#some of you i probably already know pretty well but i just like tagging you in stuff!!! <3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gremlingottoosilly · 8 months

Text

Cleaning services (perv!Konig x fem!cleaner!Reader)

Konig needs help in decluttering and cleaning his house. Unfortunately for you, he takes quite a huge liking in having pretty things like you around. And he isn't very nice about it.

TW: Perverted Konig, age gap, Konig masturbates at you without consent, implied kidnapping, yandere Word count: 3754 This work on AO3

There is no shame in having a professional cleaner, König tries to tell himself.

Yes, he is a grown man with a very dangerous job that requires having a lot of responsibility. He holds the lives of his soldiers in his hands and risks his life every day not for the sake of his country, but certainly for the sake of his wallet and the reputation of KorTac.

Hiring a professional cleaner for his house shouldn’t make him feel humiliated and embarrassed, and he knows it. Cleaners are basically like soldiers – doing stuff that other people can’t for a certain amount of money, providing services for the clients who can afford it. Besides, it’s a support of his local community – after everything he took from the people around his town, it’s only natural that he would support this growing business of cleaning services.

There is no shame in having some nice old lady cleaning his house and watching over it while he is too busy trying not to kill himself or drown his head in liquor after a particularly rough mission. When you lose two guys on a run that was supposed to be the quickest task possible when you’re returning home with an injury that isn’t really that serious but brings your whole mental state into a very dark place, and when you’re forced to take 3 weeks of leave in the place you hate, hiring a cleaner to take care of everything really shouldn’t make him so ashamed of himself.

Even if he can clean his space – the house is just too big for only one of him, and his ribs still have this funny feeling of fantom bullets traveling around his guts. So, he dials up the number of the cleaning services because he is too fucking old to understand their weird website and messenger ordering, even though speaking with a human operator on the other half of the line is somewhat more humiliating that having no idea of how to use a modern interface.

There is no shame in asking for help, his therapist is trying to shrill it in his head all of the time and yet he is still hesitant when the cleaning professional is knocking on his door, finding this place surprisingly fast. König braces himself, thinking about all the ways he could avoid having a conversation – he drew a quick map of the place, put down the room cleaner shouldn’t be entering – his gun safe, mostly, already repeated in his head how he would greet them and swiftly extract himself from the situation.

“Guten Tag, please, come in. This is the map of the place, don’t go to the red door on the right, don’t hesitate to ask questions, I will be on the second floor.” He takes a few wide, swift steps to his door and stops. Thinks again, overthinking, thinking too fucking much about everything, anxiously checking on his phone to read the message that yes, his cleaner is here and he should probably open the door or they would burst down the window. “Guten Tag, come in. Map of the place is here, don’t go to the red door to the right, please hesitate to ask questions, I will be somewhere around the house, lurking in the shadows” He braces himself to open the door, ready to see that sweet old lady who would spend the next 8 hours cleaning his house and then turn back another day to rinse and repeat until his house stopped looking like a place where a very, very miserable man lives. (Even if this is true)

But, there isn’t a nice old lady with a bunch of cleaning supplies and determination to make someone’s life easier.

But, there isn’t a cold middle-aged woman with a very professional no-nonsense attitude who wouldn’t even talk to him before going straight to work.

But, there is a young girl. Well, not a girl, of course, if he had to guess you were somewhere around the “Too fucking young, but definitely legal” spectrum. Young enough to not be alive when he was already going to school, young enough to make him sweat, and definitely not old enough to be accepting a job where you’d have to spend so much of your life cleaning and scrubbing and sorting and…

There isn’t anything shameful in ordering a cleaning service when you genuinely need it, but you’re young and you’re pretty and he isn’t even wearing a mask because he is an old dumbass that forgot about it, and you look at him with your shiny eyes and…

Maybe, he should clean on his own – would definitely be less shameful.

— Sir? H…hello? Good morning? Can you hear me?

Yes, he can hear you.

Yes, he would love to hear you every single day of his life, when he wakes up and when he falls asleep.

— Ja. I apologize, I…thought it was mail.

It’s a dumb excuse, but he can’t really say that he was just too fucking mesmerized by your shiny eyes and perfect hair and nice figure and basically everything about you. He has this nasty habit of imagining a future with people around him – with people who just fucking want to be left alone, and yet he still stares and looks and it’s probably ultra uncomfortable for them – but he can’t help imagining the life with every cute lady in the grocery shop or elegant lady sitting next to him on a train.

He has a pattern – people who are not interested in him in the slightest. He has a pattern, a preference, cute girls, smart girls, popular ladies that were never even so much as looking in his direction. He could probably score someone now, having a colonel’s salary and honorably discharged payments, but he gave up on trying to find anyone. He has friends, company, has work where he spent most of his life anyway – he doesn’t need anyone, he wants to think.

Then you waddle into his life with a bunch of cleaning supplies and a small vacuum, barely able to handle everything in your hands. He rushes to help and envelops your hands with his – you are so much smaller in comparison, he has bear-like arms and horribly big everything. he feels awkward when he gently removes everything from your arms – when he tries to help by simply putting everything on the table of the next room.

König hated this house – it was big, it was empty, and the only reason he didn’t sell it was because Mother’s things were still locked in her old bedroom and every time he tried to clean it and evaluate the cost of the house, he decided that he will Do It Other Day. Coincidentally, all of those days were also followed by three-month minimum missions, making him utterly unable to do everything about this place anyway.

This is why you’re here – a hired cleaner, a sorter, you promised to de-hoard everything and see if there is anything of value. Perfect for someone like him, especially since he is paying you double for spending the whole day and a few days more in his house exclusively.

Now, he looks at how awkward your smile is, how you fidget with the edge of the broom you brought, and how you can’t even start a conversation because he is simply staring at you, staying in the living room of this dead, almost abandoned house. Now, he looks at how cute you are, how perfect, and remembers that he didn’t score with anyone in half a year already – not even in terms of sex, the casual flirting was also forbidden since half of his unit was transferred and the new people weren’t really fun of his tough methods of breaking rookies in.

When was the last time someone genuinely smiled at him?

Ah, he is staring again. Scheisse.

— Where do you want me to start, sir?

He wonders how much he should pay you to clean him instead. Would you be gentle? Rough? Would you call him a pervert, which he is, and then slap him and yell at him for being such a horrible old dog who is ready to pounce at every pretty girl in his presence? He would do anything that would set his mind free of the thought about Mom. Her bedroom. This whole house that he can’t call home ever since he turned 6 and understood why Father was always so, so angry.

— The living room. If it’s not too much.

He barely stops himself from talking more – you look weird, you loom surprised, you look at him like he is fucking stupid and, in fact, he is. Of course, it wouldn’t be too hard for you, you’re his clean, for fucks sake. You come here to clean, you get good money for it, he shouldn’t feel guilty for using your services because, in some way, he actually provides you with a job and a cute thing like you shouldn’t go to other houses, with old perverts that can do unspeakable things with the adorable worker.

Ah, yes, perverts like him. God, he is hopeless.

— Alright. Do you want to note something, like if there is anything I shouldn’t touch?

He would allow you to take your adorable, yellow glow-wearing hands to get into his personal savings and all of his bank accounts, if you’d want to. He curses under his breath, hating how professional you are – hard worker, perfect, simply a fantastic person who deserves more than working for him. You aren’t trying to shy away from the job and he almost resents you for it.

You’d make a good soldier, he thinks – you’re able to hear the orders and oblige to them, you’re obedient and came even before the discussed time. You’d make such a perfect private for his unit, he observes.

Ah, right, he was supposed to answer you. Shit.

— No. Just don’t go to the second room on the left.

— Alright. Anything else?

He grumbles under his breath, trying to get into the right headspace to deal with someone like you. König knows it’s rude, to just ignore and leave you like this – but if he were to stay in he same room as you, he would do something horrible, disgusting, and completely dishonorable to you. So, he leaves – escapes – to his office. Father’s office, mostly, the only thing here that belongs to him are some documents and useless papers – and a laptop that he drags to every other room anyway.

He doesn’t like this room, it reminds him of the worst episodes of his early childhood – yet, this is his only reserve. He doesn’t want to leave the house because the territory is secluded and if something were to happen to you, he would be the only one able to help. He also doesn’t want to leave his gun collection with you – he doesn’t want you to find it and freak out or hurt yourself.

This is what he tells himself, at least. He wants to be there with you, in the same room preferably, but horrible for his anxiety, because he wants this illusion, phantasm of having a loving relationship. Of having a woman in his life, a lovely housewife who would cook for him, clean for him, and would be absolutely spoiled with gifts and attention. God knows he doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body – but he will carve one out of his ribs for you.

And he only knew you for an hour tops.

König feels like literally the worst man alive when he spread his legs and starts stroking his hard, glistening cock. He brushes over the swollen, red tip, not allowing himself to have any lube other than spit and oozing pre-cum – he tries not to cum embarrassingly quickly, thinking about your perfect gestures and smiling face. How perfect you look in your cleaning uniform – not like maids from the occasional porn he was watching, but still beautiful. Your body is perfect even with all of those ugly layers and grey fabric – and he can’t stop thinking about the sway of your hips or glimpses of your legs under your dress.

He thinks about you, bent over his couch, trying to clean the especially dirty spot on the furniture – how the material of your dress would be tight around your ass. The image makes him grunt quietly, stroking his barely wet dick even more – the pain from the dry sensation only makes the pleasure all the sweeter. He is hard, was hard for the past 10 minutes as you were introducing yourself and whatever your deal is. He is dirty, perverted, knowing only your name and your face – and he is still stroking himself, thinking about paying you extra just so you’d get on your pretty knees and suck him. Would you be sloppy, messy, get his cum all over your face so you’d have to wash it off? Would you be experienced, eager, trying to get as much seed as possible with that pretty tongue of yours?

He is a lost cause because he hears the sounds of vacuum – you’re only a few rooms away from him, trying so hard to clean his house for him, to work through every bit of furniture and everything he acquired for the past twenty years or so – and he moans loudly, knowing that you don’t hear anything. You’re probably listening to music or some silly girl’s podcast about planets and gardens and maybe some university lectures. He’d pay for your courses, he would get you any book you want – having his salary and barely spending it made him softer in the saving habits.

He can afford to splurge on a pretty girl who just needs a rich Austrian mercenary to sweep her off her feet. But, he is old – but, he is a monster who preys on someone helpless, using her pretty face to jerk himself off, and he doesn’t even deserve your number, although he has had it since accepting the service.

His cock is big, angry red in his hand as he runs his finger over the bulging vein, teasing the sensitive flesh – always loud in bed, with grunts and moans of pleasure, he can barely contain himself now, only forcing his mouth shut when he doesn’t hear the sound of vacuum anymore. He strokes his dick fast, angry, and slams it into his fist, trying to make the pain last longer, so he won’t cum after a minute or two. He has the stamina to last longer – but it’s also the first time he was so horny since…he can’t even remember.

König thinks about putting you in his bed – like a perfect housewife, you would hug his waist with your legs, would allow him to lick and grope at your tits, and won’t scream too much when he’d force his tongue inside of your precious pussy, taking every last drop of your pleasure. He wouldn’t want to be forceful, angry, you’re too precious for this and too weak for his strength – but he can imagine slamming into you in a matting press, cumming inside and not even pulling out, warming his cock in the heat of your body.

Father would kill him for doing something so dirty in his office – but he is long dead, devil save his soul, and it’s König’s office now. Even when he barely uses it, even if he doesn’t really need this. It came in handy when he had to jerk off to the pretty cleaning girl who cleaned up after him – so, somehow, his father managed to improve his mood 15 years after he died.

He cums with a low groan, whispering your name – he doesn’t understand how a pretty thing like you still works here and wasn’t taken by someone else already, but he would take what he can get. Never the one to get the first dibs, never being someone’s first choice – he feels terrible for thinking about you in such a low way, but his pleasure sticks to his fingers and, at this point, it’s too late to feel bad.

Drying the tip of his dick with a tissue, he spends a good few minutes with spread legs, his soft cock laying on the chair, with cum still oozing out – such a waste, honestly, would be much better to stuff you full of his cock or even take your pretty ass, spread you slowly. Keep only the tip in, not pressuring you into anything more until you’d start moving yourself, like a good slut you will be.

So perfect under him – the images and sounds of your voice are running through his mind, making him breathe heavily. If he was younger and had as much sex drive as before, he would already be hard – but he needs some time to relax, thinking about your pretty legs and adorable face.

It takes him a few minutes of listening to your sweet voice to understand that you were not, in fact, a hallucination or a mystical fairy coming to make him come. You were standing outside of the office door, looking embarrassed and clearly hearing at least some of his horny mumblings – you avoid looking at him, and your fingers are trembling when you tug at the sides of your dress. Guilt immediately rushes to him again, he looks at you like a perfect treasure you are – and he is a horrible monster trying to hoard all of it to himself.

— What is it, liebling?

Petname goes smoothly from his tongue and he can only hope that you don’t know German – he is too embarrassed to talk to you, too anxious, his newfound shyness is a result of both your beauty and the post-nut clarity that already made him feel like a monster. He contemplates just giving you money and sending you off, paying double for the false call, and leaving you a 5-star review so you won’t get in trouble with your boss.

You look so meek from his angle of view – he has to fight the urge to pinch your face, squeeze your cheeks, grab your waist in his firm hands, and just lift you in his arms, holding you to his bed. Maybe getting a nice set of cuffs to ensure you would never escape from him.

— I finished with the living room and…well, I just wanted to ask if you want the decluttering work to be done today or tomorrow.

He remembers how he basically paid you for a few days worth of work – and he smiles at exactly how perfect this decision was. Of course, you are a smart girl, a modest girl, you aren’t staying the night and would rather waste time on the road, much to his dismay, but at least he would see you for a few days already.

He might not even let you go after.

— Ach. Today, if it’s not too…

He stops himself again – of course, it’s not too much, you are a professional, not just a friend that comes to clean his place for a pack of beer and maybe some pizza. He doesn’t know how to talk to you, anxiety eats him whole, and he has to just avoid looking at you to avoid further embarrassment.

— Alright. I will do it right away then.

You smile awkwardly, your lips are twitching and he already knows that you could hear him moaning your name and sweet little praises while stroking his cock. You aren’t biting the hand that feeds you, not running away screaming at how perverted he is – poor girl, you probably need money more than you need personal safety if you’re fine with him heaving like this. If you were his, he would never allow you to be so careless.

He moves behind you in the most dreaded room of the house. Mother’s bedroom, a room that she only used for sewing and only allowed him in when he was extra whiny after another failed fight with his bullies. All of her thighs are here – ever since she passed away, he just moved everything to one room and locked it, barely bothering to keep a key. He hates being here, almost as much as being in Father’s office — this room smells like death and old paper and you scrunch your nose in an adorable expression when you take a step inside.

— I will divide everything into categories, alright?

— Gut.

You look at him nervously, clearly scared that he is watching over you now. It might feel like a logical decision – after all, it was his mother’s vintage things, who knows what kind of jewelry she kept here, something that he won’t even notice gone until it’s too late. You and him both know, however, that this isn’t the reason he is looming over you. A perfect obedient thing, you deserve something better than his affection, but he still locks his gaze with yours, looking at your hands and going through various furniture pieces.

You work like a fairy, not an ounce of laziness or exhaustion in your actions – even after you already spent a few hours cleaning his living room, you act like a Cinderella that got a bunch of magic mice up her rags. He licks his lips, looking at your perfect ass you as sit on your knees, starting with decluttering every little box there is.

— Can I just put it back in boxes or…

You look the the contents – vintage makeup, some jewelry, head pieces that don’t look particularly expensive but were definitely well-loved. You wonder who they belong to – probably a wife, or, maybe, some of his relatives who lived here. He doesn’t seem like a married or divorced man – he does, however, look insanely lonely.

It takes him a good few seconds to respond, too mesmerized by the little song you were humming a minute before. He imagines you in that old, chunky jewelry, some necklaces that cost more than your salary – and the thought makes him salivate.

He smiles, leaning closer to you – hot breath on your face, you shift immediately, scared. He is so fast for someone so big, his movements are perfect and his eyes are cold – you feel the chill deep in your bones when he moves even closer, his lips almost brushing against yours.

Suddenly, you are very aware of the fact that he locked the door to this tiny room when you both moved in.

#cod #call of duty #cod x reader #konig x reader #yandere konig #cod x you #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere cod #male yandere #konig #konig x you #konig cod

4K notes · View notes

miserycanary · 3 months

Text

MY HELL FOR YOUR LOVE ᡣ𐭩

♡⃛ ‘A Fixed Heart in Your Hand' alternative ending

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & fem!reader

synopsis: alternative ending because I feel bad for hurting y'all

tags: hurt/COMFORT, fluff

"Sir? Sir!”

Ghost flinches as he realizes he’s been spacing out, the florist now looking at him with furrowed eyebrows. “Are you going to buy something or not?” she snaps, motioning at the display of bouquets. “Uh, yeah. Give me something with hyacinth and baby breaths,” he mutters, handing her a 100 bill. “Hyacinth? Never thought I’d see a day where a man knows a different flower aside from roses, tulips, and sunflowers,” the vendor chuckles, arranging the flowers neatly and covering them with a brown printed paper tied with a twine. “Ah,… if I know something, it’s about her.” The florist smiles, handing Ghost the bouquet and his change while saying, “Well, I can see that you love her dearly.” With a soft smirk, he replies, “That I do.”

You’ve always had a love for flowers. Going as far as to even beg him to make you a flower bed. Ghost didn’t like doing physical labor with him already getting beat from training at the base, yet when you flashed him that smile (and gave a toe-curling blowjob), how could he refuse? Since then, flowers as gifts have been rare between you two. Instances where he’d give you one are when you’re on a terrible period day or during milestones (the flowers coming from the patch he secretly planted months before).

It’s been two days since you’ve left the apartment, staying at your friend’s house, but Ghost insists on having you keep some of your stuff in the unit because, “well, you technically have ownership of the place since we shared the payment for this month.” It was a poor excuse, really, but it worked. Ghost knows you well enough to know that you haven’t broken up with him despite what you said. Leaving and staying somewhere else is something you do when you’re hurt and need space, and he knows that deep inside, you’re waiting for him.

Don’t get him wrong. He doesn’t think you’re “easy to get” and he did really regret everything. The last 2 nights without you knocked some sense into him. The night felt colder, somber, and… lonely. Something he thought he would never complain about. I mean, this man has been through worse situations and he prefers solitude, but not if it’s solitude without you. You’re the one thing he can’t live without.

He has sent you multiple voicemails, messages, and even money as an apology. He’d always drop off by your friend’s place with some poorly attempted home-cooked meal of your favorite dishes. Sometimes he’d be able to steal a glance at you when he saw you coming up to the unit right before he arrived, sending flutters to his heart and butterflies in his stomach like a high school boy with a crush.

Now he stands by the door, hoping he’d leave the place with you in his arms, and him in your heart again. Three knocks (you always say less or more than that are for psychopaths) and a call of your name. Simon couldn’t help but chuckle when he heard your familiar cry, probably from rushing and stumbling. The wooden door cracked open, and the adrenaline that rushed through his nerves just from seeing you again could knock the man dead. He couldn’t even say anything except literally melt and give you the warmest smile. “Hi,” he softly greets, pulling the bouquet out of the paperbag and handing it to you with another gift. It was a charm... a tree bark with your initials engraved. You chuckle, pulling out the letter sticking out.

One thing you learned about your Simon was that he’s not entirely good at conveying his feelings. I mean, that’s literally the reason for this fight. Yet he got out of his comfort zone, wrote you a fucking letter.

You look at him, tears in your eyes before jumping into his arms.

“I fucking missed you, pretty girl,” he mutters, holding you up by your ass and pressing a deep kiss on your lips. God, you taste like heaven; you taste like salvation. He tangles his fingers in your hair and pushes you closer, afraid you’ll slip from his fingers again.

From that day on, Simon learned one thing. That he would rather go through the depths of hell (talk about his feelings) than go through a day without your love.

| The letter:

‘To my darling flower, I’m sorry for even hurting you. I’m sorry I was a shit-ass about how I processed my emotions and got you involved. You’ve always told me that you’re there for me but I didn’t want to burden you. I always want you to be happy but my actions just did the opposite. I’m sorry that I didn’t say anything that day. That I didn’t even ask you to stay. I’m sorry for being a coward. I’m sorry that I let you go.

With this letter, I ask for your forgiveness and for you to have me back. I will be better because I cannot afford to lose you for you have my heart and soul. You are my whole life. You are the thing that makes surviving each day worth it.’

꒰ა ☆ ໒: Now you guys know why Ghost calls Y/N ‘flower’. This the comfort alternative ending because it was also requested. 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

⟢ taglist: @softestqueeen

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

#simon ghost x you #simon riley fluff #simon riley cod #simon riley call of duty #simon ghost x reader #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #ghost mw2 #ghost cod #cod modern warfare #cod x reader #ghost riley #simon riley #canary’s symphonies #canary’s melodies

1K notes · View notes

ramonathinks · 2 months

Text

ALL HE WANTS — EREN x BLK!READER

tags: 18+ (no minors/no blank blogs — you will be blocked), shotgunning, sex, kinda friends to lovers, established relationship (towards the end), oral (f!), making out, sexual tension, eren has a tongue piercing and dimples, fingering, dirty talk, reader is black, mutual pining, dry humping, unprotected sex, dubcon (both a little buzzed on weed),

notes: this is a repost ofc but... i wasn't about to miss daddy's birthday lolll. (1)(2) “continue reading” divider by @/anitalenia 4.1k words ! + repost!

“When you gonna stop playing and let me be your man, baby?” Eren had his hands in his pockets and lent up against the wall, staring you down. The way he talked always made your body shiver, the way he looked deep into your eyes made you want to moan.

“Just gimme the weed, please.” You rolled your eyes at him. He was always like this — teasing you whenever he saw you all dolled up; tonight you wore a short peach colored dress that made your chest look even bigger, and his eyes kept glancing down constantly from your lips to your chest.

He probably kept looking at your lips because of how plump and bright they were decorated with the clear sticky fruity smelling lipgloss you always wore. Your hair was done in a wavy black hair done in a 32inch half up-half down that framed your face pretty well; and Eren tried to act like he didn’t realize it wasn’t the hairstyle he picked for you a while back.

Unintentionally he licked his lips before digging through his pockets for what he came over to deliver. Normally he didn’t hand deliver anything, he made people come to him, but this was you.

Sweet smelling you who always looked as good as you smelt and right now there was an aroma around you that smelled of nothing but strawberries and some other fruity smell that he couldn’t decipher. It wasn’t even just the fact that you smelled so good but rather the way you looked so good too, always with your hair done even your nails — long coffin shaped, pink and white acrylic with little designs on them — and your face, bare or not your skin was always glistening rich brown.

He was always losing his focus when you were in the room. He handed you your weed and turned to leave. “Wait, here—”

He scoffed, “On the house.” He waved you off, he did this all the time, no matter how many times you begged him to just take the money.

“Eren!” Using his long legs to stroll out of the hallway and towards the apartment complex’s door. He almost made it out before he felt you tug at his arm, a deep pout on your face.

“You’ll get wrinkles. Don’t…” He caressed the area between your eyebrows and trailed down to your jaw — taking it in his hands and squeezing it, making your pout deeper before he let it go.

“Just here, okay? I’m grateful you don’t make me pay since we’re friends,” That definitely wasn’t the reason, but he didn’t say anything. “But just take it. I can pay, you know I can.” Your eyelids fluttered innocently.

He sniffled, “Fine. Fine. Just this once.” He flicked your nose. Then Eren looked at you, truly looked at you and smiled a bit. You were really too cute. “Are you coming to Connie’s party in a few?”

“Yeah, I was actually just getting ready before you came.” You tell him, finally letting go of his arm.

“And that’s what you’re wearing?” He swallowed, biting his tongue. He sounded so judgmental that your eyes widened before you looked down at yourself.

It was cold yes but you always chose being cute over being cold, plus you were always being driven around so you weren’t even outside enough to feel the freezing cold air and it was only a small bit of occasional snow, nothing too bad.

“What’s wrong with it?” You craned your neck a bit to see your backside. Everything was in tact and in place.

Jealousy was already deep in his chest and tugging at his heart, making everything feel so tight around him. He just shook his head, “Nothing, just thinkin’ bout how cold it is, that’s all. But I know you already have a ride lined up, right?”

Playfully rolling your eyes you smirk, “Actually…” Twiddling with your fingers, he watches you already knowing where this was going. “I was hoping, you’d take me if you had a chance? Maybe?”

“Do I ever say no to you?” He asked, walking back down the hall with you towards your apartment again.

This wasn’t his first time inside of your apartment. But for some reason he couldn’t help but to be in awe. You lived in luxury — marble countertops, a wide double door silver fridge, a patio… he knew he couldn’t compare to the lifestyle your father already had you in.

He wish he could... but he couldn’t. He made enough on selling whatever he could but it was only enough for him, not a lifestyle like yours. He wouldn’t be able to provide for you like you needed. Even if he got a real good job, nothing could truly live up to your norm and he would hate for you to settle.

It was the reason that he never truly could actively pursue you like he wanted with a good conscience. How could he pursue you when you had everything you wanted and then some?

Even the fuzzy pink rug on your floor looked like it was worth a couple thousand. A glossy painting of you hung in the center of your living room and it caught his eye, the last time he was inside it wasn’t there.

“Isn’t it nice? Looks almost as cute as the real thing, Hm?” You teasing, putting a finger to your cheek.

He gave you a side eye with a smile so deep enough that you could see his dimple and it made your heart flutter.

You always thought he was cute just not boyfriend material. You weren’t even being judgmental but you heard about Eren long before you had met him. Just a boy who always wanted to get his dick wet and especially when he had pretty clients, you couldn’t take him serious. Even if you wanted to.

When he wasn’t being a flirt, he was a good friend, always came when you needed him, even if it was just for a ride. He was always so sweet and treated you better than any of your boyfriends.

“You think I should just settle for some pants instead of this then, huh?” You did a slight twirl. You could tell he really liked what you had on but just not today. Not where y’all was headed.

He clicked his teeth with his tongue, “Uhh…” He looked you over, his gaze lingering on all assets.

His knee was bouncing and he was getting up before he realized. He never been inside of your room, let alone your closet. So this was all new territory to him, yet he felt like he knew where everything was.

He don’t know why he loved seeing you in your pink moon boots but he knew he wanted to see them on you tonight. He peaked over his shoulder, looking at you briefly before looking over your closet again. “Hm,” He held out two different shirts, you chuckled.

“Maybe this one with the hearts to match the boots and then a nice mini skirt… not too short.” He knew how you liked to dress and you gave him a coy smile.

“Ya know what, Yeager? You’re cute.” You kissed his cheek before pushing him out the room to get dressed. You hate to admit you were feeling hot all over, most guys didn’t come into your room for anything but sex and even though you weren’t expecting him to come in and help you decide on something else he did. It was little. But more than you were used to.

Eren on the other hand, was trying not to palm his dick. Touching the soft fabric of your clothes and imagining them on your skin, had him gulping. He paced the living room before he heard small paws running up to him and yelping. A small bundle of golden tan fur ran up to him, scratching and sniffing the area around him.

“Princess!” You yelled, running out to get your little dog. “Sorry Eren, she loves new people. I thought she would stay sleep, but...” You coo and tap the floor so that she comes running. “I’ll put her up and then we can go.” You scoop her up.

He stops you, “Let me meet my baby’s baby.” He ushers her out of your hand and into his own, a deep smile on his face as she licks his fingers.

You ignore what he says and how it makes your stomach flutter, you just cross your arms and watch. “She’s the cutest.” He tells you, staring you down with a hooded gaze. “Let’s get going, ‘kay?”

You nod, heading to put her into a crate so she can sleep until you get back.

He waits for you, even when you lock up your apartment, he opens the car door for you. You don’t know why but you feel like everything’s going to change tonight.

And Eren can feel it too.

------

It isn’t until you’re already there that you realize his hand was on your thigh the entire car ride. His touch leaving a trail of hotness and when he finally parked, your eyes wouldn’t leave your thigh. Was it weird that you were already missing his touch against your skin?

You heard a few people greeting him as he caught up towards the house behind you, he nodded to a few and did a half wave to some others.

“Birthday boy Yeager, finally! Being late to your own party, really man?” Connie greeted him and your body froze.

Eren didn’t mention it was his birthday. Connie didn’t even mention it when he invited you. You frowned and moved closer before squeezing Eren’s side.

A slight yelp, “The fuck was that for?” He asked, looking down at you with furrowed brows.

“It’s your birthday and you didn’t tell me? You were selling me weed on your birthday, driving me to your birthday party and didn’t bother to mention it?”

“It…skipped my mind.” He muttered, scratching the back of his head.

“You didn’t tell your girl your birthday?” Connie snickered. “You didn’t want any birthday sex? Mannn—“

Eren lightly jabbed Connie’s arm, “You know we’re just friends.”

But really, who could tell? Whenever you both were together, you both always stood so close together, sometimes even with his hand on your waist. Deep long stares and only focusing on each other.

“Rightttttt.” Connie laughs and waves you and Eren down to the basement. “So while the party’s upstairs… our real party will be right here, just the gang you know…” He explained while you looked over the place.

A comfy basement with a long couch and two loveseats, a few white garden chairs. A bong on the table that sat in the middle and a few bottles of alcohol. “Sooo, where is everyone?” You raised your eyebrows, arms folded against your chest.

Connie thinks for a moment before raising a finger, pulling out his phone and calling someone. “Yeahhh, hello?” You and Eren shared a glance before looking back at Connie. “Fuck, you gotta be kidding me… no, no, it’s fine,” Connie does an awkward smile to you both. “Alright. Yeah. See you soon.” He sighs.

“Fuck, I gotta go. Sasha said she needs me to get her. Then Jean too and… yeah… basically I think all those fuckers need a ride.” He explains. “Please make yourselves comfortable down here or upstairs, whatever. I’ll just be right back.” He jogs up the stairs and closes the door.

You feel awkward just standing so you smooth out a place on the loveseat and sit down.

But of course you weren’t planning on Eren sitting next to you. Cramped up and all in your space, his legs spread wide with almost little room for your legs. You stare at him, “Seriously?”

He does a sly smile, “I can’t sit next to you? You gonna deny me all tonight huh?”

Remembering it was his birthday, you just let him. His arm over your shoulder and pulling you in. “Fine… fine.” You mutter, pulling out some of the weed you brought from him earlier.

“Hey…lemme roll that for you.” He doesn’t wait for you to answer, he just does it. The shiny piercing on his tongue showing itself as he licked up the paper.

You squeezed your thighs, just watching him. He pulled out a lighter from his pocket and with a few clicks, he lit your blunt and took one long drag from it, finally handing it to you.

“Thanks…” You brought it to your lips and his eyes burned into yours. You inhaled, smiling as you felt it come over you. You hummed to yourself, your hooded eyes watching him as he watched you.

“How you feelin’?” You heard him ask, your body humming and you leaned closer into his touch. Your head laying on his shoulder.

“Good.” You responded shortly. “Just really good.”

“I’m glad to hear that baby.” His voice sounded closer but you ignored it. You smoked the blunt again and when you went to exhale, he pressed his lips to yours, just a small peck.

Briefly, you would’ve missed it if your eyes weren’t open.

“Been wanting to do that all day.” He rubbed a hand down his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay…” You swallowed. “You can do it again.”

It was all he needed. His hands grabbed your face gently and he pressed a small peck on your lips. Then again. His hands touch the skin of your thigh when he goes in a bit deeper. No more little kisses, he’s fully kissing you on the lips. “Must be the weed, hm? You’d never let me kiss you…fuck,” He sounds pissed but mainly at himself.

“I took like two puffs, I’m barely…buzzed. I just… I mean why not?” You ask aloud, looking at him. Maybe you were just tired of pretending that you didn’t want him. That you didn’t want this. You were horny and maybe a quick fuck to get him out of your system would be good for the both of you.

“You like playing with my heart huh? You know how I feel and…” He trails off. “You know I like you—“

“You don’t like me, you just wanna fuck me like everyone else.” You had a hard time believing that he had feelings for you, that he wasn’t like any of the others before him. You wave him off but he grabs your wrist.

He clicks his teeth before laughing, “No, no, no…Baby. You’re special to me. Just want you all to myself, always.”

You snort, “Yeah right…” But your body felt so hot and like you’re wearing too many clothes.

“Come sit on my lap pretty girl. Let me show you something.” He pats his lap and grabs your waist, tightly.

“Show me what?” You were curious but you knew that you wouldn’t be able to come back to being just friends if you did what he asked.

“How much I like you.” He lifted you with ease and in an instant, you were on him. You could feel just how big and hard he was under you. You swallowed, wrapping your hands around his neck.

“Well? Show me.” You smile, hotness rolling off the both of you in waves. He smiles before he brings you in and kisses you.

Moaning when he pulls you closer, jerking his hips up to yours. His hands exploring your body and his tongue enters your mouth, swirling around. Slipping his tongue in and out your mouth, sucking on yours. His hands traveling down your back until he gripped your butt, spreading and massaging them in his large palms before sliding them up and down your back.

He kisses the sides of your neck and you take another drag of the blunt, feeling your lungs expand and the sensation of his mouth and hands making you shiver. He grabs your hips and rolls his more into yours, the fabric of his denim jeans hitting your clit.

Breathing heavily you inhale and with shaky hands you pull him forward. Kissing him with the smoke still in your lungs, his cock throbbing in his pants, he’s trying not to be greedy but he wants you. Tracing up and down your shirt, slipping his fingers underneath.

He feels a bit giggly afterwards. With a dopey big grin on his face, “You’re so pretty. Like an angel.” You’re smiling so hard that your cheeks hurt but your pussy is pulsing and you need him.

“Eren… thank you. But I just… need… I need you to…Please just touch me. Please.” His hands roam again. His cock half hard in his pants and his hands on your hips, he makes you roll them against his again. You gape and gasp a bit, feeling how hard he is against your damp dainty panties.

His hands are under your skirt and he massages the bit of your butt and thighs, spreading and patting you. He kisses you full on the lip and sucks more on your tongue before pulling back, “You’re just so pretty.” His forehead is on yours and his eyes are eating you up.

Your clit pulses and throbs the more he rolls your hips against his and the way he’s digging his fingers into the skin of your butt and thighs, you’re groaning and sighing, “This feels so…” you wrap an arm around his neck. “Good.” You whisper in his ear and feel him shiver, you press small kisses up and down his neck. “You’re so hard…” You lick him, small and to the point. “Eren…I—“

“Shhh,” He stops your hips, that were now moving on their own. “Just keep doing what feels natural… what feels right. We can talk about all of this later. But now? Let me make you feel good, yeah? Wouldn’t you like that?”

And it’s the way that he says it, honestly, that makes your heart speed up and your panties even more wet before he slips them to the side.

“Holy shit, already? This wet, baby? Damn…” His fingers sticky just from a quick slip inside, your mouth open and your legs shaking. “Knew you couldn’t resist me.” You hear the sweet sounds of him fingering you, the wet noises echoing in the dark room.

“Fuck,” He mutters, flexing his fingers and twisting them inside. You clamp down on him and he bits his lip before kissing you, trying to keep you both quiet.

You lifted his shirt a little, looking at his stomach as he breathes in and out, his stomach muscles flexing. You smile to yourself, helping him out of his shirt before you trail your hand up and down his muscular chest and stomach. A semi thick patch of hair from his stomach and disappears down into his pants catches your attention and with a deep gulp your fingers dance lightly on his stomach until they disappear into his pants.

His breath hitches, “Your hands are so…whew,” His eyes are closed when you touch him, stroking him. “So damn soft. Too damn soft.” His hips jerk up at the contact of your hand against him.

“Has anyone ever—?” He doesn’t say it but licks his lips and sucks at his teeth.

“No, never…” Boys were too interested in sex never foreplay or oral. Some never even looked at your pussy.

He huffed, “Idiots. Want you to sit on my face, okay?” He could feel you twitching and your body freeze up.

“You’re so weird you know that?” You squeeze at his tip and he whined a bit, taking your wrist and taking it out of his pants.

“Hey, been thinking about it forever.” He have, he liked being your friend but he always thought about what’s between your legs. He always felt so guilty for it, this ulterior motive of his.

With your skirt still on, you move to hover over him. He breathes you in and groans out a deep “Fuck.” His tongue soaked in spit but he grabs at your thighs and slurps at your swollen clit. The heavy scent of your aroma wafting around his face.

Your thighs shaking as you rock your hips against him, but he wants to take things slow. Your juices all over his mouth and even a bit on his nose. You hated how greedy you were being. His tongue flicking at your stick clit and sucking on your lips.

“Eren! Faster…faster, please.” The cold metal piercing brushed against your clit and had you seeing stars so clearly that you tugged at his dark hair.

He liked the way his name sounded rolling off your tongue, even the way your mouth looked when you said it. Your lips: a work of art and your voice a song. So to be the one who’s listening and the one giving you this pleasure? He couldn’t help but smile to himself. To revel in it.

He chuckles listening to the soft moans of your pleads and begging, “No need to beg, don’t you know you own me? I’m yours. I’ll do whatever you say.”

His voice made you clench and he pressed small kisses up your slit before stretching you apart, “Think I can see you getting all wet for me…” His tongue dives in and your toes curl as he licks around the insides of you. Sucking at your folds and diving inside of your wetness, he moved one of his hands from your thighs and rubbed with two fingers on your achy clit. You shuddered, biting your lips.

He smiles looking at your pussy, so wet and pretty before he dives back in. Really just wanting to be covered in your scent. He gives a few more sucks, your hips raising and thrashing against his face.

“Baby,” The breath of his deep chuckle hitting your pussy and you shiver. “I’m leaking in my pants. I need you. Badly.”

He took his time but he laid you out on the couch, looking at the amount of your arousal that ran down your legs. He watched your pussy twitch, using his fingers he spread you open, clenching around the cool empty air. “Fuck,” you already looked fucked out and he haven’t even been inside of you yet.

Sliding his thick cock between your wet folds he felt you tremble. Tapping the head against your clit, he felt you jolt and he slowly slid inside of you. Your walls sucking him in and squeezing him tightly.

He groans, almost collapsing on top of you and you dig your nails into his back, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Wanted you for so long.” He kisses you quick and laced your fingers together, squeezing your hand. “It’s so wet inside of you, feels so fucking good.” Stretching and carving your insides to only fit his shape. Everything sounded underwater as he continued to pound inside of you. “You’re so perfect. So pretty. Fuck.” He angled his hips before thrusting faster inside of you. “So tight, so pretty, so mine.” He purred, licking up your throat and sucking; leaving a trail of hickies in his wake.

“Eren, oh god.” You breathe, worked up. He brings your legs from his waist and bring them closer to your head, forcing his cock even deeper inside of you.

“Think I’m in love withchu…” His thrusts are strong and now your feet dangling over your head, you couldn’t think straight. “But I think you already know that, hm? Think you love having me wrapped about your fingers.” Meeting every thrust he made, you felt a small bit of squirt splash and soak up his cock as he pulled it out before plunging back inside of you.

Your stomach is twisting and your toes curl heavenly as his dick continues, you push at his chest. “Wait! Eren…I…” You feel even more pressure in your gut and clench around him. “Please… no more.”

Your eyes are watery but Eren doesn’t care, instead he uses the pads of all his fingers and do deep aching rubs on your clit. Writing his name in your clit with your fingers, your thighs shake and then you’re finally cumming all over him and with a few more hard thrusts, he follows with a deep groan of your name.

He lays on top of you for a second to catch his breath before kissing you again. “I like you. Always have.” He huffed.

You bite back a smile. “I like you too…” You tell him shyly.

He gets up and hands you your pretty panties with a smug look. “So will you be my girlfriend?”

You chuckle, “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll be your girlfriend Eren.”

All Eren could think of was that this was his best birthday in a long while. He peppering kisses over your face.

“Alright… birthday boy, put some pants on.” You snicker, looking at his lower half, he was already getting back hard.

“Oh right.” He kissed you again.

2K notes · View notes

scuderiahoney · 6 months

Text

Sweet Like Grenadine

Daniel Ricciardo x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: You love weddings. However, you don’t love being stuck by yourself at a wedding, a plus one to a boyfriend who’s too busy for you. Enter Daniel Ricciardo, your knight in shining armor.

Word Count: 5.6k

a/n: thought of this concept and couldn’t get Danny out of my head. He’s soooo guy you flirt with at a wedding and will probably never see again coded

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content (heavy makeout? idrk how to tag this stuff), one (1) shitty boyfriend

The table in front of you is draped with a heavy white tablecloth. At the center is a large bouquet of flowers, the number 19 stuck haphazardly in the middle of it. Not last, but certainly low on the list. You can’t blame them- you barely know the bride and groom.

You’re only here because your boyfriend is a groomsman. A plus one. You love weddings, so of course you’d agreed, but you hadn’t really considered how lonely an event like this could be. The only person you really know has been busy all day. You can’t complain, won’t complain, you know that’s why he’s here, but…

You’re sitting at a table full of strangers. It’s not exactly fun. There’s still hours left of this. Dinner hasn’t even been served, there’s still speeches and cake and dancing and honestly, you’re already exhausted. You need a drink, but the bar isn’t open yet. You need to take off your heels, but you’re pretty sure that would be frowned upon. You need to talk to your boyfriend.

He’s busy, though. He told you as much when you found him between the ceremony and the reception. There’s a pang in your chest still at the way he brushed you off, the way he told you he didn’t have time to chat. You get it, you really do. You’re not going to get upset about it.

The seat to your left has been empty since you sat down, but someone collapses into it, letting out a heavy sigh. You turn to look, hoping for some sort of familiar face or at least a friendly one, and you’re met with-

“Hi. ‘M Daniel,” he says, sticking his hand out to shake yours.

The thing is, Daniel is a familiar face, but not for any of the reasons you’d hoped for. You know Daniel because your boyfriend is obsessed with Formula 1. You try to keep up so you can take part in his conversations, but it’s never really been your thing. But you know enough to know Daniel Ricciardo.

“Yeah, I… I know,” you say, before you slap your hand over your mouth. “Shit! I’m sorry. That’s weird. S’just- my boyfriend’s a huge fan-“

You swear his face drops slightly, but he plasters that grin right back on before he says, “and you’re not a fan?”

“I’m not not a fan,” you say. “He’s just the bigger fan. Of the two of us.”

Daniel nods. You finally shake his hand. He never stops looking at you, never stops smiling. You tell him your name, and he repeats it back to you, his accented version making you smile.

“Well, is he here? I’d love to meet the bigger of the two fans,” he says. “We talking, like, box fan, industrial blower, air boat fan? How big?”

You laugh, his hand squeezing yours as you lean over the table. He’s laughing, too, then, before he lets go of your hand. You want to crawl out of your skin, want to run and hide in the bathroom, because you’re definitely making a fool of yourself, but-

“Oh, he’s busy,” you say, waving your hand in the air dismissively. “He’s one of the groomsmen, got a lot on his plate. I don’t wanna bug him. He’s the one with the sunglasses on,” you say, pointing at him at the head table.

Daniel looks where you point and quirks his brow. “Guy like that has a girl like you and you’re the one worried about bugging him?”

You stare at him with wide eyes. He collapses into a fit of laughter again, and you follow suit. You don’t know what else to do. Then he nudges your knee with his, under the table, and juts his chin towards the bar.

“D’you want a drink?” He asks.

“The bar isn’t open yet,” you say.

“So?”

“So, how are you going to get a drink?”

He shakes his head and purses his lips. “Oh, sweetheart, you just watch and learn. What’re you having?”

You shrug. “A soda, I guess. I’m the designated driver for at least three of the groomsmen.”

Daniel sighs heavily. “You poor thing. You keep making me feel worse and worse for you. Alright, I’ll get you something.”

He strides his way up to the bar, which has a very obvious “Closed” sign on the countertop. There’s a single bartender behind it, and he’s cleaning glasses. You watch with entertainment as Daniel leans on the counter, exuding confidence and charm. The bartender shakes his head. Daniel counters. The man behind the bar shrugs and nods. Then he steps through a door for just a moment. When he returns, he has two drinks in his hands- one that’s obviously a beer, and one that’s bright pink. Daniel smiles, thanks the man, and walks the cups back to you.

He sets it down in front of you with a flourish before he takes a seat.

“I told you, I’m DD,” you remind him.

He nods, taking a sip of his beer before he says, “Shirley Temple.”

“Oh my god,” you say, a grin washing over your face. You pick up the cup and take a sip, sighing at the sweet taste of ginger ale and grenadine. “How did you know?”

“Everyone loves a good Shirley,” he says, elbowing you lightly. “And you can’t drink just plain soda at a wedding.”

They announce dinner shortly after that, and the waiters start bringing plates out. You’re starving, having been up early to help with last minute wedding things at your boyfriend’s request. You hadn’t had time to eat lunch. You chat with Daniel through the meal. The two of you talk about the food, about the wedding, about the decor. There are other people at the table, but they’re all incredibly boring in comparison. Daniel, on the other hand, could hold your attention forever, probably.

You sneak glances at your boyfriend, surrounded by his friends at the head table. He’d promised to sneak away as soon as he got a chance. He hasn’t even looked your way. You're trying to ignore the hurt deep in your chest. Daniel is sneaking glances at you sneaking glances at the bridal party. You’re trying to ignore that, too.

“How long have you two been dating?” Daniel asks.

“About 6 months,” you say with a smile.

It feels forced. Frankly, the last thing you want to talk about right now is your boyfriend. They’re clearing the last plates. He’s at his table, three beers in by your count, not a care in the world. He promised. Daniel opens his mouth, likely to ask another question about your boyfriend, but you speak first.

“So wait, are you here for the bride or the groom?” You ask.

“The bride,” Daniel says , a soft smile on his face. “An old family friend. I’m representing the Ricciardos.”

You smile. “That’s sweet.”

Before he can say anything in response, someone is tapping on a microphone. It’s time for the speeches. You know your boyfriend isn’t making one, which is good. He’s not exactly the best public speaker, especially when he’s been drinking. You and Daniel settle in to listen.

He sneaks away between the maid of honor and the best man, patting the back of your hand and whispering about being right back. He returns a few moments later, another beer and a Shirley Temple in his hands. You smile gratefully at him, and he waves you off. Then the next speech is starting, and you’re rolling your eyes at the way the best man talks about marriage like it’s some awful idea.

“He knows this is a wedding, yeah?” Daniel asks out of the side of his mouth, leaning towards you.

You shrug. “That one started drinking at 9am. I’m not sure he even knows what year it is right now.”

Daniel starts laughing, then. Luckily, the rest of the crowd does too- apparently, the best man has just made an extremely funny joke. Daniel is only looking at you, though, and you can’t help but laugh just because of the look on his face.

When the first dances are over and the music starts, you sink low into your seat. Your boyfriend has still not made an appearance. He definitely knows where you’re sitting, he had told you so earlier. You’re sure he’s busy, but you’d looked away for too long, talking to Daniel, and now he’s disappeared from the head table. You scan the crowd, hoping to see his face. All the while, you can feel Daniel watching you.

“We could go dance,” he suggests.

You sink lower in your seat. “I don’t really like dancing.”

That’s a lie. You love dancing, especially at weddings. You love the cheesy songs they always play, you love the atmosphere, you love watching the bride and groom have fun and getting to be a part of it. But you know how it would look if you went out on the dance floor with Daniel, and your boyfriend definitely won’t be joining you. As frustrated as you may be with your him, you don’t want to cause drama at someone else’s best day of their lives.

“I think I might try and find him,” you say, picking up your drink.

Daniel nods. “Want me to come with you?”

You look around at the rest of the table and find it empty. You shake your head and lean towards him, close enough that you almost knock your foreheads. Nobody’s watching the two of you or trying to listen anyways, but it’s more fun this way.

“He promised he’d find me before dinner,” you whisper conspiratorially. “That obviously didn’t happen. So I’m not bringing you to him as a reward for bad behavior.”

Daniel sits back in his chair and smiles at you, one brow raised. “Atta girl!”

You stand up from your chair and hope he can’t tell that your face has grown hot from that comment alone.

Even if you can’t find your boyfriend, it’s probably best that you get some space from Daniel. Through the last hour or so of your conversation, you’ve been catching yourself leaning towards him and then reminding yourself that you have a boyfriend. It’s just that he’s being so nice, and that you’re feeling so down about the whole thing. He’s comforting, which is fine. But it can’t be more than that.

You find your boyfriend at one of the bars, leaning on the counter and talking loudly with one of the other groomsmen. He’s drunk already- he should really slow down if he wants to last the night. You walk over to him, forcing a soft smile onto your face. You can’t confront him now, not in front of his friend and all the people waiting for drinks.

“Hey, babe,” you say, tapping his shoulder lightly as you walk up.

He turns. You wait for him to smile at you, but it never comes. Your stomach sinks.

“Hey,” he says, nonchalantly. “D’you need something?”

Your palms feel clammy. “Oh, no, I’m good! Just… wanted to say hi. S’been a bit.”

He nods. “Yeah. I told you I’d be busy tonight.”

His friend just stands there and listens. Your skin feels hot, and your eyes begin to sting.

“I know,” you say. “I’m not trying to bug you, I just- I was just walking by. Just. Yeah. That’s all. I’ll leave you to it.”

“I’ll come find you in a bit, baby,” he promises.

You don’t bother believing him this time.

Daniel doesn’t comment on your red eyes or the tear tracks on your cheeks when you return to the table. He just squeezes your arm and disappears for a moment, then comes back with yet another Shirley Temple. You don’t know whether to laugh or to cry, so you just take a sip of the drink instead.

“You don’t have to sit here with me,” you say to Daniel. “I’m definitely pulling down the mood.”

“Are you joking?” He says. “You’re the best thing at this party.”

You laugh, then, because the statement is so ridiculous that you can’t help it. He sounds so serious, and when you turn to look at him there’s no hint of teasing on his face. He just elbows your arm lightly again.

“Come on, we don’t have to dance but we’re not sitting here all night,” he says. “Let’s go wander.”

He stands from the table and tugs at your chair. You give in and stand up too, taking your drink from the table. You follow him as he weaves through the throngs of people. You like wandering. Wandering is a perfectly sensible thing to do with the guy you just met. At the wedding your boyfriend is a groomsman at. What else are you supposed to do, anyways?

He leads you past the dance floor, which you try not to look at forlornly. There are large glass doors at the back of the hall. He swings one open, holding it for you, waving you through with a flourish of his hand. Outside, it’s lit up with string lights. There’s a wide rolling lawn of grass, with fire pits and chairs spread out everywhere. There are lawn games, too- beanbags and horseshoes and a giant version of Jenga.

You can burn a lot of time out here. You barely even notice when Daniel slips his hand around your wrist to gently pull you with him. You should feel guilty about it. Your boyfriend is somewhere inside. But that same boyfriend has also been ignoring you all night. Daniel is just being friendly. You follow him to one of the fire pits with a smile on your face.

You and Daniel are nearly two hours into wandering when someone calls your name. You look up from where you’ve been staring at the beanbag board, trying to line up your throw just right. You’d been on the verge of winning for the first time. For an Australian, Daniel is surprisingly good at American lawn games. Frustratingly good, even.

It’s your boyfriend, calling you from the doorway of the reception hall. You sigh and drop the beanbag onto the ground near your feet. Two of the other groomsmen are hanging off of him, looking worse for the wear. One of them has something down the front of his shirt- you pray it’s not vomit.

“I think that’s my cue,” you say, nodding towards the building.

“You could always put them in a cab and hope they figure it out on their own.” Daniel says. You give him a skeptical look. “Kidding, kidding.”

“It’s tempting,” you admit.

Daniel bends over and picks up your heels from where they lay in the grass. You’d kicked them off as soon as you stepped into the soft grass outside. You slip the shoes back on and wince. Then you stick your hand out to him, palm open.

“Well, it was lovely to meet you,” you say, as he shakes your hand once more. “Thanks for not leaving me all alone.”

Daniel laughs. “I will be your ‘I-know-nobody-at-this-event-‘ partner anytime you want, sweetheart. Just give me a call. I’ll be there.”

You know what he’s trying to do. The opportunity is right there in front of you. He’s telling you to give him a call- this is where you ask for his number. But you have a boyfriend. You can justify hanging out with him, especially considering you had nothing else to do, but asking for his number feels a step too far.

You smile softly and drop his hand. “Goodnight, Daniel.”

You turn and make your way towards your boyfriend. He’s already complaining before you’re even within ten feet of him, about how he’s tired and he looked everywhere for you and how could you disappear like that? You apologize, just to quiet him down. You usher the three men inside before you turn to look at Daniel one more time.

He’s standing there, watching you, a sad smile on his face.

“Who was that guy?” Your boyfriend asks later, from the passenger seat of the car.

You look at him, at his eyes. The light is gone- he’s blacked out, there’s no way he’ll remember this tomorrow.

“Daniel Ricciardo,” you say.

It’s a testament to how drunk he is that he doesn’t even react.

You get all three guys into bed, including your boyfriend. You lay down next to him, as much as you don’t want to. There’s not really anywhere else to sleep in the little hotel room, and you’re not sleeping on the floor. When you close your eyes, you can’t fall asleep, plagued by thoughts of if you’d made the right choice, unable to erase Daniel’s sad smile from your memory.

…..

You love weddings. You remind yourself of that over and over again as you pin a dress in place for the hundredth time that day. Your best friend Natalie is a bridesmaid, it’s her sister who’s getting married, and you’re here to help in any way you can. So far, that’s included safety pinning, making a run for alcohol, checking on the floral delivery, checking to make sure the groomsmen are where they’re supposed to be, and comforting a bridesmaid who was crying in the bathroom. Her boyfriend had broken up with her the night before.

“Men are shit,” you’d told her in commiseration.

By the time the ceremony rolls around, you’re relieved to have a chance to sit down. You check on the bridesmaids one last time and head into the church. The pews are packed with people, so you find a spot near the back and sit down. You sigh in relief.

The music starts playing, and you finally take a chance to look around. The pews are decorated with flowers, there’s bright light streaming through the large windows. The groom waits up front, eyes already watering. You love weddings. You say it like a mantra in your head.

As the procession starts, you scan the crowd. You know more people at this wedding, having been friends with the family for a while. You’ll at least have some company at your table. You spot a couple friends from high school, a cousin you’ve met a few times, some mutual friends who you’ll definitely have to catch up with later. And then, in the third row on the groom’s side, you see dark curly hair that looks terrifyingly familiar.

It can’t be him. That would be absolutely insane. There’s absolutely no way Daniel Ricciardo is attending a second wedding in the US, for a couple who are no more famous than the previous wedding you’d seen him at. It would make absolutely no sense. And yet, you can’t stop staring at the back of this man’s head, the slope of his shoulders beneath his dark suit. You remember that wedding, months ago, resting your hand on his shoulder for balance as you took off your heels. He’d joked about having to cut you off, holding your Shirley Temple in his hand.

When the bridal procession begins playing, everyone stands. You keep your eyes on him. He turns, and your heart skips a beat in your chest. It’s Daniel. It’s impossible, it’s irrational, but it is him. You’d recognize him anywhere.

You force yourself to look away, to turn towards the bride. She looks beautiful, perfect, the picture of elegance. The flowers in her hands, the ones you’d checked on that morning, are perfect too. You breathe a sigh of relief. She really should’ve hired a wedding coordinator. Maybe you should be a wedding coordinator.

When you go to sit back down, you sneak a glance at Daniel. He’s looking over his shoulder at you, eyes wide. You meet his gaze and your cheeks feel hot. That wide, bright grin breaks out across his face. You grin right back.

When the ceremony is over, and they’re officially Mr and Mrs, the whole wedding disperses out onto the lawn of the church. There are shuttles to take you to the reception, but everyone seems content to mingle outside in the fresh air. You’re one of the first ones out, but you’re quickly swept up in the crowd. You search for Daniel in every face that passes. You find Natalie first, though.

“Nat,” you say frantically. “Does your sister know Daniel Ricciardo?”

Her brow furrowed for a second. “What?”

“Danny Ricciardo,” you repeat, keeping your voice low. “The F1 driver. He’s here.”

“Oh,” Natalie says, brows raising. “Yeah, he’s like, friends with her fiancé- oh, her husband! Shit, I forgot that you watch that stuff- or, you… did? I can probably try and introduce you-“

“No, we- we’ve met.” You admit. She’s the first person you’re telling about this. “At that wedding like 6 months ago.”

She tilts her head at you. Her eyes go wide. She says your name in a bewildered tone.

“Are you telling me that the mystery wedding man, who you definitely should’ve dumped your boyfriend for, was fucking Danny Ricciardo?”

“Keep it down!” You shush her.

“Oh my god,” she says, a conspiratorial smirk crossing over her face. “And he’s here.”

Someone calls your name. You know that voice- it’s haunted you since you left that wedding. You turn over your shoulder as Natalie grabs your wrist and lets out a squeak.

“Danny,” you breathe, like a sigh of relief. “Hi.”

He strides up to you, handsome as ever, grinning so widely it looks like it hurts. “This is fucking insane.”

An elderly aunt glares at him. He makes an apologetic face before turning back to you and shrugging. He steps into your space, so close you can smell his cologne. He’s staring down at you through his lashes. The look in his eyes is so soft and warm that you think you’re melting.

“The bride is my best friend’s sister,” you explain, gesturing at Natalie. “This is Natalie.”

“I’m friends with the groom,” he says, reaches his hand out and shakes Natalie’s hand. “I’m Danny, nice to meet you.”

She nods, and suddenly you’re very afraid. Natalie doesn’t have much of a filter, especially in high pressure situations. Especially when she’s been forced to be prim and proper all morning.

“You must really like American weddings,” she says, and you wince. “I hear this is your second one in 6 months.”

Daniel smirks, raises his eyebrows at you. “Huh. Wonder what else you’ve heard about me.”

She opens her mouth to say something, but you shove her shoulder. “Nat, aren’t you supposed to be taking family pictures?”

She’s so busy staring at Daniel she almost doesn’t hear you. Then her eyes go wide. She swears loudly, earning a glare from the same aunt. Then she drops your wrist and takes off through the crowd.

You turn towards Daniel. “Sorry about her.”

He shakes his head. “No need. She seems sweet.”

You smile. “She is.”

“Makes sense, since she’s friends with you,” he says. “The sweetest of them all.”

You laugh, shove at his shoulder lightly. “Shut up.”

Behind him, people are starting to get on the shuttles. He’s leaning towards you, eyes still lit up.

“I honestly can’t believe this,” he says.

“Neither can I,” you admit. “It’s.. it’s really good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you,” he echoes. “Feels like a sign, doesn’t it?”

You open your mouth to agree, to tell him what you’ve been thinking the past 6 months, but Natalie is calling your name. You and Daniel both turn to look at her, and the look on her face tells you she’s so sorry. You sigh and shrug.

“I have to go,” you tell him. “That bridal party is a mess.”

“Worse than the last one?” He asks.

“No,” you say. “And I don’t have to drive any of them home, so that’s a bonus. But I think I’ll be billing them for wedding coordinator expenses after this. Or at the very least, drinking enough at the open bar to make up for it.”

Daniel laughs. “Atta girl. Should I save you a seat on the shuttle?”

You let out a puff of air. “I’m riding over with the bridal party.”

His face falls in disappointment. “Okay. Find me when you get there, yeah? I’ll have a Shirley Temple waiting for you.”

You nod. “Make it a Dirty Shirley, would you?”

He nods eagerly and squeezes your arm.

You don’t actually make it into the reception until nearly an hour later. There’s an emergency with a groomsman’s tux, and the girl who was broken up with the night before is crying again. Nothing that can’t be fixed with safety pins and tequila, but it still takes time. You check your name on the seating chart, sigh at the sight of the name next to yours, the seat that will stay empty. You find Daniel’s seat, too, a few tables over from yours. You head there first.

Daniel is sitting, a beer in hand and a very watery Shirley Temple on the table in front of him. He’s chatting with the man sitting next to him, who looks a bit starstruck. He perks up when he sees you, reaching for your drink. You take it happily and have a sip, tasting ginger ale, grenadine, and vodka, too.

“The ice is a bit melted,” he says with a sigh. “But good news! Ian here has offered to switch seats with you.”

Ian is looking between you and Daniel, eyes wide. You’re sure he did offer, likely after Daniel had told him the whole crazy story, or at least enough to convince him. You watched him charm bartenders at the last wedding- he has a way with words. Ian starts to stand up.

“That’s really not necessary.” You say, and Daniel’s face falls. “There’s an empty seat at my table.”

He lifts his brows, grinning again. His brown eyes stare deep into your own. He stands up without waiting another moment, handing you your drink and holding his own.

“Ian, nice meeting you,” he says. “I’ll still get you those paddock passes,” he promises, and you bite back a laugh. “See ya ‘round, mate.”

He follows you to your table. There’s a setting with your name on a little card, and the empty setting next to it with another name on it. You grab that card and crumple it in your hand, shoving it into your purse. He quirks a brow but sits down anyways as you greet the others at your table- cousins of the bride and friends who you’ve met a few times.

“So. How’ve things been?” You ask, and he launches into a story that has you listening with every bone in your body.

Somehow, the two of you make it all the way through dinner and speeches and the first dance before the subject of your boyfriend even comes up. You wonder if he’s been waiting to broach it. You’ve been waiting for the right moment.

He nods towards the dance floor. “You have to promise me you’ll dance to at least one song tonight.”

You blink and shrug. “Easy. I love dancing.”

He stares at you. There’s the beginnings of another wide grin on his face.

“That is not what you said last time.”

“I lied,” you admit. “Because my boyfriend hated dancing.”

Daniel nods. “Hated. Past tense?”

“He’s not dead,” you deadpan, making him laugh. “But he’s also not my boyfriend anymore.”

Daniel’s foot nudges against yours under the table. “No?”

“No,” you say with a shrug.

Daniel nods. “Pretty girl like you, you must’ve moved on pretty quick,” he says.

His tone is light, teasing. He’s testing the waters. You shake your head and pretend you don’t see the way his shoulders sag in relief.

“I’ve sworn off dating,” you tell him. Your tone is teasing, too. “After he left me on my own at a wedding, I decided men are shit.”

You’re taunting him now. The conversation has gone from feeling each other out, from digging for information, to circling each other like sharks in the water. Your heart is beating steady in your chest. His eyes are locked on yours.

“You poor thing,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Let me prove you wrong?”

The tension crackles in the air. His knee nudges against yours and you swear you’re going to combust. You down the rest of your drink in one gulp, set the glass down, and reach for his suit jacket. You run your finger down the lapel, then back up, adjusting his collar.

“I swore off men,” you repeat, leaning forwards, keeping your voice low. “But this feels like a sign, doesn’t it? Like the universe sent me back to you.”

He nods. He reaches up, captures your wrist in his hand and holds it against his chest.

“So maybe you should go get me another drink,” you suggest. “And I’ll meet you on the dance floor.”

You lean even closer, then, close enough to press your lips to his cheek. Then you stand up and walk away towards where people are beginning to gather, to where the music is loudest. You don’t turn back to see if he’s watching. You already know he is.

…..

You have a fleeting thought, later, that maybe you should’ve switched to a drink with less sugar in it at some point in the night. The grenadine feels like it’s stuck to your tongue. Danny doesn’t seem to mind the taste, though.

He’s got you up against the wall in a back hallway of the reception venue. You back is pressed to the cool surface, your arms around his neck, his hands on your hips. His lips are on yours, and he’s kissing you deeply, like he’ll never get enough. You’re feeling the same.

His knee slots between your legs, and you’re a goner. His hand slips from your hip and cups your ass, hauling you closer with ease, tilting your hips away from the wall and into his. You break away for air, gasping for it, and he moves his lips to your neck. It feels heavenly, trapped between him and the wall, his hands all over you, his lips trailing lower and lower. He reaches up and brushes the thin strap of your dress off one of your shoulders. You shove your hands under his suit jacket and press them against his toned abdomen through his shirt. He lets out a groan, the noise vibrating against your neck. You throw your head back and laugh between gasps.

You wonder if he’d have his way with you right there. You wonder if you’d let him.

There are footsteps, then, clicking their way down the hall. You scramble to push him away as someone rounds the corner, but you know it’s painfully obvious. You turn your head, already feeling mortified, and come face to face with Natalie.

“Oh, thank god,” both you and your best friend say at the same time.

Daniel pulls away and looks between the two of you. You can’t look at him for more than a few seconds. His lips are red and puffy, his eyes half lidded. You distantly wonder if there’s beard burn on your face, if your lips are just as red. Then you start to wonder how his scruff might feel on other parts of you.

“I didn’t know where you’d gone,” Natalie says, laughing. “I heard noises, I thought…”

“I’m fine,” you tell her, and she nods in agreement.

“I’ll say,” she teases.

“Nat!” You hiss.

“You’d better take good care of her, Ricciardo,” he says, and your face grows hot all over again. “I don’t care how famous you are, I’ll fuck you up anyways.”

“Nat!” You hiss again.

“I will,” Danny promises, squeezing your hip and nodding. “I’m on a mission. Trying to prove not all men are shit.”

“Good luck,” Natalie says drily. But when she walks away, she’s smiling.

He turns back to you, and this time he places both his hands on the wall on either side of your head. You look up at him, licking your lips. You still taste the Shirley Temple, and you can taste him, too, now. He groans softly and closes his eyes. It’s nice to know you’re having an effect on him, too, nice to know you’re not the only one feeling worked up. You reach up and tug on the lapels of his jacket. You brush your lips against his jaw.

“We should have one more drink,” you tell him, humming happily. “And then you should take me to your hotel.”

He swallows. You press a kiss to the center of his throat.

“I’ve never heard a better plan in my whole life.” He says.

…..

At every wedding you go to afterwards, you order the same drink. Well, really, Danny orders them for you. You’ve thought a couple times about asking for wine or seltzer or even beer. You think it might break his heart, though. It’s a tradition now, and the pink sugary concoction will always taste like that very first night. Like bare feet in the grass, the thud of beanbags against wooden boards. Like Daniel’s laugh in the middle of the best man’s speech. Like you, alone at a table, and Daniel collapsing into the seat next to you, his hand extended to shake yours.

The same hand that’s wrapped up with yours now, resting on his knee. You never want to let go. You’re pretty sure he’d be okay with that.

Taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams

#daniel riccardo x reader #Danny Ricciardo x reader #Daniel Ricciardo x you #Danny Ricciardo x you #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #honeywrites #formula 1 fanfic

2K notes · View notes

folkwhoredoll · 3 months

Text

yacht escapades - rafe cameron x fem!reader

pairing: rafe cameron x fem!reader

synopsis: sneaking away with your boyfriend leads to a salacious session under the moonlight

word count: 2k

warnings/tags: smut! (unprotected sex, f and m oral, fingering, brief cockwarming), sweet boyfriend!rafe

a/n: hi everyone! thank you so so much for everyone's support on my recent works. seeing all your hearts and reblogs always makes my day :3 i've always wanted to write a smutfic for rafe so here it is. i hope you'll like this one. happy reading!

masterlist

⍣ ೋ˚

“Relax, baby. This is literally my family’s yacht. Technically, it’s mine too so don’t worry.” Rafe assured you for the hundredth time, rotating the helm of the boat to move farther away from the dock.

Your boyfriend has always been unpredictable, so when he slowly woke you up half an hour ago because he couldn’t sleep, you had no idea that you two would end up sneaking away his parents’ yacht at three in the morning. A part of you was nervous, knowing that Ward tends to get pissed over the littlest things that Rafe did. But another voice was lulling you to just enjoy the night breeze.

“I know, I know. But what if—” You blabbed.

“Stop, sweetheart. We won’t even go that far.”

You sighed, walking over behind Rafe to wrap your arms around his waist while he continued to maneuver the boat far enough to isolate the two of you from the island.

“See? Isn’t this nice?” He smiled proudly, holding your hand to take you to the couch, easily pulling you to his lap.

Your breathing was quiet, hands firm on top of Rafe’s wrapped arms on your waist. He was occasionally giving you some soft kisses on the forehead and cheeks when you broke the silence. “So how exactly is this going to help you sleep?”

“It probably won’t.” He answered bluntly.

You chuckled, watching over the soft ripples on the surface of the lake.

You were on the verge of falling asleep on Rafe’s lap when you felt one of his hands move from your waist to your right thigh, thumb softly rubbing the skin. You didn’t think much of it and let out a small yawn, but he moved his hand further up, making you roll your eyes.

“Hey.”

“What?” Rafe replied innocently, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your neck.

“I know what you’re doing.” You huffed. Sitting up straight but still not leaving his lap. “Did you just bring me here for sex?”

Rafe let out a fake gasp, but his eyes shone with mischief. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know, we could’ve just done it in your bedroom.”

“Where’s the thrill in that?”

“So you admit! You just want sex.” You raised your brow.

“Well, yes and no. I really couldn’t sleep but now you just look so pretty and we’re all alone here.” He said, tugging the bottom of your shirt.

You groaned, not that you were annoyed with him. You’re annoyed with yourself for liking the idea. It is no secret that you and Rafe have always been sexually active, always trying out new things that one of you may be curious about. Your sex drive matches with his, and it is one of the things that you two love about each other. So the thought of giving yourself to your boyfriend in the middle of the night underneath the stars tempted you so much. And you shamelessly fell for it.

You looked down at his groin, already noticing the bulge through his khaki shorts despite the slight darkness. You pressed your hands against him and gave it a hard squeeze, surprising Rafe.

“Fuck, baby.” He gasped, hips raising upwards slightly.

“You want me, Rafey?” You whispered, giving him the most innocent look you can muster. But Rafe can see right through you, knowing that your question was all he needed as a signal to make a move.

Rafe didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed the back of your neck and pulled your face towards him, kissing you roughly. His tongue glided over your lower lip, making you open your mouth to let him in. Without breaking contact, you fully turned your body to face his, grinding slightly while tangling your fingers in his hair.

He put both of his hands on your hips, heavy breaths occasionally leaving his lips but never breaking the kiss. It was you who pulled away first after a while, gasping for air but wasting no time unbuttoning his shorts.

“Eager, are we?” He smirked, lips red from kissing you.

“Shut up.” You replied, hurrying to pull out his huge manhood as you positioned yourself from his lap to kneel on the floor.

“Go ahead, baby. Suck my cock off like a good girl.” He cooed, stroking the top of your head.

You gave him a sweet smile before giving his tip a lick, making sure to never break eye contact. Rafe threw his head back, whispering a curse under his breath. You grinned at his reaction, ego growing higher as you wrapped your lips around his head.

Rafe almost thanked the sky above for your mouth. He has always been proud of having you. A smart, rich, and polite girl; a literal angel, as others have said. But they don’t know what kind of a freak you are behind those innocent dresses and wide eyes. None of them know except Rafe, and he intends to keep it that way.

You kept sucking him off, pushing yourself to take in as much as you can even as tears brimmed your eyes. You wrapped your slender fingers around the area that you couldn’t take, loving the way he tasted.

Rafe’s head was pulled backward, his chest rising and falling heavily while he muttered praises and curses. He was on the verge of his release when he suddenly put both of his hands on your shoulder.

“No, I want to cum in your pussy.” He panted, pulling you up by the arms. He gently pushed you against the couch so that you were now the one sitting. He stood up and hurriedly removed his clothes, your eyes in awe while watching him. “Like what you see, baby?”

You grinned, pulling your shirt upwards, and expertly removed the clasp of your bra. Rafe’s eyes were trained on your breasts as soon as you freed them, but he wasted no time removing your shorts and panties at the same time.

“Fuck. There’s my pretty pussy.” His eyes were steadily trained on your cunt as he leaned down at eye level. It was as if he was hypnotized as he brought one hand to your folds, gliding his forefinger up and down. He smirked when he noticed the thin sheer wetness in the middle.

“Rafey…” You whined.

“What is it, sweetheart?”

“Fuck me already.”

“You’re a bossy girl, aren’t you?” Rafe chuckled amusedly. “Patience, darling. ‘Gotta prepare you nicely first.”

He continued to tease you, never touching your clit or pushing a finger inside of you. With each moment that you grow irritated, the wetness of your womanhood increases. When Rafe sensed that you were about to curse him off, he suddenly inserted two fingers in, making you gasp.

“Shit.” You breathed, soft moans leaving your lips as he curled his fingers before pumping faster.

Rafe placed his thumb on your clit, making you squeal in both surprise and pleasure. You swore you almost saw stars when he did so, one hand reaching downwards in an attempt to grab onto the couch for support while the other reached for his wrist.

He ticked his tongue at the action, using his free hand to pull your hand away.

Rafe lowered his head until your legs were leveled with his face, inhaling your scent while still fingering you. He brought his lips closer until you could feel his breath near your folds, making you shiver.

“Rafe, please fuck me… fuck.” You pleaded.

“I will, darling. But I have to taste this pussy first.” Without warning, he removed his thumb from your clit, replacing it with his lips. You screamed at the contact, suddenly thankful that no one could hear you.

Rafe continued to play with your clit, tugging the small nub with his teeth while pushing his tongue inside you. You were almost crying from pleasure, the overwhelming feeling of your boyfriend’s mouth and fingers in the same area was almost too much.

You were loudly moaning his name, hips lifting on their own as you pushed yourself closer to Rafe’s mouth. Your boyfriend grinned against you, his pride increasing with the knowledge that only he can make you feel this way.

You almost screamed in frustration when Rafe abruptly pulled away, licking his lips to savor your juices. “Ready, baby?”

“Yes, Rafe, fuck me please.”

“Always so polite.” He snickered, loving the way that your eyes turned hazy from all the pleasure. “Who am I to turn down my baby’s request, hm?”

With a swift move, Rafe quickly positioned his cock to align with your cunt before pushing himself in with one go. You gasp at the intrusion, shock, and ecstasy filling your body. Having sex with Rafe so many times has made you familiar with his size, but you still weren’t prepared for the amount of stretching that your womanhood would have to make to accommodate him.

He wasted no time and began thrusting, slowly at first to let you adjust.

“Shit. Your cunt is hugging me perfectly.” He gasped, building up his tempo.

You were too speechless to reply, the only thing that you could do was moan and grab his chest. Rafe placed one hand on your hip, and the other grabbed both your wrists to pull your hands above your head.

Sweats, gasps, and whines were the only sounds heard. Rafe’s hips collided with yours with strength, making you scream out his name. He admired the beads of sweat on your forehead, your skin illuminated by the moonlight. He always believed that you were the prettiest girl on this planet. And seeing you at this moment, naked and dewy with your face twisted in enjoyment, he knew he was right.

“Come on, darling. Give it to me.” He praised, knowing that you were close with how tightly you were squeezing him.

You mumbled his name over and over again, legs shaking as you wrapped them around his hips to pull him closer. Rafe cursed after seeing your action, thrusting harder and faster to chase both of your highs.

You were a crying mess underneath him, pleasure surging through all parts of your body. You opened your eyes slightly, admiring Rafe’s face before feeling the pressure on your lower abdomen.

“Fuck, Rafe. I’m gonna cum.”

“Go ahead, sweet girl. Cum for me. I want to feel you around my cock.” He urged, never breaking the pattern of his thrusts.

You screamed after a few more pushes, your vision blurring slightly as you squirted around him. Rafe came after you, gasping as he felt his warm liquid mix with your own inside your pussy.

You two were panting against each other, Rafe still inside you as he caught his breath. “You alright?” He asked, pushing a strand of hair away from your face.

You couldn’t reply, still breathing heavily but nodded instead. Rafe started to slowly pull out of you, making you whine.

“No, Rafey. Stay.” You pouted.

He smiled sweetly, lifting you so that he could sit on the couch without separating from you.

The two of you lay there, soft breaths coming out of your mouths while Rafe hugged you against his chest as you keep him warm in your cunt.

“Tired, baby?” He asked you after a while, noticing your droopy eyes.

You nodded, feeling warm against his body despite being exposed to cool air.

“Get some rest. I’ll be here when you wake up.” Rafe whispered, kissing you softly on the forehead.

Before closing your eyes, you vowed to sneak out with his yacht more open.

#rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x smut #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron x reader smut

2K notes · View notes

atticrissfinch · 6 months

Text

In the Next Room | (joel miller x fem!reader) (oneshot) (18+)

Masterlist | Ko-fi pairing: neighbor’s fuckbuddy!joel miller x fem!reader summary: When the peace and quiet of your apartment is disturbed by the noisy escapades of the couple in the neighboring unit, you find yourself entranced by the mystery man on the other side of the wall. And when you stumble upon him on a dating app…well, it might just be fate. warnings/tags: [18+ MINORS DNI] no!outbreak, age gap (Joel is 48, reader is under 29), v mild dom!joel, slight voyeurism, joel just straight slutting and whoring it up but…like…in a charming way, masturbation (f), daddy!kink, a looootta size!kink, dirty talk, a liiittle bit of sexting, one (1) swat to the ass, minor degradation!kink, praise!kink, spitting, fingering, oral (m & f receiving), mild deepthroating, irresponsible unprotected piv, creampie, brief cockwarming, Joel Miller: DILF Extraordinaire even without a kid at home, a teensy weensy bit of ddlg-esque infantilization but nothing extreme, joel and reader just being feral and adorable w each other and having a jolly good ol’ time, reader has hair and is lifted onto a counter sry. word count: ~11.5K | ao3 a/n: I was chatting with daddy chloe @chloeangelic and she mentioned she knew someone who found out her fuckbuddy was also fucking her neighbor and I said…hold on. Huge idea. So this lovely fic was born. I really love these two and I did not expect it to be this fun and cute and sexy, so I hope you enjoy! title is from In the Next Room by Neon Trees, which I highly recommend you give a listen to. s/o to @saradika for the gorgeous divider ♥️

Taglist Update: This will be my last time using my taglist! For future updates people follow @atticrissfinchupdates 💖

If you only knew

How hard it is to handle

How bad I want this scandal

Oh, I lose control

When I hear your body move

Through the walls in the next room

One thing you’ve really come to appreciate about your new apartment is how quiet your neighbors are. You’ve only been here for about 3 months, but in comparison to your last apartment, the noise level might as well be nonexistent. No persnickety old lady raising hell over the dodgy as fuck elevator by the stairs, no screaming three-year-old behind the door across the hall, no meathead grunting out his squats at 5 AM in the neighboring unit. Just a mild-mannered elderly couple across the way and a cute, perky woman, probably in her 30s, in the apartment to your left. It’s been a silent paradise so far, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

Until tonight.

It started off with tampered whimpers, then what sounded like moaned “oh, fuck”s, and finally graduated to a thumping bedframe and a woman screaming. Your next-door neighbor, you gather pretty quickly. And not just wordless screams, very colorful screams.

“Fuck, baby!”

“Oh, shit, Joel! So fucking big!”

“I can’t! Too fucking big, please!”

The headboard on the other side of the drywall knock-knock-knocks against your shared wall where your own headboard stands pathetically dormant in contrast.

You hear an unintelligible response to her cries in the cadence of a deep, rumbling voice. You’re a sucker for a deep voice, you always have been, and it sounds like the girl next door is having exactly the kind of night you wish you were having.

“No, fuck, don’t stop! Just so fucking big, Joel!”

The voice rumbles again with a silky lilt to it, and for some unknown reason, you find your eyes drifting closed and your mind filling in the gaps you can’t quite hear.

I know it’s big, baby, but you can take it.

Such a good girl for me.

Feel so tight around this fat cock, baby.

Without even having put thought into it, you discover your hand has snaked its way under your panties and is already massaging circles around your clit. Your mouth drops open in a gasp when you slick up your fingers with the evidence of your arousal and you get the rhythm just right against the bundle of nerves pulsing between your legs.

You thrust up into your hand to the tempo of the headboard crashing into the wall, straining your ear to try and catch even the faintest glimpse of the actual words the man is feeding to her as he pounds her into the mattress.

You’re blessed when his voice raises for a single phrase, a passionate aggression behind his words.

“Yeah, fuckin’ take it for me .”

The words have you bucking into your hand, a moan crackling in your throat, and your fingers picking up speed. Your ears take it upon themselves to filter out the shrieking voice of your neighbor and solely hone in on the husky tones of the man. You imagine he’s older, large and imposing, with hands that dwarf yours as his fingers slip in the spaces between your own and restrain them above your head as his huge cock wreaks havoc on your insides.

It’s been months since you've been laid, months since you’ve even had a single viable candidate in this new city. It’s not a stretch to claim that you’re fucking desperate, hence your hand taking residence in your underwear and getting off to the auditory scraps granted to you by this mystery man.

The woman’s voice breaks through your selective hearing barrier.

“Fuck, I’m coming, Joel!”

And he bestows his heightened voice on you once more as he replies.

“I know, sweet girl, I know. I’m so fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want it? ”

You shut out the woman’s voice again in favor of embarrassingly whimpering out loud to your empty room, “Inside, please, daddy.”

You hear a guttural grunt, and you picture your faceless man’s hips stuttering into you as he fills you up with all he has to give you. You gasp as your orgasm floods through you, shooting warmth through your limbs and sparks through your brain as your hand slows to a stop. You pant as you feel the faint pulsing of your clit under your fingertips, and both the couple and the furniture in the next room fall silent.

Your unsoiled hand reaches up to cover your face, dragging down it as you come to terms with what you just did.

Fuck, you need to get laid.

–

You’ve been rotting in bed all morning, taking full advantage of your peaceful Saturday with no obligations. You scroll mindlessly on your phone as a notification pops up indicating that a package you were expecting was dropped off at your door. You groan, relishing the precious moments in your soft fortress of sheets, and roll lethargically out of bed. You throw on a pair of leggings to cover your bottom half and straighten your mussed camisole to ensure all nipples are accounted for within the confines of the fabric from a night of tossing and turning. You perform a solid full-body stretch, feeling your joints pop faintly and pleasantly as you pad to your front door.

As you pull it open, you bend over to grab the small box, just as the door to your left swings open. You swivel your head to see a man, a large, older man, stepping out the door and pulling it shut behind him. As you snap upright, the man startles, a hand flying over his heart in surprise.

“Jesus, you scared me,” He drawls with a small grin gracing his scruffy–fuck, beautiful –face.

After a few moments, you realize that you’re just fucking gawking at him. “I’m so sorry! Didn’t mean to!”

He chuckles, a gorgeous little sound from plush lips, and gives a courteous shake of his head. “All good. Hope you got somethin’ excitin’ there.”

You blink, a quizzical look on your face before you process what he said. “Oh! The package. Not really, just a new milk frother. Gotta have those homemade lattes, you know?” You say with a short laugh, cringing internally at how awkward you’ve suddenly become around this man. Are you really this out of practice with flirting? Not even flirting, just human interaction itself?

The man shrugs, his smile still in place. “More of a black coffee man, myself.”

“Bold,” You attempt to tease, nodding your head. “Need all the energy you can get after a night like that, I suppose,” You say a bit boldly yourself, gesturing to the door he just came out of.

His eyes widen a little, a pale flush entering his cheeks as he gives an uncomfortable cough into his fist. “Uh, ‘s-’scuse me?”

Your eyes widen in response when your brain catches up with what your mouth just ran away with. “Fuck. I’m sorry. I just, uh…had a bit of a front-row…ear to your activities last night. Walls are a little thin,” You clench your teeth in a show of shared embarrassment, jabbing your thumb over your shoulder toward your own apartment.

The blush intensifies on his cheeks as he gives an uncomfortable laugh, scratching the back of his neck. “Shit. I, uh, I’m sorry about that. We, uh, we’re usually over at my place, but I found a termite infestation in my house, and it’s being tented right now, and I’m stuck over at my brother’s place, and…I don’t know why I’m tellin’ a complete stranger all my business, but. Anyway, we’re usually over at mine. I’m sorry for the, uh, ruckus,” He rambles, burying his largelargelarge hands into his jean pockets and rocking on his heels. “We’ll be back at mine next time, so. Won’t happen again.”

You nod, only half hearing what he’s rambling about as your concentration is taken out at the knees the more you hear him speak, the more his voice washes over you like a cool splash of water, the more your brain sees fit to supply you with a plethora of disgusting things that voice could divulge to you that you didn’t conjure up last night, this time with his voice in crystal clear high definition and not muffled by anything other than possibly your hair or your skin or your lips on his mouth.

The throbbing between your thighs has your confidence climbing, elevated by your attraction to this complete stranger as he’d referred to you. “Sure sounded like you gave her a good time in there.”

“I-I don’t know about all that,” He laughs awkwardly again, the blush bleeding down his neck.

“I mean, she sure had a lot to say about, uh, what you had to offer,” You babble, feeling your cheeks heat up, but unable to shut yourself up. “Sounds like she was struggling a bit.”

The man’s eyes dodge yours with a fervent dedication, flustering his words as he excuses the accusations. “Nah, she uh…she…she was just talkin' up my ego. You know how it is,” He stammers.

“I don’t know, must be a pretty good actress from what I heard. I’ve never been able to fake it that hard. Sounded pretty real to me…Joel, is it? Did I hear that right?”

“Damn, I, uh, yeah. Yes. Joel. Miller,” He introduces himself stiltedly, holding out a hand and then staring at it like he’s shouting in his head, what the fuck are you doing?

You take his hand for a single shake, gifting him your own name in return. His handshake, though short, is sturdy, mildly calloused against the back of your palm, like he works with his hands. As your mind digs its claws into you with ideas of what exactly he could do with those hands, they fall away from each other, and you occupy the absence by gripping the frame of your doorway.

“Well, uh, it was nice meetin’ you. I-I promise we won’t disturb your peace again,” He says with a resolute nod.

“No biggie,” You reply, doing your best to sound casual and, if you’re honest, not discourage him from putting on another show for you to get off to.

He gives one more jerky nod and heads for the elevator, rubbing his flushed neck as he goes. You grab your package and scurry into your apartment, shutting the door firmly behind you and drooping back against it.

Stupid stupid stupid.

Hot hot hot.

Fuck.

–

That evening, the solution to your growing problem seems relatively obvious as you mull over your actions from last night and this morning. Your need to have the shit fucked out of you is reaching a fever pitch, and the easiest, most logical conclusion is to dust off the dating apps burning a hole through your phone.

So you settle in against your pillows with a large glass of rosé and open up an app.

You won’t lie, things are looking pretty bleak.

You must swipe past thirty mediocre men, only doling out one or two right-swipes among the lefts.

And then you feel your stomach swoop.

You know that face. Time could jettison you forward forty years into the future and you would still know that face. The way it blossomed with red at your comments, the way thick fingers scratched at the scruff adorning it, the way the lines by his eyes crinkled in bashfulness.

And then there’s his name, locking your suspicions in concrete.

Joel. Age 48. 7 Miles away.

Bio: Just a simple guy, looking for fun, but we’ll see how things go.

You scroll through his photos, a random selection of snippets from his life. One with a beer in his hand at the beach, his toes in the sand. Another with his face shaded by a ball cap, squinting at the photographer to his left as he sits with a fishing pole cast into a lake. His arm around a man roughly the same height and age range, some shared facial features, matching smiles–a brother, maybe. A suggestive selfie in his bed, sheets tucked below his pecs, eyes bleary with sleep accompanied by a soft smile and messy curls.

Easiest swipe right of your life.

Another pang alights in your stomach when you’re instantly met with the little “matching” animation, clinking your two profile pictures together with a heart.

Your tongue darts across your lips as you sit up straighter, wine sloshing in your glass until you steady it with another sip. Your standard protocol is to wait for the guy to message first, but your eagerness gets the better of you. You don’t even wait a few minutes to be coy, you just go full-send.

You: Fancy seeing you on here…

Fully expecting to wait a minute for a response, you take a deep breath and burrow into your pillows again. But you get a notification almost instantly.

Joel: I was thinking the same thing… Joel: Feels somethin like kismet, or whatever they call it

A smile breaks against your cheeks, and you bite into your knuckle to stop yourself from just straight-up squealing.

You: They do call it that, from what I hear 🤭

This time he doesn’t respond immediately, and your teeth begin to tug at your lower lip as you watch the stagnant chat thread.

And then a possible reality smacks you in the face.

What if this man is taken? What if your neighbor is his girlfriend and he’s still creeping for girls on dating apps?

The fluttering in your stomach starts to take a sour turn, worrying your lip further as you await his reply. What if they’re together right now, and he can only respond when she’s distracted?

Another message pops up.

Joel: A little like kismet that we met in the hallway i’d say too. Same place, same time and all

You take a breath and decide to just cut through the bullshit as early as possible before your thoughts truly run away from you.

You: Speaking of. I’m gonna be honest. If that’s your girlfriend that lives next to me, I’m gonna have to enact Girl Code and let her know I saw you on here. Because that shit is not cool.

You send it before you can talk yourself out of it, and close out of the app as soon as it’s out of your hands. You down what remains of your wine and place the empty glass on your nightstand, but your attention springs back to your phone as it buzzes again. You brace yourself for his panic or defense and open the message.

Joel: lol well you can put down your pitchfork and reshelve the sacred “Girl Code”. Trish and I are strictly casual. By her own insistence matter a fact. You can ask her if you don’t believe me

You sigh a breath of relief and tap out a response.

You: Really? You: Guess I just have a hard time believing that any woman could turn down that face

He responds immediately again.

Joel: Well now you got me blushin again. Thank you darlin

You: At least I can rule you out as “stupid enough to cheat on your gf by trolling dating apps with your full face on display”

Joel: Haha no ma’am. I’m an honest man. Only cheat at Go Fish and Yahtzee and it’s been an age since I cast my hand at either.

You: Well now I know what to watch out for 😜

You stretch your legs out under your sheets, feeling giddy that the banter is coming so easily after your awkward conversation earlier today.

You: How’s the whole tenting situation going?

Joel: Got back in this morning. House successfully fumigated. Termite threat hopefully neutralized. Fingers crossed.

You: Lucky Trish

You nibble on the side of your thumb as you wistfully beg him to take the bait.

He does.

Joel: Could be your luck too… Joel: If you want

You suddenly very much regret consuming half a bottle of rosé.

You could invite him over here, but that would be especially cruel. Unequivocally against Girl Code to fuck the man you literally met because your neighbor is also fucking him in the apartment next to you, in the apartment next to her the very next night. That’s some twisted, reverse Uno shit, and you have no desire to tempt fate or karma with that nonsense.

You: Unfortunately I’m a little intoxicated right now. And I don’t want to invoke the wrath of an otherwise peaceful neighbor by stealing her fuck buddy from right under her nose and then rubbing said nose in it by making her listen lol

At severe risk of coming off as uninterested, you quickly follow up.

You: Maybe tomorrow? I’m free all day. Would love to see what all the fuss was about last night.

He surprises you, his next response coming in the form of a short voice memo. You practically tangle your fingers into knots in your effort to smash Play.

That dripping, syrupy Southern drawl echoes out of your phone speaker.

“That’s a real shame, darlin’. But I’m free all day too. I’d love to show you…what was it you said? What I ‘have to offer’?”

The message cuts off just after a delicious little chuckle, and you stare daggers at your wine glass. Fucking bullshit little cockblocker.

You decide it’s only fitting to respond with a memo of your own, dipping your voice a little lower, more sultry to the best of your ability.

“I think I’d love that. I could come over at noon. You could have me for lunch.”

Before you can second-guess, the memo slips from your fingers and straight to Joel’s phone.

Joel: Damn. Joel: I’ll put on my bib. Got a feeling i’m gonna need it.

Your cheeks heat at the insinuation, and you sneak a hand underneath your panties to assess whether he’s right.

And, fuck, he is. You’re practically swimming in your own arousal at the mere thought of Joel being a live outlet for your pent-up sexual energy. You moan as your fingers graze your clit, but you pull them out before you lose yourself too much.

In a display of what you can only describe as bravery on your part, you aim your camera at your two soaked fingers, spreading them slowly until your slick is webbed thickly between them, translucent and alluring. Before the viscous threads break, you focus the frame and snap the photo. Caution to the wind once more, you send it off to Joel.

No more than a minute later, another voice memo pops up for your listening pleasure.

His voice sounds significantly more wrecked this time.

“God fuckin’ damn, babygirl. Better save some of that for me. By the time I get my mouth on you, I’m gonna be fuckin’ famished .”

You toy with your wet fingers, only pausing a moment before slipping them between your lips and sucking off the evidence of your attraction, moaning into your empty room at the heady taste, knowing Joel will be drinking it right from the source tomorrow.

You start another voice memo.

“Lucky for you, I just did some quality assurance on your meal for tomorrow. A little taste test. I think it’ll meet your expectations. Maybe even exceed them.”

Joel responds quickly with his own memo, the message starting with a groaning sigh that is quite possibly the sexiest thing you’ve ever heard until you hear what he has to say next.

“Shit, babygirl. So proud of you, bein’ so thorough for me.”

You swear you can feel the serotonin flooding your brain at his praise, only increased when he sends a short follow-up memo.

“Such a good girl for daddy.”

A shot of arousal pulses through your cunt at that word and you feel like this shit is too good to be true. At the risk of saying something stupid, you opt to just send a no-frills text back.

You: Fuck.

You already feel like you can just hear that decadent, dirty little chuckle from that first voice memo in response to your message.

Joel: Night, babygirl. See you at noon.

A text with his address tags along after. You paste it into your GPS app. Seven miles away.

You laugh, almost incredulously, to yourself.

Fucking kismet.

It takes you mere minutes to get yourself off after.

Once the haze has lifted, you’re on your wobbly feet, planning your outfit for Joel to take off tomorrow.

—-

The summer breeze fiddles with the hem of your skirt, probably too short to be wearing in any kind of windy weather, but you know what you’re about today. High hemlines, low necklines, a necklace with a tiny charm positioned at the crest of your cleavage to draw the eye, just in case he’s not the red-blooded straight American male you’ve tapped him to be.

You fidget with your dress as you make your way up Joel’s driveway, cross-checking the address number in the text with the one on the front of his house in tarnished gold numerical plates. When you’re confident you’re in the right place, you step up onto the porch, taking a deep breath before knocking on the front door.

The varnished wood creaks open moments later, revealing Joel in all his scruffy, broad glory. He’s in a basic white tee, jeans, and thick socks, and that shit has never looked so tantalizing to you, biceps straining the elastic on his tight shirt sleeves.

“Hi there,” He drawls, taking you in from head to foot and back again. You smile, doing your best to swallow the catastrophic levels of animal attraction you feel to this man just from the first glance.

He holds the door open for you and you step inside. Your first thoughts are that the home is cozy. Lived in. Picture frames on the walls of people you don’t recognize save for the ones featuring the owner of the home. A living room shooting off from the foyer with appropriately dingy couches and throw blankets strewn across them. A carpeted wooden staircase in the entryway leading to the upper level and a hallway that’s a straight shot into the homey kitchen.

It feels…like a home. But a home that has had more than one resident. You decide to delve into that at a later date.

Joel clicks the door shut behind you as you slip off your sandals and he takes your hand in his, holding it out to get the full effect of you. He pipes out a wolfish whistle as he admires your dress, the drape of it over your body.

“You are a picture, darlin’.”

“Thanks,” You mutter, fighting off the urge to succumb to your self-consciousness. “But if I’m a picture, you’re the whole fucking photo album.”

Joel tuts at you. “Don’t you start an argument about who’s the better lookin’ one of the two of us, ‘cause a bastard just might spend the rest of the day makin’ his case,” He counters with a crooked smile, petting the back of your hand with his thumb before placing a kiss to it.

“What a gentleman,” You say, an airy affect to your voice helping to mask the catching of your breath in your throat at first the touch of his lips to your person.

“Do what I can,” He chuckles, letting your hand fall, but linking a large pinky with yours as you meander down the hall. It feels strangely intimate, yet somehow settles the subtle shake in your fingers.

“Your home is lovely. Very warm. Welcoming.”

“I like to think that’s mostly my charming demeanor,” He flirts, peeking over at you as you both enter the kitchen. “Get you a drink?”

“No, I’m okay,” You throw over your shoulder as your pinkies lose contact and you wander around the kitchen island. He leans back against the counter, arms loose across his chest as he tracks your movements around his space. That feels intimate too, the casual scrutiny.

You run your hands over the clean counters, your curiosity peaking when you come across a hodge-podge of odds and ends scattered on the laminate. Screws, drillbits, drywall anchors, and a myriad of other bits and bobbles you don’t know the technical terms for.

You nudge one of the screws and send it rolling towards the backsplash. “Handyman, huh?”

“Somethin’ like that,” He affirms, glancing down at his arms and then back up at you. “I’m a, uh, contractor. My brother and I, we run a ragtag little outfit. Oversee a handful of guys. Got work all over the valley.”

“So good with your hands,” You nod with a flirtatious little smirk.

Joel gives a small laugh. “Reckon so, I guess.”

“Work on anything exciting?”

He shrugs. “Here and there. Mostly just internal construction for new small businesses in the area. Sometimes homes, kitchen remodels, that kinda thing.”

“You build this one?”

“Actually didn’t. Just ‘cause I got the know-how don’t make it easier to get all the proper permits and land and shit to build my own. And was still raisin’ a kid on my lonesome at the time. Less hassle to just buy. Did do my brother Tommy’s place though. Let him handle all the bureaucratic shit.”

You hum in understanding. “He the guy in your profile photo?”

“The very same,” He confirms with a dip of his head.

“Hmm,” You muse, the passive revelation he just dropped not at all lost on you. “A kid, huh? So, you’re, like, a proper DILF then.”

He chuckles, eyes downcast with a dash of that sheepishness. “Dunno about that. She’s long gone out the house by now.”

“How old?”

“Uh, she’ll be 29 come this December.”

“Oh. Damn.”

“What?”

“Older than me.”

His eyes pop. “Shit.”

You see a kind of cast fall over his face, like a cloud drifting its way past the sun, and you feel a twinge of guilt for digging that up. But something tells you there’s something about that concept he’s intrigued by, aroused by. He’s not blind, he knows you’re young. He knows how old his daughter is, what she looks like at her age. Maybe just didn’t quite put two and two together until you emphasized it.

You saunter toward him, your teeth sliding against your lower lip as you rest your hands on the counter at either side of him, feeling the heat of his skin radiating on your own and intent on waving off the cloud over his expression to bring back that sun.

“Good thing I like that sorta thing, I guess. Daddy…” You let that final world melt off your tongue as you look up at him, the solar flare in his eyes a perfect match for yours.

Joel’s chest rises as he inhales, blowing it out in a measured stream through his lips and shaking his head at you as his hands navigate their way to your sides, curling into the thin, stretchy cotton of your dress. “Oh, you little devil. Don’t go teasin’ me with that. Can’t be held responsible for what I do with it.”

“What?” You tease, fingertips tracing the softness giving way to muscle beneath the flimsy material of his t-shirt. “You ashamed to be putting the moves onto someone younger than your kid?”

Joel just shakes his head again, exhaling through his nose as it points to the floor. “Just makes me feel like a dirty old man.”

“Mmm,” You croon, tucking a finger under his chin and coaxing him to look at you. “But you are a dirty old man. Desperate to slide into some young, hot pussy. For a pretty little thing to call you ‘daddy’ while you do it.”

“Fuck…” He rolls off his tongue as his eyes squeeze shut and his head droops back.

“Does Trish call you daddy, too?”

Joel’s head plops back down, conflict warring on his features at the mention of your neighbor while you’re both tiptoeing dangerously close to the edge. “Shit, baby. You can’t—”

“Does she?”

He sighs, his pivoting pupils searching yours before answering, “No. She doesn’t.”

You pull a raspy little sound from your throat as you inch your face closer to his, but taking care that you can still study all of his wrinkles and micro-expressions.

“But that’s what you want. Isn’t it,” You state with no room for argument. “You want me to call you my daddy. Let you fuck me while I whisper it in your ear. And fall apart on your cock with it on my lips, where your come will probably be soon after.”

Your lips ghost over his, and you can see the shimmer in his brown irises, the sparkle of every last filthy thing he wants to subject you to for the good of his own pleasure. As you speak again, your lips brush against his, and you tilt your head back enough to capture his eyes.

“Now, which set of lips that ends up being, I’ll leave up to you.”

The tension snaps like the bite of a rubber band, and you gasp in shock as Joel’s hand flies up to your jaw, fingers squeezing your cheeks until your mouth is in a pout.

“Said you wanted to see if your neighbor was all talk, didn’t ya?”

He all but forces you to nod your head with his hand as you blink rapidly, him nodding along with you with his own head, almost mockingly so with you in his unyielding clutches.

“Yeah? So how’s about you stop runnin’ that pretty mouth, get on your knees, and find out for yourself.”

He maintains his grip on your face as you lower obediently to your knees, your hands slipping down the panes of his body as you go, until they sit at his thighs and you’re sat on your heels with Joel leaning slightly over you to maintain his hold in the new position.

“Good girl. Open your mouth. Stick out your tongue.”

With him already pressing your cheeks together, your mouth pops open with little effort, your tongue following suit. You detect movement inside his mouth, and then he’s hovering over your face with a glint in his eyes. A thick strand of saliva drips from his mouth directly onto your waiting tongue.

You let out a brief, open-mouthed whimper as the fluid hits your tastebuds, but stay put as his spit trickles to the back of your mouth.

“How does daddy taste, babygirl? Good?”

You nod assuringly, the saliva pooling at the back of your throat.

“Such a good girl. Now swallow for daddy.”

You do so eagerly, closing your mouth to swipe your tongue against the roof and push every drop down your throat, before opening back up for him in a display of subservience.

Joel’s thumb tamps down on your tongue, stroking with minor pressure over the muscle with something like a proud smirk. “So obedient. Daddy likes that. ‘Specially when you were so mouthy a second ago.”

“I’m versatile,” You manage to enunciate with Joel manipulating your face to his liking.

“Yes, you are,” Joel praises, eyes flitting back and forth between your mouth and your blown out pupils. Without any preface this time, he shoots another wad of spit directly to the back of your mouth, and you gulp it down with as much relish as the first. Joel exhales a laugh and descends on you, slotting his mouth against yours with a decadent moan, his tongue dragging against yours as if to say good job.

You laugh into it a little bit, tangling your fingers into the hair at the back of his neck to hold him to you. He tastes fresh, like cold water and toothpaste and something else that seems to be uniquely Joel.

His kiss is commanding. Domineering in a manner that’s almost passive, intuitive. He leads, you follow. You hear the jingling of a belt, and your lips already feel plump and debauched from his tongue and teeth. When he breaks apart from you, it’s to lay his forehead against yours, peering directly into the insatiable avarice that he’s provoked inside you in an unprecedented amount of time.

You hear the grate of his zipper as he lures you in further with a teasing, “Now how’s about we see just what you can offer me .”

He pulls you in for one last tongue-caressing kiss, leaving you breathless as he props his elbows onto the counter to his back, an impressive bulge protruding within his boxer-briefs though the undone fly of his jeans.

“Right here in your kitchen?”

“Right here in my goddamn kitchen. ‘S where we eat all our meals,” Joel informs with a shade of seriousness, reaching down to pinch your chin in his fingers and successfully enrapturing your attention. “You be a good girl and choke down what daddy gives ya. Then daddy’ll have his fill. Unpack that little lunchbox you brought just for him, spread you out over the counter so he can feast as he pleases. And then he’ll pack it right back up for you, ‘cause he knows how hungry you are, huh?”

You whine from your throat and nod, “Yes, daddy.”

“That’s daddy’s good girl,” He coos. “Now take it out. Tell daddy if it’s gonna fill you up as full as you thought.”

When your hands come up to curl around the band of his boxers there’s a swirling of anticipation in your belly. You draw the suspense out for yourself, keeping your eyes on Joel’s as you tug down, his shaft bobbing in your periphery. And fuck, even just at the edge of your vision, you can tell he is impressive.

“Go on and look, babygirl. He’s all ready for ya.”

You indulge yourself then, drinking in the sight, the size of him. He’s thick, girth like you’ve never seen before on a normal person who doesn’t pull his cock out for cash. He’s long, too. Swathes of skin bulging with purple-blue veins over the rock-hard swell of him, culminating at a plump, dark red tip that’s already weeping for you.

Your mouth is far ahead of you, saliva flooding from under your tongue to signal up to your brain, I’m so fucking ready.

You subconsciously lick your lips, earning a fleeting laugh from Joel above you. “Whaddya think? Look like it’ll make a good snack ‘fore we get to the main course?”

There’s a severe lack of eloquence being crafted in your mind, forcibly being shoved out in favor of Joel. Big. Joel. Big. Lick. Taste.

Before you can filter it out, you just blurt out, “Big.”

That makes Joel chime a laugh again. “Very astute. What a smart girl daddy’s got here.”

“You were being modest outside my apartment,” You point out with a smirk. “You’re proud of how big you are.”

“Lotta talkin’ goin’ on here, babygirl,” Joel chides, wrapping a hand around the base of his cock that somehow only serves to make him look larger. “That really what you wanna be doin’ right now?”

You shake your head and nudge his hand to replace it with yours, almost comically small around the thickness of him. Joel hums out a moan as you employ the dribble from his slit to slick down his cock.

“Can I…spit on it?”

Joel’s chin drips down as he raises an eyebrow at you. “Can you? Baby, you think you gotta ask?”

You make a shallow shrugging motion as you pull at his cock with your fist. “Just trying to be a good girl.”

“Well, ‘f you ask me,” Joel replies, his voice crawling a little deeper in tone as you continue to stroke him, “a good girl always spits, then swallows.”

“Yeah?” You ask, your own voice verging on coyish innocence.

“Yeah,” Joel rasps, an edge of authority infused into the word in response to the naïveté in yours. It stirs something in your belly, something that preens and purrs and waits not-so-patiently for more of that dictatorial timbre—and maybe a firm hand to go along with it.

You find yourself yearning for the strong, steady press of his fingers against your cheeks again.

Not wanting to taint that “good girl” status as laid out by Joel, you accumulate the saliva in your mouth as you poise his length at your lips, and then round them to expel a healthy dose of spit onto the head.

Joel moans again, petting a hand over your hair as you work the lubrication down his cock. “Mmm, hand looks mighty small ‘round that big cock, don’t it?”

“Yeah,” You breathe, your speed increasing with the enhanced wetness. Your fingertips don’t touch, and that knowledge has your pussy tingling under your dress. There’s just so much of him.

Noises continue to spawn from Joel’s mouth as you pump him, twisting around the head and enthralling yourself with the precome spilling from his tip.

“Put your mouth on it, baby,” He directs, a hint of that dominance injected into the command, which you take as an indicator that he’s done with teasing, he wants to fuck something.

Fortunately, your mouth is more than willing, saliva still pooling in anticipation. You stroke him at the base as you stick out your tongue, giving him broad licks up the underside of the head and dipping into the slit. The groan Joel emits spurs you on, encasing the tip in your mouth and sucking.

“Fuck me, babygirl. So fuckin’ good. Take it deeper.”

You moan around him as you loosen your jaw and dive down onto him until he nudges at the back of your throat. The tickle has an eye-watering cough vibrating around him, but you tuck your lips over your teeth and fight through your gag reflex.

The length you still have left to take has you whimpering as you bob on him, keeping him buried toward the back until you have to release and gasp in a large breath.

“Little too big for you, darlin’?” He remarks with a tilted smile, his thumb running over your damp cheek.

You vehemently shake your head, taking him in again as you stroke what you can’t suck.

Joel groans loudly, tossing his head back as his cock drags along the back of you. His fingers grip your hair as his head falls back down, his lips glistening. “Gimme that tight little throat, babygirl. Can you do that? You ever deepthroated a big cock before?”

You whine and let him slip out of you, dripping with saliva and making up for your absence with quick, long strokes. “Not as big as you, daddy. Not even close.”

“Just let me do the tip then, babygirl. I know it’s big, but you’re a big girl, aren’t you? Y’can take it. I won’t go too deep.”

You nod, mumbling against the reddened tip, “I can do that.”

“Good girl,” He praises, nudging at the back of your head until he’s as far as you can take him without actually entering your throat. Tears gather at the corners of your eyes as you gaze up at him, and him down at you. “Just let it in. Deep breath through your nose and let daddy take your throat,” He soothes, flexing his hand in your hair.

He watches as you inhale, and then rocks his hips forward, stretching your throat open around the head of him. You choke out a whine and Joel shivers at the friction of it, white-knuckling the counter at his back with his free hand as his eyes clench shut.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, baby. That’s— fuck.”

He pulls you free to inhale more precious air, an expression of lust and admiration on his face as he takes in your debauched features. “So good. Doin’ so good for me. Let daddy in again.”

You suck in another breath and sink down on him, your clit beating between your legs as he breaches the tip of his cock into your throat again. It makes your brain go misty, struggling to inhale through your nose. You’ve never felt something stretch your throat like this, but it’s intoxicating. You’ve been choked before and found pleasure in that, but this is different. A complete obstruction of your airway, just for the sake of proving your sluttiness to a near-stranger.

“God, so fuckin’ tight for me. Such a tight fuckin’ girl for daddy,” He forces out through gritted teeth, gently rolling his hips to fuck your throat with his tip. Your throat constricts as you stave off your reflexes, and you know he feels it because the man goddamn whimpers.

He rips you off of him by the back of your head, panting as he rakes his fingers through his sweaty hair. “Fuckin’ Jesus. ‘Bout to bust my goddamn load, darlin’. Shit.”

Warmth blossoms in your stomach at potentially being this gorgeous man’s undoing. You watch his chest rise and fall as he reigns in his orgasm, his cock bobbing up and down, the purpling tip seeping with precome and cascading with your spit.

You automatically lean back in and place a tiny kiss to his slit, giggling at the resultant undulation of his stomach under his shirt. Joel breathes out a laugh of his own and holds a hand out for you.

“Come on. ‘S my turn.”

A little dazed, you take his hand and let him haul you up off your smarting knees, pulling you right into his chest.

“Dirty fuckin’ girl,” He mutters as he captures your lips with his, licking into your mouth with fervor. You collapse into it, sighing into his mouth as his tongue mingles with yours, not a care in the world about the presence of his own fluids coating your tastebuds.

You relinquish your hold on his lips, the bottom one sliding through your teeth, and mutter against him with a grin, “This is fun.”

He laughs lightly, stroking a thumb along your jaw. “Yeah? You havin’ a good time?”

“Mhmm.”

“Haven't even served the appetizer yet,” He mumbles, squeezing at your hips. “Hop up on the counter.”

He maneuvers you back and helps lift you up on the kitchen island, his hands gliding over the tops of your thighs once you’re seated.

“Been thinkin’ about this pussy since I met you in the hallway,” He shares, heat in his eyes as he looks up at you from your acquired high ground.

“Really? Slipping out of one woman’s bed just to pop a boner over another one’s pussy ten seconds later? Such a slut, Joel Miller,” You chastise, leaning back on your hands and parting your legs wider.

“Well, as you can attest to now, there’s plenty of me to go around,” He justifies with a little wink, before craning his head to whisper against your ear, “She’s never deethroated me like that neither. So what does that make you, babygirl?”

“Hmm,” You hum, pretending to actually ponder his words as he kisses along your neck. “Good at what I do?”

He snorts, nipping at your jaw, “‘S a nice way of puttin’ it. I’d’ve just called you a goddamn slut right back.”

“Mmm. Kismet, huh?” You banter back, your fingers curling against the countertop at the charged sensation of his breath over your skin.

Joel grins against your cheek, his hands slowly shifting up your dress. “Fuckin’ kismet.”

His fingers journey up higher, higher, until they hit the crease of your thigh…and he stops.

“Fuck. You’re definitely a little slut. Showin’ up to a stranger’s house with no panties?” He emphasizes his words by dipping a finger between your soaking wet folds, drawing a shiver from you.

“W-waste of time,” You stutter out, subtly rolling your hips down onto his finger. “Already knew what was gonna h-happen. Where they’d end up.”

“I’ll say,” He agrees, his finger disappearing from your center as it drags wetly back up your inner thigh with the rest of his fingers, gripping your thighs with both hands. “Already drippin’ off my fingers.”

He parts your legs with something akin to reverence, and when you’re spread out for him, fully on display, he groans as his forehead drops down onto your thigh.

“God, look at that. So fuckin’ juicy for me and I ain’t barely touched you yet. You really like chokin’ on my dick that much? Make you all drippy and desperate for your daddy?”

“Yeah,” You whimper, feeling your hole clench at his words.

“Perfect,” He sighs out, pressing up on the back of your thighs. “Feet on the counter, darlin’. Lie back.”

“But this is your kitchen counter —”

“I know what it is. What, you think a man don’t got bleach in the house? Now lie back.”

“I don't think you’re supposed to use bl—oh, fuck.”

Joel puffs out a devilish laugh into your clit as he swirls the tip of his tongue around it in dizzying circles.

“Shit, god,” You exhale, feeling a full-body shiver roll through you this time as you dance on the balls of your feet against the counter. “Ok, I’ll shut up now.”

“Don’t shut up,” He mumbles, unlatching for just a moment. “Wanna hear exactly what I do to you,” He adds with a mischievous lilt to his voice before sucking your clit back into his mouth.

“Yeah, okay. Fuck,” You sigh out, your hand blindly searching between your legs until it locates Joel’s head and grabs. Joel moans into your pussy, pulling a gasp from you in return as it pulses through your clit.

Joel’s fingernails dig into the meat of your thigh as he brings two fingers to tease down the folds of your cunt and prod experimentally at your entrance.

“Fuck, yes, please put them in, daddy,” You whine, hips seeking to suck them inside you and making Joel breathe out a laugh again.

“I got you, babygirl. You just lie back and let daddy make you feel good.”

You pick your head up from the counter, seeing the twinkle in his eye and the top of his head adorned with your fingers in his hair, and you feel your face collapsing in pleasure as he slips his fingers inside you while holding your gaze. You drop your head back on the counter a little harder than you should, and if your cunt wasn’t clamping down around his fingers right now and your clit bearing the hot, broad brunt of his tongue, you might care more. But the soft throb at the back of your skull syncs up flawlessly with the thrust of him pushing your walls open, and it just works.

You lose yourself in the slip of his tongue over your sensitive nub, your slick folds, the trace of him around where you’re stretched open around his fingers, sucking kisses at your stuffed entrance. It’s disorientingly hazy in your mind, the reality of it all. You just met this man, know next to nothing about him, whether he’s a liar or just a single father with a heart of gold and a dick of divine proportions.

But Joel crooks his fingers just right as he fucks into you and you don’t fucking care about any of that. Just care about the press of him against your most sensitive spot, how you’re fucking screaming “daddy” for him and bucking your hips against his face.

He hooks his free arm around your thigh to hold you in place, and you glance up to see pure, unadulterated hunger in his eyes as he devours you. You catch glimpses of his mustache webbed and glistening with your slick as his mouth works you over.

The passion, the intensity in his gaze has the pleasure in your belly spinning and swirling, and you know that he knows it.

“Daddy, I-I’m—”

He doesn’t even lift his mouth from your quickly spiraling pussy, he just fixes you with a look and nods.

Your fingers yank at his hair as your back arches against the laminate, feet bowing up on your tiptoes, a thousand and one words flooding your brain that you could say, if only your vocal cords were operational at this exact moment. You just see a flash of white across your vision, eek out the tiniest squeak, and feel yourself transcend for a few blissful moments.

Joel growls against your pussy, fucking you through your release with abandon until your body all but disintigrates against the countertop, your clit still pounding like a drum against Joel’s voracious lips.

He drifts off you and flops his sweaty curls against your leg as you hear him laughing a little, panting a lot.

“Oh my god,” are the first words you’re able to string together in the aftermath. Joel chuckles against your thigh, tonguing kisses up your skin and nuzzling his nose into the crease of your thigh and pussy.

“Could fuckin’ live right here,” He muses, placing a delicate kiss on your outer lips.

“I wouldn’t complain,” You sigh, muscling yourself up onto your forearms to admire the pussy-eating-glow Joel has in spades on his face.

He holds his two slicked fingers up in the air and beckons your forward with them. You heed his call, pushing yourself up until you’re sitting up, albeit rather unsteadily. Without a word, he brings them to your lips, and you open. It’s so fucking easy to open yourself up for him, you’re learning. He studies your lips as you suck yourself off of him, substantially more coated in your wetness than when you sent him that filthy picture last night. And just for a little fun, you swirl your tongue around the tips of them, in between them, just to see his eyes glaze over a bit.

He slips his fingers free and cups the back of your neck, eyes still preoccupied with the shape of your mouth. “Bring those lips over here, babygirl.”

You indulge him, indulge yourself, and revel in the press of his plump lips against yours again. His mouth moves so silkily with yours, an expert at drawing out the tension of these in-between overtures, sucking the taste of you right off your own tongue.

Resting your forehead against his, you whisper, “Can I tell you a secret?”

His eyes close as he nods, “Mhmm…”

“The other night…when I was listening…”

He pops one eye open in curiosity. “Mmm?”

Your teeth toy with your lip before you reveal to him, “I came. To the sound of your voice. The sound of you coming.”

His eyes fall closed again with a broad grin. “Goddamn. Do I got a little voyeur on my hands?” He asks, intertwining his fingers with yours and squeezing as his mouth finds your neck again, gradually winding you back up.

“Not intentionally,” You sigh out, your head lulling to the side with the drag of his lips. “Just couldn’t get over how sexy your voice was, even when I could barely hear your words. Just the tone of it.”

“Well, I’ll talk all you want me to, babygirl.”

“Good.”

He hums into you, flexing a hand at your hip. “I would really like to fuck you now. ‘F you’ll let me.”

“Hmm, let me think about that…” You tease, wrapping your legs around his torso and your arms around his neck to pull him in and taste him again.

“Bedroom,” He mouths against your lips, helping to lift you off the counter and back onto your feet.

“Yeah,” You agree, letting him tug you along behind you up the stairs.

Your dress is on the floor in record time, your tits falling free of their confines when your bra follows, and Joel is shrugging his shirt off his shoulders when he herds you onto his bed, straddling you at the shoulders and waist.

“Look at these goddamn tits, baby. Where you been hidin’ these all this time?” He groans, burying his face in them and sucking a hardened nipple into his mouth.

“Th-th-think we were a little busy, don’t you?”

“Never too busy for tits like these,” He asserts as he trades sides, the bud popping from his mouth plumped and shiny.

You allow yourself to get lost in the sensation of his mouth on your breasts, his tongue and teeth stimulating your nipples, his hands groping the flesh of them. His exposed cock grinds against your thigh, leaving streaks of precome in its wake.

“How do you want daddy to fuck you, babygirl?” He asks, kissing his way up your chest.

You push through the haze of pleasure in your head, second-guessing what you’d already decided to say when you’d both arrived at this moment. “You’re gonna think I’m weird.”

Joel studies your face with a faint smile. “Maybe. Try me.”

After a brief silence, you decide to throw caution to the wind. Just ask for what you want. He can tell you to fuck off if it creeps him out.

“Fuck me like you fucked her.”

A flash of devilishness sparks in his eye, his smile burgeoning as he considers your words. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Wanna see how much my imagination got right.”

You see his tongue prodding at his inner cheek as he processes, eyes not straying from yours. Only growing more ravenous. “Okay,” He finally agrees, giving you a small nod. “Hands and knees, babygirl.”

Joel pushes off the bed, wriggling himself out of his lingering clothes as you eagerly get in position, peeking over your shoulder to get a nice view of this gorgeous specimen getting naked for you. Joel spies the attention quickly with you not exactly striving for subtlety, and he winks at you as he strips off his boxers.

And something about that small gesture sets off the butterflies in your stomach. Which is all well and good, you suppose, granted that given Joel’s size, they were destined to be disrupted rather imminently anyway.

Joel settles in behind you on his knees, his hands naturally gravitating to the curve of your hips as his cock bobs obscenely in the space between your bodies. He pushes and pulls at the flesh of your ass, parting it in front of him to reveal yourself to him from a different angle this time. The muted fuck he breathes out at the sight ruffles those wings in your belly again.

His middle finger slips down the center of your ass, gliding over the pucker of your asshole and descending toward your soaked opening, and your eyelids shutter closed with a sigh.

When he speaks again, it’s softer than it has been. Like the reverence that manifested when he spread your legs on the counter has found its way back to him.

“Now, I fucked her with a condom. You want me to use a condom?”

You swallow and exhale through your nose. “We should.”

“Yes we should,” He echoes, and his finger pushes into you with ease.

“Don’t.”

His finger freezes. “Don’t?”

“No, not—” You try to clarify, huffing a breath out through your mouth this time. “Don’t use one. Fuck me bare. I’m clean. And on birth control. You’re…you’re clean, right?”

Joel’s finger starts to move again, but slowly, fucking into you at a glacially agonizing pace that has your breath hitching in your chest, building that heat in your core once again while barely even trying.

“I’ve been clean since the last time I fucked someone bare. But I don’t know about after. You okay with that?”

You sigh, “This is fucking stupid right? We shouldn’t.”

Joel nods behind you, quietly slipping in a second finger along with the first and evoking a near-undetectable moan from you, while he commiserates your own sentiments once more.

“It is stupid. And we shouldn’t.”

“God,” You moan, floating your head back onto your shoulders as you gradually rock your hips back to meet the maddening thrusts of his fingers. “Just…fucking do it.”

Joel’s fingers still inside you once more, shoved in all the way up to the webbing between them, as he bends over you, cupping your hip in his other hand and ghosting his lips over your ear. “I need you to be real sure, darlin’. ‘Cause once I start, once I feel this perfect pussy wrapped around my naked cock, I’m not gonna wanna stop.”

Joel twists and curls his fingers inside you, and your toes curl along with it as you gasp at the press of them against your sweetest spot. You swallow thickly again and affirm, “I’m sure that I wanna feel your bare cock inside me.”

Joel’s forehead makes a home between your shoulder blades, moaning as he places a kiss where his lips land on your spine, and grinding out a wrecked and reedy, “Fuck. Alright. Then daddy’ll fuck this cunt raw.”

You whimper as Joel’s fingertips massage at that spot inside you, his other hand coming around to circle your clit, all pretense of dragging out your pleasure abandoned.

“But I need to feel you come around my fingers again first, babygirl. Be a good girl for daddy.”

You’re embarrassingly close already, vestiges of your activities downstairs culminating with the torturous tease of his fingers winding you up for the last several minutes, and now the sweet, slippery, calloused drag of his skilled touch rubbing at your clit. All in all, it takes him less than thirty more seconds before you’re tiptoeing the edge.

“I-I’m—” The words don’t even have the opportunity to claw their way out of your mouth before you’re shattering on him for the second time this afternoon, pulsing around his fingers in a silent scream as he mutters the sweetest encouragements into your skin.

His hand is wet when he uses it to stroke down your side, squeezing and smacking your ass lightly as your legs tremble under you and you float back down to earth.

“That’s a good girl. All soaked and ready for my cock now, huh?”

As your brain cells continue relearning how to assemble words, you just nod, muttering some mottled version of yeah that sounds alien even to your own ears. But the incoherency makes him laugh, which makes you smile, and it helps ground you.

Joel takes his cock in hand and slicks it up with the wetness clinging to your folds, your stomach seizing when he grazes your sensitive clit. It sits between your lips as Joel leans over, rifling through his side table and coming up with a small bottle of lube.

When you protest slightly, he insists, “Just wanna make this feel as good as fuckin’ possible for you, baby. I know you’re already drenched. But you’ve seen how big daddy is. Need all the help we can get.”

He’s liberal with the lubrication, anointing your hole and his cock and lining himself up. And at the first light press, his size feels insurmountable. Skin stretching, pulling apart in every direction as his head makes room for itself. You whimper into the side of your arm, biting into the flesh as the pain flares.

“I know, baby,” He coos in your ear, his inching forward more akin to centimeters as he takes his time entering you. “Daddy’s real big, huh? Too much for this tight little pussy?”

“It’s just so…” Your words trail off in a moan as he slips further inside, almost fully seated within your walls. “God, it’s so fucking big.”

“You want me to stop?”

“Fuck no,” You gasp out, your hand reaching out to dig your nails into his hip to prevent him from retreating.

“Mmm,” He moans, sucking your lobe into his mouth and tugging with his teeth as he bottoms out inside you, feeling you clench around him as he brushes your cervix. “Knew you could take it all. Slutty little thing.”

“F-feels like I’m splitting in half,” You let out shakily, your fingers trembling where they indent his hip.

“Well,” Joel grunts out as he withdraws to the tip and pauses to whisper in your ear, “I guess good ol’ Trish was right,” and then slams the full length of him back into you again.

The scream you release grates against your vocal cords, has your fingernails threatening to pierce through the cotton of his duvet, has your knees sliding further apart on the bed, dropping your ass down. Firm hands dig into your hips and haul you back up just in time for Joel to fuck into you again. And again. And again. Until the rhythmic slapping together of your skin perpetuates the illusion in your mind that it’s failing to keep tempo with the sound of it reverberating off his bedroom walls. Or maybe your hearing is just failing you in favor of zeroing in on the stretch of Joel’s cock inside of you.

That must be it, because you don’t even realize that you’re still screaming, still shouting obscenities about his size, his pace, just him, until you register Joel in your ear, growling at you, “Yeah, let me fuckin’ hear it baby. Let me hear how you take it. How big is daddy’s cock inside you, babygirl? ‘S’it as big as you wanted?”

He must categorize your half-intelligible slurs of, “Yes, fuck, so fucking big, daddy please ,” as plenty satisfactory, because he just keeps going. One of his hands buries itself into the hair at your scalp and pulls, yanking your head up until your view shifts from pillows and sheets to stark white ceiling. A grunt pushes its way past your throat as the arch of your neck compresses your skin against your throat and Joel bottoms out inside you again, grazing the end of you in the most glorious, transcendent fashion.

“Shame there’s not someone in the next room over hearin’ what I’m doin’ to you, ain’t it?” Joel coos in your ear again, his thrusts going more liquid, like honey drizzling off its dipper into the jar. He slides languidly inside you to the hilt, dragging out with the suction of sweet molasses luring him back in. It devastates you in an entirely new way, has you hanging off his words with blanching fingertips. “Though, I’d wager you’re screamin’ loud enough to perk up some ears in the houses down the street.”

You moan at the thought, at the notion of people hearing Joel destroy you just like you overheard him doing to your neighbor. Right now, you couldn’t give a shit if the entire world knew how good this man is making you feel. Your friends, your family, the goddamn Pope for all you care. Just as long as he keeps fucking you like this.

You are absolutely, without a sliver of a doubt, irrefutably positive that you have never felt this full. Despite Trish’s own words, god bless her, you never could have prepared yourself for the battering ram that is Joel’s cock ravishing your cunt. In your experience, dicks of any size can be fulfilling; dicks of any size can be unfulfilling. But heaven help you, Joel has the length, the girth, and the motion down pat. Throw on top the scintillating monologue of filth spilling into your ear like the sweetest poison, and goddamn it, this man could have you professing your love for him within the hour.

“Love this fuckin’ pussy, baby. So goddamn tight around me. Tell me how it feels,” He growls through his teeth as he steps up his pace again, your head jostling with the thrusting of his hips and the strands of your hair stinging at the back of your skull.

“So perfect. So fucking perfect. Love your cock, daddy,” You sob, your hair slipping through Joel’s fingers and your head falling forward as he releases his grip, instead wrapping his hand at the slope of your shoulder into your neck to pull you backward into his pistoning hips.

“‘S it big? ‘S it as big as you wanted when you heard me fuckin’ someone else with it?”

“Yes, daddy! So big. Bigger than I ever could’ve—oh god ,” You cut yourself off as Joel hits you so fucking right inside, and suddenly words aren’t so doable anymore.

And for the first time in your life, you think a man is going to make you come three times in a single day. Hell, in an hour. A man you just fucking met, a man who 48 hours ago was nothing more than a velvety hum and a few dirty words on the other side of your wall. And now he’s made a space for himself inside your body, coaxing orgasms out of you as easily as he had you calling him “daddy”.

“Daddy, I’m-I’m gonna fucking come again,” You whine, and Joel is already sliding the hand on your hip in between your legs, circling your throbbing clit with his fingers.

“Little cunt is putty in my fuckin’ hands, huh, babygirl? Don’t matter what I give you–my mouth, my fingers, my cock–just a thirsty little bitch for any piece of me you can get. Come on, come for me again, darlin’. Come for your daddy. All over his big fuckin’ cock.”

With that, your eyes roll back as your pussy spasms around his hard length, your body convulsing as his fingers tease out your release from you. The pummelling of his dick inside your cunt, the magic of his touch on your sensitive clit has your orgasm seeming to float through every vein in your body, not stopping until it’s fried every one of your nerve endings in the process.

“Oh, fuck, baby. That’s–god, pussy feels too fuckin’ good,” He grits out, fingers and cock still doing their due diligence to draw out your pleasure as long as possible. “Tell me to come in this fuckin’ cunt.”

You whimper, nodding your head rapidly as your high finally starts to fizzle out and the pounding of his dick increases in intensity as he approaches his own climax.

“Uh-uh, I need to hear it, babygirl. Tell me to come in this stretched-out little cunt,” He grunts out, his voice going a little breathy as he struggles to stem his release.

“P-please, daddy! Please come in my little pussy, fucking need it so bad,” You sputter out, using what energy you have left to throw yourself back onto his cock.

Joel groans deep from his chest as his hips snap forward once, twice more before he’s shooting his load inside your already dripping, waiting cunt. Joel’s mouth descends on your shoulder, his teeth burrowing into the skin as his cock pulses.

Your racing heart begins to slow as the moments pass, Joel’s mouth unearthing from the craters excavated in your flesh, sucking lazy, soothing kisses to the impressions. You hum at the calming slide of his mouth, his cock softening but staying put right where you’re convinced it belongs for the rest of the day.

You let out a little squeak when Joel nips playfully at your shoulder, knocking your head against Joel’s as you mutter with a lighthearted grin, “Eat your heart out, Trish.”

Joel breathes out a laugh, capturing your lips in a lazy, sloppy kiss. Strong hands wind around your waist and pull you back against him, Joel sitting on his heels with his length still buried inside you and your heads craning to savor the afterglow.

“You’re somethin’ else,” He mumbles into your mouth, hand sneaking up to squeeze at your tit.

“As long as I’m something,” You tease back, intertwining your fingers with his over your breast.

“I’d really like to do this again.”

“I would too.”

“Might not even have to take my cock out of this glorious little pussy in the meantime.”

You laugh a little, nestling your forehead into the curve of his neck. “I meant more like…I’d like to do this whole thing again. In the future.”

He tilts his head toward you. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Joel affirms his hold on you and plants a kiss on your head. “I like the sound of that too.”

You stay there, secure in his arms, his spend pooling where he’s lodged inside you. You gradually feel him harden once more and you fall onto your back, letting him unravel you all over again on his cock. Taking you a little slower this time, a little longer, fucking his come back into you with each heavy stroke and smearing it over his shaft, into the tufts of hair at his base, dripping down his balls. And after he brings you to orgasm a toe-curling, limb-tingling fourth time, he makes you tell him again. Tell him to spill himself into your body, fill you up with more than just his paralyzing length. And this time he spreads open your thighs, watches as you push it out of your ravaged hole onto his disheveled bedding, and showers you with praise.

You lie sated and exhausted on his bed as he wipes between your legs with a damp cloth and settles down next to you, pulling your back into his chest and draping his chin over your shoulder. Your bones relax into him as his breathing balances.

“That was… the best sex I’ve ever had in my life. No contest,” You finally admit, at risk of it going straight to his head.

“Me too,” He reciprocates, inhaling deeply as he squeezes around you. “All that fuckin’ kismet,” He chuckles in your ear.

You hum, unable to wipe the smile from your face as his breath dances over you. As he kisses down your neck, you sigh. “Remind me to send Trish a fruit basket.”

taglist: @bbyanarchist@within-the-depths@livingdeadmaria@cool-iguana@a-roving-woman @koshkaj-blog @asideblogformyficreading @totallynotastanacc @adaslittleblog @walkintotheriveranddisappear @pr0ximamidnight @sinfulrock @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @kyloispunk @pinkiec6-rubi @vickywallace @pattwtf @chiyo13 @neverwheremoonchild @janaispunk @youandmeand5bucks @ladyburberry @kamcrazy123 @punkshort @survivingandenduring @confessionbrain-writings @lizzie-cakes @prettyinpunk85 @joeldjarin @bubble-pop-eclectic @chloeangelic @tripkid @untamedheart81 @jbb-sgr @punkshort @thee-expired-lover @anoverwhelmingdin @untamedheart81 @maximoff-forevermore @zliteraturehoe @5oh5 @khindahra @nottodaysattan

This will be my last time using my taglist! For further updates please follow @atticrissfinchupdates ❤️

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #katy wroted fic

2K notes · View notes

cl6teen · 6 months

Text

affection, ln4 ❀ chapter i. clueless

masterlist || chapter ii

in which everyone can’t believe that a certain mclaren driver and f1’s resident rich girl aren’t dating already

contains: smau, oblivious lando & oblivious reader

liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, and 223,211 others

yourinstagram a much needed vacay

view all comments

landonorris im still offended by the lack of an invite

yourinstagram thailand is for the girls, not sorry!

bsfsinstagram there was a strict no lando norris rule for yn

user i have gyat to go to thailand

liked by yourinstagram

carlossainz55 the book is upside down dummy

yourinstagram i’ll turn you upside down

oscarpiastri what an informative post yn

yourinstagram hehe, can’t wait to see you

user omg yn at the next race???

user literally what are all these f1 boys doing in her comments

user shes a nepo baby i think

user her dad is mclaren’s biggest sponsor so she’s able to attend a lot of f1 events

user my fav honorary f1 wag

yourinstagram wag?? i’m very much single thank you

daniel ricciardo 🌚

yourinstagram don’t give them things to read into daniel.

lanny

i miss you

hey yn

miss youuu

when are you coming back

thailand can’t be that fun

y/n/n

thailand is totally that fun

in fact we’re about to go on a boat

lanny

you can go on a boat over here

y/n/n

it’s not the same 🙄

i don’t know why you’re so hung up about me taking a vacation

monaco gets boring sometimes

lanny

yeah but the second i get back from racing around the world you’re already gone

y/n/n

well i’ll be in the uk just in time for silverstone

lanny

you’re going back home?

y/n/n

my father said it’d be good to be around for a home race

so i’ll be in the uk for some time probably, it’s been a while since i’ve been back

lanny

okay good

i better see you cheering for me

it’d be embarrassing if my best friend was rooting for someone else

y/n/n

i’ve got my mclaren 4 cap ready to go

cant wait to see you ❤️

liked by yourinstagram, oscarpiastri, maxfewtrell and 533,444 others

lando.jpg home dump

view all comments

yourinstagram and it’s all just a bit too much…for littol lando norris

lando.jpg im hiding in your walls

yourinstagram creep

maxfewtrell stream time? 🤔

lando.jpg let me race first bro

user not lando feeding yn pasta and lobsterrrr

carlossainz55 aye, was this a date??

yourinstagram he wishes, he got me from the airport & we went straight to eat

danielricciardo who’s that cutie?

yourinstagram i’m right here!

danielricciardo oh..i meant lando

oscarpiastri 😬

user im so confused, are they dating??

user no, but they’ve been like best friends since lando’s rookie year in mclaren

user shes better than me, i would have fallen in love…

liked by mclaren, landonorris, oscarpiastri, and 745,234 others

yourinstagram couldn’t be prouder of my boys!!

tagged landonorris and oscarpiastri

view all comments

mclaren loving the love from our papaya girl 🧡

yourinstagram mwah

user yn ate today on the paddock

user she’s wearing lando’s hat im gonna cry

bsfsinstagram ugh get these men off my feed and show me ur pretty face

yourinstagram i was held at gunpoint and told to post this :/

landonorris the 6th photo…

yourinstagram ikr can you believe that loser got p2?

landonorris not too much now

oscarpiastri i look crazy

yourinstagram you look so cute??

oscarpiastri you shoved a camera in my face while i was eating

yourinstagram i did nothing wrong 🥰

user who was the man you were with on the paddock though?

yourinstagram my father!

user girl your daddy fine

liked by bsfsinstagram

bsfsinstagram user you have great taste

maxfewtrell send me that lando photo please

yourinstagram will do 🫡

45 likes

onlyyn i luv a good arfter prty

view all comments

danielricciardo me when i’m on the hennessy

onlyyn hehe

landonorris im looking for you

bsfsinstagram please don’t do anything crazy babe 😭

onlyyn i’ll try

lanny

y/n

where are you?

i thought you were with oscar

y/n/n

i let oscar leave! he looked tired

lanny

you should’ve told me that then

i would’ve kept an eye on you

are you drunk

y/n/n

i’m not a child oscar

lanny

*lando, but i’ll ignore that

and i’m not saying you are yn

there’s just people here that can be like

weird is all, who knows

are you drunk??

y/n/n

i don’t know, i’m not sober

are you drunk

lanny

i’m not sober

y/n/n

i thought you hated alcohol?

lanny

carlos convinced me to do some shots with him and max…

i regret it a little

do you wanna go home

y/n/n

yea

my feet hurt

lanny

i’ll carry you until we get to an uber

so can you tell me where you are now??

y/n/n

i’m in the bathroom

lanny

don’t move, i’ll come get you

y/n/n

god you’re the best ever lando

lanny

yeah i know 😁

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris imagine #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 smau #f1 x black!reader

2K notes · View notes

placeinthemiddleofnowhere · 1 year

Text

Keep Moving Forward

Pairing: König x Reader

Summary: You're determined to find out why everyone thinks König is so scary, afterall he's just some guy that's taller than most people right? He's probably harmless! Well, he's a little scary, but you still like him anyway.

(No use of y/n or mention of gender/race)

AN: Just want to say a massive thank you for everyones lovely comments on the last part, I can't believe how many notes that has now 😱 I've got a taglist so if you want to be added or removed (I just stuck down everyone that commented or reblogged the last one with tags/comments) lemme know! Also I've got my own version of what König looks like and I've been including details so hopefully you like my thoughts on him 🥰

Part 2 of A Rocky Start - Full Masterlist Here

-☠️-

A forbidden crush, a whole unit of men watching out for any missteps and a job that required you to be on your A game - it all sounded a bit like a bonkers netflix plot, but no this was your life now. You were desperately trying to hide your little (massive) König crush, while trying to get through your days and it was going horribly. The universe was working against you.

König kept appearing for one. Now that he knew you weren’t talking to him just to fuck with him, you’d been meeting more and more and talking for longer each time. In fact, you’d come to learn a lot about the man in the short amount of time you’d spent together and unfortunately for you, nothing about any of it turned you off. In fact, you were only falling harder for him.

Every touch, every grazed hand when you were reaching for mugs and brushed sides when you sat together on the couch - they were driving you crazy. Not to mention catching little details about him here and there, painting a mental picture that rivalled the mona lisa.

You’d caught a glimpse of a scar that snaked up from his lip and a few that marred his hands and arms, you’d noted bruises that carried back from missions and most of all you couldn’t help but think of the little birthmark on his left hip that he’d exposed when he’d been reaching for tea. You thought about running your fingers along them often, kissing them all better.

You’d learned that it was pretty much pointless to make movie references to König because he barely took time to watch them. He was much more of a doer, he didn’t like to sit still for long and most film runtimes were over an hour and a half, which was no good for him. And so you’d slowly gotten a peek into his more active hobbies. Hiking, rock climbing and skiing, only to name a few. The man was an athlete that rivalled most of the soldiers you knew.

“And this was the view from top!” he’d proudly said after he showed you another picture from one of his hikes.

“Woah, no wonder your legs are like tree trunks,” you’d murmured, raking your eyes over his thick thighs.

“What was that?”

“Oh! Just- you must get a good workout climbing all those hills.”

Just one of the many times you’d let your appreciation for him slip. You could barely help it most of the time, he had your words fizzling out like some kind of mentos and coke explosion. The highly trained soldier in you died the minute you were in a room with him.

It was when he grabbed you that you finally went stupid for him. König was - as Captain Price had described him - a mammoth in many regards. You’d already taken note of his verging on monstrous height, but you’d come to learn a lot more about his strength. He could lift you like you were little more than a lap dog.

How had you come to find this out? Well -

“Watch out!”

Your head had been completely in the clouds, busy catching up with messages from your family, when suddenly you were in the air. You gasped as you felt a pair of hulking arms pick you like an apple from a low hanging branch and squeaked when you looked down and came to notice the pile of vomit that lurked below your flailing feet. Gross.

Then you’d come to the slow realisation of exactly whose arms were wrapped around you. Suddenly the rising feeling of nausea was replaced by hordes of stirred up butterflies.

“Are you ok?”

You blinked, still shocked that König was holding you like you were nothing.

“Uh- ah- yeah! Yup! All good, big guy!”

You’d hurried out your reply, sputtering out your words like a leaky tap. You felt like an idiot. Then the feeling intensified when he put you down and turned you to face him. In fact, you felt like someone had placed a heat pad to your face after running a marathon.

If he could lift you that easy when you were limp, imagine how easy he could lift you up against the wall and-

“Are you sure you’re ok? You look…not so good?.”

You gulped and offered him what you hoped was a reassuring smile and then - to make matters worse - a double thumbs up (who did that???). You silently cursed in your mind, but covered up your embarrassment by staring back at the sick pile for a second and then facing König again.

“Ew…thanks for saving me from that! I would’ve been throwing up as well if I’d had to clean that outta my shoes.”

“Any time, friend!”

Friend.

It stung a little, but then you had to remind yourself you were both supposed to be acting professionally, this was a base afterall, and quickly righted yourself. Friend would do fine in a setting where Price would have your head for even looking at König a little flirtily. Especially when the resident gossips had continued to grass you in for any interactions they caught.

-☠️-

“That was some amount of whitey those new recruits left all over the hallways yesterday,” Soap had remarked after finishing a set of pull ups.

You hummed in agreement, remembering back to being lifted and growing quiet as you thought about Königs bulging arms. It had been a recurring thought for the whole twenty two hours since it had happened. Not that you were counting or anything, especially not being obsessive by any means. It was just that the electricity that had been sparked by that touch had been racing around your body and now you were stuck replaying the scene over and over in your head like an accursed rerun.

“English, Soap,” Ghost grunted, from a nearby bench.

“There was a lot of puke all over the place yesterday,” Soap sighed, rolling his eyes at the Lieutenant.

“Oh yeah, I heard about that. Did you hear sneaky almost stepped in it?”

“Ooft, that’d be a shite shift cleaning that off.”

“I know. Luckily little sneak got airlifted to safety,” Ghost said slyly, giving you a pointed look. “Got snatched away by a certain giant before they stepped right in it.”

You froze in your spot, just about to curl a weight upwards before letting it crash out of your hands and onto the floor. That fucking, no good old dear prick! How had he heard about that? You hadn’t thought anyone else had been around when it had happened.

“Careful, sneak. The German’s not here to stop that from stubbing your toe,” Ghost chuckled.

“He’s Austrian actually…And how did you know about that?”

“Oooh! Austrian,” Soap snickered.

“Well I do apologise. You should know by now that I hear about everything when it comes to our unit, sweetheart.”

You hated that. Whenever Ghost patronisingly called you sweetheart it made your blood boil and clouded your thoughts like a thick red mist. Though, there was nothing you could do about it. He wasn’t someone you could wage revenge on without being thoroughly outgunned in all respects. Plus, it would only make you look more guilty.

“Well, you didn’t even know what nationality König was so you don’t know everything,” you muttered.

“Well, now that you’ve filled me in, I can go tell Price you were getting lifted up by the big Austrian cunt that he told you to stay away from,” he countered smugly.

“What! I can’t help who snatches me out of the air from nowhere,” you hissed. “Have you seen the size of him? I can’t exactly stop him.”

He tisked.

“Well then, soldier. Sounds like you need more training. C’mere, we’ll practise getting out of holds!”

You yelped as Ghost had come crashing toward you and dove out of the way just in time to miss his outstretched arms. Even if he was smaller than your new companion, Ghost was still built like a tank - and he would pin you down like a mouse under the wheel of a 4x4 if he caught you.

“Stay away from me!” you’d squealed, running away from the gym.

“Oh now you’re suddenly averse to getting grabbed!”

-☠️-

Essentially, you were discovering a new level of hell every day. Your entire unit had cottoned on to your little thing with König and now there was no escape from the jokes they made. Well that is until Price came along and no one was quite enough of an asshole to mention your activities to him. You all knew the consequences of getting his back up and it wasn’t worth the stress for anyone.

Though, not everyone was aware of that - König himself for one. Unluckily for you, you’d found yourself in the kitchen with Price and Soap and just as the kettle was put to the boil, who should walk in but the Austrian giant himself.

“Evening,” he murmured, barely loud enough to be heard over the kettle.

Soap looked up from his phone as he noticed König and widened his eyes before searching you out and giving you a sly smile. Oh lord. You knew he was going to love watching you squirm.

Suddenly your heart was thudding like a samba drum and your mind was racing to find your self restraint. Don’t let Price see you turn into a nervous fucking wreck! You repeated that over and over like a mantra, turning it over in the sands of your mind as if you might find some calm that way.

“Evenin’” you smiled, feeling your voice lilt.

Oh god.

You smiled at König as he approached the counter and promptly scampered away to the table, hoping that by keeping some distance you wouldn’t be so transparent. Fat chance considering the stupid smirk that was all over Soap’s face as he pretended to batter his eye lashes behind Price’s back. Asshole!

You knew you looked guilty as hell, even if you were walking away from König. However, any chance of not being caught ogling by Price was worth taking. So you figured you’d stare at your phone instead and prayed to all the gods you knew of that König was busy and he’d have to leave again after getting himself something to drink.

Why didn’t he ever go out for food? There was a perfectly nice pub just over the road and he could easily go there instead of looking over you all the time - putting you in grievous danger of toilet duty. You’d have to tell him about it sometime, and hope that he’d ask to go with you.

“Anyone else want a brew?” Price offered, in the midst of pouring his own cup.

You looked up from your phone screen, darting your eyes over to the captain. Answer him! Speak normally!

“Oh! Yes, me please.”

Maybe that was a little more polite and nicey-nice than usual, but at least you were coherent. That was something, a small victory.

“Coffee for me, Price,” Soap grinned.

You breathed out a small sigh now that Price was distracted by Soap and let your eyes wander over to König, resting your chin in your hand. He was so big, he towered over the two other men by a few heads at least. He could pin you down like a lion and there’d be nothing you could do about it, nothing you’d want to do about it.

“That’s the wrong one.”

You jumped as König’s accented voice interrupted the thankful silence and widened your eyes as you watched him turn to Price. What was he doing? You sucked in a breath and watched as the two men became locked into an exchange and silently hoped a rogue sniper might take you out.

“Sorry, what was that?” Price asked, frowning deeply as he stared at the masked man.

“That’s the wrong tea,” König supplied helpfully. “Sneaky likes this one.”

As if correcting Price on his choice of tea wasn’t enough, König went to the lengths of picking a bag of your herbal stuff out. He dropped it into the mug and stuck the other bag back in the back, tilting his head as Price stared at him with a raised eyebrow.

“Well then…thanks for the advice,” he finally said, turning to stare you down. “It’s never nice when you expect one thing and get the other.”

You were in deep shit.

He was giving you the ‘I’ve killed before and I’ll do it again’ look. You gulped and slumped in your chair, feeling like a tiny child that was about to get reprimanded. Price was going to learn all about your involvement with König soon, the game was up.

“Oh yeah, no problem!” König said, sounding like he was smiling under his mask.

That idiot!

Though, in fairness to him he knew nothing about the toilet duty thing. He didn’t even have any idea that you weren’t supposed to be interacting with him, especially when you’d gone so out of your way to do it over the past month. It wasn’t his fault, but at the same time you could strangle his beautiful massive neck for what he’d done.

“Sneak, would you mind coming with me for a moment? I think we should have a little chat,” Price smiled. “I’ll bring your tea.”

He was probably omitting that he was going to dump it over your stupid head, you thought worriedly. This wasn’t good at all.

You gulped and nodded at him, slinking out of your chair like a dog about to take a beating. Though, you continued to follow behind him just as dutifully - Ignoring Soap as he gave you a little wave off and a snarky smile. You knew as soon as you’d left that he was messaging the group chat right then, and the whole 141 would know that you were getting pulled up for speaking to König.

He lead you down the hall and into an empty meeting room, setting the two mugs down on the table, they hit the wood like death knells, and pointed to the chair in front of him. It all felt very formal, like this was going to be one of the worst telling offs of your life.

“Don’t look so scared, kid.”

You bit your tongue and chanced a look in his eyes, seeing the glint that lingered within them. He didn’t look furious, but he didn’t look like he was going to offer you a cuddle and kind words either. It made you sweat a little less, but you weren’t dumb enough to completely untense your body yet.

“Y-you’re not annoyed that I’ve been speaking to König?” You asked, chancing your luck.

“Oh, I’m annoyed, but I’m not going to kill you for it,” he laughed humorlessly, leaning back in his chair. “You look like you’re going to shit yourself.”

“I think I might,” you said, biting your lip and fastening your shaky hands around your warm tea cup.

“See, that’s why I’m concerned about this…relationship you’re building with König. I worry about you.”

You frowned, thoroughly surprised by his reaction. He was being a damn sight more sympathetic than you were expecting. This wasn’t a bollocking, this was an intervention.

“You don’t have to worry. We’re just friends - strictly platonic! We talk and have tea together, nothing more than that,” you explain breathily, hoping it’ll appease the captain.

He strokes a hand through his beard and eyes you warily. He’s clearly unconvinced. His jaw is set into a worried line.

“Hmm.”

He doesn’t give much away.

“Really, I’m not trying to take things f-further.”

You stutter like a liar. Really, that is what you’re doing if you’re honest with yourself. You might not be asking König out on dates and braiding flowers into his gear, but you have been shamelessly flirting with him and getting into close proximity with him at the slightest chance. Plus, Price practically knows you better than your own parents, he’d be able to tell when you were acting differently, like you were in terminal stages of puppy love.

“Look, he’s not part of our unit, so really it’s none of my business, I can’t actually do anything about it - as much as I’d like to,” he says, glowering for a moment. “I just think that he’s dangerous and I don’t like the thought of you getting close to him. For all I know, he’s nice enough to you, but when he’s on the field that man’s an animal. There’s something wrong with him.”

You gasp a little as he says it, shocked that he’d say something like that to you. What did he mean there was something wrong with König? Sure, you thought, he was quiet and intimidating but he was so polite and cheerful when you’d gotten to know him more. It’s not like most people were their best selves on a battlefield - it was in your training to leave all that behind. It was hypocritical to judge Königs actions given your experience with the 141 out on missions.

“What do you mean there’s something wrong with him?” You finally asked, curious to know just what Price meant.

“He takes too much pleasure in the work he does. He’s sick when he’s out there- like letting a rabid dog out of its cage. I worry about you getting involved with him and being at the mercy of a man like that. You wouldn’t have any chance against him, Sneak. I’ve seen him crush bones like they’re twigs, he’d snap you like a toothpick.”

You can feel your pulse in your ears, can hear it working away like a jackhammer. You don’t know how to respond. The fact that Price is this worried for you really does concern you, but on the other hand König has never given you any reason to be scared of him beyond that first encounter you’d had with him. Then again, you reasoned that that surely wasn’t the real him - that was guarded walled up version of him. Right?

“I see,” you sighed, not able to come out with more.

“I know you won’t want to take my word for it, and you’re going to keep doing whatever it is you're actually doing. I just want to know that you’ve been warned and you’re going to be careful.”

You took a breath and looked away, roving your eyes over the assortment of chairs on the other side of the room. Sure, you could take his warning on. Though, it didn’t feel like it was going to stick, not when you thought back to his arms wrapped around you and making you feel like a precious gem.

“I’ll keep what you’ve said in mind,” you acquiesced.

“Good soldier,” Price smiled, leaning over and patting your shoulder.

You swallowed thickly and stood up, feeling your breathing return back to normal. Well that was it then. You weren’t going to be killed on sight and you didn’t have to worry about staring down the bowl of a toilet for the rest of your miserable life.

You both stepped out the doorway and into the light of the hall. You felt dizzy on your feet, but relieved that you were getting away without any punishment. Well, other than the fact that König might be someone to worry about rattling around in the back of your mind, that is. Then again, you had a sneaking suspicion that you’d forget all about it as soon as you were in his company again…

“Remember what I said, Sneaky! Otherwise I’ll let you think about it some more while you’re on your knees scrubbing toilets,” Price said over his shoulder, taking an indulgent sip of his coffee afterwards.

You stopped in your tracks and shared a look with Soap, who’d poked his head out of the kitchen to check on you. Well, maybe you weren’t going to completely forget Price’s warning. His lingering threat would keep you on your toes.

-☠️-

“It seems a little late for you to be out walking,” you noted.

You watched as König whirled around, and went wide eyed when he looked like he might hit you. His fist was drawn back and just when it looked like he was about to swing it - he stopped and let it fall flatly to his side. As soon as he’d scanned his eyes over your shrinking form he went limp immediately.

“Scheiße! Where the hell did you come from?” he cursed.

You took a moment to recover but eventually found your heartbeat returning to its regular rhythm and swallowed, relaxing your shoulders soon after. That was close. You assumed he’d have known you were sitting there on the wall, he always seemed to have a hyper awareness of you as if he was some kind of bat. Though his echolocation must have failed for once, you’d been too obscured by the untrimmed tree branches that had surrounded you, most likely.

“I-I come out and sit here sometimes, its nice to look at the stars.”

König regarded the wall you were sitting on, just a low down thing made of worn stone and his head followed where it stretched down the road. It cut off the pavement from the small scatty park inside. Then when he looked back at you with his twinkling azure eyes, those eyes that had you forgetting all about the near miss that just happened, you finally got to take him in properly. You watched him as he settled next to you on your makeshift seat.

Two things struck you all at once. Firstly, König was wearing a neck warmer instead of his usual sniper hood, probably so he wouldn’t scare any civilians more than a hulking giant like himself normally would, it was drawn way up to the bridge of his nose, but nevertheless you knew it was him under there. And next - the mess of shaggy dirty-blonde hair on top of his head. You had to fight the urge not to ask if you could run your hands through it. It was like putting a moth in front of a thousand watt bulb. You ached to feel the fuzz of his faded sides and get to rearrange the chaotic locks above that sprawled in every direction.

“You’re staring.”

You bit your lip as he said it, and looked away guiltily. Oh fuck. It’s not like it could be helped though, this was the most you’d gotten to see of him. He was always so covered up and burdened by gear you could barely make out the man from the material - and now you were getting to see what was basically a visual buffet of König. It wasn’t fair. You could look at every inch of him that he’d let you see all day.

“Sorry,” you finally breathed out. “I just- uh was surprised is all.”

“Why?” he smirked, eyes crinkling as he stared right back.

“Didn’t think you’d be blonde,” you say, thinking blessedly quickly.

“What is it they say? Blondes have more fun?” he chuckled, coming to sit on the wall next to you.

You snorted and looked away from him again. Even though you’d been talking for a while now, his silly humour could still surprise you, especially when you recalled the way everyone acted around him, as if he’d bite them if they got too close. It was like getting to see a tiger roll onto his stomach when no one else was around.

“How come you don’t wear that around the base?” you asked, tilting your head at him.

“Why would I? I can wear my hood there without getting questioned about it.”

“But isn’t it less stuffy with the neck warmer?” You ask, crinkling your nose at the thought of being trapped under that heavy material all day.

“Yes, but it’s as though I can physically feel people's eyes cutting into me when I wear this - or nothing. The staring is too much.”

You pause for a second and laugh at yourself, feeling a little more embarrassed.

“...Like I was just doing to you there.”

König laughs a little with you, but after a second he shakes his head and breaths out into the frigid night air. The skies had been dark for a little while by that point and the light of the moon was bright and shiny, reflecting in König’s eyes like a gleaming pearl. It was probably the first time you ever recalled admiring the moon that much.

“I didn't feel like I was being dissected by you, no.”

You felt a little tingle run rogue down your arm. So he didn’t mind you looking at him? You smiled a little wider to yourself and tried to conceal it with a scratch of your cheek.

“Really? Why’s that?” You asked, feeling a little brave.

“You stare at me all the time, I’m used to it.”

Instantly it felt as if the air had caught fire and was charring you into oblivion. He’d caught you? Why hadn’t he said anything before? You opened your mouth ready to come up with some kind of silly excuse, too flustered to think of something good. Though he interrupts you before you can get a sound out.

“I didn't mean to embarrass you, I find it endearing,” he soothed.

“What? Why?” you ask dumbly.

“The way you look - with your wide doe eyes…” he says trailing off.

Now he cant look at you. His head turns away. You can't speak either, so you're both left frozen in place.

“The way you’re looking at me now,” he finally says.

“Maybe I just can’t stop staring at your messy hair,” you chuckle, trying to awkwardly change the subject. “Someone should fix that for you.”

“Does someone want to?” he asks, his brows setting as he tilts his chin.

Oh no. You bite your lip feeling like your body’s going to astrally project onto another planet. Was this really happening? Did he actually just give you permission to touch him, no, run your hands through his hair?

Part of you wants to laugh him off and prevent any embarrassment when he turns around and says he was kidding, says you’re a weirdo for wanting to touch him like that. Your mind starts going down avenues of all the awful things he could say about the little freak that looks at him too much, but then the sane part of your mind kicks and acts as a buffer stop, halting the run away anxiety train. König would never do that to you.

You were far too used to dealing with Ghost and Soap, and all of their stupid teasing. But even then, not even they would do something so cruel.

“I do,” you murmur.

König nods and leans forward and closes his eyes, giving you what little advantage he can with the amount of height he has on you. At first, you’re incredulous that you’re in a real life scenario and not locked into a fantasy seven layers deep, but you quickly give up that idea and decide to tentatively reach out. You’re too excited not to take the opportunity.

Your hand shakes a little at first as you make contact with his soft hair, and immediately you think of the devil dog your neighbour used to have when you were a kid. It was a huge old thing that barked like a foghorn, but once it got to know you, it would roll over and present its downy fur and you could spend hours at a time running your hands through it. Now, though, it’s not the scary shepherd you’re taming, it’s König.

He sits perfectly still while you sort through all the strands, smoothing them back and fixing them into place. You swear you can hear soft groans coming from him, but they’re so quiet you could be mistaken. That, and you’re too mesmerised by the task at hand, forming his hood mussed hair into a style.

When you’re done and his hair is mostly settled - apart from a small cow lick you can’t seem to fix - you can’t help but run your fingers over the fuzz on the side of his head. Immediately he shivers like a harsh breeze has rolled in, surprising you, but when he snaps his eyes open they don’t look annoyed like you worry he is, instead he looks ready to pin you down and take you right there against the wall.

“That felt very nice,” he said softly, blown out pupils shifting away from you as he straightened.

You’re not sure what to say, you just smile and bite your lip, keeping your eyes fixed on him. You know rightly that your pupils are just as wide as his, you can practically feel the explosion that’s going on. You want him.

“König I… I uh-“

Footsteps sounding from nearby, crunching up the leaf littered pavement, interrupt all your thoughts and both of you turn your heads as someone walks up to you both. You hold in a breath, feeling like you’d scream otherwise and watch as a face comes into view from out of the shadows.

Mercifully it’s not Ghost or Soap that marches up to you, it’s Gaz.He’d been the only one not to completely batter the dead ‘Sneaky and König up a tree’ horse. He stops when he sees you both and his eyes widen as he spots König, probably just as shocked as you were when he realised he can see his face. Though, he quickly averts his eyes and looks at you instead, awkwardly shifting his hands in his hoodie pocket.

“Captain said to tell you we’ve got an early start tomorrow,” he says looking at you pointedly , “we’ve got a briefing at four. Said you best get all the sleep you can.”

“Oh…do you know anything about it?” You ask, still feeling a bit breathless from before.

“From what I gather, the 141 and KorTac are heading out together, but I don’t know much beyond that,” he shrugs.

You give a sideways glance to König and watch as he regards you the same way. That meant you’d be working together for the first time. You take a breath and look back at Gaz, finally nodding your head.

“Thanks for coming to let me know, I’ll head in in a minute,” you assure him.

Gaz nods back curtly and turns on his heel, retreating to the base again and leaving you alone in the only silence. You finally look back at König, only once you’re sure there’s no one lurking around and looking to catch you with him, and smile softly.

“Looks like we’ll be working together then,” you laugh awkwardly.

“Seems like it,” he replies, lowering his head. “Perhaps we should listen to the captain’s advice and head in.”

You feel a stab of disappointment tear through your heart immediately. You’d wanted to resume things from where you’d left off. You wanted to pull back the cloth from his face and kiss him under the stars as if they were watching and you were the only ones there. There were fireworks and sparklers going off in your mind, but now they were being snuffed out as you watched König stand up from your not so secret spot.

“Come on, you need your rest,” he insists, holding out his hand.

You raise your eyebrows, but put your hand in his and rise as he guides you up. Even with you standing, he towers above you. It’s especially noticeable as you stand so close to him, almost pressed to his big wide chest. There’s a snapping creature in your mind that distantly wishes to jump onto him and kiss him, but you beat the thought back and look away from König instead.

“Hey,” he says softly, tilting your head back with his rough gloved fingers. “I want to pick things back up too, but…not before a mission. We can do this again after all that. Yeah?”

You gulp, feeling your spine light on fire with tingles. Did he just acknowledge that things were about to go further there? So he definitely felt the same as you…

“Makes sense,” you murmur, feeling your desperation roll off you in waves.

He is speaking sense, but you don’t want him to be.

“You can fix my hair for me again when we get back,” he teases, rubbing his finger against your jaw again. “I’m sure it will be very messy.”

“Am I your stylist now?” You smirk, feeling your mood lift.

“Amongst other things,” he says, eyes showing the smile that was surely on his lips.

You raise your eyebrows and just as you’re about to ask what things, he silences you with what he does next. He leans down and brings his lips to your cheek, and through his mask, kisses you.

You freeze in place, your heart thudding like it’ll explode and close your eyes. You can’t believe what just happened. You laugh a little to yourself - letting loose a giggle and open your eyes, watching as he smiles back at you and gestures his hand back to base.

“To be continued,” you whisper to yourself.

-☠-

Next Part Here

#König #König x reader #könig fanfiction #modern warfare 2 #modern warfare fanfiction #mw2

8K notes · View notes

junkissed · 4 months

Text

pro bono

member — lawyer!wonwoo x lawyer!reader genre — smut, fwb to ?? word count — 1.1k synopsis — you and your coworker jeon wonwoo have been working on this case for months. now that it's finally over, he shows you that "for the public good" doesn't mean that he can't be good for you, too. aka: lawyer wonwoo fucking coworker reader after winning a case smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, prone bone (the title is a pun hehe), creampie (shocker i know!), spanking, hair pulling, dacryphilia, mirror sex, coworkers fwb!wonu, gratuitous descriptions of how wide wonu's shoulders are just because i can notes — requested by @junhuisms sorry this took so long bff </3 — lots of love to @onlymingyus for proofreading !! — probably some legal inaccuracies bc i know nothing about the law i'm just here to fuck the hot man so go easy on me pls. i really meant for this to be a longer fic but it's been in my docs for almost a year and i've been trying to not pressure myself to write a certain amount so i hope this is still able to live up to your expectations :) i know i've been pretty mia recently but i'm trying to get back into the swing of things so feedback is super super appreciated! hope you enjoy! note #2 — tumbly still hates me and is super finnicky about putting my posts in the tags so i haven't been able to use my regular divider image bc it bugs out :(( i've tried everything i'm sorry but pls lmk how you like this new one!

you’d been working on this case for months, and it had been one to make or break your career. weeks upon weeks of research, reviewing documents and studying laws to make sure your arguments were seamless.

the upside to all this work, however, was that you got to know your coworker wonwoo better, who you’d been assigned to work on the case with. and by “get to know him,” what you really meant was “get railed every night after work”.

and tonight, after the trial had wrapped up and the court’s final decision had ruled in your favor, you found yourself where you’d grown accustomed to spending all your nights: in his penthouse apartment, and more specifically, in his bed.

the floor-length mirror in his room was one of your favorite things, because no matter what position you were in or how you were angled, you could always see wonwoo. see his broad shoulders, see his muscles flexing, see his abs tensing right before he cums; and god, it drives you crazy.

but it drives him even more crazy as he fucks you into his mattress, watching in the mirror’s reflection how your eyes are squeezed shut and tears stream down your cheeks onto his pillowcase.

it’s one of his favorite positions, as you’ve learned over the past few months, to have you lying flat on your stomach as he fucks you from behind. with your body at this angle, he can get so much deeper into you, you can practically feel it in your stomach, and with only just a handful of thrusts he can make you fall apart on his cock in a matter of seconds.

tonight, however, it’s taken less than that to make you cum. the pride of winning the case has him on a high, and he barely even needed to get you stretched out first. but he did anyway, his face buried between your thighs for what felt like eternity until you were pushing his head away and begging him to stop teasing.

you yelp as he twists his hand in your hair, yanking your neck back so you can see your reflection in the mirror.

your eyelids droop heavily, jaw hanging open as wonwoo meets your eyes in the mirror. “you see how well i fuck you, baby?” he groans, squeezing your hip with his other hand. “taking it so fucking well… i’ve fucked you stupid, haven’t i?”

all you can manage is a moan as tears begin to form in your eyes from the pleasure. you whimper quietly, noises muffled by the pillow as you struggle to catch your breath in between thrusts. you can already feel the burn of another orgasm in the pit of your stomach, and wonwoo’s hands pushing down on your lower back are making it impossible to hold back.

“my good girl,” he coos and he lets go of his hand in your hair, barely giving you a chance to catch yourself as your head falls forward and back down onto the pillow. “don’t hold back those pretty sounds. let everybody hear how you like to celebrate your wins. you deserve it, baby.”

“just as much a win for you— as it is for me,” you manage to gasp out. you struggle to keep your eyes open but you force yourself to, determined to see the way his face contorts in the mirror. his eyebrows furrow as he adjusts the angle of his hips, staring down at your ass, back arching into him and forcing his cock deeper with every stroke.

he leans down over you, caging your body with his own, his mouth brushing against the back of your neck. “we both know you did most of the work. and this… this is your reward.”

“wonwoo—” you moan out brokenly as his hands knead your ass roughly, grabbing at your skin and spreading you apart so he can push into you with more force. you clench around him and he curses, his hips starting to stutter.

without warning he pulls out, rolling you over onto your back. you whine at the sudden loss and at the ache in your muscles, but wonwoo just leans forward over your body to kiss you and suddenly you forget everything you were thinking about. you’re so caught up in his mouth on yours and his hands sliding over your body that you barely even notice when he pushes his cock back into you, never breaking away from your lips as he starts out a steady rhythm, gradually building back up to his pace from earlier.

finally he pulls away, sitting up to put his hands on the back of your thighs and push your legs up to your chest. your breath catches in your throat with each thrust, your mind reeling as you concentrate on the feeling of him so deep inside you, pressing against that sweet spot over and over again.

his broad chest is the only thing that fills your vision as you cum, and your brain barely registers the words that leave his mouth in that deep, gravelly voice you’ve become accustomed to hearing nearly every night.

“taking every inch so fucking well,” he grunts, forehead glistening with sweat. “god, you look so good taking my cock.” his movements become more and more desperate as he starts to chase his high, his fingers digging into your skin so roughly to the point that you know you’ll find bruises there in the morning.

still breathing heavily, you whine out his name one last time, sending him over the edge right behind you in a matter of seconds. he lets out a guttural groan, continuing to snap his hips frantically as your walls squeeze around his throbbing cock.

⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄⠂⠁⠁⠂⠄⠄

wonwoo chuckles, handing you your purse and helping you shrug your coat on as you attempt to wipe the smudged mascara from your cheeks with your thumbs.

“same time, monday night?” you ask as he walks you down the hall to the elevator, holding the doors open with one hand.

he nods, not even making an attempt to hide the grin on his face. “you keep winning cases like you did today, and you might as well just move in. save you the trouble of calling a taxi every night.”

you laugh, knowing he’s not serious but your heart races at the thought anyway. “you keep fucking me like that, and i might take you up on that offer.”

he hums and raises his eyebrows, but you can tell he’s pleased. “i knew having that mirror installed was a good investment.”

you might not be getting paid for taking on pro bono cases, but just knowing that you’re helping people makes up for it. and of course, the compensation you get from your coworker is more than enough to keep you coming back for more.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

taglist | @wonderfulshinee @noniestars @photographic-girl @onlymingyus @just-here-to-read-01 @darlingvernon @wonuziex @enhacolor @yourfavoritefreakyhan @dkakapizzaboy @zozojella @rainyjeno @jwnghyuns @uwuheeseungie @miriamxsworld @synthetickitsune @simeonswhore @junhour @foxdaisy @limesorbets @98-0603 @fairybinie @anthropologymajorkpopmultistan @mingminghao @jeanjacketjesus @luvwonyy @tinkerbell460 @novalpha @ronnie97b @ohmygodwhyareallusernamestaken @usari @hyneyedfiz @honestlydooetree @ktackore @k-drama-adict @cloecard @valentxi @aaniag @aaasia111 @hyneyedfiz

strikethrough means your blog cannot be tagged, please check your visibility settings and make sure they are off so i can tag you properly!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

#1k #kvanity #kflixnet #k-labels #caratlibrary #[📌] — june.writes #wonwoo smut #svt smut #seventeen smut #wonwoo x reader #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo scenarios #svt scenarios #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fanfic #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen scenarios

1K notes · View notes

yzashaven · 8 months

Text

2023 KINKTOBER︰10﹒01 / 10﹒02

꒰ —♡ B R E E D I N G ﹒ PART 1 ꒱

EVENT MASTERLIST !

FEATURING ! ayato, xiao, diluc, kuronushi x fem!reader

WARNINGS ! breeding obviously, shibari, some anal, cum overflow :0, overstimulation, praising, think that's all + VERY SHORT HELP

NOTE ! like only one of these were proofread LMAO anyway~ splitting this into 2 because i couldn't make the time to finish all 8 of the characters 😭 + THANK YOU FOR 700?!?!?! + sorry to those i couldn't tag :( and for posting this late omg

event taglist— @yukiitaooo @scara6 @peakalatus @kanaedd @returningluv @im-the-ruler-here @scarafixation @kateybuggi @hanni7 @asimpforpeople @ju1yyyzzz @saturnsapothecary @alexiassleeping @cheeze-noo @supercoolusernameomg @shining_dhei @uchihaeirin @black-rxse @3herri-berri @anon-eu @gojoswife201 @abeitriz @chlebek1 @mechanical-lily @breadybuu @dawning-bliss @poisonedmoonl1ght @scaraismybbgreal @nothingfuninthislife @hellithides @eunchaeluvr @doumastip @pandash @cuntz0ne @zomzomb1e @bitchylillyrose @apocalypticchimera @wolfiafan10 @zxdksimpo

—KAMISATO AYATO

he's a very family oriented man, you're well aware of that, so of course it's no surprise that breeding is one of the commissioner's top kinks. even just the mere thought of filling up your cute little cunt with his seed is enough to drive him insane.

"you're gonna give me an heir, yeah? right, my love?" ayato seductively whispered into your ear as you tiredly nod your head in approval. he has been pounding into you nonstop for the past 2 hours or so, filling you up with his cum over and over again, making sure that it'll reach your womb. "you feel so good~ this is your reward for being such a good girl for me, so take it. take it all~" his thrusts begin to quicken, urging yet another orgasm for him and yourself before grabbing your ankles to bring your legs over onto his shoulders; allowing him to push his dick even deeper than it was already reaching previously.

"fuck—i'm sorry for pushing your limits, sweetheart, but i won't waste my chance in finally getting to breed you real nice~"

—XIAO

him being a yaksha and practically spending his whole life fighting; xiao never really got to know or experience much when it comes to intimacy. but god, the moment you stepped into his life, it became the thing he couldn't live without.

"o-one more, please..." he groans out, thrusting deep into you at a slow pace, his tip kissing at your cervix ever so slightly. your whimpers and pleas falling onto deaf ears as his gaze was fixated on the way your thighs trembled under his touch as his hands kept your legs spread wide just for him, drunk on the sight of his cock disappearing within your warmth with each buck of his hips. an obvious squelching sound could be heard along with the mix of your fluids overflowing from the sides, "if i pull out, it'll all go to waste, won't it?" xiao mutters out, pulling back until only the head of his cum coated cock remained, just to slam back inside and have you scream his name for the nth time that evening.

"this won't be enough, baby... need to fill you up some more~"

—DILUC RAGNVINDR

trust me when i say that breeding is one of his top kinks, probably around the top 3, i'm sure of it :3 he just adores how pretty you look taking every single drop of his seed; the way you look so perfectly fucked out is enough to bring another feeling of euphoria to him.

"m-my love, so pretty~" diluc's eyes were focused on your trembling figure beneath him, cunt already completely full of his cum yet he's still pumping more and more inside for 'good measure' as per his words. "i know you're tired, i'm sorry—you feel too good for me to... pull out-ah~" the sensitive head of his cock kissed all the deepest parts of you with ease; giving you so much more pleasure, along with the way he was constantly pushing his cum back inside further.

"...so perfect for me, my good girl~"

—KURONUSHI

shibari. his specialty, his favorite. he decided to try a new position instead of the usual mating press you two did; having you situated on the bed with your ass up and face buried in the pillows while your wrists were bound by a red ribbon behind your back.

"that's it, keep moaning for me like that~" kuronushi coos, hips slamming against your body as his cock thrusted in and out of your ass at a steady rhythm, fingers rubbing roughly at your swollen clit, continuing to drive you over the edge. "fuck—your voice truly is the best instrument~ and your moans... the most majestic melody i've ever heard~" he says in between uneven breaths before finally cumming inside you, abruptly pulling out and pushing into your already filled to the brim cunt, a dark chuckle escaping his lips upon hearing you moan at the sudden entrance.

"just made sure to fill up both of your holes, love~"

#♡.･ signed by yza ✰°｡⋆#♡.･ occasions ✰°｡⋆#genshin smut #genshin x reader #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x reader #kuronushi smut #kuronushi x reader #ayato smut #ayato x reader #xiao smut #xiao x reader #diluc smut #diluc x reader

2K notes · View notes

kkami-writes · 10 months

Text

that hufflepuff boy

pairing. hufflepuff!felix x slytherin!fem!reader ft! hufflepuff!bangchan, slytherin!seungmin, ravenclaw!hyunjin synopsis. The moment you stepped into the halls of Hogwarts your classmates had deemed you as the princess of slytherin, a title you learned to hate. If only they knew that the cold, seemingly proper girl was absolutely head over heels for Hufflepuff's resident sunshine boy, Lee Felix. tags/cw. hogwarts!au, fluff, maybe some angst if you squint, lots and lots of mutual pining, acquaintances to lovers, side seungjin, smut, slight corruption, public sex (library), virgin!felix, oral (m + f receiving), vaginal fingering, pet names (princess, love), unprotected sex (don't do it), swallowing of cum

disclaimer!!! both felix and reader are 18+, consenting adults at the time of smut. word count. 5k (5,155)

The first time you had met Felix is during third year, on a random spring morning as the two of you were paired up during potions. It had been a rough first three years for you as the nickname of Slytherin’s princess had been pushed upon you solely based on your parents' old-fashioned views. Even in this more progressive time, there were still a fair amount of pure-blood purists despite it being an unpopular stance after the second wizarding war.

Still, people had assumed you had thought the same as your parents and being sorted into slytherin hadn’t helped your case. Reluctantly, you instead fell into your role as the prim and proper princess they thought you were - no one had ever bothered to even ask if you could think for yourself or had your own opinions. Although you did have a few actual friends, the isolation you had felt from your peers had made you slightly bitter.

So when you’re paired up with a random hufflepuff who gives you the brightest smile you’ve ever seen, one that could easily rival the sun - you’re a little starstruck. You don’t think anyone has ever looked at you like this and it easily makes your cheeks darken. He treats you like a normal person, as if you were already friends and it’s…refreshing to say the least. The last person you got partnered up with had sat as far away from you as they could and didn’t talk unless absolutely necessary.

You’re surprised that you work well with the boy, him making small conversation and keeping you engaged in the potion work. Felix is nice, almost too nice, and you’re sure he’s like this with everyone but you still feel a surge of happiness when he laughs at one of your small jabs. You can’t help but think the sound is just as sweet as him.

As class ends, you’re packing up your books and Felix waves goodbye to you with that pretty smile on display.

“Bye! I hope we can talk again!” Then he’s gone and you’re left sitting there a little dazed as you stare at his retreating figure, something stirring in your chest that you’re not 100% sure of, but you do know one thing.

And it’s that Felix is made up of sugar, everything nice and sun kissed freckles, and you’re pretty sure you’re fucked.

By fifth year you had fully recognized that the flowers blooming your chest was pure adoration for the hufflepuff. You had been sitting in the library with Seungmin, who was busy with his nose in a book and blatantly ignoring your obvious heart eyes towards a certain boy who sat not too far away at his own table; him and his quidditch captain Chan were probably going over some strategies for the upcoming game this weekend. Hyunjin was on your left, the ravenclaw busy with another one of his drawings he often did.

You let out a small dreamy sigh, one that was barely audible but it was enough to have your fellow slytherin rolling his eyes and closing his book. “Are you for real? You look so pathetic…how long have you been pining over that hufflepuff for?” He groans, throwing his head back.

“Aw, I think it’s kinda cute,” Hyunjin chimes in, not looking up from his drawing.

“That’s because you’re a hopeless romantic,”

“Ok mister I read romance novels,” At this Seungmin’s ears tinge red and you think he might throw his book at the male. They thought you were annoying with your crush? They should look at themselves. With Seungmin thinking he was slick with his hidden gazes towards the ravenclaw or the many sketches Hyunjin had of the slytherin.

“Can you two shut up? I’m busy pining over here,” They both roll their eyes at you now.

“Honestly? I’m surprised he’s your type. I thought someone like Minho hyung was your type,”

“It’s because Felix is the only one willing to give yn any time of the day,” You swat at Hyunjin for that and he simply clutches his arm dramatically, whining your name.

As you play fight with your friends (was it really playing though? The three of you were probably gonna get kicked out of the library soon), it goes unnoticed by you that someone else had been staring a little too long over at your table, his eyes sparkling as he watched you interact with the two who were usually never seen without you. He’s pulled from his thoughts as his own best friend and quidditch captain Chan nudged him from his tiny daydream.

“You good mate? You've been staring at her for a while. We are supposed to be going over strategies,” He teases lightly as he watches Felix’s ears turn a little red.

“Um, right. Sorry! I’ll focus, I promise,” Chan laughs, his signature dimples showing as he ruffles up the blonde’s hair.

“It’s fine, I should probably go study for my n.e.w.t.s anyway and we have practice tomorrow so we can go over more stuff,” Felix nods, agreeing with him before his gaze is once again glancing over towards you and it looks like you’re about to strangle Seungmin, while Hyunjin holds you back by your robes with a bored look on his face. He can’t help but laugh at your guy’s ministrations - he loved that you had slowly come out of your shell since third year and had found some good friends.

Well, at least he hoped they were just friends. He wouldn’t go as far to say the two of you were friends either, just acquaintances, mostly talking to each other in the halls when you passed by or occasionally partnering up during class. But Felix still did not have the guts to ask you out on a date, the fear of rejection controlling him. Chan is nudging him again and he’s pulled out of yet another daydream.

“Damn, you’ve got it bad huh? You’ve barely even talked to her for the last two years,” “Hey, that’s not true!! I say hi to her everytime I see her in the hall!”

“Uh huh. Why are you so interested in her anyway? Aren’t her parents blood-purists? I don’t think they’d approve of a muggleborn, no offense. And she is called the slytherin princess for a reason,”

“Yeah but she’s not like that,” Felix is quick to defend you, not that he really thought Chan believed in those kinds of rumors - he was just curious about his crush.

“How do you know?” “Just- okay in third year, I remember everyone telling me to beware of the ‘slytherin princess’” he makes quotations with his fingers. “That she was cold and mean and definitely would not be nice to a muggleborn like me. But then we got partnered together during potions and she was really nice? And funny? I just thought you know, that she couldn’t be that bad. Plus! Seungmin and Hyunjin are both half-bloods, and they’re like her best friends. When we talk, just the two of us, she’s kinda shy to be honest. It’s cute and all but, when I see her like that,” Felix points to you, who is laughing hard at a joke Seungmin had said, both you and Hyunjin holding onto each other as you wheeze. The librarian shushes you loudly and gives the three of you yet another warning, only one away from getting kicked out. “When she’s alone with her friends she blossoms into this really bubbly and bright personality and I just - I want to be able to bring out that side of her when she’s with me. I wanna be able to get to know her more…you know…maybe ask her on a date,” He flushes at that and Chan lets out a low whistle that gets his own little hush from the librarian.

“Yeah, you are down atrocious my man. I think it’s time to put on your big boy pants. You should ask her out, after the hufflepuff vs slytherin game. After we win you can ask if she wants to go celebrate,”

“Oh..that might be a good idea. She always comes to the games for Seungmin. But wait, what if we lose?”

(Felix will later find out that you had only ever attended the Hufflepuff vs Slytherin games just so you could watch him, something Seungmin always complained and pouted about. “I’M your best friend! You should be watching for me!! Not that stupid pretty Hufflepuff,” “So you admit he’s pretty?”

“I fucking hate you,” ) “Then you ask her if she’ll take you on a date so you can get over this horrific loss we have faced,”

“That…makes me sound like a loser,” Chan just shrugs.

“Listen, if it gets you a date who cares,”

“Ok, yeah. You’re right. First, we’re gonna stomp Slytherin into the ground. And then- I’m gonna ask her out,”

Felix did not in fact put on his big boy pants on. While they had in fact won the game, he had frozen when you hopped over to him, a pretty smile on your face as you congratulated him on the win. His mind blanked, head empty as he just stared at how pretty you looked and how he wished he could give you his Hufflepuff scarf for you to wear. He wanted you to cheer for him during his quidditch games. He thinks you’d look breathtaking in yellow.

But instead he said a quick ‘thanks!’ before running away, face completely red and leaving you behind with a small disappointed look on your face.

By seventh year, you were no closer to being over your infatuation with the pretty freckled Hufflepuff. Even though you had dated other people here and there, no one could compare to the way your heart reacted whenever you talked to Felix briefly in the halls.

Still, you had slightly given up hope that the boy would reciprocate your feelings. Afterall, he had shown no signs of being into you - despite what Seungmin and Hyunjin had told you. You were still scared of rejection, that he wouldn’t be interested in a Slytherin like yourself, much less one still dubbed the princess of snakes.

Yet Felix continued to treat you the same as always, greeting you in the hallways with that sweet smile of his and it never failed to put butterflies in your stomach.

So when you’re paired up for a project in potions again, you can’t help the excitement that builds in your chest. It’s a more extensive project, requiring you to brew a particularly complex potion, needing to do research in the restricted section as well as write an essay.

“Hey!” Felix greets you with that devastating smile and you pretend you’re not melting on the inside. His voice had gotten so deep and that blasted australian accent was constantly trying to make your knees buckle when you heard it. You can see Seungmin in your peripheral vision, pretending to gag over how pathetic you look face to face with your crush. Subtly you flip him off and you can hear his infectious laugh as he walks out of the classroom, probably off to find Hyunjin.

“Hi Felix,”

“So, when are you free to work on the project?” “Honestly whenever you’re free, I know practice must keep you busy captain,” At the title his cheeks flush involuntarily, scratching his cheek shyly. Oh what you wouldn’t give to kiss his beautiful freckled cheeks.

“Yeah well, Seungmin has been keeping us on our toes. He’s always been good at strategy and as captain he’s really proved himself. But besides practice I'm pretty free too. We have practice on Wednesdays and Fridays. So we could do the project this weekend? If you want of course, we could pick another day if you want,”

“Nope, this weekend sounds perfect,”

“Great, wanna meet at the library at one?”

You nod and he gives you a small smile before bidding you goodbye. And that’s how you end up with a study date with one Lee Felix. (Neither of you had said the word date but you could dream and live in your delusions for a while. At least before Seungmin pulls you back down from the clouds.)

Saturday comes much faster than you expect and you take almost half the morning preparing yourself - perhaps taking a little extra time on your makeup and hair. Of course you make sure not to go too overboard, just accentuating your features a little more, wanting to impress the way too pretty Hufflepuff.

Even though you show up to the library ten minutes early, you’re surprised to find Felix already there with a book open and taking notes. When he looks up to see you his expression brightens up significantly, waving you over quickly. He’s rendered you speechless with a simple look and you can feel those annoying butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

“Sorry did I keep you waiting? I thought I was early,” You say as you take a seat next to him, pulling out your own notes and potion textbook.

“Oh no, don’t worry. I uh- got here early to get us a spot next to the restricted section,” Your head nods in understanding as you bite back a laugh, the library practically empty due to it being a Saturday.

After some brief small talk, the two of you get into researching the potion, taking extensive notes on how to properly brew the concoction without causing your cauldron to explode. It was a tricky potion, requiring absolute perfection in order to work.

Somehow during your silent period of individual research, Felix had managed to scoot as close to you as possible, thighs pressed together and you thought your heart might leap out of your chest. You can smell the hint of his floral cologne and the urge to bury your face into the crook of his neck is overwhelming.

The two of you stay like that for a while before you close your textbook, stretching out your arms and flexing your hands from writing too much.

“Shall we check out the restricted section? I think i’ve read all that I can in our textbook,”

“Yeah, same! This potion is gonna be a pain in the ass,”

“Tell me about it. I’m not exactly looking forward to actually brewing it,”

“Can’t be that bad, I’ll get to do it with you,” And there it is, those damn butterflies making another appearance. You flush before clearing your throat, moving towards the restricted section, having already gotten permission from your teacher and the librarian. Felix can’t help but find the blush on your cheeks beautiful.

The two of you moved to start to browse the new section, looking for specifics on the ingredients needed for the more intense potion that you would have to brew. Your eyes skim through the shelves, noting some of the more interesting books that you might have to take a closer look at later, specifically a fun book on jinxes that you could probably use against Seungmin who was always trying to create new spells to tease you with. And on the rare occasion the two of you would team up to bully Hyunjin instead, especially when he was bragging about acing a test he didn’t even bother studying for. It would have to wait for now as you spotted an old potioneering book that looked promising on the top shelf. Reaching for it, you cursed at how short you were - even standing on your tiptoes didn’t help as you extended your fingers as much as you could.

Suddenly you can feel a firm chest pressed to your back and a hand resting on your hip, another hand coming to grab the book you were trying to get. Your heart thumps against your ribcage at the close proximity of Felix, trying not to think about how his body feels as its pressed flush against your back or the grip on your hips as he steadies you. Slowly you turn around in his grasp, blinking up at him as he practically has you up against the bookcase, caging you in. Felix is also looking at you, an uncharacteristically serious expression on his face and the potion book in his hand. It feels like you’ve been standing there forever, both of you just getting lost in each other's eyes and you wonder how many constellations you could draw against his freckles. The way you want to count just how many he has or if he had more in other places as well. Your eyes widen when the hand that was resting on your hip is suddenly moving up to cup your cheek and you wonder if he can see the way you flush under the dim lighting of the library.

“Can I kiss you?” The deep timbre of his voice never fails to send shivers down your spine or heat into your stomach. You nod even though you really wanna say ‘hell yes’, you manage to hold back and not embarrass yourself, especially now when he’s asked something you’ve wanted to do since third year.

His lips feel plush against your own, and you vaguely wonder if this was real. If Lee Felix was really here, kissing you sweet and softly like you were the most precious and delicate object in his hands. It’s a short simple kiss and you almost go to chase his lips when he pulls back, but you don’t have to worry as he doesn’t keep you waiting too long. He drops the book to be forgotten, as he brings his other hand to fully frame your face and kisses you square on the mouth. Your head tilts as he deepens the kiss, lips molding perfectly together.

His tongue is swiping along the seam of your lips, asking for permission which you happily grant, tiers parting for him so he can lick at your own wet muscle. You can’t help the blissful sigh that falls from your lips and Felix all but eagerly swallows the noise, his pink tongue exploring every inch of you that he can. He has you fully pressed against the bookshelf now, your bodies slotted together, as if two puzzle pieces had been connected and you can start to feel something hard being pressed against your hips.

You can barely even focus on that with how dizzy the kiss is making you feel (though it’s possible it’s the lack of air as you’ve basically forgotten how to breathe). Teasingly you nip at his lower lip, sucking it into your mouth and he all but lets out a deep groan that makes you wetter than you’d like to admit. Eventually you both part for air, the two of you practically panting, lips slick with each other. You’re licking at your swollen lips, still able to taste him on your tongue as a thought pops into your head. You move to place your hands on Felix’s hips, maneuvering him so you’re the one who has him pressed against the bookshelf. He tilts his head and looks at you inquisitively, and you can’t help but coo at how cute he looks, especially with slightly reddened cheeks and completely kiss bitten lips.

It’s only when you move down to your knees does he understand what you’re doing, him scrambling to try to pull you back up but you don’t budge.

“A-ah! W-wait. What are you do-” He falters as he watches you glance up at him through your lashes, sweet innocent eyes looking up at him. Just the sight of you like this, looking so pretty on your knees for him makes his dick twitch in his pants, trying to swallow the lump in his throat.

You place your hands on his thighs, running them up until your fingers are playing with the zipper of his trousers and he watches as your tongue darts out to dampen your already slick lips. “Is this ok?” You question simply, watching as Felix’s resolve crumbles, nodding his head.

With permission you’re quick to undo his pants, only pulling them down to expose his already hard cock. His dick is somehow pretty, yet it doesn’t surprise you - everything about the boy was just so pretty. You lean in to press small teasing kisses to his length, keeping eye contact with the Hufflepuff. Felix doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you, so entranced by you. As much as you’d love to tease him, to build him up until he was begging for you - the two of you weren’t exactly in a private space, so you’d have to do it another time (god you hoped there would be another time). You part your lips to take the head into your mouth and it has Felix gasping already, his head falling back against the bookcase and his hands finding purchase in your hair. You hollow your cheeks as you suck softly, his natural musky scent was mixing with the floral cologne he had put on and it was all so heady, making you slightly lightheaded.

He’s completely lost in the way your mouth feels against his hard length, warm and wet, and he’s scared to finish too fast like some virgin (even though that’s exactly what he was). Yet he can’t stop you, blunt nails grasping at your silky locks as you blow him, eliciting a moan from you that vibrates against his cock. His bottom lip is between his teeth in an attempt to stop any embarrassing noises from escaping.

Except when you’ve got his whole cock down your throat, choking on it slightly has a deep moan slipping from his lips. He’s looking down at you through half-lidded eyes, pupils blown and hazy with lust, the sight of you with your mouth absolutely stuffed with his cock has him twitching in your mouth. You can taste his salty precum in the back of your throat, desperate to see what his release will taste like.

“Ah…fuck. Princess you look so pretty like this…’m gonna cum,” He grunts softly and he can’t help the small buck of his hips into your mouth.

You definitely weren’t expecting the nickname, but you found yourself liking it MUCH more when it was coming from Felix. You open your mouth with your tongue lolling out when he tells you he’s close, blinking up at him and he gets the message. He releases your hair to bring his hand to his cock, stroking it once, twice - before he’s coming thick ropes into your mouth. You patiently wait for him to finish before you’re swallowing his load and you definitely don’t miss the way he groans just from watching you do that. A giggle falls from your lips as you come to stand up and he’s quick to kiss you again, moaning from tasting himself against your swollen tiers.

He’s tucking himself back into his pants but not bothering to redo his pants before he’s once again moving you so he can press you against the bookshelf. It’s your turn to tilt your head in questioning as he moves to kneel down, hands running up your upper thighs until they’re disappearing under your skirt. He loops his fingers into your panties as he looks up at you.

“Can I?” He asks and his eyes are still dark with arousal, completely gone at this point. You nod far too eagerly and he chuckles deeply at how excited you look, slowly dragging your (damp) underwear down, having you step out of them. He slips them into his back pocket with a smirk.

“You’re not getting these back,”

Your mouth is wide with his bold words, wondering where the shy Felix has gone. You don’t really have much time to think more about it before he’s diving under your skirt and attaching his mouth to your wet cunt, a hand coming up to your mouth to muffle the sound that leaves your lips involuntarily. He laps at your core, moaning against you at your taste and the vibrations only aid in your pleasure. You can’t even see him with your skirt completely covering him but you can’t find it in you to even care, the way his tongue is flicking at your clit has you whimpering. His hands are gripping at your hips tightly and you hope that he leaves a mark, a memory of this moment you shared with him.

He has you all but clenching around nothing as his lips suck on your sensitive bud and your back is arching off the bookshelf and your head is thrown back. Soft moans spill from your lips and the sounds go straight to his dick, feeling himself hardening again in his pants. It doesn’t matter though as his focus is on you and he so badly wants you to cum against his tongue. Felix easily slips two fingers into your heat with how slick you are and you let out a soft sigh at the sensation. He’s a little clumsy with them but you’re too far gone to really care, feeling your thighs start to shake and that familiar pressure building in your lower stomach.

“Lix- Lixie. I’m close,” You manage to mumble out, not knowing how much longer you are gonna last, especially with how his skillful tongue continues to work you to your high. With your words he’s once again latching onto your clit with his lips, sucking eagerly and his fingers pushing into you faster. He hums against your core and you’re gone, your rather loud moan muffled by your hand as you’re coming against his face. Felix doesn’t stop lapping at your pussy until you have to push him away, feeling sensitivity starting to build.

When he comes back up he has to hold you up, your legs shaking slightly in the aftermath of your orgasm. He’s quick to have his lips on yours again and you can taste yourself against his tongue. He can tell he’s going to quickly become absolutely addicted to kissing you, your lips so soft against his own. Felix is pressing against you and you can feel that he’s hard again, so you reluctantly pull away to call out to him.

“Felix,” You start, suddenly feeling shy even though you literally just had his dick in your mouth.

“Yes love?” It really feels like he’s trying to kill you with these nicknames but you push through, letting your hips rock against his and he’s biting at his lip hard to stop himself from moaning.

“I want you. So bad. . .need you inside me,”

He seems a little hesitant but he can’t deny the way his dick twitches just at the thought of being buried inside you. How warm and tight you’d feel against his length.

“Are- Are you sure?” You nod. You’ve never been so sure about anything in your life.

“Yes. I-If it’s okay with you,” Still you stress this point, not wanting to pressure him but you’d be lying if you weren’t still absolutely soaked for the boy in front of you.

“How can I say no to you?” He hums, pressing a soft kiss to your lips before slowly turning you around to have you bent forward slightly. You grab onto the bookshelf to ground yourself, biting at your bottom lip as you feel him grinding his clothed cock against your core. You’re about to open your mouth to beg him to stop teasing you but then you feel his tip pressing against your entrance and all thoughts are flying out of your head. Felix is gripping you tightly by the waist and slowly, almost agonizingly slowly he pushes in. You can feel every single inch until he’s completely sheathed in your warmth and the groan he lets out fills your belly with straight heat.

“F-fuck. So good, you feel so good princess,” He groans, his breath heavy as he shakily pulls out just enough so he can easily slide back in, setting a slightly uneven pace but it feels so good that you don’t even care. All you can think about is Felix, the way his hands feel against your skin, how sweet he sounds as he murmurs praises against your ear, the way his cock fills you so nicely - your head is so blissfully empty besides the Hufflepuff and you love it. He angles himself upwards, finding your sweet spot so easily and you clench around him the moment he hits it.

His hips rock languidly into you as he flips your skirt up so he can see the way his cock disappears into your soaked cunt. Felix is so entranced at the way your arousal clings to his length, you’re so wet you’re practically dripping down your thighs and it makes it so much easier to thrust into you. He knows he’s not gonna last very long so he grabs you to pull you flush against his chest, holding you to him as a hand wraps to your front, two fingers rubbing at your clit.

“Lix! Oh- Oh…’m close,” You mumble out, gasping as he holds you against his body, your hips trying to meet his thrusts.

“Yeah? Gonna cum princess? Need you to cum all over my cock. Can you do that love?” He hums into your ear and his voice has you absolutely gone, Felix purposely making it just a little bit deeper. The way his cock is pressing against your gummy g-spot has you seeing stars.

It doesn’t take long until you’re shuddering and coming, your walls spasming around Felix which has him reaching his own orgasm - spilling into you with his warm seed. Both of you are panting hard with you holding onto the bookshelf as if it was your last lifeline, practically the only thing keeping you up with how shaky your knees are.

When he pulls out you whine a little, feeling his cum leaking down your thighs. He watches for a second, seeing his own release dripping from your pussy has a surge of pride filling his chest. After a second he pulls out his wand, muttering a quick spell that cleans you up, thankful that charms had been his best class. You need a bit longer to collect yourself, your head slightly fuzzy from two orgasms.

Felix is busy looking you over, making sure your uniform is neat and smoothing your hair down. It’s all sweet and lowkey domestic, making your heart swell at the Hufflepuff in front of you. He smiles that smile you love and it baffles you how this boy could go from fucking you in the restricted section of the library to this innocent looking sunshine.

He’s coming to cup your face again, leaving a few kisses against your cheeks before kissing your lips.

“So like…I know this is backwards but uh- do you like? Maybe wanna go on a date sometime? And be my girlfriend?”

#stray kids #felix x reader #yongbok x reader #lee felix x reader #felix fluff #felix fic #felix imagines #felix reactions #felix scenarios #felix smut #stray kids smut #stray kids imagines #stray kids reactions #stray kids scenarios #stray kids fluff #stray kids fic #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fanfic

2K notes · View notes

justporo · 7 months

Text

Who's the goose... (2)

...that's on the loose? GOOSETARION! The adventures of Astarion being turned into a goose continue. Will he behave or annoy someone so much that his delicate goose neck will be in danger?

PART 1 | MASTERLIST | AO3

Author's Note: So, here we are... with the second part to this unhinged little idea - I had a lot of fun writing this, although if I gotta write someone honking one more time... Well, I'd do it... This beautiful BEAUTIFUL artwork is once provided by the wonderful, beautiful and incredibly talented @azaani-art (you bless us, love! Thank you for allowing me to use this!). And also @the-littlest-raindrop - if you wanna read you'll know why I tagged you! Please all enjoy! I'm excited to hear what you all think!

Pairing: Goosetarion(Astarion)/GN!Tav (You)

Rating: Still stupid

Warnings: ankles in danger (you guys didn't think I'd be serious about this, right?)

Wordcount: 5k

~~~

The next morning the whole group sat around the giant wooden table in the main room of the inn. You were pretty sure you looked like you had slept in the gutter last night.

Beside you sat the goose, craning its neck at everyone at the table but for once pleasantly un-hoking. Even Goosetarion must have realised that honking the house down at this time of day would have probably gotten him his neck wrung faster than he could have jumped off the bench and waddled away. Or maybe it was lingering humiliation from when he had tried several times to jump up on the bench, fluttering his wings as if desperately trying to take flight. It had taken several more tries – and serious hissing from his side to bar you from just lifting him up onto the bench. And even when the goose had managed to get a high enough jump, it had face-planted onto the table nearly knocking itself out because it hadn’t anticipated the physics of the unfamiliarly long neck.

The others had to make a serious effort to not burst out laughing, but the violent threat in Goosetarion’s red eyes had shut them up quickly. Nobody really wanted to feel the goose’s wrath – or teeth for that matter.

Now you softly and absent-mindedly petted the animal with strokes from its head down to its back. Trying to make up for his hurting ego. The rump was very busy wiggling again.

You hadn’t slept awfully much last night as could have been expected. Of course, you had taken Goosetarion to your shared room. The staff at the inn had at first protested. But the fact that the others had quickly jumped in to declare the animal your “emotional support goose” and the fact that you really almost had started crying right then and there had been convincing enough to allow the goose in your room. Although you were of course given some serious side-eyes. But you couldn’t care less about people’s opinions at the moment.

You had sat down Astarion in your room, removed your armour and had sat down on the bed, sinking down against the headboard, face buried in your hands. Your feelings had still been very much on the verge of overflowing leaving you in a state of emptiness and tension all at the same time.

Only when you had heard some rumbling and strained croaks did you realise that you kind of had forgotten Goosetarion. But when you had opened your eyes, you already saw how the goose was hopping up on the bedframe and dragging itself up on the mattress with its wings, making what would have possibly been laborious groans normally. It wasn’t exactly graceful, but you were impressed, nonetheless.

Astarion wandered over to where you sat with drawn up legs and then jumped onto your lap without hesitation. Some struggle followed in which the two of you tried to get comfortable on the bed. Which resulted in you getting whacked in the face by Goosetarion’s splayed wings several times and him face-planting onto your chest about an equal amount of times while trying to move around, losing balance.

Finally, when you had all settled down, Goosetarion had been all cosied up on your lap and made a small honk while looking at you.

You had started stroking him again.

“I’m so sorry this happened, Astarion, but to be honest, you really had it coming.”

“Honk!?”

“Because you don’t just go around trying to steal from anyone who looks at you funny!”

“Honk!”

“Let’s just… hope this will all be over soon. I promise I’ll protect you and take care of you – no matter what.” You had embraced the goose, burying your face in its feathers for a moment and deeply wished that soon it would be your vampire again.

Goosetarion had carefully placed his small head on your shoulder and given a very soft little honk. The weight on your shoulder had been so light it had barely been noticeable at all.

And that is how you had slipped into your dreams sometime: Sitting up against the headboard, goose on your lap. Your head had fallen back in an awkward angle that probably hadn’t been healthy for your neck. And the goose had been mirroring you with its long neck and head fallen back on your shoulder. Surely a sleeping position no real goose had ever occupied.

But now you sat at the inn table having breakfast and talked with the others about what your plans for the day were. It was to be more walking and talking to people.

You were rather relieved because that meant that you wouldn’t have to think too much about how to take care of the goose. You’d just have him tag along and try your best to stop him from biting anyone’s ankles or getting his neck twisted.

The group set off once everyone had finished eating. You swung your legs over and got up. Astarion eagerly jumped down from the bench and honked at you demandingly, immediately earning a hush from Gale and a tchk from Lae’zel. The goose wasn’t bothered by it, just kept looking at you, now spreading its wings a little. He honked again. It was obvious he wanted to be carried and was very demanding about it.

“Is that your definition of asking nicely to be lifted up? Because if yes, you need to work on your attitude”, you scolded him while deep down you were surprised how the vampire so blatantly dared to hold on to his desire to be petty and sassy.

Another honk – challenging now. The goose glowered at you, for lack of a better description, and you glowered back.

Then you just walked off, following the others which had already left the inn. And you were swift. Leaving no choice to the goose but having to waddle behind you as fast as his rubbery feet would go or risk being left behind.

You gave in pretty quickly afterwards. And if only because Lae’zel was almost already losing her mind about how slow you were going to be with the goose walking beside you.

Goosetarion willingly and humbly let himself be lifted and carried around then without another complaint. Actually, you got the feeling he was getting a bit too used to that already.

“Enjoying the luxury of being carried around by your loved one, Astarion?”, Halsin asked the goose a while after you had left the inn and walked around the city. Goosetarion had stretched out his head and looked at his surroundings curiously and cautiously from his privileged position.

At the question the goose’s head – which was comically staying in place despite the walking movements – had swung around and the question had been answered with a short honk that you could only describe as sassy. Then Goosetarion had angled his head in a way that was way too much Astarion in nature than should have been possible. The druid laughed while you saw that Gale shook his head disapprovingly.

You squeezed the goose just a little: “Well, don’t get used to it, Astarion, this is a once in a lifetime occurrence.”

In reply you got a honk that sounded like a pout.

The first half of the day then was spent just like yesterday: tiresomely walking around, trying to strike up conversations with strangers to get some information without being too suspicious. Which was kind of a challenge when you were carrying around a goose that had to comment on almost everything despite no one fully knowing what it wanted to say.

Around noon you decided to take a break. You picked out what seemed to be a market place in full swing and settled down around the fountain in the middle. Each and every one of you had grabbed something from the market stalls to eat – pies, fruit, Karlach had even gone for a portion of spit roast.

At one of the stalls a huge-bellied man in a very grimy apron had way to keenly asked for how much you would sell the goose. Goosetarion’s head had yanked straight upwards, and he had immediately started to scream bloody murder (in goose) while you had turned him away in your arms – away from this shady looking merchant. Panic immediately had shot through you and your eyes had widened as you yanked the goose away and as far out of reach as possible.

“The goose is not for sale”, you had screamed hysterically in response.

“Unfortunate, how much good does it do if you’re only carrying it around? You all a bunch of leaf-eaters or what? This could be a nice dinner for my whole family!”, the man had yapped, obviously angry by your unwillingness to negotiate. You’d had your doubts about the family claim. Especially since you had seen the very suspicious looking dishes he seemingly had had to offer at his stall. They had all looked rank and the longer you’d stood there you’d also smelled their foulness. You hadn’t even dared to think about how old these must be.

“Istik, the bird is not for sale!”, Lae’zel had entered the conversation and drawn a dagger, taking a threatening step towards the huge man.

The other companions each all had taken up readied stances too – hands not too casually wandering to their weapons and stepping in front of you and Goosetarion in protection.

And thankfully, it had been left at that. The man lifting up his hands in defence as he had mumbled something incoherent and turned around again. Astarion had honked once more in victory (as if he had contributed to anything) and waved his head that would have normally swept his white curls back. As a goose it had just looked a bit delusional.

Now you sat on the cobblestone ground with Goosetarion on your lap. You had already gotten into a routine it seemed, it was awkwardly comforting. But somewhen when you were still nibbling on some apples and cheese, the goose wiggled off your lap. It seemed he was bored by just sitting around. Or maybe it was also that all of the group happily munching away had made him think of his own hunger that he was currently unable to satisfy.

He eyed the rim of the fountain suspiciously while everyone was busy chatting and eating. Only out of the corner of your eye did you see how he spread out his wings, his neck stretched out and started swinging – almost like a cat preparing to make a big leap somewhere.

Was he… was he trying to fly?

The goose made a leap, desperately flapped its wings and just for a tiny moment actually seemed to gain some air. But the moment passed as soon as it began and Goosetarion full on crashed into Lae’zel who had just gotten back from also buying a portion of spitroast. The githyanki had only just sat down when the goose fell onto her, almost causing her to drop her food.

Lae’zel immediately had her dagger out that - not so long ago- had been used to protect the same goose it was threatening now. The githyanki cussed out the animal that darted back to the safety of your lap much faster than you could have imagined. With desperate honking the goose jumped on your lap and tried to even climb up onto your shoulders. Lae’zel was still cursing and stepping closer, dagger in hand.

“Astarion! Lae’zel!”, you both called them out.

Goosetarion gave self-righteous honk while the fighter reluctantly sheathed her dagger again and went back to her lunch.

“And you are getting off my godsdamned shoulders, you silly goose, you’re too heavy!”, you added with some anger as Goosetarion was just about to figure out an even more privileged position. You shoved him off, causing him to croak in disappointment. And you made a point to ignore the annoying goose for some time after that, joining the conversation of the others – parenting measures.

So, Goosetarion got bored again with simply sitting around, waiting for you lot to get going again. He started to waddle around you and the other companions – as if he was deep in thought and tried to sort them out by wandering back and forth.

At one point a small child came by and interrupted him by pointing at him, loudly screaming “DUCKY” and then toddled away again. Goosetarion looked taken aback, honked in confusion and annoyance and then went back to his wandering.

Jaheira and you were discussing an action plan as to where to go next since you had the most knowledge of the city. Actually, Astarion would probably have had valuable input. But getting that input across was a bit difficult at the moment. He tried nonetheless.

The goose loudly honked when Jaheira proposed something and shook his head in a comical way then started to flail around his wings. The flailing and honking really did nothing though to get his point across. When Goosetarion noticed that you were all just staring at him in confusion he even looked like he was attempting to perform a face-palm. Then he gave up with another defeated honk.

The small child from before chose this particular moment when everyone was still staring at the goose to return. It was carrying quite a large piece of bread and from a few feet away hurled it at Goosetarion whose back was towards the child. “FOR DUCKY!”, it screamed while putting all its power into the throw.

Apparently at this young age the child was not yet very proficient with improvised throwing weapons because the throw went absolutely awry. Or rather, the child was in fact a prodigy because the piece of bread hit the goose squarely in the back of its head, making it squeak and lose balance.

The kid just laughed giddily and clapped its hands, hopping up and down. Obviously, it was expecting the “duck” to happily devour the generous offering of food now.

Goosetarion regained his balance quickly and turned around. He was dangerously silent.

You immediately felt the tension radiating from the small body, so you carefully got up. To be ready for whatever.

The goose stared down the child who was still jumping around cheerfully. But the longer “DUCKY” just stared at it, not moving, just with a lot of fury in its tiny red eyes, it realised that something was wrong. The kid calmed down until it looked downright frightened. You saw the child’s bottom lip starting to wobble, ready to start crying at any moment.

And then Goosetarion stormed towards the child, big wings spread wide, neck stretched out as far as possible and screaming as loud as his lungs allowed.

The kid started screaming as well and desperately tried to run away, almost stumbling over its own feet in the attempt to not get assaulted by the vicious goose.

You rushed after the murderous animal, trying to get to it before it could brutalise the child’s ankles. And thankfully Astarion was still not very adept to running around as a goose and you could easily catch up to him and grab him.

He desperately flapped his wings trying to free himself from your arms while still honking like mad. Your ears almost immediately started ringing. Incredible how much anger could fit into such a tiny body.

The child was already long gone and probably traumatised for life by this oversized duck trying to hunt it down. But Goosetarion was still livid even when you picked him up while holding him as far away from you as possible to avoid getting whacked by him again.

“Astarion, will you calm the fuck down?”, you yelled in between angry honking. You yourself were getting more than just annoyed by his behaviour – first he got himself into this pickle and now he caused even more chaos instead of sitting it out. There definitely was something to be said about the chaotic nature of geese and the vampire rogue fitting very well together.

The rest of the group had been watching the scene. Gale had his face buried in his hands. Most of the rest was at least silently snickering while Karlach was just very openly losing it again.

You sat the angry goose down on the stone rim of the fountain in an attempt to force him to calm down. “Time out, Astarion, godsdammit! Either you behave or I might be thinking about selling your poultry ass off, yet!”, you gave him the ultimatum and pointed a finger at him angrily.

He tried to snap at it. You could barely believe the audacity.

“For someone with so much neck to wrangle at the moment you should really be careful about who you piss off, Astarion”, Wyll said who was casually leaning against the fountain.

The goose stared at him. But Wyll just shrugged.

“Are we going to be nice now?”, you asked Goosetarion. The gaze of the red button eyes wandered back to you. The goose gave one more, curt honk, then settled down in a manner that made you think it would have crossed its wings over its chest in annoyed defeat had it been able to do so.

You stared at him angrily for a moment longer then went back to eating your scrawny lunch and talking with the others. You kept talking about different possible ideas on how to go forward. The goose meanwhile was brooding while sitting on the rim of the round fountain.

After a while, it seemed Goosetarion had enough of being well behaved and only listening while not being able to throw in his snide comments. He hopped off the fountain wall, specifically choosing Gale’s lap as a landing pad and making the wizard wince while the goose jumped off him and sauntered away.

He wandered around a little and honked dismissively when you told him to not to go too far. But for the moment you were already so fed up with him you really couldn’t care less.

The group finished up their lunch and decided on their plan. Then you all packed up your things and were ready to leave. And only then did you notice that the goose was nowhere to be found.

“Astarion?”, you asked and looked around. Some of the others had already started walking again.

“Was he not just wandering off towards some of the market stalls?”, Halsin asked. You simply nodded as you started looking around with rising panic.

“Yes, but I… I mean he wouldn’t have just left, right?”, you said as you ran from side to side and hoped to spot a feisty goose somewhere. You screamed his name again in hopes to get a honk in response. But nothing.

“You don’t think he would have wandered off just to spite us, right?”, you asked Halsin again. The druid in the meantime had shouted to the others to stop and come back.

“As much as I think that he likes to get on people’s nerves deliberately… I don’t think he would walk off and jeopardize his own safety – so no”, Shadowheart replied as she came back and caught on to what was happening.

“Well, then where could the little rascal have gone?”, Karlach asked in response.

A thought raced through your mind when she said that, and it hit you as you looked at Karlach.

“The suspicious merchant!”, you exclaimed and panic reached new heights within you.

“Let me just”, Gale started when he connected the dots and immediately started murmuring an incantation. Meanwhile the group had reassembled at the fountain and quickly was informed about what was happening. You stared at the wizard as he had gone silent and impatiently awaited the result of whatever it was he was doing.

The wizard’s eyes had lit up and he was focusing. Then his eyes flashed back to normal, his eyes found yours, worry flashing in them: “I feel him, he’s moving – quickly. And I’m pretty sure that is not goose speed.”

Your eyes widened when Gale confirmed your suspicion. You looked around at the others who mirrored your expression and without out a word you all readied to take on the pursuit.

“This way”, the wizard exclaimed with an outstretched arm, and you all started running.

You ran through the market and then through the streets of Baldur’s Gate, following whatever direction Gale gave you who was quickly out of breath but did his best to carry on.

You were already almost back at Wyrm’s Crossing – the houses a lot smaller and simpler here than the townhouses in the core city. And surely after a few minutes you could make out desperate honking somewhere in front of you. You closed in on the goose-napper!

When it seemed, you were only a corner away you already reached for your dagger – ready to do whatever it might take - but Wyll grabbed your hand. “Let’s be clever about this, let’s not risk that delicate goose neck being broken”, he said to you with a sympathetic glance. Reluctantly, you put back your dagger, at least for the time being.

You peeked around the corner and sure as all Nine Hells you saw the full-bellied man from earlier with a wiggling, struggling and screaming goose under his arms turn another corner. From there on out you followed the villain with some distance to avoid him noticing your little rescue party.

You followed him up to a little free-standing wooden house. It was old and shabby and made you further suspicious of him. What kind of shady business could someone possibly be up to in there?

You saw how he was putting some stuff down in front of the porch of the house, then went inside with the screaming animal still under his arm.

Again, you were ready to just go and immediately tear this house down. You were almost blind with your fear and worry for Astarion and with white-hot rage. But again, Wyll grabbed your arm and made a motion that conveyed that you should walk around the house.

Very impatiently you nodded, and you all snuck around the house which was barely a step up from a shack. From the inside you could actually hear the excessive honking of the goose now. Your heart almost broke and your body was tense with rash panic.

On the rear side of the house was a scruff garden fenced in by a rundown fence and a small wooden stump. It was almost an insult to even call it a garden; it was more of an abandoned plot.

It looked like the stump there was used for chopping wood. An axe was planted in the ground beside it. But there were also dark stains on it that could only make you horridly guess what else might be chopped there.

Wyll – taking over the role as tactician right then and there – made you wait while you were almost ready to scale a wall. At least by the excessive continued honking you still knew that Goosetarion was alive.

Wyll’s patience and insistence paid off because after mere minutes, the man came out of the house again, carrying the goose, some stuff in a basket hanging from his arm and of course – a ginormous cleaver.

Your heart dropped and the goose too now looked just very scared and helpless with how it hung from the goose-napper’s arm. Head hanging low, seemingly having given up all hope of being saved. You drew an arrow and readied at on your bow as Wyll waved the others to get in position.

The man slammed the cleaver into the wooden block and then with both hands placed down the goose on its back. The animal was barely even struggling anymore, just fearfully squeaking and noticing that almost broke your heart completely in these frightful moments.

The villain then ripped out the cleaver from the wooden stump and lifted it up high. You could see the sunlight glint on the shabby silver.

Wyll was still motioning everyone to hold but your strings snapped.

“GET AWAY FROM THE GOOSE!”, you screamed at full lung capacity while loosening the arrow from your bow string simultaneously.

The man hesitated and had only started to turn to you as the arrow struck him squarely in the shoulder holding the cleaver.

He immediately dropped the lifted knife with a guttural scream, letting it fall. It land on the wooden stump again – missing the goose’s head by mere inches. You only saw how the goose’s head dropped back with a small relieved honk, almost as if it had fainted shortly because of the shock.

Then absolute chaos broke out.

You all rushed towards the man who was screaming in pain and was already pulling at the arrow in his shoulder. Your eyes were solely on the goose but then Halsin, Karlach and most of the others overtook you and you lost sight of the animal as your friends stormed onto the man.

Coincidentally, some other shady looking folk came out of the back of the house, alarmed by the commotion. Your suspicions and gut feeling were confirmed then. You didn’t need to know anymore at this point, you had no mercy in your bones for them in this moment.

The thugs engaged your group in combat. In the meantime, you were desperately trying to spot the goose while your friends easily managed to keep the enemies in check.

Finally, you spotted Goosetarion! He had jumped off the wooden stump and seemingly had gotten into the basket the man had been carrying. And obviously the basket had contained some more knives because the goose was now firmly holding one in his beak. Astarion certainly had gotten out of his stupor and was now flailing his wings and threatened everyone with the blade he was carrying – everyone’s ankles were definitely in grave danger. Almost no difference from the usual rogue.

Your group easily fought off the thugs as you sneaked through the chaos of the battle towards the goose to grab and secure it. When the goose saw you, it hopped happily and dropped the knife to honk joyfully at you. You rushed over, kneeled down and wrapped him in your arms as he kept honking and jumping – obviously very relieved that you came to his rescue.

The fight was very quickly turning to your favour. But then as you kept holding onto the poor little animal you heard something else. You couldn’t quite discern it at first, but you heard loud screaming. And as you tried to peek through the legs of everyone around you, you saw some people in armour coming closer.

“City watch”, you whispered to yourself. Goosetarion’s head swung around as well and he gave another honk as he saw what you saw.

“CITY WATCH”, you yelled louder so everyone would hear.

That made almost everyone stall. You quickly got up and wildly gestured at your friends to just get going. So they did – and the fight turned into running from city guards way quicker than you thought it possible.

You didn’t even take one look back at the assailants and the goose-napper. You were just completely happy with running away with your goose soulmate safely in your arms. The adrenaline of the fight and the panic before almost awarding you wings. The only reason you took a look back was to make sure that all of your group were safely with you.

When you had brought what you thought was a safe distance between you and your pursuers, you just sank to the ground with Goosetarion wrapped securely in your arms. You nuzzled your face into his feathers and started crying.

The last day had literally been too much for you. You were in desperate need of a break and some strong alcohol. Someone put their hand on your shoulder as you cried into Astarion’s feathering. You softly slid down against the rough brick wall you were leaning against until you were laying on your back, completely dissolved in your tears. You were still burying your face when even through your closed eyelids you could see a purple flash of light and suddenly the weight laying on top of you was much heavier than before.

You opened your eyes and almost didn’t believe them when you saw Astarion – the real elven Astarion lay on top of you. Reflexively your arms and legs wrapped around the man to hold him as close as possible.

“Oh gods”, was the only thing you managed to mutter as more tears kept coming. The vampire in turn wrapped his arms around you as well. He was panting and coughing – surely a response of straining his voice with all the excessive honking. You rolled around in your forceful hug until you were laying on top of the former goose.

And then you just stayed like this for a long moment while your friends watched out for you and gave you two a moment of just holding each other. Making sure everything was fine and letting the realisation settle in.

You buried your face at Astarion’s shoulder and held him as tightly as your body allowed.

“Hello, my love”, Astarion whispered hoarsely to you as he started to softly caress your shoulders, arms and back.

You sobbed and lifted your head from his shoulder. You saw how he softly smiled at you and that his red eyes were dangerously wet as well as he kept holding onto you.

You didn’t know what to say nor did you trust your mind enough to form coherent sentences yet. You were just unbelievably happy that you had him back with you. So you just stared at the humanoid vampire again and didn’t let go of him.

“Honk?”, Astarion made in an attempt to stop you from crying by cracking a joke. You whacked his arm and pulled him in closer again. Then you whacked his arm again.

“If you’re ever going to honk at me again-“, you started making a threat.

“I’ll happily promise you not to”, Astarion immediately replied, pressed his forehead to yours and cupped your face with one of his hands – graciously reminding you that he was fully back with you again.

And then he pressed his lips to yours, confirming the promise he had just made to you.

Tag list:

Tumblr taglist: @spacebarbarianweird @sunfire-ancunin @tragedybunny @dependsonthedream @tallymonster @magazzne @micropoe10 @aoirohi @my-bunny-prince @lumienyx @fayeriess @bloopthebat @dark-star-exe @sleepydang @spooniefulofsugar @shadowserpent4444 @mei-simp @shiningneedlecastle@indestructeible @catching-fire-in-the-wind

1K notes · View notes