with a single blow, his eyes growing wide mouth ajar as he looked at you.

"Wooo! That's my husband right there!" you laughed drink in hand as you watched his face change from pale surprise to a warm gooey shock.

"Huh? Me? Thats right, The great Sniper king Usopp strikes again! Have i told you how i beat three Warlords? It was a quick fight they stood no chance!" He laughed proclaiming his lies as if they were true.

You hopped on deck to where he was enjoying his glory, giving him a big hug for his accomplishment.

He stiffened up a bit, remining himself to be calm, he always seemed a bit nervous when you approached him, he liked you that much.

"That's right, praise my glory!" You pulled away giving him the stink eye.

He continued to babble until he started calling himself the Best married man out in the open sea and that's when it hit him.

"!?" a glowing bulb of light went off ontop his head, a dark blush covering his cheeks.

"Ha-Huuu-Huuusssband.!?!" he suddenly thought unable to piece the words together as you looked at him nonchalantly.

He puffed his chest out taking a stance. "A-A-As the best husband i have a duty to fuffil to protect my spouse!" He contained his excitment proud of his new nickname as you kept clapping and cheering for him.

Raighley

Lazing by the bar at Shabody Archipellago a few men were riling themselves up celebrating a big feat.

"Thats our capitan for you! Securing a boatload of treasure!" They cheered and hollered as you swirled your drink reading a magazine.

"Oi miss, celebrate with us!" they laughed alcohol pouring down their throats.

You shifted your gaze towards them giving them a pessimistic side eye.

"-?!" They seemed shocked to be ignored seeming a little alert by how little attention you payed to them.

"Our bad fellas, Young lady here is in a bit of a bad mood today." Raighley excused himself butting in not willing to ruin a good evening, his hand on your shoulder as you continued to swipe through the pages.

"That's right guys, i'm a little off today." You smirked having stolen a sachel of gold from one of them.

They resumed their party as Raighley tooo seat beside you.

"70/30?" He asked calmly negotiating to split the gold you swiped.

"60/40." You offered back checking out a set of clothes toying with the ends of the paper.

A sharp sword near Raighleys throat , his glasses gleaming white as you stayed still as did he, the man yelled.

"Which one of you was it?" He stormed poiting the blade so it shined against the lights beside the bar.

The two of you stayed quiet still neither fazed by the antic taking place.

The man neared his sword close to Raighleys neck, cutting off a few strands of his beard.

That was a no-go in your books. "Oi, You plan to pay for touching my husband like that?" you gave him the nastiest of looks pointing the blade away with the tip of your finger. Raighley smirked enjoying your facade.

"This old fart, your husband?" He laughed, showing his nearly tothless mouth. Pointing the blade back at you.

Raighley took a drink his hand winding over the sword before him. "You wanna pay up? Or do i have to beat the shit out of you for it?"

"Look at his old ass, having a woman stand up for him." The room errupted in laugher even Raighley mocked a laugh smile lines crickling as he did so.

"55/45." He resumed talking with you causing you to chuckle.

"Might aswell 50/50 it at this point." Rolling your eyes you extended a hand for him to shake, he caught it twisting it so your knuckles faced him.

He gave them a peck and in a fell swoop the aura in the vacinity changed darkening quickly,men around you dropped like flies.

'' You've got a bad habit of doing that don't you dear." He looked at you through white brows downing the last of his drink confidently.

He played along causing you to huff in amusement.

''It doesn't hurt now does it?'' you leaned back watching over the passed out bodies.

''Let's go, I think we have outstayed our visit." You got up from the stool, tip-toing around sweaty bodies as you proceeded to swipe anything worth the while.

He followed suite with a hearty laugh, offering his hand to you as you stepped out.

Law

Bepo was pestering you today, the cute bear had a lot of questions for you so you sat back explaining so many things to him now wanting to deny his curiosity.

"So then after a relationship, you get married?''

He asked fluffy hands on the table across you.

''That's right, you get married, then if you want to you can have kids, rule the seas pretty much do whatever your heart desires and you have a trustworthy companion to do so with.'' you gleamed egging on this childish play. Law lazing by the ship a cup of hot tea in his hand.

''So then, do you have a husband?'' he asked noticing you had a ring on your finger, granted it wasn't for official titling you just put in on randomly this morning as it was a fancy peace of jewelry you found.

You chuckled hard extending your hand to showcase the ring to Bepo, Law listening in as he sipped his tea in peace, he liked gossip as well.

''I sure do, it's Law.'' you decided to mess with the bear, his jaw hitting the table as his fluffy hands grasped yours.

Law spat out his drink making it fly across his face hands and clothes. You could feel a looming darkness behind you as you continued answering Bepo's questions about your so called 'husband'.

''Y/n-ya, we need to talk.'' Law didn't even give you the time to get up using his devil fruit to teleport you to his office his dirtied clothes diminishing the raging look on his face.

''In your right mind, why would you lie to Bepo about something like this?'' he wiped away the tea inevitably staining his clothes, you held back a chuckle.

''He was acting very cute, you know how hard it is to say no to his questions.''

Law paused hands on the table before him a dirty paper towel in one hand, he had a glooming aura to him. ''DONT SO SAYING THINGS LIKE THIS TO HIM AND TAKE THAT OFF!'' he yelled surrounding you in his room skill to intimidate you.

You shrieked agreeing to his taunt as you put the ring away, he sighed.

''N E V E R, and i mean that seriously, NEVER tell him such childish imaginations, next thing you'll know he'll be trying his best to recreate a wedding. '' he yelled with a big frown on his face.

The moment you stepped out Bepo handed you a bouquet. Egging you to do a walk down the isle.

Law was in utter terror of how he took on two absolute dumbasses, he stormed back out on the ship, the two of you got rewarded with heavy bumps on your heads and laundry chores for weeks.

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xhoneygirlxx · 4 months

Text

this is gonna sound dumb but I just know Eddie would be so lovesick over you that he’d do anything just to make you like him.

let’s say you two are best friends, have been for the past seven years, but Eddie wants more than that. the only issue is the metalhead doesn’t think you’d ever go for someone like him.

that doesn’t stop him from doing any and everything to make you look at him. for example you said one time you like guys who take care of their hands, so he went to the nail salon and got his nails cut and filed topped with a pretty black color because let’s face it, his chipped polish and bitten nails didn’t cut it.

you had mentioned that having a good skin care routine was a green flag so he spent hours on tik tok, not to mention he spend a butt load of money on products, in the hopes you’d notice his newly stocked bathroom.

there were so many things you talked about that he did just in case it could help his chances with you - so far it hasn’t worked. now that the two of you are older, even though you’re only in your mid twenties, your it seems your taste has changed just a smidge.

it was one night of beer and pizza, the two of you talking about any and everything, when a small secret passed your pretty glossed lips.

“Honestly, I’d fuck Hop.”

you said it so nonchalantly, like you didn’t just say you’d fuck the sheriff of Hawkins and the father of El. Eddie sat flabbergasted, truly in disbelief at your admission.

“It’s the get up, ya know? Love me a man in uniform.”

your voice was dreamy, sweet and innocent, the complete opposite of the statement. and despite the want to make fun of your little crush, Eddie took that information and stored it for later.

that’s when two months later you found him in his room, all sweaty in a grey Hawkins PD Academy tee shirt and blue gym shorts, doing push ups. he tried to brush it off like it was no big deal, saying it was because he wanted a new chapter in his life, but in reality Eddie put himself through training just because you said you liked the thought of it.

although it took you many years, maybe too many, to realize this fool was completely and utterly in love with you. you do end up rewarding him anyway by climbing on his lap and riding the absolute shit out of him.

someone write this for me so I can yearn going into the new year

#I will pay someone to write this #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x you #honey’s rambles

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gummygowon · 11 months

Text

sugar | jeong yunho

word count: 2.7k

genre: smut (minor dni!) just another pwp, cowboy!yunho x waitress!afab reader

warnings: dom!yunho x sub!reader, unprotective sex (booo!), creampie, big dick yunho eheheh, slight humping lol, petnames (sugar, honey, sweetheart, doll)

author's note: don't know why this took light years for me to finish BUT SHE'S DONE!!!! and just in time for the cb >:) i will say though that this was written even before the cb was announced so i will take full credit for cowboy!ateez like i literally manifested that shit with this

in your quiet, little hometown not much went on. even the gossip that got around town was drier than the tumbles of weeds that ran through the streets.

recently, however, they were rumors about some lone cowboy who came in late last night. you were sure that the lone cowboy would wound his way into the saloon at one point of his stay here even if he was just passing by. what man could resist a glass of beer?

and you were right, well, you're pretty sure you're right. in the middle of your shift, some tall man stalked into the bar and quietly sat down in the back of the saloon. his eyes and the top half of his face were covered by the large black cowboy hat that he wore leading everyone curious as to what he looked like.

"do ya think that's him?" you ask your coworker miyeon as the two of you wipe down glasses and cups behind the bar.

"the mysterious cowboy who wandered into town last night?" she asks leading you to nodding, "well, let's look his tall man sitting in the back of a saloon and everyone is looking at him like he has horns growing out of his head so i assume so."

rolling your eyes at miyeon's sassy response, you find yourself taking a peek to look at the new visitor. from where you're standing and with the man's big cowboy hat blocking eighty percent of his face, your curiosity grew to as what he looked like. did he have a scar on his face? a beard? or maybe a mustache?

"if you're gonna keep looking at him, you may as well take his order." miyeon comments on your long gaze on the outsider.

"absolutely not!" you retort back but miyeon is already pushing you out the bar with your tray, "remember to smile! it gets ya more tips!"

you contemplate flipping off your coworker but decide against it and give her a nasty glare as you walked off to the back of the saloon.

as you approach closer to the man, you see him shift in his seat but he doesn't look up at you until you clear your throat.

the man finally looks up at you and you feel your breath gets caught in your throat. the man had no facial hair or any nasty scars on his face. to your surprise, he was well-shaven and his eyes were full of life along with his plump lips that sat prettily on his face.

too entranced by his aura, the man had to tilt his head and raise an eyebrow at you for you to start functioning again. "my apologies sir, "what can i get ya started with?" you ask, trying your best to calm your heart down before the stranger in front of you could hear it beating out of your chest.

he lets out a soft chuckle at your flustered state, "what do you recommend sweetheart?"

your heart stopped for a solid second at the pet name. "well, if you want something a little stronger i recommend our house's whiskey. but if you don't want something as harsh, our draft beer is great too sir."

the smile from his laugh stays on his face, "you can call me yunho, sweetheart. callin' me sir got me sounding old."

your face turned redder than the apple tree behind the saloon. "my apologies, yunho" you say, your eyes glued onto the floor.

another laugh erupts from yunho's mouth as he watches you flush with embarrassment. "what's got you so wound up so tight sugar? relax a bit for me sweetheart, you can do that, can't ya?"

the grip on your serving tray loosens as you let your shoulders drop.

"good girl." the cowboy praises as he leans back his chair, the big buckle on his black belt reflecting as it shines from the candlelight. "now, a glass of whiskey will do just fine for me sugar."

"i'll be right back with that, yunho." you curtsy at him before rushing to the bar.

miyeon!" you whisper-shout at your coworker, who somehow had disappeared behind the counter.

"so what does mister outsider look like?" miyeon asks, popping up from the bar like a jack-in-a-box. "i bet he got a nasty scar on his face!"

"he doesn't have a scar i can tell you that. but that man is fine as hell."

"no shot, he really is?" she asks, attempting to peek over you to get a look at the stranger.

"yes, he is and he keeps calling me sweetheart," you whisper at your coworker.

"he keeps calling you what?!" miyeon shouts into the saloon causing a few eyes to look over at the two of you.

"miyeon!" you whisper-shout once more. "anyways, he wants a glass of whiskey so would you be a dear and get me some."

"i think you should be the one filling up his glass, if he called you sweetheart."

"oh for christ's sake, miyeon. just give me the damn whiskey."

"who spit in your tea this mornin'" miyeon grumbles as she puts the glass down in front of you.

you roll your eyes at her response, before whisking away to the back of the saloon once more.

"where's ya whiskey," you place the glass down on the table before giving him a curtsy.

"thank you sugar."

in the distance, you hear another customer calling you over. reluctantly, you turn your attention towards the voice leaving yunho behind.

"sweetheart," yunho calls out to you, attention fully back on him again. you tilt your head waiting for him to finish his sentence, " you gonna be busy tonight?"

it took everything in you to not give yourself to him right away but godamn it was tempting. "i got some things to do tonight, but come tomorrow. i might not be busy."

you watch as the man slowly nods before downing the rest of his glass. "alright then sugar, i'll see you tomorrow."

yunho doesn't know how long he's been sitting in this damn saloon but he's been there too long and he can't keep slowly sipping this whiskey for another hour.

the cowboy arrived roughly around the same hour as he did last night assuming the flustered waitress he met would have the same hours again but as of right now he was wrong. yunho recognized her coworker and was tempted to ask about your whereabouts but decided against it. he didn't want come off as a creep or desperate.

usually, yunho didn't mess around with any of the girls in the small towns he visited. he was strictly a business-only type of man but something about you was just so enticing. a one-night stand wouldn't hurt right?

"wanna refill on that sir?" a pretty voice asks him luring out of his thoughts.

"i'm alright, i'm just," yunho looks up midsentence to see you standing above him. "waiting on someone..." he trials off, his eyes shamelessly wandering to places they shouldn't.

"really?"

"actually, they're here now." he answers absentmindedly, eyes still drifting towards your chest.

a blush makes its way to your cheeks as you hug the tray closer to your body, "well, let me know what they want, i'll be right back."

yunho only ordered one more glass from you as he waited for you to get off. he had planned to invite you back to his hotel room sometime during your shift but even with the alcohol running through his veins, he couldn't bring himself to talk to you.

once the night had began to wind down and most of the patrons had cleared from the saloon, yunho wandered to the bar to pay for his tab. he watched you gossip with your coworker, your backs to him as words carelessly left your mouth. he didn't know what the topic of the conversation was but yunho did catch some pretty interesting things.

"y'know what they say," your coworker leans into you with a knowing smirk. "save a horse, ride a cowboy!"

"miyeon!" you shout at her, giving her a slap on the shoulder. "we still have customers here!" you look over your shoulder to exaggerate your point only to see the cowboy she was referencing.

"hi sir! what can i help you with?" you ask, elbowing miyeon to get back to work.

a small laugh came up yunho's throat as he walked up closer to the counter with his hands on his belt, "just wanna close up my tab that's all."

"right, we'll get that for you. what'd ya order again?"

"just three glasses of whiskey."

"that'll be one hundred won."

"alrighty then." yunho reaches into his pocket to fish out the money. before placing on them on the table, he leans over the counter beckoning you to come closer which you do, "i can teach ya how to ride a real cowboy."

you froze, thighs rubbing at the suggested thought. "o-okay."

the corner of yunho's lips quip into a cocky smile as he watched you turn red. "i'll wait for ya then sugar. don't keep me waiting too long."

you have never cleaned up and closed so fast in your life. the tables were wiped and the floors were mopped. even miyeon had sped up with her own chores after you agreed to tell her what the mysterious cowboy told you.

before leaving the saloon, you take a moment to fix yourself up in the mirror. once deeming yourself presentable you take a deep breath before walking out.

the crisp, night air embraced you forcing you to wrap your arms around yourself as you look for the tall cowboy. "yunho?"

as on cue, the man emerged from the shadows with a cigarette between his lips. "you finished a lot sooner than i expected."

"there wasn't much to do."

"ahhh," yunho hums as he stomps on the cigarette to put it out, "ready doll?" he sticks out his arm for you to hold.

humming in response, you wrap your arm around his much larger one. the warmth radiating him his body instantly warming you up as you walked in the cold.

yunho made some effort to get to know you to refrain from taking you right now. it was hard to avoid thinking about he was going to fuck you tonight.

when the two of you arrived at yunho's room after passing by the innkeeper who merely raised an eyebrow at you, there was a thick tension in the air as you (im)patiently watched yunho unlock the door.

once unlocked, yunho stepped aside to let you in. the tension grew even thicker when he came inside. it was like a waiting game to see who would make the first move.

with hungry eyes, yunho stalked towards you, his figure looming over you as you eventually backed into the door. "i won't bite, sugar."

as soon as those words left his mouth, you closed the gap between you two attacking his lips mercilessly. yunho fought back with equal fervor, his tongue clashing with yours as he kept a finger under your chin to keep it titled.

pulling back for a breath with your chest heaving, yunho pulled away to your dismay but stayed close enough to whsiper, lead you to the bed inviting you to sit on his lap. eagerly, you throw your legs around him without a thought. your lips return to his in an instant, this time even messier as your teeth clashed with his. yunho pulled you higher up on his lap so that your clothed core came into contact with his raging hard-on. you gasped at the contact, allowing him to slip his tongue into your mouth.

yunho pulled away to catch his breath making you whine at the loss of his lips. he immediately shut you up by leaving soft kisses all over your neck and dangerously venturing toward your chest. soft gasps quickly turned to moans once those sweet kisses turned to love bites. one of your hands finds its way to yunho's hair, pulling every time he added another hickey. subconsciously, your hips began to rock against his.

a tut comes out of yunho's mouth as he stops his attacks on your neck, "patience sugar."

a pout forms on your lips as you beg with your eyes for the cowboy to do something about the ache in your lower half. "please,"

"you gotta use your words, doll." yunho teases as he matches your pout.

warmth begins to spread throughout your face, "please, let me ride you."

"there's my good girl," he praises a smile replacing the pout on your face.

his hands went to work at his belt, swiftly removing the chunky leather along with his pants as well while you unzipped your dress and drawls underneath. once you were fully unclothed, you shyly looked at yunho for guidance who was already waiting on the bed, a hand lazily pumping at his cock.

"come 'ere sugar," he motions at you with his free hand.

obediently, you climbed onto the bed, both legs swinging over each side as your hands shyly press against his lower stomach. yunho watches you intently as you glide your slick cunt over his aching cock before finally sinking down on him. once you've fully taken him in, your big doe eyes look down at yunho for help.

"you can move sweeheart." he encourages you. god you were going to be the death of him. how could such a pretty thing like you be so clueless? it made yunho want to ruin you more.

you nodded your head as the pain in your lower half turned into sweet pleasure. giving an experimental roll of your hips, you watch as yunho's bites down on his lip harder and mumbles a quiet "fuck".

"just like that sugar," yunho praises, his hands snaking around your waist to help him ground himself.

with yunho's praise, you fell into a steady rhythm of rocking your hips back and worth. whimpers left your mouth as you felt the knot in your stomach begin to tighten.

yunho could feel your pussy clench around his dick as you neared your high. he was close well but he needed more to be able to come. the cowboy was patient enough to let you figure out a rhythm but now he needed to cum. the hands on your waist still you for a moment as he guides your hips in a up and down motion. this new pace had you seeing stars as the repeated motion of yunho's big dick breached your walls every second.

"fuck yunho," you moan, "feels so good."

yunho smirks at your fucked out state, "does it baby?"

you hum in response, not even being able to form a single word. god, he was fucking you so good.

the cowboy started to bounce you harder on his dick as he bucked his own hips to meet yours. your moans spurred him on as he chased his high. lord, you were addicting. he could listen to your pretty sounds all day long.

"yunho, i'm-fuck, so cclose!" you whimper out with your eyes shut.

"wait for me sugar," yunho grunts slamming his hips even harder as his hands gripped your waist so tightly that there was sure to be a mark tommorow.

a whimper leaves your lips, warning yunho that you may not be able to hold off your orgasm. "you can be a good girl, can't you?" he groans in between thrusts.

"yes-fuck," you cry out, nails scratching at his toned chest.

"i'm close sugar, aalmost," yunho groans, his fingers pressing even harder onto your hips as he continued to slam his hips into yours.

"fuck!" you groan as you feel the knot in your stomach unravel as yunho finishes. his hips stutters as he empties his load into your cunt.

yunho watches as the cums leaks out from you and onto his lower stomach and he couldn't help but buck his hips one more time. a whine leaves your lips as your pussy aches from the overstimulation. "sorry sugar, you're just too tempting."

you collapse onto yunho's chest, arms tired from holding yourself up for so long. his body felt warm as yunho's arms wrap around you, encasing him in his embrace.

"good job sugar," yunho praises once more, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of your head. "i think ya just need one more lesson from me doll. what'd ya think?"

#ateez oneshot #ateez oneshots #ateez imagine #ateez imagines #ateez smut #ateez smut oneshot #ateez x reader #jeong yunho smut #yunho smut #jeong yunho x reader #jeong yunho oneshots #yunho oneshot #yunho imagines #yunho smut oneshots #yunho scenario

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bimbobaggins69 · 5 months

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𝐦𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐝…

𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐞𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐱 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐟𝐞𝐦 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

★ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you leave your best friend and Hawkins behind your junior year to move to the city of angels with your parents, what your best friend Eddie never expected was to see you on the cover of the newest playboy issue five years later, and holy shit was he anything but disappointed.

★ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: smut ahead, 18+ mdni, no mentions of race, hair color/texture, or body size, readers nickname is angel, smoking weed, female nudity, male masturbation, angst, mentions of divorce, lots of fluff, 69, unprotected p in v, squirting, creampie.

★ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: as always thank you to my baby loves @xxhellfirebunnyxx and @take-everything-you-can for reading and hyping me up with this fic, love you babes dearly. Also, thank you @bettyfrommars for unintentionally giving me the name and nickname for this <333

★ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4k

It was a chilly autumn day in Hawkins, Indiana and all Eddie wanted was a carton of cigarettes and a bag of pretzels before making his way to the last place a twenty year old like him should be– high school.

“Welcome-... oh.” The older man behind the counter stopped himself from his usual cheerful greeting before groaning as he eyed the metalhead down.

One time…Eddie stole a box of condoms, one time two years ago and Stu the manager of the stop and go is hellbent on never letting him forget it.

Eddie rolls his eyes at the bald headed, beer bellied man as he makes his way down one of the small aisles, grabbing his usual bag of Rold Gold pretzels. His eyes scan the shelf for anything else he might feel like snacking on come lunchtime, before a loud horn echoes from outside making him whip his head around, brown waves falling down his back from where it was laid over his shoulders. He witnessed the tail end of a car who must've cut off another in the intersection, before his eyes dropped to something else. The words playboy catches in his line of sight, making him turn around fully, two heavy black boots carrying him over to the magazine rack that sits just underneath the big store window.

Two very familiar eyes stare back at him, causing him to harshly swallow, his heart beat kicks up in nervous excitement, holy shit!

It’s you.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

5 years ago

“Eds, can you please quit hoggin’ the joint?” You whine from your upside down position on his bed, head hanging over the side as he’s sprawled out on the floor, flipping through a magazine while taking quick puffs of said spliff. “It’s called puff puff pass, you greedy boy.” You pout, not realizing the affect such words would have on your best friend.

“Uh, yeah shit sorry.” He stammers as his eyes find yours, shaky ringed fingers raising up towards you as the zigzag rolled joint slightly quivers in his grasp. Greedy boy will stay on a loop in his mind later on tonight when he’s alone.

Eddie wouldn’t argue with anyone who said he was fucking dumb, because the dumbest thing he could ever do is fall for his best friend. That’s like the number one rule in a friendship and he just had to go and fuck it up, like he does everything else. But you’re you. How can he not fall for those innocent doe eyes? That beautiful smile that could light up even his darkest days– and that giggle, that giggle that sets his insides on fire, makes him wanna trip over nothing just to hear it, makes him wanna memorize even the corniest jokes just to go back and tell you later, while his chest is puffed out and proud he’d been able to make you cover your mouth with your pretty hand while a girly giggle bursts from between your lips. Yeah he’d done that.

But you’re you, the girl everyone wants. The girl he’s incessantly hounded about whenever he does a deal with one of those meathead Jocks.

“So… is Angel ya know, seeing anyone?” Steve Harrington aka king Steve asks as he passes a crisp twenty dollar bill over to Eddie before smoothing out his letterman jacket. Of course, it never fails.

“Uh, n-no I don’t think so.” Eddie says, shoulders deflating as he throws the bill into his black lunch tin.

“Good, good. You think you can put in a good word for me?” The honey eyed boy asks as he flashes Eddie a charming smile, the smile that made all the girls swoon over his very existence.

Well yeah Eddie could admit he was cute or whatever, I mean he has eyes. But he loves you and there’s just no way he’d ever “put in a good word” for anyone that wasn't himself.

“I don’t think you need my help getting into anyone's pants, king Steve.” Eddie bites, before kicking his legs over the rickety bench and trudging his way out of the woods, to the school's parking lot. He quickly notices you hunched over, leaning up against his rust bucket of a van, arms crossed as your head studies your dainty feet in your pristine white keds.

“What's goin’ on sweetheart?” Eddie prods as he now stands toe to toe with you, the stark contrast of his dirty Reeboks against your clean and proper shoes, causes a sad giggle to erupt from your chest. You slowly pick your head up and Eddie noticeably winces when he realizes your eyes are full of unshed tears that are so close to boiling over, ready to drip down your lash line and onto your perfect cheeks. “Hey, what's wrong princess?” The metalhead asks before bringing his thumb up to wipe the tears that have finally bubbled over.

“I’m moving… tomorrow.” The tears are now boundless, no end in sight as they fall freely.

Eddie feels light headed at your words, moving? Moving where?! He says as much in a strained but somber timber.

“California, can you believe that?” You scoff, moving to California in your Junior year of high school no less, sounds like an utter nightmare.

“California!?” Eddie all but shouts, “what the fuck? Why so far away?” He’s trying his best to keep it all together, he wants to grab you and kiss your pouty lips, tell you everythings gonna be okay and no one can take you away from him, but he doesn't, he tries to stay neutral and positive for you.

“Well hey, we can still keep in touch, right?” He chuckles, but the smile is nowhere near to reaching his eyes, it holds nothing but sadness and unspoken truths.

“Oh, Eddie.” You wistfully whisper before throwing yourself into your best friends embrace, two leather clad arms wrap around your body as he rubs little circles into the skin above your elbow, his head buried into the top of your hair– he takes in your scent as his last ditch effort to be this close to you, until it's eventually ripped from him. You smell like strawberries and cream and he’ll never be able to smell it again and not think of you, it'll be ingrained in his subconscious forever… filed away in that part of his brain that holds a box of the many things he loves about you.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

Eddie couldn't believe his eyes as they scan the inside of the issue, you sprawled out in next to nothing on a questionable looking mattress as you spread your legs for the camera, fucking the reader with those doe eyes that had him lost for you, years ago. Of course he had to buy it, even as Stu rang him up with a knowing smirk on his face, that smug bastard.

So here he sits in that same van you were leant up against just five years prior, where you broke some of the worst news he’d ever gotten, thumbing through all the pages your beautiful body graced. God, you were even better than the you he conjured up in his imagination.

He couldn't help it when his cock began to stir against the rough fabric of his jeans, apart of him felt guilty but he knew he had to find some kind of release before he stepped foot into hawkins high. He refused to be the guy who popped a boner in class, he was already a freak he didn't need perverted creep added to that title– so before thinking too much about it, he made his way to the back of his van, plopping down on the small mattress that was placed back there for action that didn't involve just him and his hand.

He began unbuttoning his jeans, it was laundry day so he had no other obstacle to remove– his cock instantly bobbing out in front of him, hard and already leaking at the tip. He quickly turned to the page of you sprawled out on a similar looking mattress to the one he was seated on, before spitting into the palm of his hand and bringing it down to his throbbing sex. The glide was easy with the amount of saliva he’d used, building a rhythm as his eyes wandered over your beautiful curves. He couldn't help but to think about what you’d been up to these last few years, who you are now, if you still think about him at all… yeah fucking right.

God, he would have treated you so good if he had the chance, fucked that pretty little pussy until you were screaming for him to not stop, keep going, right there.

With his unused hand he brought the bottom hem of his shirt up and under his chin so he wouldn't make a mess on the only clean shirt he had in a three mile radius, but also so he could get a better visual, now picturing your mouth around his cock instead of his heavily ringed hand. The way your pretty plump lips would wrap around him, taking him all the way back into your throat as spit falls from the sides, your eyes watering as they look up at him. What did him in was the memory of that last moment he had with you when his nose was buried in your hair, strawberries and cream had his toes curling in his boots as his creamy cum dripped over his knuckles and down his silver rings, some even splashing onto his happy trail as low moans of your name left his lips.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

One week later

The last place you ever thought you’d find yourself, was back in Hawkins. But your aunt called your mother in a panic, she was going through a messy divorce and she needed to make this thanksgiving special for your two younger cousins who were more than likely going to feel the brunt of the new change.

So of course, you and your mom packed up and flew to Hawkins to spend thanksgiving in the little town you’ve tried so hard to leave behind.

Two days here and you already remember why you missed it so much, although you love the big city and all it has to offer you’re really just a small town girl at heart, always have been.

“Hey, there you are sweetie. Can you do me the biggest favor and run to Melvald’s? Your aunt is about to have a nervous breakdown over her cherry pie, it’s just not baking right…do you think you can grab a few?” Your mom asks as she leans against the doorway of the guest bedroom you’re staying in.

“Yeah sure, but it’s the day before thanksgiving, you think they’ll still have some?” You ask as you stand up from your lying position on the bed.

“Well it wouldn’t hurt to check?”

“Of course not.” You agree with a peppy smile as you assess yourself over in the mirror attached to the big dresser.

“Do you want to take her car?” She asks with a grateful smile.

“No, I could use the walk.”

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

You stroll down the bakery at melvalds, placing three pies in your little hand held grocery basket; cherry, pumpkin and pecan before turning around and making your way down a random aisle, but what you see or rather who made you stop quick in your tracks.

Eddie.

You haven’t seen him in five years and it shows, his hair is longer, shoulders broader but still wrapped up in leather. You stand there unable to move, unable to take your eyes off of your old best friend, the guy you had it bad for since sixth grade.

His head snaps towards you at the sudden realization he’s being watched, you see the futures on his face go from utterly confused to shocked in a matter of seconds. Brown eyes widening into large pools of chocolate.

“A-Angel?”

Angel, you hadn’t heard that nickname since your junior year. It was something you were predominantly called in Hawkins and were grateful it didn’t follow you out to California. But standing here now, listening to it fall from his perfect lips, you realize just how much you’ve missed hearing it.

“Eddie.” You clutch at the small basket in your hand, as you shoot him a bashful smile. You didn’t know what to say. “Hey, how ya been? Sorry I never returned your phone call and totally let our friendship disintegrate into thin air.” It’s not that you didn’t want to talk to him, but the pain you had gone through leaving him behind was too much to bear and in your young mind you thought it would be easier to quit him cold turkey, so to speak. Was it a shitty, selfish plan? Absolutely. But you knew the inevitable would happen and he’d get a girlfriend he was over the moon for and would brag to you about how much he knows ‘she’s the one’ and you just couldn’t take that blow to your heart. So you never called back. Put all your time and energy into school and new friends, dating here and there but never being able to fall for anyone the way you did for him.

“H-how have you been?” Eddie stumbles, trying to break the awkward tension. He can’t seem to look you in your eyes and you can’t help but to mistake his nervousness for anger, you wouldn’t hold it against him if he held some sort of resentment for you and your fleeting friendship.

“I’ve been okay, back in town for a couple weeks so that’s nice…” you try your best not to grimace at your words, this whole interaction feels so…different. You hate how you had once been able to talk to him about anything, to now have no clue how to speak to him.

You want the ground to swallow you whole.

“Yeah, um you look great by the way.” His eyes finally meet yours again, they hold contact for at least a few seconds before they shift down to your exposed midriff and the tops of your thighs that peek out from beneath your brown plaid mini skirt.

“Hey, I’m um well me and Wayne are having a pre thanksgiving dinner tonight, since he’s working a double tomorrow for ya know the holiday pay. Anyway, do you wanna maybe come by? He always asks about you.” His cheeks turn rosy from his rambling and the unnecessary information he’s now kicking himself for adding in there.

“Oh, um yeah. Yeah I’d love to!” The smile you beam up at him could bring him to his knees in an instant. The smile he beams down at you has your heart fluttering anew.

“Do you mind taking me to my Aunt Cindy’s to drop these pies off, and then we can head back to your place?” The basket sways in your hands as you hold it up in question.

“Yeah, she still lives in Loch Nora, right? 1310?” His remembrance of little details from years ago goes straight to your heart and maybe a tad between your legs.

You swiftly nod your head as Eddie puts the remaining ingredients for what looks to be Wayne’s famous Mac and cheese into the buggy, before you both walk side by side to the register.

The checkout process is silent as the cashier rings you both up separately, aside from the happy greetings and small talk from the nice lady, but you don’t miss the little glances Eddie shoots at you from the corner of his eyes, as if the next time he looks you’ll be gone. You can’t help but to think maybe he’s not so mad at you after all, I mean he wouldn’t invite you back to his place if he was, right?

The car ride to your Aunts house was filled with more silence mixed with the metal music Eddie had playing in the background while his fingers drummed incessantly on the steering wheel. It seemed to be more out of nervousness, as the side glances continued and if you weren’t mistaken you’d say he was looking at your thighs rather hungrily. You could feel that pull in your lower belly, that fire you used to get while hanging out with him as if you had to squeeze your legs together to get any sort of relief. Fuck, why are you torturing yourself like this?

After dropping the pies off and your mom quickly catching up with Eddie, you hop back into his van and head to forest hills.

★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★ ★

“Well look who it is. How are ya kid? Haven’t seen you in…what’s it been? Four or five years now?” The older man asks before bringing you in for a hug. Wayne was like the father you never had when you lived in Hawkins, as your actual father was always at work or bringing his work home with him. You couldn't help it when your eyes welled with tears at all of the memories you had in this trailer and with these two men who still seem to mean the world to you.

Dinner went smoother than you could’ve expected, the food was good and the conversation was even better. You all seemed to fall back into your usual banter, especially you and Eddie, it was almost as if no time had passed, like you never even left.

Finally after all the food and beer had been eaten and sipped, Wayne gets up from the table before slipping on his work boots that sit by the front door.

“Well, I gotta head out. You kids be good ya hear? It was nice seeing you sweetheart.” Wayne says before wrapping you up in another bear hug, and then he was off leaving you and Eddie back in that awkward silence, but not for long—

“D-do you still smoke?” Eddie asks as he nervously plays with his hair, wrapping it around his ringed finger then letting it fall back into place.

“Duh, you think just cause I moved to L.A. I stopped smoking? They’re even worse out there.” You say as you nervously shift on your feet.

“Well I just thought since you no longer had the best dealer in town, you’d quit or something.” Eddie instantly regrets his words and his weird attempt at flirting, but when you giggle and playfully roll your eyes at him that feeling dissipates from his mind completely.

“Lead the way, handsome.” You purr, causing Eddie’s breath to hitch. You had never called him cute or handsome before and now he thinks if he plays his cards right he may actually have a chance with you, whatever you were willing to give him he’d take with a smile on his face.

You follow closely behind him before he opens his door for you, standing with his back up against it motioning for you to go first, still the perfect gentleman.

The only light in the room was coming from the kitchen and the soft moonlight peeking in through his makeshift curtains, so you saunter over to his night stand and turn on his lamp, the yellow light causes you to squint your eyes as they adjust to the brightness. You begin taking in any new details not noticing much, before your eyes fall to his bed.

You and Eddie both stop in your tracks and now he’s the one who wants the ground to swallow him whole. How could he forget that there? How could he be so stupid? He wouldn’t blame you if you cursed him out, called him a freak and a creep and left. But when his hazy eyes find yours, he can see a smile forming on your lips but he can’t tell if it’s from flattery or if you're going to laugh and tease him.

“I um, I meant to put that up.” He admits as his face grows beet red, he rubs at the back of his neck as he tries to gauge any kind of reaction from you.

“Did you like it?” If Eddie hadn’t been watching your every move he might’ve missed the soft whisper of your voice. That question however caught him completely off guard, he could feel his cock begin to stir as you walked over to him, now almost chest to chest.

“Uh, what?” He urged as he shook his head from side to side, brown waves swaying back and forth with every move as if he hadn't heard you right.

“I said… did you like what you saw?” Your eyes are big and innocent, a pout forms on your lips as your hand reaches up to touch his chest. Eddie feels like he can’t breath, you're touching him and he can’t fucking breath because he’s thought of this moment for years, and its happening.

“I did, I r-really did.” He confirms as he licks his plump pink lips, before giving you a nervous smile as if he still couldn't believe this was happening.

“Did you touch yourself to my pictures Eddie?” You whisper as your hand moves lower down his abdomen, making your way to the top of his jeans.

“Mhm, yeah I did.” He admits, causing you to send him a salacious smile, fingers beginning to fidget with his handcuff buckle.

“Well I’ve touched myself thinking about you plenty of times, so I guess it’s only fair.” You shrug, slipping your digits under his shirt and rubbing them through the tuft of hair that sits just above denim.

“You-you have?” Okay, you have to be fucking with him now, there’s no way you have played with yourself thinking about him.

“I have for a very long time.” You admit, vague but the look on your face tells him you’re serious. You have thought about him like that and his dick couldn’t stiffen any harder in his jeans, if it tried.

“Fuck princess, so have I…want you so bad.” His hands move to your hips, first a gentle graze before his grip tightens possessively.

“Then take me, Eddie.” You whisper into the plump skin of his pink lips before they’re on you, soft and pliant. It starts off sweet and full of love before it becomes hot and needy, tongues interlocking with passion as you take in the taste of cigarettes and the sweetness of the marshmallows and brown sugar from the candied yams Eddie had shoveled into his mouth earlier, not typically your favorite but on Eddie it was.

You break the kiss causing him to whimper before quickly discarding your brown knit sweater over your head, throwing it onto some unknown surface in his messy bedroom. His eyes widen as he takes in your bare breasts as if he hadn’t been jerking off to pictures of them all week, but seeing them up close and in person was a different experience entirely.

You bring your lips back to his, heavy breathes and moans fall between your mouths as Eddie turns your body slightly, knees buckling on the edge of his bed before you both fall back onto his lumpy mattress. A sharp gasp and that giggle falls from your lips and Eddie can’t help but to take in every crease and dimple on your face, smiling down at you as if he lived and breathed to make you smile, as if seeing you happy in turn made him happier. You know now, there is no denying that this love that is surging between your bodies has been there all along, you were both just too stubborn and self deprecating to see it.

“God, you’re beautiful.” Eddie whispers into your cheek before his lips begin a trail down your jaw line and onto your neck, soft kisses that make you squirm and shift as if he’s teasing you, aching to see you break, to hear you beg him for more, more, more.

But what flies out of your mouth instead, has him detaching from your skin to look back into your eyes and then down at your lips, as if he needs to see how you look as you mouth those words to him. “I love you, Eddie.”

It drips from your tongue so earnest and sincere that it has him breaking all resolve, he swallows harshly, your eyes fall to where his Adam’s apple bobs causing your stomach to sink. You make a move to push him off and sit up before stuttering over your words, trying to assert some kind of damage control to save yourself from humiliation but Eddie doesn’t budge, you dare look back into his eyes scared to see what you’d find but when you do, you see nothing but pure adoration and love, it causes you to furrow your brows in confusion as you and Eddie stare into eachothers eyes, souls bare and ready for what follows.

“I love you angel, I always have.” Falls so sweetly from his lips and you can’t help but to hold onto every single word tightly as if they’d float away from your mindseye, forever.

It's what you’d always wanted to hear, he loves you, he’s always loved you.

You don’t put much more thought into it before you’re yanking off his mercyful fate band shirt, throwing it off to land in the sea of clothes that would eventually become his floor.

You eye his tattoos, new and old before slowly tracing them with your index finger. Eddie watches you with a deep set smile, the one that perfectly displays his dimples. He slightly jerks when you move on from the demon on his left pec and down to his nipple, lightly circling it, before bringing the pad of your digit to the silver barbell nestled there, ever so gently swirling as you pull a whimper from his lips.

“Is it sensitive?” You ask with the ghost of a smirk on your face, already knowing the answer.

“Mhm, very. Feels really good.” He chokes out between huffs.

“Can I lick it?” The look on your face is pure desperation, how could he deny you something you're clearly begging for with your eyes.

“You want to?” His face is full of surprise as if it’s the first time anyone has ever paid any attention to his nipples and you just can’t help but to think what a shame that is.

“Wanna do everything with you.” You whisper before bringing your face closer to his chest, eyes on his as your dark lashes flutter up at him, lips pressed together before you give his nipple a quick blow of cool air, his eyes shut as he hums in delight.

“Need an answer before I put my tongue on you, pretty boy.” Words dripping with mock confidence as your insides flutter with nerves.

“Yes baby, you can lick me wherever you want.” He rushes out, so needy for whatever you’re willing to give him.

Without another thought you flick your tongue across the pink bud and silver jewelry before wrapping your lips around it, giving one good suck before you move on to his other nipple, both decorated and equally making you drip between your thighs.

“Oh fuck, that feels…so good.” Eddie hums as his eyes shut tight, enjoying the sensation you’re bringing him, he jerks his hips in anticipation and the rough denim catches on your clit, a moan bubbles up and out of your throat as he continues his movements, his hungry eyes moving down towards where your lower half meets his, your white cotton panties on full display for him as they perfectly outline your lower lips, wet patch glistening in the low light of his room. He half expected you to wear some little lace number but something about the white cotton brings him back to the nights he’d stay over at your house when your parents were out of town. He’d catch a glimpse of them in your hamper and it took every ounce of him not to look, not to touch, not to smell but goddamn did he want to.

“Already so wet for me.” The words sink into your skin as he places kisses around your neck, desperately trying to stave off marking you as his, at least not until you’re asking, begging.

“Just need you inside me Ed’s.” You whine as you now begin to rock your hips into his, bodies moving and rutting into each other in tandem as moans fill the stale air of his bedroom.

“No baby, not yet…no need to rush, we have all night.” His voice is deep and husky as he throws you a wink before swiftly peeling your panties down your lower body, leaving them to dangle off of your right foot as if he was just too desperate to fully remove them, you clench around nothing at the thought and Eddie doesn’t miss it as he looks down onto your pussy with complete wonder in his eyes.

“She’s so fucking pretty.” He whispers, making your face heat up from the praise of your sex, you wanted to squirm and snap your legs shut at the attention. Sure, you’ve done these types of poses for pictures as photographers, lighting directors and wardrobe designers looked on. But, something about being underneath Eddie and him looking at you, like really looking at you, made you feel so unbelievably vulnerable, like his opinion is the only one in the world that matters to you.

“Want you to sit on my face baby,” his voice is needy, practically begging with his puppy dog eyes “want this pretty pussy to suffocate me.” He grits, the way he almost growls his request has a shiver running down your spine. You nod rapidly, allowing him to lay down before you’re swinging your leg over his head to nestle yourself right over his awaiting mouth. The first lick through your folds has you whimpering, hands falling to his chest just to have something to hold onto. The feeling of his warm, soft lips on your pussy is addicting but his tongue that dips out to flick over your clit and into your fluttering hole is down right diabolical, you can’t help but to move your hips side to side, giving him just what he wants as you bury his face deeper into your cunt.

He’s enjoying every minute of it with the groans and expletives that muffle from his mouth, as well as the front row seat you have to the tent in his black denim jeans.

Your curiosity was getting the better of you as you continued to eye his bulge; you needed to see him, taste him, touch him, so you lay flat against the metalheads chest, bringing your hands up to tussle with the handcuff buckle Eddie was still sporting all these years later.

He gasps from underneath you, his hands moving from your hips down to the globes of your ass, taking handfuls as you unbutton and unzip his jeans— you hear a faint “oh fuck” when you begin pulling both denim and plaid polyester down to gather at his knees. His cock springs up, hitting his stomach in an almost comical way that makes you wanna giggle, his tip is cherry red, blue veins run along the sides and clear beads of precum bubble out of the slit. He’s big and pretty, so pretty.

You take him into your hand, touching it as if it were some kind of delicacy, you want to memorize every vain, every ridge and dip as your hands enclose around it. You squeeze around the base creating more beads making the others drip over and down the mushroom tip.

You can’t take it anymore as your mouth waters with hunger, you take him between your lips licking and sucking at the flushed skin before moving further down and burying him deep in your throat.

“Mmff.” The vibrations from his groans make you shudder as you continue to bob your head, creating a steady pace as you cup his balls and use your unoccupied hand to twist on his shaft.

Eddie gives a quick slap to your ass cheek before he’s tapping your leg which you take as your signal to get off, and you do.

“Fuck angel, I need you to stop before I come down your throat.” He says as if it’s a bad idea, like you wouldn’t love to swallow every drop he gives you.

He can tell by the look in your eyes that that’s exactly what you want, but he only has one place for his come in mind—

“I need to fuck you full baby, I’ll let you swallow another time.” He says in absolute glee as if he's silently preparing to give you what you want in the hopefully near future.

Eddie quickly grabs the backs of your thighs, catching you off guard and making you yelp as you fall onto your back on the mattress, but once you’re laid flat he doesn’t let go, pulling you down so that your butt is almost hanging off the edge. His eyes are blown wide with lust as he grabs his cock and gives it a couple strokes before tapping the head on your clit, he throws you a devilish smirk when you moan from the action.

“You ready princess?” The flushed look on your face and lustful gaze would’ve been enough of an answer, but Eddie had to wait for any kind of verbal confirmation before proceeding, “mhm, very.” You finally speak up, voice demure but the look in your eyes still shined with glazed over desire.

“Hold onto me baby, want you close.” Eddie whispered as his tip began to sheathe itself inside of your drenched hole.

Your hands instantly went to the nape of Eddie’s neck, before you began dragging them down, placing gentle caresses down his back. The soft touches and feeling of your tightness wrapped around his cock had his eyes rolling back and mouth agape in pleasure.

He felt like a virgin with you, nervous like he was going to blow his load entirely too fast but also scared to make one wrong move, he didn’t want to fuck anything up. He never had to worry about this kind of stuff; as far as Eddie was concerned, chicks came and went and he never had to make any kind of impressions to make them stay, you were different and that fucking terrified him.

But once you rub your nose on his like a cute little kitten and bat your lashes up at him as if to tell him he could push in further, all those debilitating thoughts leave his mind, giving over to you; your scent that fucking strawberries and cream, your taste of slight cigarettes that he knew was from him; that thought drove him wild, and the sight of your beautiful lips open in a perfect “o” from the overt satisfaction he was bringing you.

One last thrust had his cock completely buried inside your walls, wet and already gripping him like a vice, he wasn't going to last long with all the sensations you were bringing him. It had his head spinning, making him so fucking dizzy with lust.

In his determination to get you as close as he was, he stopped his small thrusts to spit a glob of saliva onto your clit before roughly thrusting in and rubbing his thumb over the sensitive bundle of nerves, simultaneously.

“Oh my god!” you shouted with a feminine squeak, making Eddie smirk cockily all while thrusting faster while his thumb continued to form tight circles.

“Yeah, that’s it.” He growls as his brown doe eyes bore into yours, watching as you lose yourself to that overwhelming arousal that was burning in your lower half. Eddie swiftly lifted your legs bringing them to your chest, the new angle had him hitting that little pleasure button hidden deep inside of you, head on. Whimpers and pleads fell from your mouth as your legs began to shake so intensely, you thought they'd lock up for good.

Your cunt was pulsating so fiercely around Eddie that he had to remind himself to breathe, everything felt too good and he could tell he wouldn't be able to hold out any longer, no matter what he willed his mind to distract him with.

“Im so fucking close baby, come here.” He groans, bringing his arms underneath your body and gripping you in a tight hug before yanking you up so you were practically seated on his lap, all while he was still nestled deep inside of you; then began bouncing you on his cock as if you weighed nothing. You were babbling nonsense at this point, so close to what you could tell would be the most intense orgasm you have ever had.

“Fuck yes, yes, please.” you moaned before Eddie captured your lips in a deep tongue filled kiss, heavy pants and mewls being passed back and forth into eachothers mouths making the whole scene so much more ardent and passionate.

“Oh! I'm gonna come eddie!” So close to that precipice you could practically taste it, you bounced harder on the metalhead's cock making him throw his head back while whimpers were suspended into the muggy air above.

“Good girl, that's a good girl. Gonna come so hard for me aren't you?” He had babbled those words with so much desperation that it made you hit your high instantly, with a gush of warm liquid falling over Eddie's hairy thighs and seeping deep into his mattress. A new stain added, that would commemorate this beautiful moment between two once love sick teens turned two head over heels, adults who were ready to give all they had to each other, a second chance to do what they should have a long time ago.

“Uh, gonna fill you up baby.” Eddie's grip tightened around you as heavy grunts were spewed from his pink swollen and slick lips.

The come down was filled with cuddles and kisses, as Eddie pulled you closer into his chest holding you against him as if you were the most precious thing he’d ever had in his grasp.

“You should be my date for Thanksgiving dinner.” You murmured as you burrowed deeper into Eddie's shirtless pecs.

“Mm, I should?” He responded with a playful lilt, as if he wasn't praying you'd ask him. You gave him a little nod as you bit at your lip, a hopeful gaze in your eyes.

“And then after maybe we can talk about me moving back to Hawkins.”

T A G L I S T

@ahoyyharrington @hellfirenacht @joannamuns9n @uwantagoodbhloe 🖤

#— 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 #eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie x reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie x y/n #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you #eddie stranger things #eddie munson comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x you #eddie munson fluff #eddie

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Text

midnight tow (slasher!Joel)

3.6k / slasher!Joel x fem!reader / master

Slasher masterlist | art by @bonezone44 💙

Req: Serial killer from @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog WARNINGS: Horror, DARK(serial killer)!Joel, near murder by strangulation, manhandling, dubious consent, choking, unsafe PIV sex, reader can sit on Joel's lap. unedited. I8 plus. Reader survives! ♥️

Your breath hitches when you see the bright lights, then relief floods your chest as the tow truck comes into view. The driver parks his unmarked truck, hops down out of it, and walks to your car. He gets just a couple of feet away before he stops to face you and spreads his boots, crunching the loose asphalt beneath them. The truck lights illuminate him. He's wearing a blue working man’s jumpsuit that stretches over his biceps as he crosses his arms. The name on his uniform is Joel.

Joel's dark eyes scan you, then he scratches one side of his salt-and-pepper beard. “Got anyone to come get ya, sweetheart?” He rubs the back of his neck, exposing a dark patch of sweat under his arm. "Real dangerous out here at night. . . Nothin' good happens this late.”

His voice has a calming effect, despite his unnerving words. For a moment, you admire his nice head of hair instead of facing the reality of his question.

Your car broke down in the worst possible area. Nothing within walking distance. You drained your phone battery trying to get a signal and finally managed to call for a tow, but you weren’t able to reach anyone to help you get home. Waiting for the tow felt like forever, especially without a phone or watch. It felt like something or someone was going to pop out at any minute. It's a humid night, and even the clouds have refused to cooperate, dimming the light of the nearly-full moon.

This is not the guy you talked to on the phone. His voice would’ve made an impression on you.

You tell him you weren’t able to get a hold of anyone.

“Anyone know you’re out here, might see the missed call and come lookin’?”

Maybe, but you don’t think so.

“Hmmm,” he says. “Well, lemme load your car up, then we’ll figure it out. Sit tight for me, sugar,” he says with a wink. He has a disarming energy. "Gonna take me a minute." The clouds begin to clear away from the moon, affording more light. You begin to feel better all around.

You carefully sit down on the grass near the cab of the tow truck with your knees to the side and behind you since you’re wearing a short dress. Not a single car has passed by the whole time you’ve been broken down, at least an hour. You wait as he uses some wire to secure a loose part on your car, then loads it up onto the bed.

His biceps and quads stretch his uniform as he crouches on the bed of the truck and secures the straps around your car’s wheels. He gets hot and unzips his jumpsuit for air, exposing a dirty t-shirt. Then he opens the passenger door to the cab of his truck and it's piled high with scrap. No seat. He reaches behind the driver's seat and grabs an enormous wrench. His forearm flexes as he carries it off to tighten something on the back of the towing platform. When he’s done, he comes to talk to you again.

“Whew. Been a looong day," he says as he wipes his brow with a rag then throws it over his shoulder. "How ‘bout you, sweetheart? Couldn’ta been that good."

You agree as he takes off the sleeves of his jumpsuit and ties them loosely around his waist. When you follow his large, veiny hands to his waist, it's impossible not to notice the crotch of his uniform is tight enough to see he's well-endowed. You yank your eyes back up and he crosses his arms again. His muscles are hard and he has the slightest paunch. The way his biceps and pecs stretch his t-shirt is a welcome distraction from the rock bottom situation. Looks like a guy who works with his hands, lifting very heavy things, and enjoys a few beers at the end of the day. Or night. It feels like a miracle you could get a truck at this hour, especially in this desolate area.

His phone doesn’t have service for you to call anyone. Since the service is so bad, he just has a radio to receive dispatch instructions. Since he doesn’t have a passenger seat, and that space is instead occupied by scrap, the only thing he can offer is for you to sit in his lap. Unless he leaves you by the side of the road.

You choose his lap.

He gets in first, puts the big wrench in the back, and empties his pockets. He puts a switchblade near the gear shifter and hangs some spare wire around the rearview mirror before he sits down. Then he settles in and unties his sleeves, letting them hang off the seat. He extends his massive hand to you. His bicep flexes as he helps you into the cab of the truck. You sit down on him ass-first, but it’s a precarious position and you could get hurt. You jostle around trying a few different things. You get butterflies from being so close to him, touching him, smelling him, feeling his body against yours.

“Alright, let’s try this,” he says. “Turn around an’ face me, then hug me like we're on a motorcycle. Safer.”

Hard to believe this is happening, especially in your short dress. Of all the nights to wear one. You hesitantly straddle him, and when you’re face to face a few inches away, his features are even more striking. He has a perfect nose. His brow is furled and casts a shadow over his eyes like he has a sexy secret. He has a dimple perfectly nestled in a patch of skin within his beard. Looking him in the eye is too intense at this distance.

You tug pointlessly at your dress but there’s no way to be modest in this situation. He reads your mind. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he reassures you. "Don't worry 'bout it." He pulls you in closer so your crotch meets his and your heart skips a beat when you feel his warm, ample package. “Hang on tight, now.” You put your head over his shoulder, facing the back of the truck .

The smell of his sweat is intoxicating. He starts the engine and pulls back onto the road. It’s not long before you feel him hardening under you. He lifts his hips, sending a rush of arousal through your body.

You shift shyly and he pulls you back into him, then lifts his hips again and clears his throat. “Can’t help it, sugar. Sexy little thing like you wrapped around me. Damn.”

Your face burns. There’s a long silence and his arousal is digging into your panties the whole time. He turns his head ever so slightly to inhale your hair. The next thing you know, his lips are pressed against your neck. Lightly enough to be accidental at first. But then they drag an inch without him pulling away. He opens his mouth against your dewy skin then closes it, like he’s eating something invisible off you. A chill goes down your spine and your nipples harden.

“Bother you?” he asks, subtly thrusting his hips up again. No, it doesn't. You’re hot for him. It bothers you a little that it doesn't bother you. Like you know it should. But what could you say anyway? You’re at his mercy. You might be dead on the side of the road without him.

“Guess not."

“Good girl.” He adds his tongue and full on kisses the crook of your neck as he drives, then gives it a nibble and a suck. You’re so wet. With the pathetic thong you're wearing, it must be no secret from him.

His voice gets horny and low. “Good thing you're down,” he says, “or this wouldn’t be any fun.” He drags his nose up your neck to your ear and adds "Yeah, you're into it. . .I can feel it."

By the time he pulls into a gated property, he's turned you alllll the way on. Between his voice, and his mouth on your neck, and his clothed arousal against you, you’re a wet mess. You're trying desperately not to hump him as he slowly traverses what seems to be a gravel yard of cars.

When the truck slows way down, he rests a hand on your ass and gives it a squeeze as he says, "What a ride. . ." with an upward thrust. "Ain't over yet, though." Your cunt flutters at those words. Then he clears his throat and adds, "We're goin' through the back gate to another lot." You scold yourself for being disappointed in what he meant, but you can't imagine he'd deny you if you made a move right now.

You wait, though. You'd rather figure out how you're going to get home first.

Joel drives deeper into the lot. It's dark, but you try to look around. There's no back gate or other lot that you can see. All you see are the skeletons of cars that have been picked over for scraps. A pit forms in your stomach. You start to scoot back from his crotch. He notices and parks the truck. There’s a look in his eyes, and something makes you reach for the door. His large, veiny hand gently covers yours before you can open it.

“Whoa, sugar. Where ya goin'?" Your heart rate quickens and your gut feeling intensifies. You try to get out of his lap, lunging for the door.

"What the hell are ya doin, sweetheart?" He firmly grabs your arm. You stare at him, your chest heaving, heart racing. He glances at your neck and you imagine he must see your jugular vein pulsing a mile a minute.

"Too dark out there, sugar.” You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. “Lotta sharp stuff.” He looks at you skeptically. “Lemme turn on some lights first.”

You exhale in relief. He was just protecting you.

He hits a button on his dashboard and it illuminates the surrounding area with the yellow siren lights on the top of his truck. He gazes at you through wounded eyes, looks down between you, where you're no longer covering his hard, swollen package with your crotch. He must feel so cold. He swallows.

"Damnit," he says. His eyes glisten. "Thought we were havin' fun." He sighs solemnly. "Wait here a sec." You feel bad. He’s gone above and beyond to help you. Maybe he deserves the benefit of the doubt.

So you wait in the truck, catching glimpses of vehicular carcasses as the amber light dances over them. Nothing drivable.

Then it hits you like a punch in the gut that you still can't see a back gate, even with the added light. It's just a fence. That’s all there is to it. There’s nowhere a gate would even be. No other lot in sight. Your heart races even faster than it was a moment ago.

You jump in your seat as a machine rumbles to life, followed by the sound of metal in distress. You look in the direction of the noise and the yellow lights pour over a big, industrial dumpster. Your stomach turns.

You're still processing your fear when the truck door opens, making you jump again. Joel climbs up into the cab and nudges you up so he can get under you. You freeze and do it in a daze. Then he starts the truck and coaxes you back into straddling him. You feel like you have no control, you have no idea what’s going to happen, no idea what to do.

Joel reaches behind you to the rearview mirror and sighs lazily like he's about to do a chore.

“Been a while since I shredded a car this new. Damn shame, wasn't plannin' on it tonight."

Your heart drops through your feet. “What? –why are you-”

A cool, thin wire presses against the top of your spine, then he wraps it around your neck like a scarf. His face goes dark and serious, and his voice goes flat.

“Real dangerous out here, sweetheart.”

He takes a deep breath and his cock swells harder against you. He holds the wire in one hand and tightens his other arm around your back. He slowly begins to twist the wire against itself. You grab at it and beg him to stop. To your surprise, he pauses.

You try to slow your breathing. You can’t get out, you can’t fight. He just looks at you with dead eyes, waiting for you to say something else. It hits you there's only one thing left to do to buy you some time. And you need to make him forget you tried to leave the truck.

“Wait,” you say as calmly as you can. "Weren’t we in the middle of something?" You reach down and grab the hard bulge in his jumpsuit. To your horror, a stab of desire slices through your clit. You spread your palm and press it into him, massaging his cock. You're throbbing for him. You're genuinely dying to fuck this sicko. He makes you sweat out a long moment of silence.

“Now that might get ya somewhere,” he says, low and gravely, thrusting into your hand. He lets the wire hang from your neck. One strong arm tilts you up against him while he urgently pulls his jumpsuit's zipper down more. He grunts as he frees himself from his boxers. The next thing you feel is his stiff, warm, naked cock against your inner thigh. He slips a finger into your thong and sucks in a sharp breath when he feels how wet you are.

He murmurs, “Damn, you really do want it.” He looks you in the eyes hornily, then seductively as though to say he likes where this is going. Like he didn't just loop a ligature around your neck.

He takes a deep breath. "Maybe I took it the wrong way," he says in self-reflection.

"What?"

"When you tried to open the door. . ."

He's nuts.

"I was . . . embarrassed I was getting you wet."

"That's the least of your worries."

He pushes your thong aside, then the large head of his cock finds your warm, wet little hole. He wraps both arms around you and pulls you down with a low grunt that turns into a sigh as he impales you on his shaft. You don't suppress your moan as his girth parts your core and you sink down on his cock. He fills you to the brim and stretches you wide, making you grateful for how wet you are.

"God damn, you're tight." He pulls you down even more with a lift of his hips and a vocal sigh. "This what you wanted?"

You nod and try to move your hips, but he holds you still. "Use your words."

"Yes," you say. "God, yes."

He still doesn't let you move. "What did you want?"

"Your cock"

"Yeah,” he nods. “And what do you want now?"

It feels like a trick question. "Whatever you'll give me."

You're sitting there for a moment and he studies your face like he's wondering if it's a trick. The car shredding machine roars menacingly.

Your cunt twitches and he inhales sharply.

You break the silence. "Fuck me, Joel.” He wants to be wanted. “You feel how much I want you." Then you rock your hips gently - very gently. He must want to be in control. And you don't want him to come too fast before you’ve decided what to do next.

"Please," you beg. “Fuck me,” you mouth silently with the horniest eyes you can muster.

"There she is." He lifts his hips in return.

"Please, Joel." He pulls back, then plunges into you again, holding your hips down on him. He retreats, filling his chest with air, then lifts his hips slowly again, bottoming out deep inside you with a sigh. He fills you all the way up. And when your bodies are flush, the pressure on your clit is just right. The noise of the car shredder becomes part of the background.

He gets into a rhythm, and this man knows how to fuck. He's so smooth, and your cunt squeezes his cock so tight, there are brief moments you forget what you’re supposed to be thinking about. Instead you’re just marveling at the motion of his hips and the sounds of his breath and the perfect shape of his cock dragging against your walls.

You need to access whatever part of him doesn’t want to kill you. But god, it’s hard to think with his cock inside you and your life on the line. His lower belly grinds into your mound, and his massive hands scan your back. The wire bounces around your neck.

"God, you feel good," you gush. "So good." As you ride him, you weigh the options. You could seduce him into the idea of fucking you again later then run when he's asleep, or you could fight for your life right now. Your lips graze his neck and you consider biting his jugular as hard as you can. A powerful thrust upward shakes you out of the thought and nudges your g-spot. He grunts each time your warmth sheathes him.

The window is completely fogged over. You moan, then say, "you knew it would turn me on, didn’t you?" You lightly touch the wire around your neck without removing it. You caress it. "You could tell I wanted it." You roll your hips harder into him and feel a climax building. He breathes heavily as your cunt pulls him back in each time.

"Shit," he pants. "Little sex kitten like you?" His cock twitches deep inside you and he slows down. "Course you wanted it."

"Yeah," you breathe, rolling your hips into him slowly. "Oh god," you pant. He holds your hips and gradually speeds up again, moaning and sighing.

"Lucky you're so fuckin' hot," he snarls.

"It's hot you had the balls to scare me like that," you say. "just to turn me on even more."

There’s no doubt in your mind this man is a killer, but you need him to believe you don't think he is. It’s the only way he can let you live.

"Musta worked," he pants. He fingers the cord around your neck and the rough pads of his large digits brush your delicate skin.

"Do it," you tell him. "Choke me."

He grunts "Mm" with an emphatic thrust.

You cover his hand on your neck with yours. "God I love these hands," you gush truthfully, tracing the veins as you ride him and feel something building more and more in your gut.

His hand wraps more than halfway around your throat as you bob up and down in his lap and he tightens his grip. His thumb digs into your jaw. Your hips buck into him hard as your head fills with pressure and your throat croaks. He loosens his grip enough for you to moan.

"God I wanna suck your cock," you tell him, knowing he'll come too soon before you can.

“Maybe later, sugar.” You try to suppress your excitement. You might get out of this alive. “If you’re good.”

He bites his lip, and his thrusts intensify. He wraps both arms around you and firmly cradles the back of your head with one hand, his beard prickling your cheek. He pistons into you and you let yourself come, choking his cock with your climax. You don’t hold back at all, you let it all out, almost crying as you convulse in his lap. Then he holds you down and groans, powerfully shoving his cock into you as he erupts. He empties his balls into you with a long sigh.

He rests his head back and breathes. Your climax wanes, and the next few moments feel like an eternity. The car shredder sounds louder than ever at the forefront of your mind. You have no idea whether he’s more or less likely to kill you now that he’s come. If it brings him clarity, is it going to be clear that you have to die now or clear that he never should have thought about it?

Finally, he reaches his hand to your neck and your heart skips a beat. He takes the wire and puts it back around the rearview mirror.

“Just a minute, sugar.” He nudges you up and tucks himself away in his jumpsuit. He gets out, and you stay put, his cum trickling out of you and onto the chair. It’s a delicate moment, not worth the risk of trying to run. Where would you run, anyway?

The car shredder turns off, and you relax back into the seat, ready to cry tears of joy.

Joel comes back and opens the door to the truck. He stands there for a second, looks you up and down. You must be a hot mess, and he seems to like it.

He moves his tongue in his cheek like he’s thinking. Then he says, “You really wanna suck my cock, don’t you?”

You smile. “After that? Fuck, yes. What a rush.”

He looks proud, like that really was his intent all along.

“Alright.” He climbs back into the truck with you and you get out of his way while he sits. “You’re comin’ home with me tonight.” His hands slide over your thighs, looking at you with new admiration as he pulls you in to straddle him again. “Figure out your car in the mornin’.”

If you want another one mention it in the RBs or comments. Thank you all so much for your support and engagement. Your reblogs and comments mean so much for me. Best readers out there!!

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda @blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires @taeslarityy @str84pedro @kyloispunk @filthfairy @fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine @worhols @fan-fiction-floozy @cutesyscreenname @weddingfairy

#joel miller x reader #dark!joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal fic #joel miller fic #creepy!joel miller #serial killer!joel miller #slasher!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#slasher!joel☠️#tw dubcon #tw: everything #tw strangling #tw murder #slasher!joel #content label

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