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kiwisbell · 3 months

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Gloves Off [joel miller]

You enjoy watching him bleed, but you love to watch him succeed. He builds ‘em up just to knock ‘em down. He’s The Contractor, and he’s your reigning king of the ring.

my masterlist!

pairing: boxer!joel miller x f!reader

tags/warnings: 18+ (MDNI), no outbreak!joel, blood and violence (by virtue of joel’s career), boxing, joel’s got that dawg in him, established relationship, oral fixation, weightlifting, cleaning wounds, protective!joel, soft!joel, joel is a munch, cockblocking, fingering, squirting, riding, unprotected piv (let's not follow this example), creampie, cum eating, dirty talk, light choking, mirror sex, “she” pronoun used — switches to “you” a little ways in & stays that way, some light playful smacking, some light playful blasphemy, a hint of exhibitionism, they're a bedroom-ceiling-mirror couple™️, no i do not know the intricacies of boxing, it's violent and i'm just a girl

word count: ~ 9k

read on ao3!

a/n: this is mostly porn and some very light plot. we're mostly just establishing these two for now – but more will come in the future as i build on this universe! thank you so much mya @cavillscurls for beta reading this mess, for giving joel's girl her fightin' name, and for generally holding my hand. ilysm honey

dividers by the lovely @saradika

follow @kiwisbellupdates and turn on notifications if you'd like to be notified when i post a fic!

It’s loud. Loud enough to bruise. Monstrous pulses of bass resonate from the ground into veins and lungs and muscles. No choice but to swallow.

In those rare moments when the music recedes, it's the swell of the audience, the cloying aroma of beer and the crunch of peanut shells underfoot. It’s the rapacious jeers and whoops from a crowd who refuses to let silence infest. Chest-deep belching and beer-guzzling and bet-placing. Illicit handshakes that become permissible for the next hour.

The lights of the arena dazzle—rhythmic hues of flashing yellowblueorange strobing brilliantly above to the throbbing bass. He always gets uproarious applause, makes an indelible impression: the stoic, humble shake of his wide shoulders as he bounces impatiently on the balls of his feet, the royal blue robe embroidered with gold, the eager kiss he gives his girlfriend as she gently slips the fabric off and gives him a brilliant smile.

He isn't shy about the way he takes his girl into his arms, one big callused hand pulling her in at the small of her back. The audience roars. Cameras flash. Some sort of pre-fight ritual, some unfamiliars presume. Presses go wild for shit like this. Maybe he’s doing it for the cameras.

Then he cups her face, her ear comfortably situated between his thumb and forefinger, briefly bunching her hair in his fist before he lets her go. And—no, this isn't for show. She says something nobody but he can hear, slipping his robe over her own shoulders, too-big and draping off her body, and he grins crookedly, half-listening to his coach rattle off the game plan.

She kisses him chastely on the cheek, but it lingers, some whispers—promises, maybe—softly exchanged. Then she saunters off, hips swaying, tying his robe around her waist.

“And now—”

The drawl of the announcer heralds a cheer.

“Your heavyweight champion, your boy in blue, your reigning king of the K.O.—”

Another piercing uproar. There are few here in Austin who favour the opponent. They toast their cups of foamy beer to the man approaching the ring, still bouncing and shaking out his limbs and popping in a mouthguard.

“You know him. You love him. You enjoy watching him bleed, but you love to watch him succeed. The Contractor—”

It’s his girl who screams this time, banging the flat of her palms on the floor of the ring, her eyes alight with excitement. Under the robe wrapped around her body is a tight black dress. She's a picture of paradox. Elegance rubs up against the ravenous spirit of the arena. The lights dance in her eyes. Hunger thrives in those irises. Her eyes don't waver from the man entering the ring.

“Joel Miller!”

He slips under the ropes and raises his fists, now adorned in bright red gloves, high in the air. He’s dressed in blue shorts that reflect the strobing colours, torso bare, greying hair tousled. Tousled, no doubt, from her fingers. He stands like a Grecian statue before the crowd, made to be admired, and yet they feel distinctly as if they have intruded on an obscene, private moment.

The judge, dressed in an old polo and a pair of dress slacks, exuding the illusion of propriety, enters next. Joel doesn't smile or wave at the crowd. Fans know his shtick—the cold, calculated killer with the K.O. record last season, disinterested in reputation, a man of focus. But he glances down at the girl just outside the ring and winks. Her answering grin tells a story. But it is not one for the cameras and the press and the beer-guzzlers. It’s just another length of the thread spooling between them.

The opponent arrives—some up-and-coming challenger who goes by Ricky The Great and wears a plastic gold crown as he emerges from the darkness; yawn—and the audience promptly begins their jeers. It’s Texas. Here, Joel Miller owns the scene. That's just the way the cookie crumbles.

Ricky The Great, all glamorous smiles and brush-offs in the face of so much heckling, shrugs off his fire truck-red robe and climbs into the arena. He bumps gloves with Joel, who kneels down and bumps gloves with his girl’s bare fists. The judge speaks to both of them—something about a clean fight, nothin’ dirty now—and the crowd draws a collective breath. The music peters. For a moment, there's silence.

The bell rings and the roar of the crowd crescendos.

Joel makes the first hit. He doesn't bother circling his opponent for long; he strikes precise and true and knocks Ricky’s head back. The rippling of his muscles as he throws his first punch is taut, intricate. A delicate transfer of energy. There's none of the same finesse in the way Ricky strikes: he’s flighty, uncertain, too stiff in his attacks. But he’s got strength, and his blows land.

The first strikes Joel on the left side of his face, a low thud of impact that makes the audience recoil.

She’s lurching forward, spitting venom, hurling fire at the challenger: Oh, fuck that! Is that all you can do? My mother’s dog hits harder than that!

The Contractor shakes it off, back on the defensive, and look at the boy in blue carry the fight, he’s got his arms up to block the next, and he’s returning each punch like he’s making conversation, and folks—folks!—the first round is over, the Contractor is fired up, and he’s not going to let another hit get past him, don't mess with Miller, folks, don't mess with Miller!

With a thick forearm, he swipes his sweat-matted curls away from his sticky forehead and lowers himself into the opposite corner from Ricky The Great.

“You gotta keep your guard up, Texas,” says a sweet, sultry voice—she’s hopping up into the ring, handing him a water bottle. “Don’t get cocky.”

He squirts the water into his mouth and all over his face while his coach Fred takes a knee beside him. “Yes, ma’am.”

“Your lady’s right. Don’t gotta be on the offensive the whole damn time. Hit him, but hit him smart. He’s a rookie.” Fred claps him hard on the shoulder. “Yeah?”

Joel nods, his brow lowered, his face set in a firm scowl. The Texas Hold ‘Em, she calls that look. Means he's done playin’.

Fred smacks him twice on the cheek. “You gonna fight like you mean it?”

“Goddamn right.”

“You gonna hit the kid like he owes you money?”

“Goddamn fuckin’ right.”

Fred grunts, satisfied. “Good. Then get your ass up and fight like a man, so you can take your girlfriend to dinner. Eh, asshole?”

She bites her bottom lip. “You gonna take me out?”

Joel inhales sharply through his bruised nose as she toys with the tie of the robe around her waist. “Tomorrow night,” he says. “White Rose.”

“Yeah?” Her eyes are doe-like. “Better win this fight, then, Texas. Maybe I’ll treat you.”

She slips under the ropes and winks, settling in for round two. Joel knocks his gloves together and stands up, shaking himself out.

Ricky The Great is giving him a great, bloodied smile, rolling his head around his shoulders. “Hell of a fight you put up,” he says good-naturedly as they meet in the centre of the ring to bump gloves again. “Hell of a pretty girl, too.”

A minute narrowing of brown eyes gone beetle-black. A careful and measured silence as he awaits the next words he knows will decide the course of the night.

“You’ll let me have a go with her after, right?”

The bell chimes. The crowd roars.

Headlines stamped bold-faced on front pages by morning will only beckon a bigger crowd by the next fight.

RICKY THE GREAT K.O.’d IN SECOND ROUND: THE CONTRACTOR REIGNS

You listen to the rhythmic thud, thud, thud of his fists hitting the bag as your teeth absently chew the end of your pen to plastic mulch.

His back is facing you, huge and muscled and rippling with every blow he lands on the bag. Gruff exhales are punched out of him, the deep purple hue of the bruises on his chest pulling taut over tanned skin. He's quiet, typical after a fight, the adrenaline of the ring accumulating in the weight of each punch.

“Joel, honey, a couple venues are asking for you by name. Say they want you in… let’s see, Wyoming, New York, and Las Vegas. Should I tell them you're local only?”

He doesn't answer, the rhythm of his punches never faltering, the cascading path of his spine flexing, dripping beads of sweat. There are dimples in his lower back.

“Joel?”

He isn't just letting off steam.

He’s mad.

You sigh, peeling yourself away from your desk and placing your hand between his shoulder blades. He shows his blows, grasping the bag to keep it still, his head briefly lolling low as you rub his sweat-slick back.

“Come with me,” you say softly, pressing a soft kiss to one of the bruises on his shoulder. He takes a moment to shuck off his gloves, dropping them to the floor and following you to the desk. His hands are still wrapped, knuckles bruised beneath. You guide him gently to sit in your chair while you shuffle through items in the drawers to produce a cloth. You wet it with your water bottle, now lukewarm, and gesture for his hands as you sit on the desk. You begin to unwrap the gauze on his left, letting it rest in your lap.

You make quick work of the wraps and his split knuckles, gently cleaning away the dried blood and making sure no dirt has accumulated. He flexes his fingers when you're finished and seems to relish the twinge of pain that accompanies it.

“You should take it easy on your hands after a fight, honey. Rest up before the next.”

It's lost on him, of course. He hardly sleeps. But he nods, one hand on your thigh, rubbing circles over your hip bone. “I know.”

You smile faintly, touched by his attempt to placate you despite the distant glaze over his eyes, and begin to clean the cuts on his face: one on his lip, his chin, and just below his swollen eye. To his credit, he doesn't flinch much. You've been patching him up long enough.

“Wanna tell me what happened, Texas?”

His eyes shutter, head ducked to evade the tender press of the washcloth to his chin. You frown. “Joel.”

He just shakes his head. You shouldn't have to hear shit like that. And he knows that you know, but you don't say a word, humming softly, the melody of letting it go. Joel grasps your free hand and threads his fingers through yours, his mouth meeting your unmarred knuckles.

“Baby,” you coo, “I need to get you cleaned up. Look at me.”

He lifts his eyes as best he can with one sealed a quarter shut, and you click your tongue softly. “Nobody gets a hit in on my man. Fucking asshole.”

“‘s okay, baby.” He kisses the inside of your wrist and you bite down on a laugh when his moustache tickles your sensitive skin. “I’m okay. Had my coach there with me.”

“Fred’s a pretty good guy,” you say coyly.

Joel hauls you abruptly onto his lap. You yelp, winding your arms around his neck to steady yourself. His lips find your jaw, ghosting along the line of it. “You know I ain't talkin’ about Fred.”

“Take it easy,” you implore him. “You’ve got a split lip and a swollen eye, killer. Can’t go getting all sweet on me.”

He harrumphs, your grumpy old dog, and continues to kiss you anyway, nosing at your cheek so you’ll turn your head to the side. He places his lips on your pulse point and lets them linger there awhile.

At last, he tells you the truth. “He asked if I’d share you.”

You scratch your nails at his scalp, tousling his sweaty curls. “Hmm. Wouldn't be the first time. Remember Galveston?”

His grip instinctively tightens around your waist. “Fuckin’ asshole.”

“You got him good, though.”

“Goddamn right.”

“And I got a real nice night out of it. Fuck, that hotel room. The continental breakfast. The bath.”

“That fuckin’ dress,” he adds, nipping your jaw. “Could've eaten you alive.”

“You did.”

Joel chuckles, kissing his way back to your mouth. “Never goin’ back to that bar again, though.”

He’d started a good-and-proper fight in the dive bar that night a few years back over some piece of shit who pinched your ass in front of Joel. Your killer had made quite the reputation for himself… after you and Fred bailed him out of the county jail with a decent rap sheet to take back home as a souvenir. From the proud gleam in his eye that night, you guessed he'd happily paste that record to the refrigerator if he had his say.

“I don’t know, honey. Folks in that town know not to mess with Texas.”

He gives you a hard look. Goddamn right.

“You had me going there for a minute during that first round,” you tell him, cupping the good side of his face. “You feel okay?”

He studies you, fingers idly tracing your vertebrae. “Yeah, baby. I’m good.”

“You still feel like that dinner at the White Rose?”

He grins crookedly. “If you let me pick your dress.”

You smile, brushing some wet curls away from his forehead. “Anything you need.”

Kissing him deeply, you lick your way into his mouth, your thighs hugging his hips. Joel groans, pulling you snug to him by the small of your back, and you feel him begin to fill out his shorts, his length warm and heavy against his leg. You roll your hips, desire tingling at your fingertips and spreading inward.

It’s warm and sticky, this love he has. It’s the way the sunlight glues a gold shine to his skin when he first wakes and it’s the boundless crooning melody of “Purple Rain” in your ear as he's winding down from a fight. He’s the muggy fingers of dusk, languid and lazy on your body, gold darkening to black as you become a thing he seeks to cover, conceal, make only his.

He suffocates. It’s how he best knows to show you his love.

Joel tugs your hair so you’ll tip your head back and leaves sloppy, open-mouthed kisses up your throat, stern in his nibbles and bites, teeth scraping along the cut of your jaw.

“Joel…”

“You know what I need.” Joel jerks his chin in the direction of the bench. “Go and spread ‘em, nice and wide for me.”

Oh, you think, noting the tension that still coils in his shoulders. Oh.

Your heart thunders as you obey, crossing the room and lowering yourself onto the adjustable bench, thighs straddling the cushion. Joel’s eyes are catlike, pupils puffy, predatory. He prowls toward you, dropping to one knee, near-clinical in his assessment of your posture, your heaving chest, the slight quiver of your thighs as he lifts his hands to squeeze your soft flesh.

“Wanna see you,” he says plainly. “Show me.”

You’re giddy with excitement as you lift the hem of your top and toss it aside, giving him a good view of the white lace cupping your breasts. Joel hums, shifting closer, easing your thighs open to fit his broad shoulders.

One of his hands migrates from your hip to your ribcage, his thumb brushing over the soft swell of your breast. You shudder, letting him explore you, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows.

“Take this off,” he says. You reach for the clasp of your bra and let it join your discarded shirt. The rough pad of his thumb rolls gently over your nipple as your skin puckers and you begin to stiffen.

“Joel,” you whisper. He tuts you into silence and warms your sternum under his palm.

“Relax, baby. Let me see you play for a little while.”

Leaning back on the bench, your hand trails down your body, fingers dancing on your soft, sweet skin, and Joel’s licking his lips before you can even reach the apex of your thighs—lifting your skirt and showing him the simple cotton panties covering his meal. You’ve darkened the fabric with your arousal.

“Goddamn vision,” says Joel. “So fuckin’ pretty. You need someone to pay her some attention?”

“Please,” you mewl, your fingers swiping lightly over your clit. “Please, baby, I need you so bad.”

Joel lowers himself beneath your skirt and presses a soft kiss to your pussy over your panties. Your hips buck instinctively, seeking his mouth, but Joel presses his palm flat against your lower belly.

“Joel…”

“Lie still, sweetheart. I need a taste.”

You whine, a bit petulant, but let him take his time, his tongue darting out to lick you over your underwear. The muffled pleasure makes you choke on air, your head falling back against the bench. You lose sight of his head under your skirt, unable to grasp his hair or guide him closer, unable to do anything except let him take what he wants.

Back when he used to smoke, Joel found a replacement drug between your legs. He’d lick and suck at your clit until he no longer craved the sweet stick of nicotine to his lungs; sometimes, on fight nights like this one, he’ll spend hours with his mouth on your body to quell the buzz of adrenaline that beat his heart against his ribs. He needs his hit in the shape of you.

His new habits had carried over in the years since he quit. Now, he’s dimpling your thighs with his fingers, keeping you spread open as he teases you with his mouth, making out with your pussy. He swallows your sweet little moans and inhales your scent and loses himself entirely in the pleasure of being between your thighs.

“Fuck, baby—” Your voice breaks into a whimper as he at last shifts your ruined panties aside and slides his hot tongue through your weeping slit. “Ahhhh, fuck. Yeah, right there.”

He groans at the first real taste of you, drenched and puffy and practically crying for him, your hips grinding in time with the swirling motions of his tongue. The sting of the cut on his lip, soaked in your wetness, does little to deter him. He delves into you, the slope of his nose pressed against your sensitive little clit as he glides the tip of his tongue around your hole. Your hands find your tits, squeezing and rolling your nipples between your fingers, head lolling against the cushion of his bench.

Joel slides the flat of his tongue through your slit repeatedly, lavishing attention on your folds with his lips, kissing you deeply and fervently, the consistent pressure pooling in your core. Your stomach tightens when he sucks your clit between his lips, moustache prickling your thighs as he hugs your thighs around his shoulders. They rest on his back, your toes curling with the mounting pleasure as he flicks his tongue over your slick pearl and takes it into his mouth.

“Ohhhh, yes. Yesyesyes, just like that. Fuck, baby, that feels soooooh!”

Joel growls, crushed into your pussy, deafening himself as he holds your thighs firm around his ears, split knuckles stinging. He needs this. He’ll die if he doesn't have this. Your gooey-sweet body cups him in a soft, glowing light, warmth wiggling out from the core of you and splitting him down the middle. He eats you until you're sobbing his name, begging to come, jerking your hips around under the weight of his tongue against your clit.

“Joel, I’m…”

He knows. He can feel it. You pulse slowly, rhythmically, your stomach tight and your hips grinding up into his face. With one finalistic twitch of your thighs, your leg kicks out, and you come, your head thrown back against the bench, your entire body seizing with Joel’s head fixed between your legs.

He doesn't stop when you begin to shiver on your way back down, licking up the release from your tight little hole and slathering it over your folds just to drink it back up again. You give him a gurgling moan, reaching down to shuck your skirt up and reveal his face: pupils wide, fingers dimpling your thighs, he looks intoxicated. Gently licking your puffy clit, he swirls his tongue over it, and you gasp, your fingers curling in his sweaty locks.

“Joel, up,” you plead, tugging on his hair. He groans, absconding from your oversensitive pussy, his mouth leaving messy kisses up your belly.

He rests his chin there, looking dazedly up at you. He slowly drags his tongue over his bottom lip, his moustache slick with you. Your thighs suffer a phantom twitch as you watch him idly clean himself up. “Kiss me,” you croak, hauling yourself upright and cupping the back of his neck in your hand.

He does, licking at your kiss-bruised lip, begging for entry. You grant it, tasting your own release on his tongue, a little dazed yourself by the heady tang. Joel’s big arms wrap around your hips, pulling you closer by the small of your back. He breaks the kiss just to tilt your chin up with his nose and nestle his face in the crook of your neck.

“I’m all yours, Texas,” you whisper, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Always have been.”

And the smug bastard grins, the shape of it burned into your throat. “Yeah, I know.”

“Miller, your girlfriend's here.”

Ben doesn't even bother to look up from the books as you breeze past his desk with a paper bag in your hands.

“Hi, Ben,” you chirp.

“Hi, honey. He’s in the ring.”

“Thanks!”

Joel, meanwhile, unstraps his gloves, clapping Hank on the shoulder. “Good fightin’, man,” he says.

The younger guy wheezes out a cough as he sheds his own gear. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll get the shit kicked outta me by you anytime, Miller.”

You appear around the corner, all smiles, carrying his lunch. Joel hops down from the ring and scoops you up in his arms, setting you down on the edge of the platform. You playfully dig your heels into his ass to pull him closer.

“Smells so good, baby,” he says, grinning against your mouth, the kiss turning into a mess of lips and teeth.

“Me or the food?”

He gives your ass a swat. “What'd you bring me?”

“BLT on rye from Nico’s. Because you didn’t eat breakfast,” you say pointedly.

Joel drops his forehead to your shoulder. “Shit. Sorry, coach.”

“You can apologise later,” you purr, tilting his chin up with your fingers, “the way you do best. For now, just eat.”

“Get a fuckin’ room, Miller,” booms Willie from the opposite side of the gym, barrel-chested and big-headed, wailing on the pads his much smaller trainer holds at arm’s length. You roll your eyes, handing the sandwich to Joel.

But he puts his hands right on your ass and yanks you closer, his teeth gnashing out to catch a nipple through your dress. “Don’t you dare go all male,” you chide. “You're just hungry.”

“Fred won't let me fight him,” grumbles Joel, unwrapping the sandwich and diving in, one hand still kneading your ass. His second nature is touching you. His fingers drum along your vertebrae in the back-and-forth rhythm of a fight.

“That’s because Fred wants you fighting strangers only,” you remind him, plucking his towel from the rope and tousling his sweaty curls. “And so do I.”

You dry him off, sweat and a little blood soaking into the pile, as Joel buries his face between your tits. You smack him upside the head.

“Miller,” calls Fred, hurrying toward the pair of you, “I need a syllable.”

Joel huffs, dropping into a chair and pulling you with him. You toss the damp towel aside and brush his curls away from his forehead. He continues to devour his sandwich like it's his last fucking meal despite your slow downs and don’t chokes, one strong arm banding around your waist.

Fred tucks a cigarette behind his ear, his eyes a little wired. “I’ve got Danny Cain on the phone in my office, and he's asking' for you.”

You frown. “He reps The Preacher.”

“Yeah. He fuckin’ does.” Fred sounds damn near breathless. “And The Preacher wants to fight you, Miller, so you'd better get into my office and answer that fuckin’ line.”

Joel pats your ass and stands with you. “Jesus, Fred, all right. C’mon, baby.”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, the coach plucks the cigarette from his ear. “I’m going for a smoke. Don't fucking fuck each other in my office, or I swear to God—”

“Keep your whistle on, Freddie,” you call over your shoulder. You can feel the backdraft of the steam billowing from his ears when Joel gives your ass another firm swat.

“Baby, this is huge,” you tell him, locking yourselves inside Fred’s office. His line blinks red. “If you can win against the Preacher…”

“I get to rub it in that God-fearin’ asshole’s face forever.”

“And you’ll steal his record.” You playfully gnash at the tip of his nose, and he grabs a handful of your ass, pulling you with him.

“You're goddamn right I will.” Joel grins, lounging in Fred’s chair and picking up the receiver. “Miller.”

His hand beckons you as he tucks the phone between his chin and shoulder. You slide back into his lap and put the phone on Speaker.

“It’s good to finally talk with you, Joel.” It's the gruff drawl of Danny Cain, extremely-former heavyweight champ. “My guys and I have been sniffin’ after you for a while now.”

Joel draws little rings over your spine with his fingers, connecting them like links on a chain. “Y’know, I used to watch your fights as Genesis all the time with my pops before he went.”

You nip his ear over the subtle dig. “Listen, man, after the ratings you drew in for the fight against that idiot kid the other night, it’d be idiotic not to put you up against David.”

Your brows lift suggestively, and Joel’s teeth gleam in the relative darkness as the corner of his mouth pulls up in a crooked smile. “That so?”

A brief pause. You picture Cain’s chest deflating in a cold sigh, frost creeping over all that he breathes on. “That's so. Ratings gold, and we’re willing to split the difference on travel if you're willing to meet in the middle. Crowd’ll go crazy to see the biggest names in heavyweight knock skulls. If you agree, I’ll be calling your agent.”

Joel’s grin widens, calluses playing upon the soft flesh of your inner thigh, inching his way under your dress. “My agent will be mighty pleased to hear from you,” he says, punctuated by a firm press of his palm to your warm core. “Better be nice to her. She can be a real biter if you ain't careful.”

You grasp his wrist and use his hand to pull your panties aside, bringing two of his fingers to swipe through your slit. Joel watches them emerge glistening, eyes slits beneath his lashes, as Cain says, “Gonna need a yes or no from you, Miller.”

Joel’s gaze is hawklike as you bring his fingers to your mouth and slide your tongue along their length. “Yeah.” His voice is coarse as the white scarring over his knuckles. “Yeah, you got yourself a deal.”

Cain grunts his approval, and you both clock the gentle scratching of pen on paper. “Is your agent around to talk now, or should I wait ‘til later?”

You lift your brows, sealing your lips over his fingers, letting them slide, hot and wet, down your throat. You taste the tang of your arousal, blooming outward from your core as Joel’s free hand greedily bunches the fabric of your dress. You’re pressed flush to his chest, your tongue licking sweat and slick from his fingertips.

“Sorry, Danny, my agent’s got her mouth full at the moment. Can’t quite talk.”

Joel’s pupils are puffy in the darkness. Your body is illuminated by the small window in Fred’s office. He likes it when he's swallowed by black. You're the one who looks best in the light, anyway. “Later’s good. Lookin’ forward to takin’ down your Preacher.”

“Careful, Miller. Ego like that will get you in trouble,” says Cain.

“Ego’s got me this far,” says Joel. He’s stopped listening. “See you in confessional.”

And he hangs up the phone, yanking you around the waist so you're straddling his hips, sitting nice and pretty on his lap, his fattening length sitting heavy against his thigh.

Your smile is a wicked, crawling shiver that begins at his tailbone and creeps upward. “You Godless bastard.”

“Tell me all about it,” he says, reaching around your body and shucking your skirt up around your hips. “C’mere.”

You bite down on your grin, cupping his cheek in your palm and kissing him. Joel capitalises on his chance to swallow you whole, prying your mouth open, sliding his tongue along yours, his palms sliding up your arms, conjuring goosebumps.

“My beautiful girl,” he groans, nipping hungrily at your bottom lip. “My perfect, sweet, mean fuckin’ girl. Gonna take down that goddamn Preacher. Gonna take you to Italy.”

“Mmm, Italy.” You sigh happily against him, tasting memory. Gelato and baked ziti. Suntanning on white sand. Rolling around beneath fresh linens and lounging, catlike, on beach chairs, a drink always in hand. The cloying coconut notes of sunscreen and the supple flesh of your ass as he took his time rubbing it all in. “I miss Italy.”

Joel preens at the sound of you practically purring, your body flowering for him, nuances hidden in the slight swirling of your hips, the greedy fistfuls you take of the hair at the nape of his neck. He tilts his chin up, drinking down the proximity of you, your skin silk and perfume and memories of years he’s given you. Your lust-soaked pupils expand, wet and rimmed red near your waterline, desperation you will not vocalise. He watches you teeter on the precipice of your pride and pulls you closer, priming your body to tip sweetly over the edge.

You gasp into his mouth as he hooks his fingers beneath the straps on your shoulders and abruptly yanks down the top of your dress. The fabric pools at the flare of your waist, your nipples stiffening as your tits confront cool air. Joel’s eyes droop, black as pitch, watching the light shift over your heaving chest.

Your breath catches when he touches you. And his hands are there, because they must be, because there is no other choice, curling around your ribs, thumbs brushing the supple swell of your breasts. The shiver wrecks you, coiled tight around your spine, your underwear dampening. You sit right atop his thick, persistent length, grinding absentmindedly to relieve the pressure winding around your stomach, and the fact that you’re in Fred’s office becomes a microcosm of you-and-Joel. There is nothing but.

Joel studies you like he’ll be tested: eyes following the path of his hands, he does not once blink, that suffocating black gaze cupping hot wax over your belly, letting the makeshift bowl tip out in increments. He knows how to keep you alight just long enough to turn needy, desperate, close to inhuman.

“Baby,” you croak, watching the callused tips of his fingers meet your nipples, pinching softly, not quite enough to hurt, just enough to feel it in the steady dripdripdrip of your arousal. You’re pooling in your panties, heady and warm and too-big for this small, small room. Need pushes outward against the walls, boxing you in tight, locking you in gravity with his body.

Joel clicks his tongue. “Be nice ‘n’ quiet, now. Fred’ll have a bird.”

“Oh, please.” Fred doesn’t know half the things you’ve done in his office. You grind down on Joel’s erection and watch his bared teeth glimmer. You need him now.

Head swimming, honeyed and slow, Joel languidly nuzzles his face between your breasts, alternating between soft licks and playful bites. Your sternum is electrified, your bare skin humming for his touch. Joel cups the scruff of your neck in his rough hand and leaves open-mouthed kisses from your throat to your jaw. You moan, your head lolling backward, cradled safely in his palm, pushing out your breasts to give him better access. He grins, chest puffing up, leaving a deeper-than-usual imprint of his teeth in your pulse point. Your answering shudder, your throaty little groan, your tug on his hair, bordering on painful, please him to no end. His cock twitches underneath you, aching to be freed.

“Actually, baby, go ahead and be as loud as you like. I sign his checks.”

Your reproach is halfhearted, muffled in his throat, the echo of the fightin’ bell vibrating low in your body. “I sign his checks,” you point out, nibbling his earlobe, your fingers tugging his too-long curls. He needs a cut before his next fight.

Joel chuckles, pressing his fingers to your clit over your ruined panties. “You need me in here? Need me nice ‘n’ deep?”

You moan like a whore at the friction, hips bucking. You pulse uselessly, emptily, the slow grind of your clit along his length not enough. “Joel, please… fuck, I need… need you inside. Please fuck me, honey, please. I’ll die if you don’t fuck me.”

“Oh, baby,” he says mockingly, shifting your panties to the side and sliding his fingers through your soaked slit. “So fuckin’ wet. Poor baby girl needs a mean old man to show her a good time.”

Your eyes are frenzied, wild, sweat glistening at your temples. You nod frantically, your hand dipping between your bodies to squeeze his cock over his shorts. Joel grunts, fisting your hair. “I need it,” you mewl. “Fuck, I need it. Need your big fucking cock. You’re so big.”

The harsh rapping of knuckles on Fred’s office door deters neither of you. Still grinding, still palming at him, you don’t stop, arousal clouding your judgement. “Dirty fuckin’ girl,” Joel grits out. “He’s right outside. You wanna make him mad?”

You whine. You don’t want to piss off Fred—not really.

But you’re nodding anyway, rocking yourself against him, puffing out incomplete wisps of his name that dissipate as smoke on the air.

The knocking escalates, now desperate.

“I swear to God,” shouts Fred, pounding hard on his door, “if you two don’t stop right now, I’m banning the both of you for fucking life.”

Joel groans, letting Fred hear it, his forehead resting against yours. “Goddammit.”

You pout, hips slowing to a crawl on his lap. Your core is still tightly-wound, his erection no less firm against your inner thigh, but the moment has passed. For now.

“Later,” you whisper.

He gives your tits a fond squeeze before he helps you secure your straps back over your shoulders.

Later.

“Just like that, baby. Good. That’s a good girl.”

“It doesn’t feel right, Joel.”

“That’s because you’ve never done it before. It’ll take time. Now, c’mon, arms up.”

You huff, raising your fists the way he’s taught you, letting him adjust your stance as he circles you. “Higher,” he says plainly. You obey, your left hand obscuring your face; Joel curls his own fist around it and untucks your thumb. “Thought I taught you how to throw a good punch. What’s this?” He wiggles your thumb.

Your Joel is all business when it comes to self-defence. Your face warms as he puts his hands on your waist to shift your feet, but he’s clinical. He doesn’t let you steal a kiss or flirt your way out of a lesson.

Plenty of time for that once I know you’re safe, he says. Bastard.

“That’s good, baby. Much better.” And fuck it all, his praises make you a little more pliant to his commands, buzzing with the prospect of finally getting him into bed tonight. If you listen, you’ll get out sooner, and you’ll get his dick. You cycle your mantra in your head as Joel lifts his naked palms to you.

“Now,” he says, “you ready to fight?”

You glare. “Not before you announce me.”

The grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. He may be stern about your teachings, but he’s a sucker, and he’s always been.

Joel raises his voice to a rare boom, alerting those few stragglers still packing up their gear around the pair of you. “You know her. You love her. If you don’t, you better check your goddamn priorities. You wanna see her kick some ass.” He’s cupping his hands over his mouth and mimicking the roar of the crowd. “She’s The Agent, and she’ll sign your contract… for termination.”

A few stray whoops and whistles erupt from the meagre crowd. You take an extravagant, swooping bow and bring your fists back up at the ready.

“C’mon, now. Show me what you've got,” says Joel, clapping his palms together and presenting them for you to punch. “Keep your guard up.”

You only waver for a moment, and you’re certain he sees the frown that ticks across your brow. “I don't wanna—”

Joel shakes his head, beckoning you with a flick of his fingers. “You can't hurt me, baby. C’mon. Be mean. Be a killer.”

Your face screws up in concentration as you aim a blow at his palm. You’re thrown off balance more than he, who barely budges. He steadies you with a hand at your waist and merely repositions you to hit him again. The only satisfaction you find is in the demarcated circle of tender pink that’s begun to grow where your punch landed.

“Not bad, if you could stay upright,” says Joel.

“Do you want to get your dick inside me tonight, Miller, or would you prefer to sleep on the couch?”

His crooked smile ignites your competitive side. “Hit me again.”

“I was put on this earth to be pretty and shout at people, Joel. I was not meant to fight. That’s why you’re here.”

“And you do a beautiful job, baby. Now, hit me.”

Throwing less of your body and more of your arm into the second blow, you manage to strike at his hand hard enough to rock it backward. He grunts his approval and nods for you to go again. “Don’t overextend your arm. You’ll pull somethin’ that way. Keep it tight to your body, block your precious organs, and hit me nice ‘n’ controlled.”

You’re alarmed by the low pitch of his voice as he instructs you, the timbre pulling taut at your core. It’s the same tone he uses when he wants to direct your body, mould you the way he likes, make you bend to the shape that pleases him best. Your fist tightens and you hit him again.

For making me wet at the gym, you asshole.

You throw another punch, remembering to keep your arm tucked in, your gut protected, and a satisfying groan rumbles in his chest.

“That’s it, baby.”

You’ve backed him into the corner of the ring, his spine on the ropes, your knuckles stinging from impact after impact until—

“All right, killer,” he says, closing his hand around your fist when you land your final punch. “That’s enough. Your knuckles are gonna split, and it’s my job to be the bloody one. Right?”

Your chest glistens with a thin smattering of sweat, your noses mere inches apart as he sweeps his gaze over your weary body and licks his bottom lip. Your mouth opens as if to catch the breath he lets go.

He brings your sore hand to his mouth. “Home?” he says gruffly.

His moustache bristles around the crest of your knuckle, mouth pursed to slot perfectly in place. There are few spaces he could occupy that don’t feel as right as this.

His mouth is on you before you’ve turned the key to the front door of your home. He stumbles with you in his grasp, his hard chest flush to your back, walking you toward the bedroom with little ceremony. He’s feverish in the way he mouths wetly at your throat from behind, his fingers splayed over your belly to maintain his own balance. Still, his desire is clumsy, staggering, his other hand kneading your ass despite the fact that it’s wedged between your bodies.

“Easy, Texas,” you laugh. It turns breathless as he sucks on your pulse, his hot mouth drawing blood to the surface just beneath your jaw, the hairs of his moustache tickling your sensitive skin. Your hand flies back, burying your fingers in his locks, as Joel’s grabby hands fiddle with the straps of your dress.

“Want it off,” he grumbles.

You coax him with a couple slow downs while he fumbles with the fabric, and he just shakes his head. “No. Want it off. Lift.”

“Caveman.” You roll your eyes, raising your arms above your head to placate him. He tugs your dress up and over your head, tousling your hair in the process, reaching around your body to squeeze your tits in his hands.

Another laugh bubbles up. “No taking it slow tonight?”

He lands a smack on your ass. “Fuck that. Bend over.”

Your shared bedroom boasts a California King, a smattering of houseplants (your idea—for fresh air), and a mirror on the ceiling, directly above the bed. That was Joel’s idea.

Giggling, you lower yourself over the mattress as he drops to his knees behind you, kissing all the way down your spine, mouthing at the small of your back, hands roving and groping. He squeezes your hips, pinning you against the mattress, his hot breath lifting the hairs on your skin. His lips are wet, warm, pliant against your core—and you choke when he slathers his tongue over your panty-covered asshole, his huge arms hugging your thighs around his ears.

“Joel, holy fuck. Oh my God—”

He bites into the flesh of your ass, his fingers sliding achingly slow up your inner thigh. Your mouth hangs open, cheek pressed to the mattress, as he slides your panties aside and licks a hungry stripe between your folds.

“Ohhhh, God, baby, yeah. Yeah, keep going. Please keep going.”

And he may be a complete asshole, but he’s nothing if not indulgent—so he yanks down your panties, grabs you by the hips, and roughly turns you on your back.

“Keep goin’?” he says gruffly, pressing his middle and ring fingers to your tight hole. “Then look up and watch yourself come in that mirror, baby.”

You shudder, tilting your chin up to catch your own eye in the mirror on the ceiling. It’s fucking obscene to see yourself spread out on the bed, Joel lying between your thighs, your chest rising and falling in the dim light of your twin orange lamps. You watch his hand creep up your belly, pressing gently on your sternum as if to anchor you in place, and a whimper leaves your mouth when he dips his head to taste you.

His fingers slide through your wetness and stretch open your cunt as he laps lazily at your clit, keeping you malleable and relaxed and soaking-fucking-wet. Your back arches into his rough palm, a crescendo of Joel oozing from the corners of your mouth. He hums, adding to the chorus, his fingers’ percussive rhythm (in-out, in-out, punctuated by a tortuous curl against your sweetest spot) dragging out the song of your pleasure. He’s an expert by now. A fucking maestro.

“Ahh, yes, right there,” you gasp, your fingers threading through his hair, “rightthererightthererightthere! Yes, yes!”

You squeeze him as he fucks you with his fingers, relentless in the pursuit of his victory, your high. His lips, briefly mesmerised by the crease where your thigh meets your hip, now migrate to your pussy, flattening between your folds and flicking at your pearly wet clit. In the mirror above your head, you see the flutter of your thighs, the intake of breath, the greedy curl of your hand in his locks.

He’s going to fucking kill you.

You taste iron and realise you’ve bit your lip. Joel, of course, occupied by your pretty clit but spying to make sure you’re still watching your reflection, spots it, and slides his hand to your throat, squeezing gently at the pulse points on both sides before he slips the pad of his thumb past your bottom lip.

You moan around him, your jaw forced open, blood smearing around the tip of his thumb, mingled with saliva. It blinds you, the fucking filth of it, as he removes his thumb only to hook his hand around your chin and flatten two fingers to your tongue.

He likes to open you up this way. Your body takes him in so readily, happily sucking on the fingers in your mouth and squeezing down on those in your pussy like a goddamn bear trap. His healing knuckles sting from the sensation of being trapped deep inside you, where he fucking belongs. Tongue lapping at your clit, a cat to milk, Joel watches as your body begins to writhe underneath him, your eyes still dutifully fixed on the mirror, and he knows.

He knows exactly the tells you begin to display for him: the hitch of your breath halfway up your throat, the way it hollows in a little pool, the perpetual grinding of your hips against his face. Your stomach is tightening, your cunt slick with the relentless push-pull of his fingers.

He removes his mouth briefly from your clit, using the heel of his palm instead, letting you roll your hips up against him. “Gonna come, baby?” he asks, a little breathless, eyes wild and black.

You nod, whining, your fingers tugging at his scalp until tears prickle in his ducts. He groans, biting into your thigh, and watches as your pussy convulses, a drop of your own wetness splashing onto his forearm.

A minute tick of his brow.

Oh, yeah. He knows.

“Fuck,” he says under his breath, the frothy slick of your arousal webbing between his fingers. “Yeah, you’re gonna fuckin’ come. You’re gonna get me all fuckin’ wet with this creamy pussy, baby.” He grins at the sight of the tears slipping from your eyes, your eager sucking as you take his fingers down your throat. “You’re gonna watch yourself squirt. You hear me?”

Your thighs twitch, your hips bucking in his hand, and he feels fucking strong. He feels like the goddamn winner.

He takes his fingers from your mouth so he can hear your cries, your bruised lips spilling over with molten gold pleas and chants. It’s garbled, it’s nonsense, you’re coming—

And Joel, the fucking asshole, gets you there with a smile on his face, his palm rubbing hard against your needy clit, his fingers curling into the spot that forces the pressure up, up, out…

“Thaaat’s it, baby. Soak me, c’mon. Get me all wet.”

“Joel, Joel, Joel, ffffffffffuck—”

It’s the intermittent hiss of a pressure-release valve, your juices splattering onto Joel’s chin, glistening obscenely in the hairs on his chest, your hips bucking wildly against his face. He growls into you, his hand pressing down on your belly as he fucks his fingers in and out, in and out, the filthy shlick of your wet cunt warming your cheeks. Joel’s mouth is latched to your hypersensitive clit as you writhe beneath him, lengthening the torture just enough to make you scream, your thighs suffocating him.

More wetness spurts from your cunt as Joel retracts his fingers. Crawling back up your body with gentle kisses to your soft, sweat-slick skin, he pulls you slowly back into yourself, no longer staring absently at yourself in the mirror but blinking up at him, a sleepy smile crinkling the corners of your eyes.

“Knew you could do it,” he says with a crooked grin.

You smack his shoulder. “You're such a dick,” you croak.

“That any way to say thank you, baby girl?” Joel takes your nipple between his teeth and playfully swats your other breast.

You tug his hair. “Joel!”

“Not quite.” He presses his lips to your sternum, his hands kneading your tits.

Your moan is soft and sighing, your hips wiggling underneath him with what little room you have. “Mmm, yeah. Like that, baby. Touch me.”

“All I ever wanna do”—his mouth moves, carving a path to your jaw, the strong curve of his nose tilting your chin up so you’re forced to watch yourself in the mirror once more—“is touch you.”

His dick is a heavy, throbbing weight in his shorts, which he shucks down with little ceremony, tossing aside his shirt and socks so he can hover, skin-to-skin, above your body.

Briefly, he studies you, swiping your tears away with his thumb, his arm flexing next to your head. You smile through your daze, cupping his cheek in your palm. The prickling of his beard makes an imprint on your skin as he nuzzles your hand.

“Your turn to watch,” you whisper, brushing the pad of your thumb across his chin. “Lie on your back.”

Joel rolls you on top of him, sitting atop his length, hot and pulsing beneath your messy cunt. You place your hands on his chest, gently rolling your hips. Joel groans, his hands flying to your hips.

“Jesus, baby.”

“You need someone to take care of you, Texas.” Your hands caress his chest, the rippling muscles of his biceps, the taper of his waist. “You worked hard today. You signed a deal.”

“You signed a deal. Shit—” His voice breaks as you take a playful bite of his throat, smacking your flank in feeble retribution. “Shit, baby. Sit on my dick.”

“You wanna come?” You grind down on him, coaxing precum out of his tip and cleaning it off his belly with your finger. Joel watches with lidded eyes as you spread it around your used clit. “Watch the mirror, baby.”

With your guidance, your nose tilting his chin skyward, Joel obeys, admiring the curve of your naked spine in the mirror, the way your body undulates on top of him. You're a fucking vision. He’s void of a reason you’d pick him, but your reverent hands are trailing up and down his muscled torso, and Joel doesn't give a fuck why as long as you keep choosing him.

You finally reach between your bodies and sink down to the hilt. He bares his teeth, fingers ironclad around your hips. You’re careful in your study of him as you lift yourself up and drop back down, admiring the cut of his jaw as he keeps his head angled toward the mirror.

And fuck, he stretches you—wrenched open around him, you’re consumed, filled to the throat, ruined, and Joel’s pleading with you to move, baby, but you don't know if you can. Your thighs tremble with the effort, your body weak from your orgasm, and you feel you’ve all but failed him until his hands begin to slide up your spine and pull you down, flush to his chest.

“Just like this,” he says into your ear, wrapping his fist around your hair. “C’mon, baby. Ride me just like this.”

Your teeth latch onto his shoulder as you bob up and down on his dick, eliciting precisely the strained groans you want to hear from him. “That's it,” he huffs, his mouth perpetually open, sliding against your temple.

He's still watching you writhe in the foggy mirror, the delicious dips and planes of your figure haloed by the fuzzy light pooling in the room. His cock twitches inside you, hot and wet and so fucking tight, your chests sliding together with the rhythmic dance of your joined bodies.

It's a tangle of limbs and extremities and it smells like the musk of sweat, sex, perfume still lingering. It's the dizzying scent of your shampoo. It's your mewling cries of his name as you ride him like a spoiled fucking princess. His balls pull tight, his head swimming, spiralling with the feel of you so warm and soft in his arms.

Joel’s tongue loosens, his high a foregone conclusion. “You wanted to ride me in that chair today. Ain't that right, baby girl? You wanted to get fucked all loose right out in the open. I’d do it. I’d sit you right on my dick in front of everyone else and let ‘em see how fuckin’ pretty you are when you come. None of ‘em could touch. All of ‘em wanna fuck you. They think you’re so goddamn pretty, so tight and soft. You wanna show ‘em?”

You suddenly seize, your hands grasping his hair, face buried in his throat, and you're gushing. You're fucking squirting again, and it’s everywhere: beading in the trail of hair on his belly, dripping down his balls, smearing between your bodies as you continue to ride him in the haze of your climax.

“Oh, Jesus. Goddamn—shit—”

Joel groans, his eyes at last shuttering as his arms wind around your body to clutch you tight. Teeth bared against your cheek, he pumps you full. It's hot, sticky, messy. It’ll need a change of bedsheets. It wrings every ounce of energy from his bones and fogs up the mirror until you're both smudges of skin and hair.

You begin to giggle, your face hidden in the crook of his neck, your entire body trembling. Joel isn't sure what's funny, but he starts to laugh in tandem.

“Gotta clean you up,” he mumbles, absently pressing kisses along your jaw. “Made a fuckin’ mess, baby.”

“Hmph. I’ll think about it.” You’re settling in for a winter’s nap, it seems, tucking yourself into his side. Joel caresses your back, delighted by the thrilling little shivers that visibly travel up your spine.

His ears stop ringing after a minute or two. He stares up at the mirror for twice as long as that as clarity begins to seep back into the glass from the corners. Your lashes flutter against his bare skin every time you blink.

“Do you really think I can beat him?”

The question lingers long after it's asked, the way smoke from a candle still swirls after it's burned out.

You make a soft sound of acknowledgement. “What makes you think you can’t?”

“He’s a good fighter. Don’t matter that he’s an asshole.”

Your soft, melodic hum tells him you're falling asleep. “Funny. I say the same thing about you all the time.”

“Just…” He swallows. “Just promise me somethin’.”

You lift your head, eyes alert and blinking. “Promise me that we’ll be good,” he says tightly. “That we could lose it all right now, right this second, and we’d still be okay. You’d still be here.”

You prop yourself up on your elbow. He wants to wipe away the gash between your brows. “I must not have done a very good job of lovin’ you if you really think I’d leave,” you say sweetly, your fingers trailing up and down his arm. “I’m in your corner, Texas. And it’s not just because you need me. We don’t need a big house and a pool and a home gym. We never used to have any of that.”

You’re smiling now, eyes glittering in the relative darkness. Joel exhales, and his entire body shudders as if plucking out his lungs and lending them to you.

“I’ll love you when you win, and I’ll love you if you lose,” you tell him. “You’re my guy.”

Joel nods: a simple tip of his head. He doesn't need much more than that.

He may not need to win, but for you, for this, he will.

#kiwisbell's fics #joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #the last of us #joel miller fluff #boxer!joel #joel miller fic #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic #tlou fic

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crashandlivewrites · 3 months

Text

I Need Your Discipline

My participation in @glitterypirateduck's SoapItUp event! I was initially gunning for Captain MacTavish but it wasn't coming together. Maybe I can get a second one out before the deadline.

Pairing: Soap x fem!reader

Summary: Soap 'accidentally' sends you a dick pic. You decide to teach him how to take nicer photos. Using prompt 29: "Was this your plan the entire time?"

CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, cunnilingus, fingering (f receiving), unsolicited dick pic, consensual sending of nudes, coming in underwear

Word Count: 3.6k (it really got away from me whoops)

Captain Price had your attention all the way up until your phone buzzed in your pocket. Frowning, you took it out. You hadn’t been expecting a message from anyone and usually during meetings, you flicked it to only allow messages from fellow army personnel. Maybe you’d forgotten this time.

One glance at the screen told you that Soap had messaged, which wasn’t surprising. He often got bored and liked to pick jokes during Price’s long debriefs. However, when you snuck a glance at him, he wasn’t paying any attention to you like he usually would be while waiting for a reaction. Frowning, you opened his message.

It was his dick. Holy shit, Soap had sent you a picture of his penis. Suppressing a snort and shutting off your phone, you jerked your head up in confusion, trying to catch his attention, but he was acting completely engrossed with your Captain’s words. Sure, he’d always been light-hearted and playful, rubbing shoulders flirtatiously and throwing an arm around you any chance he got, but you’d also seen him out at the pub when he was actually trying to get in someone’s pants. And it had never seemed that way when he was taking to you, as much as you wanted it. Until now.

Glancing back down at the message, you realised there was another message after it.

> Just got back. Ready to hit pound town?

This time, you only just managed to cover your snort with a cough, earning the briefest of glances from Kyle sitting to your right. Quickly, you type a reply.

< Not the welcome home present I was expecting from you, MacTavish

Soap reached into his pocket a few moments later, pulling out his phone with a smirk on his face to read the message. His face then morphed into confusion before his eyes visibly widened and snapped up to meet yours. Raising your eyebrows, you tilted your head questioningly at him. His fingers flew over the keys.

> Fuck. That wasn’t for ye. I’m really fucking sorry

< Ouch. Nice to know I’m not good enough for your dick pics

> Shoulda told me ye were feelin left out. Coulda sent one to ye earlier. Would that make ye feel better?

< Nah. Received too many dick pics in my time. There are nicer ways to take nudes

Soap lifted his head, brow creasing and lips pouting as though insulted at your statement. You grinned back at him, shrugging as you waited for him to reply.

> My dick is pretty, thanks. Plenty of girls have liked it

< Didn’t say that. Just saying there’s nicer ways to take hot pics than just a straight up dick shot

> Oh yeah? Like what?

Biting your lip, you wondered if you really wanted to do this. You watch Price momentarily as you thought through the pros and cons of sending your teammate a nude of your own.

Pro: you’re sending a hot picture of yourself to the guy you’ve been crushing on

Con: he may not be interested in you

Pro: if things go south, you also have his dick pic to hold ransom

Con: he’s less likely to be embarrassed by his dick getting passed around base. Especially when it looked like THAT.

You could feel his eyes boring into the side of your head, waiting for your response. sucking in a deep breath, you scroll through your private photos, selecting one of your favourites. The picture accentuated your body as you were leaning against a wall wearing a pretty thong with one hand draped across your chest to squeeze your tits together and cover them over the middle. Grinning to yourself, you sent it to him.

You knew he’d received the image when a choked off cough sounded from his side of the room. Glancing over, you could see Ghost thump him over the back as Soap sheepishly held up a bottle of water.

“Sorry. Down the wrong pipe.” He wheezed; cheeks tinged pink as he met your eyes before returning to his phone.

> What the fuck

> Warn a man before ye send shite like that

> Is that really you?

> Fuck me I ken ye were bonnie but darlin

> Ye got me bricked rn

A warm rush of arousal surged through you, knowing that one little photo had sent him into a spiral. Smirking, and refusing to meet his heavy gaze, you focused on Price for the remainder of the meeting, ignoring the fact your phone was buzzing incessantly.

When Price finally dismissed the team, you didn’t even have time to push yourself up before the loud scrape of Soap’s chair filled the room and he marched over to you, nudging you out the door. His grip was like a vice on your arm as he steers you until he found an empty hallway. He pushed your back against the wall.

“We gonna talk about what that was?” He holds up his phone and waves it in your face. Shrugging, you leaned back against the wall, arms folding across your chest.

“You sent it first. Was just showing you what a good picture looks like.”

“My pictures look nice.” His tone was indignant as he frowned, glancing down the hall to check no one was coming towards you.

“Sure, because you’re decently attractive. That’s the only reason they’re passable.”

“Decently attractive…” He huffs, looking haughty as he crossed his arms.

“Why did you find my photo hot?”

“I never said that.” Clearing your throat dramatically, you pulled out your phone and began to read in a mockery of his accent.

“What the fuck? Warn a man before you send shite like that. Is that really you—”

“Haud yer wheesht! Fine, it was fucking hot.”

“Why was it hot, MacTavish?” He chewed the inside of his cheek and glanced at the floor as he rocked back on his heels.

“It was… sexy, without showing too much. Teasing and… fucking shite- fine! It made me want tae come over there and rip yer bloody kit off.” The corners of your lip twitched upwards, and you couldn’t fight the smirk that spread across your face.

“You wanna see another?”

The way his face lit up was almost comedic, before he frowned again.

“Yer fucking having me on, aren’t ye?” He scowled.

Pushing yourself off the wall, you slid your hands into your pockets, tilting your head as you stared at him coaxingly. He met your gaze, eyes squinting as he seemingly tried to read your expression before he sighed, head dipping for a moment before lifting back up again.

“I’d like fer ye tae send me another.” He asked begrudgingly, fingers toying with his phone. “Please.”

Biting your lip to prevent him from seeing your sly grin, you picked out another. This one was taken from over your shoulder, the curve of your ass framed by a pretty black thong. His phone buzzed and his attention immediately snapped to it before he groaned.

“Steamin’ hell, yer… shite, I cannae do this here.” He growls, eyes flashing dark with lust as they looked up at you. Blinking at him innocently only made his lip curl. “What’re ye playing at, darlin’?”

“Just showing you how to really rile someone up.”

“I’ll show ye riled up in a mo—”

“Would you like me to teach you, John?” You queried, seeing the interest immediately perk in his eyes. He paused in mid stride towards you, lips pursing.

“Ye wanna teach me how tae take photos like that? I appreciate the effort, hen, but I’m not as bonnie as ye are. Ain’t got the tits fer that.”

“You got tits aplenty, MacTavish. Look at them.” Reaching out, you squeeze his pecs with a teasing grin, and he bats your hand away playfully. “You’re hot, Johnny. Lemme just help you… accentuate it.”

“Yer boostin mah ego there, lass.” He titters, eyes sharp as they trail down your body. “Ye sure yer willing?”

“You sure you’re happy to miss out on your booty call for an impromptu photo shoot with your teammate?” You snark back, stepped forward to meet him halfway, boots tapping against his. Soap chuckled, finger tracing along your jaw as he leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper.

“After ye sent me these?” He scoffs, waving his phone in front of your face. “I’ve got all the time in the world fer ye.” The look on his face was smug as he leaned back. Your face matched his as you gripped the front of his shirt.

“Come with me then.”

As you shut your door behind you, you turned around to see Soap already tugging off his uniform.

“Why are you taking your clothes off already?” You growled at him; eyes sharp as you shook your head. Soap’s brows furrowed, halfway between shrugging his shirt off.

“Are we not takin’ nudes?” He asked bluntly, head tilting to the side. Letting out a breathy laugh, you locked your door and walked over to him, ruffling his mohawk causing him to squawk in protest.

“Nudes aren’t just about being naked, idiot.”

“Aye, they are. Is that not the whole point?” Rolling your eyes, you push him into a chair and wheel him in front of a mirror and standing behind him.

“When you take photos of yourself at the gym— don’t lie, I know you do.” You frowned down at him as he opened his mouth, about to process. “When you take photos of yourself at the gym, what do you look for?”

His face pinched in thought. “Making myself look good, I guess.” He shrugged. “Gettin’ my good angles.”

“Taking nudes is much the same. You’re a fit guy. Work your body into the shots too.”

“Aye, but I’m still fully clothed.” He points out, raising his brow as he looks at you in the mirror. Clicking your tongue, you leaned down, hands sliding down his firm chest as you plucked open his buttons, one by one.

“It’s the uniform, MacTavish. Use it.” You purred into his ear, pressing a kiss to the shell of it. He groaned softly; eyes fluttering closed as his breathing deepened. “See?” You pushed open his shirt revealing his toned chest. His eyes were fixed on you in the mirror, watching your every move with focused intent.

“Now lean back slightly, spread your legs, roll your sleeves up, and tuck your thumb into your belt.” He did as you said, and you helped adjust the final touches, ruffling his hair once more before stepping out of sight. “Now take a few. You can change positions a little. Feel yourself, you know? Take what looks good.”

You let him sit there for a few minutes, watching him closely as you leaned against the wall out of shot, feeling your body react to him. He was a natural taking pictures, adjusting his positioning slightly as he got into the feel of it. Finally, when he was satisfied, he turned his head to look at you, seeking your approval. Smiling, you stepped towards him, cupping his head as he blinked up at you expectantly. Resting your chin on his shoulder, he flicked through the photos for you.

“Look at you. Don’t you look hot?”

“Ye really think so?” His voice was soft as he turned his head slightly towards you. His long lashes cast slightly shadows over his cheeks, and you found yourself drawn into him. Blinking and breaking the trance, you didn’t answer, instead choosing to chuckle and raise your brow, standing back up.

“Shirt off, next. Belt too but leave your pants on.” Soap nodded under your instruction, face flushing pink as he quickly rid himself of the items you’d specified, leaving him in his combat boots and pants. “Same kinda thing. Move around, pose. Flex a little. Especially your forearms and hands.”

Again, you stepped back, this time admiring him more closely as he got more comfortable, turning around and playing with different angles. Your eyes drifted along the lines of back, tracing down his body as you felt the tension building in the room.

Stepping forward, you came in behind him, hands sliding down his sides until you got to the buttons of his pants, undoing them with practiced ease. His cock pulsed with interest, and you could feel him thickening as you slid your hand down his front, rewarded with a soft groan.

“Fuckin’ hell, hen. Ye’ve nae idea what ye do tae me.”

“I have somewhat of a feeling.” You grinned over his shoulder, tucking his boxer briefs down so the base of his cock was evident in the mirror. “Take a picture of that.” You whispered, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades before stepping back once more.

Soap cursed, head turning to look at you with longing as you stepped back, but you pointed to the mirror, and he diligently turned. His hand slid down the toned planes of his body, thumb hooking in the waistband of his underwear and tugging them down to expose the thick base of his cock, hair trimmed, but on the longer side.

Instead of looking at the camera, or at himself in the mirror, his eyes were on you, heady and lustful. The corners of your lips twitched upwards, and you began to slowly remove your own clothing until you were in nothing but your bra and underwear. Swearing under his breath, Soap roamed every inch of your exposed body, palm pressing into his groin as his hips jutted forwards.

“Ye gonna fuckin’ ruin me, doll.”

“Take off your pants and get on the bed, MacTavish.”

“Aye, ma’am.” He said, eagerly moving to kick off his boots and pants before rolling onto the bed. Eagerly following behind him, you shuffled up the bed on your knees, straddling his thighs as your hands slid up to cup his semi-hard erection.

“See how we’re not even naked and you’re already swelling in your boxers?” He groaned, head tipping back against the headboard as your hand pressed against him, working him up to full hardness.

“It’s all you, hen. Fuck yer makin’ me ache.” He whined, eyebrows tilting upwards as he pleaded for more. Shaking your head, you took your hands off him to unclasp your bra and throw it aside.

“One more. Want you to hold your cock and press it up against the fabric, so we can see the outline of the head.”

He swore again but did as you asked. Gripping his cock tightly, he slapped it a few times against his leg as he stared at your breasts, swallowing thickly before turning his attention to the camera and taking a few shots. But it didn’t last long.

Releasing his cock and throwing his phone aside, Soap wrapped his arms around you, flipping you over on the bed. As you lay sprawled, slightly surprised by the sudden change in position, Soap loomed above you, smirk evident on his face.

“Yer in fer it now, dollie. Been teasin’ me this whole time. Getting tae touch me like that, tell me how to hold my own damn cock. Nah… I’m gonna touch you now.” He purred, eyes predatory as his hands squeezed your tits, thumbs flicking over your nipples, making you moan softly, arching your back.

Soap titters, sliding further down your body to push your legs apart and settle himself between them. Humming to himself, he ran a finger down your covered centre, circling your clit lightly before prodding at your soaked entrance.

“All this just from seein’ me take a few pics?” His eyes were gleaming in excitement as he hooked a finger underneath the material of your thong and pulled it aside. “Jesus, hen… ye look like a god damn dream.”

Perching yourself up onto your elbows, you looked down at him between your legs, watching his expression as he tugged your underwear to the side and lowered his mouth to blow air over the wet, sensitive skin.

“What’s this? Cannae stand a wee bit of teasing, bonnie lass?” You whined at his cocky tone, lifting your hips up slightly and he cooed, sliding your underwear down your legs and tossing it onto his pants. “I’m keeping that, just so you know.”

Before you even had the chance to protest, his hands ran up the backs of your legs, spreading them out and holding them down as he sucked kissed along your inner thighs, nipping slightly as he went.

“John…” Rolling your hips, you gripped the sheets in frustration. “Stop being an ass and put your mouth on me.”

“God, yer pure gaggin’ fer it, ain’t ye?” His grin was feral as he dragged the lip of his tongue ever so lightly against the hood of your clit. “Admit this was what ye wanted as soon as ye got that snap of my cock.”

In the dizzy haze of arousal, his words sparked something, and you stared down at him, eyes narrowed.

“Was this your plan all along? Was there ever another girl you were meant to send that photo to?” He shrugged, lapping at your cunt and making your toes curl with pleasure as he chuckled against you, the vibrations sending shivers through your body.

“That’s my secret tae ken, dollie. ‘Sides, ye really gonna complain when it’s yer bed I’m in and yer legs I’m between?” His smug expression made you want to bite back some sarcastic reply, but you just couldn’t find the words. “Didnae think so.”

His mouth lowered onto your throbbing cunt, one hand moving to spread you open so his tongue could press in, tasting you. He groaned deeply, fingers digging into your leg as the thumb on his other hand flicked over your clit. His hips ground into the bed as he did so, making him moan again.

Pulling back, you could see the sticky wetness of your arousal already covering his bottom lip and chin. As if he could tell where you were looking, he stuck out his tongue and dragged it along his lower lip, grinning as he watched you.

“Cannae believe ye been holdin’ out on me. Could sit here between these legs and eat this cunt out for hours. Tastes so fucking good.” He dove back in, wrapping his lips and sucking on your clit as his fingers pressed into you.

You gasped at the stretch, back arching off the bed as his fingers began to move, scissoring and spreading your cunt wider for him. He continued to suck your clit, tongue dragging over it as you cried out, gripping the sheets tightly as your pussy clenched around his fingers.

“Fuck— Johnny please. God, you’re so fucking good.” You moaned breathlessly, panting as sweat beaded on your forehead. Soap let out a rumbling laugh as he kept his face pressed into your cunt, desperately trying to bring you over the edge.

Lifting your head to look at him, you saw his hips driving desperately into the bed where the sheets had bundled up underneath his crotch. You managed to find your voice.

“I taste that good huh? You gonna come just from eating me out?” He nodded eagerly, fingers curling and pumping into you with renewed intensity, heat curling viciously in your gut.

“So fucking good. So fucking good fer me.” He mumbled; eyes boring into yours. “Please… I’m so fucking close. Need you tae come fer me, aye?”

You nodded, panting, watching him as he focused his attention solely on you, humming softly as you felt your cunt throb with intense need, the feeling in your belly growing.

“Johnny— oh fuck, please. Please!” Your legs twitched as your hips hitched upward and, with a cry of his name, you let yourself go, pussy spasming around his fingers as he groaned into your cunt, happily lapping at your juices as you climaxed.

As you calmed down, body sagging into the bed, you looked down at Soap who was resting his head against your thigh, eyes glazed as he grinned up at you smugly.

“Enjoy yerself there?”

“Don’t act like you didn’t enjoy it too.” You bit back, wiping your brow as you grinned lazily down at him. “I can see the mess in your underwear.”

Soap simply shrugged, rolling onto his back to remove his underwear, wiping the remnants of his cum from his dick before sliding himself up the bed to settle next to you.

“I said ye tasted fucking divine.”

“Shut up, Johnny.” You pushed him slightly and he laughed, wrapping his arm around you.

“We should keep this going.” He murmurs softly, glancing up at you. Blinking in surprise, you look over at him.

“Thought you didn’t do relationships, MacTavish.” You warned, mostly for your own sake. He simply shrugged.

“Wouldnae mind having ye ‘round to take some more photos with.” He said simply, nestling into the crook of your neck. “And I wouldnae mind eating that cunt every mornin’.”

You rolled your eyes, but threaded your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp lightly as he cuddled in close.

“So those pictures we took are going to waste then, since you’re keeping me around?” You tease, poking his nose. He sniffs.

“Gonna send them tae you instead. Make ye think about naught but my steamin’ hot body every meeting.”

You smacked him over the head as you laughed, shaking your head at him.

“Price’ll kill you if he finds out.”

“Worth it.” He mumbles once more, squeezing you closer as he pressed a kiss to the base of your neck.

#crash writes #soapitup #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #soap x reader #john soap mactavish smut #john mactavish smut #soap smut #call of duty smut #cod smut #john soap mactavish #john mactavish #soap mactavish #soap call of duty #soap cod

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mockerycrow · 11 months

Note

Hey hey, can I request the 141 boys + König's reaction to a random soilder slapping fem! Reader's ass, preferably platonic! where they see reader as a sister. Thank you your work is *chef's kiss*

141 + König’s Reaction to Fem!Platonic!Reader’s Ass Slapped By Rando

cod masterlist

I’m having a 400 follower celebration!!

A/N: I feel ehhh about this one, but rest assured that i tried!! also, all characters are aware you can defend yourself. they are just protective.

You were talking with him softly, leaning an arm on the nearby counter with your hips jetted out. You laughed at something he said, your head tilting to the right for a moment before there’s a loud smack! you make a panicked noise and turn around quickly and you’re met with the face with a young man with a smug face, with an expression like he did something that you liked. Your eyebrows furrow and you prepare to give the young man an ass whooping when he swoops in.

-> John Price

“Keep your bloody hands to yourself, soldier!” Oh, Price is fucking fuming. He doesn’t stand for workplace harassment and unwanted touching for anyone, this is the fucking military—not a place to try to hookup.

Price does not let the man get a word in, even when the man is stuttering out his apologies—that are ordered by Price, by the way—and he drags him out of the kitchen area to file an official report of his behavior.

He subtly threatens the man, ensuring that if this behavior continues, “you will be dealt with. I will promise you on that.”

Price is very aware that you can handle yourself, but he just was not in the mood.

-> Kyle Garrick

He’s seething and Kyle doesn’t hesitate to push the man away from you, shouting, “Have you gone absolutely mad?!”

It does not matter if this man ranks above Kyle, he throws ranks out the window by this point, yelling about how he’s disgusting. “You’re acting like a bloody chav, get ahold of yourself!”

You’re so convinced Kyle is about to punch this guy, but he shows a good amount of self-restraint, spitting another insult through gritted teeth, voice low, “Next time you’re being dodgy, I’m throwing you to the fuckin’ wolves.”

-> John MacTavish

He pushes himself between you and the offender, an unhappy and unamused look prickling at his features. He has a faux-smile, his lips tight and uncomfortable. He laughs and claps a hand down on the man’s shoulder, making the man wince from the force.

“Buddy!” Soap calls him, his tone edging onto unsettling happiness. He’s absolutely furious because no one deserved unwanted touching. Soap sees you as a little sister and he’s always been protective of his little family. the 141

He leans in and whispers something to the man, causing all of the color to drain from the guy’s face and he runs off, causing you to glance at Soap. “What did you tell him?”

Soap just offers you a cheeky smile. “Oh, y’know, If he decides ta’touch anyone like that ever again, I’ll make sure that he physically cannot.”

-> Ghost

Ghost immediately pulls rank, right away. He isn’t the type to do it really, but this is absolute unacceptable behavior. His voice is dripping venom and is rough as sandpaper, nearly snarling with every word—yet keeping a calm composure at the same time.

“Go outside and dig a hole. Don’t stop until it’s as deep as your height.” “W.. What? Sir..—“ “Do not make me repeat myself. Go on.”

He 100% uses PT (physical training) as a punishment on these types of guys, and ordering him to dig a hole is a task laced with humiliation.

His glare screams “I’ll kill you if you touch her again, and I’m not joking”. Ghost is very protective of the ones he cares about, and that includes you,

-> König

Using his size to his advantage, he looms over the man with a deadly glare, the rumors you’ve heard—the terrifying man that belongs on the battlefield? That very man appears in the common kitchen that night.

He’s also the type to pull rank—and this is one of those times no one realizes he’s a Colonel until he mentions it and absolutely does if the guy talks back to him. “What did you just say to me?”

König snarls with every word, berating the man’s behavior, asking him if he would like that done to him or any woman in his life, etc.

You would have to hold this fucker back from actually hurting him, or else you’d end up with König on a two week suspension.

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satorubi · 1 year

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𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐍 𝐌𝐄 ? - FT. GOJO SATORU, TOJI FUSHIGURO, NANAMI KENTO

✩༄ the jjk men fuck their exes.

— content warning - minors dni! f! reader but feel free to imagine any description you’d like, praise, degrading, cunninlingus, fingering, cowgirl, breeding, slight toxicity??

— notes - first headcon, whoop whoop. i literally need them so bad. enjoy this jjk men brainrot that i’ve cooked up while being bored during a lecture <33

EX HUSBAND TOJI who invited you over in an attempt to make amends, but soon had other plans the moment you entered his home— the man dragging you up the stairs to fuck into your pussy as mercilessly as he could.

“missed me huh? you’re huggin’ it so tightly,” he sighs, watching as your ass bounced against his pelvis; your voice now hoarse from crying out his name.

“yes—toji, please— i’m gonna cum,” you warn, the man refusing to let up as he held you down and pounded into you faster and harder than before. he was so deep in you, and you were loving every waking moment of it— drowning out the past memories of him that once clouded your mind.

“he can’t fuck you like this, huh? because it’s mine right?”

you could only moan in response, eyes shutting tightly from the overwhelming amount of pleasure of your ex-husband rocking into you.

“it’s yours— yes! it’s yours, p-please make me cum!”

your wish was his command. the only sound that could be heard coming from that room was the commotion of toji’s heavy balls slapping against you as he took you to the edge— kissing and biting all over your neck and shoulders while trying his best to fuck you back into his life— because no one would be better than him.

EX BOYFRIEND GOJO who calls you up and is shocked when you answer. after browsing through your instagram feed, seeing that you’ve been glowing since you left him, he needed to prove to you that he was a better man.

what better way to do that than feasting on you in the back seat of his car?

“i can never get tired of tasting this sweet, pussy,” he groans, licking and sucking at your puffy, sensitive bud. you could only sit there and let him— because, if you were being brutally honest, you missed him too.

the tips of your acrylic nails grazed through his snowy, white hair; clawing and pulling at his scalp in a way of asking for more.

“‘toru— that feels so good, i feel like i’m—“

“like you’re what? like you’re gonna’ cum, pretty girl? go ahead, cum for me,” he says, spitting directly on your cunt and lapping at it again. he then stuck a finger in, using the combo to bring you closer and closer to making a mess.

his guttural moans pull you right back into his trap, your hips winding against him as he let you face fuck him like you used to do— when he was yours and you were his. he ate you so passionately, so sloppily, and so much better than any living soul.

EX HUSBAND NANAMI who is still so kind to you, even after your divorce. your heart getting the best of you when allow him into your house to put your daughter to sleep— what you didn’t expect was for him to put you to sleep too.

“god— y/n, i’ve missed you so much, my love,” he whimpers, letting you bounce on top of him as he takes it willingly. his hands gripped at your lower back as he guided your hips up and down, his teeth nibbling at your nipple as you rode him like a bike.

“k-kento, baby, i’m cumming—“

“yes, yes— cum for me. use me, come on, i know you can do it.” his sweet praise was like a song as you squatted over him, the tip of his leaking cock brushing against your cervix as he began to fuck up into you— bringing you closer and closer to your climax.

“f-fuck! nanami!” you cry, hands holding onto his shoulders tightly as he fucked you like he needed you. for a moment, you struggled to keep quiet. it’d slipped your mind that you had a sleeping daughter a few rooms over.

“wow— look at you. you see, i knew you could do it, my sweet girl. can i cum in you? please— baby?”

his ask wasn’t even close to necessary as you began to help him cum, your bounces becoming harder as the sound of skin slapping induced your pace. no matter the time, nor the place, you knew he’d be better than anyone you could ever imagine.

#jjk #toji smut #toji x y/n #nanami x y/n #gojo satoru #jjk smut #gojo smut #nanami smut #WAITTTT CAUSE IM THINKING HARD #☆彡saturn writes :)

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ladykailitha · 1 year

Text

Just on my Steve is smooth operator when he sets his mind on someone agenda. Because remember even Robin thinks he’s striking out because he doesn’t know what he wants. Cue him deciding he wants Eddie and cranking that charm up to eleven.

***

Steve took a deep breath. He was good at this. Just because he had struck out with girls lately didn’t mean he didn’t know how to come on to someone.

He waited until he had a handful of witnesses that wouldn’t hate crime him for this.

Eddie came into Family Video with Dustin, Lucas, and Mike to rent a movie. Will and the rest of Byers family were in the process of moving back to Indiana, so it was just the three boys today.

Steve had sent Robin to make sure there weren’t any other customers before he made his move. He walked up to the metalhead and stepped into his space until their bodies were almost touching.

“Hey, gorgeous.”

Eddie squeaked. “Are you talking to me?”

Steve hummed appreciatively. “Do you see any other doe eyed, dimpled cheeked, long haired metalheads around?” He wrapped his finger around one of Eddie’s curls.

Eddie turned bright red. He pressed his lips together and shook his head.

“So beautiful,” Steve murmured. “Please let me take you out tonight. Say that you will.”

“Yes,” Eddie croaked.

Steve purred. “So good to me.”

Eddie nodded.

“Is seven o’clock good for you, babe?”

“Yes.”

“You are too good to me, gorgeous,” Steve whispered. “I’ll pick you up then.”

Eddie nodded again, his lips pressed into thin line afraid to break the spell that Steve had placed on him.

Steve leaned forward and Eddie let a little moan as he moved past his lips to whisper in his ear.

“I don’t want our first kiss in a video rental store, but make no mistake I will kiss you tonight. I will kiss you breathless.” He twirled the hair in his grasp a little further. “Will you be a good boy and wait for me?”

Eddie let out another squeak. “Yes.”

Just then the door opened and another customer came in.

“That’s too bad, beautiful,” Steve purred, gently untangling his finger from Eddie’s hair. “I’ve got to get back to work. See you tonight.” He patted Eddie on the chest and went to go help the woman who had walked in.

It took Eddie a moment to come back online.

“Did Steve just flirt with me?” Eddie squeaked looking over at the three boys.

Lucas nodded, wide-eyed. “Yeah, man. He hit you with Harrington charm, hard.”

“And did he just ask me out?” Eddie said, his voice a little clearer.

“Yeah, dude,” Dustin said. “It was the smoothest thing I’ve ever seen.”

Eddie nodded and shoved his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “And I said yes, right?”

Mike rolled his eyes. “I don’t know why, but yeah, man. You said yes.”

Eddie jumped up and down, fist pumping and whooping it up. “Yeah baby!”

Steve looked over his shoulder and grinned. He turned back to his customer, shaking his head fondly.

“Aren’t you going to do something about that young man?” the woman sneered.

“Don’t worry, ma’am,” Steve said with a soft smile. “I’ve got it covered.”

#My writing #stranger things #steddie #smooth steve #gay disaster eddie #ladykailtiha writes

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ikarakie · 1 year

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it's corroded coffin's first, proper world tour. they've skyrocketed into the public eye within the last few years, and they couldn't be fucking happier. it's all so amazing, so surreal.

they get to indiana. the crowd is electric, the venue bigger than any of the bars or crappy hole in the walls they used to perform in. eddie steps to the mic nearing the end of the second half of the show.

"indiana, it'a a fuckin' pleasure to be with you tonight." he says, a bit lowly, into the mic. screams fill his ears, thousands of smiling faces. but he's after one in particular. "i'm gonna need your help for a minute here, guys." he motions for the lights to go up, grabs the mic from the stand and crouches close to the barricade, squinting.

"i've got someone out there, mixed up in the crowd." he can't help the fond smile as he says it. "and i wanna find him before this next one. take a quick look around ya, if you're next to a guy about my age, fluffy brown hair, big brown eyes, probably in a preppy little outfit and glasses, give me a scream."

everyone's looking this way and that, eyeing the people around them. thirty seconds later there's screaming to his left. eddie crosses the stage, peers into the crowd. the big screens capture the moment he spots him; his eyes go bright, there's a crooked lovesick grin on his lips.

"hey, sweetheart." he coos into the mic. the crowd bursts into cheers and whoops and chatter. the camera cuts to someone at the barricade, having been pushed forward by others. he's exactly as eddie had described, leaning against the railing and smiling up at the star. for a few seconds they gaze at each other like they're the only ones in the room.

then eddie blows him a kiss, which he catches. eddie laughs a little, brings himself back to center stage. picks his guitar back up and settles mic back into the stand.

"this next one," he begins, adjusting the stand slightly. "is something you haven't heard before." there's unmistakable moisture gathering in his eyes. "i wrote the lyrics entirely myself. it's- it's for those people in my life who i couldn't be here without." his eyes stray back to where steve is, watching him with a watery smile. "those who were there, in '86. who pulled me back up from hell. the bravest fuckin' souls i ever met in my life." he takes a deep breath. hears the rest of the fuckers scream from the VIP area, dustin's voice unmistakable.

"this, my dearest indy, is 'knights of the upside down.'"

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ja3hwa · 15 days

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♡ 𝐌𝐫 𝐑𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐰𝐝𝐲 | 𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐡𝐰𝐚 𝐏𝐭.𝟐 ♡

【Synopsis】 : After finding out those two devilishly handsome masked men were in fact your friends, how are you going to continue your friendship with them now that they want to fuck you stupid?

『Word count』 : 7.25k

-> Genre: Hardcore smut. Fluffy kinda.

Pairing: childhoodfriend!Sanhwa x Afab!Reader

[Warnings] : Fingering. Clit play. Multiple orgasms. Unprotected sex. Breast play. Hickies. Biting. Pet names (doll, darling, sugarcube, bunny, good girl. Princess). Degrading (use of slut, whore and fucktoy). Photographs and videos taken during sex. Seonghwa has a tittie obsession... (whoops) Mentions of mxm and jerking off. Swearing. Heavy making out. Handjob. Use of the safe word. Ass play. Anal finger. Dirty talk. Messy sex. Manhandling. Threesome. Mention of fucking eight men at once (whoops). San and Seonghwa tagteam the reader. Face fucking. Oral. Mention of knocking reader up.

Network: @newworldnet ♡

Masterlist | Navigation | Part One | Buy me a ko-fi

”Seonghwa!? San?!” You cried in confusion, only vaguely aware of the camera still recording your reaction. You were shocked by the sight of your friend’s handsome faces, their deep, almost pitch-black eyes, their full lips twisting up into a smug smirk. San and Seonghwa’s usually neat locks were now messy from the masks. Desire shot through your body, your pussy clamping down on San’s fingers like you didn’t want to let him go. In the next heartbeat, your friend shoved his three fingers ruthlessly into your cunt, his thumb circling your clit with the mission on getting you to your release. It was all too much. You’d already been dangling on the brink of your release and the shock of finding your friends beneath the Ghost face masks mixed with the pleasure they pitilessly delivered to your body, sent you flying over the edge. Your head thumped against the floor and your lips opened wide on a scream as you came all over San’s fingers while Seonghwa never stopped his assault on your breasts, leaving love bites in his wake.

“Good girl, being so fucking good for me, pretty thing,” San murmured as he fucked you through your orgasm, stretching his arm to take the phone from Seonghwa who didn’t unlatch his mouth from your skin. San widened his fingers even as your walls clamped down on him, making you stretch around him as he captured everything on the camera. “You’re doing so well, baby. Fuck look at you, clenching around my fingers like a good fucktoy.”

Lost to the feeling of your mind-blowing orgasm, all you could do was moan in response, feeling overly sensitive with Seonghwa still abusing your tits. You didn’t know if you liked San's dirty talk or his sweet words better and a small part of you worried they were both going to ruin you for all other men if they kept treating you like the most precious thing in the world and a filthy slut at the same time. “S-sannie… Hwa,” you murmured, hands finding Seonghwa’s chest and sliding up to push gently on his shoulders.

San must’ve understood what you meant because the bright light from the flash disappeared, and in the next moment, he was dropping your leg to the ground. It was now Seonghwa's turn to sit between your thighs, covering your body with his, making you hold in your breath. You couldn't help your heart from racing, trying to process the fact that your two friends—Kind, sweet, and caring Seonghwa and San— had been the two men under the masks all along. It almost somehow didn't feel real. You had known them for years after all, and you would have never thought they'd be like this. The fact that San had finger fucked you in your guy's old hangout while Seonghwa litter your chest with hickies just didn’t make sense.

"Oh my god..." You whispered in confusion against your hand as you pinched your brow. You had to push Seonghwa's chest so you could sit up away from them for a moment. Both of them carried a guarded expression, eyes wary. But there was a lustfulness still in their features. Something you’d never seen before in either of them. Something they managed to keep on a tight leash and buried so you would never see it.

You didn’t have time to ponder how your friends were able to make your pussy throb with just a simple look as Seonghwa grabbed your hips, pulling you back down onto the soft cushioning. San snatched both your wrists, pinning them above your head with a proud smirk as you both watched Seonghwa grope a handful of your tits roughly, giving them a sloppy kiss.

"God these fucking tits. You are so perfect, Bunny." Seonghwa groan as he ducked back down to suck your right nipple harshly, "beautiful.." he murmured against your skin as if he was only talking to himself. Your hips bucked against his, seeking the friction your body so desperately craved. A whine breaks free from your lips, making your mind spin. You couldn’t believe how needy you were already, after the knee-shaking orgasm San had already given you prior, but you felt insatiable with your friend’s hands on your body.

"H-hwa, please." You had no real idea why you were begging, but you felt like you needed to nonetheless.

Seonghwa grinned against your chest, but San was the one to whisper in your ear, "You sound so fucking beautiful when you beg doll."

San seemed to be barely paying you any mind, his warm fingers sliding against your neck and along your arms slowly, like he was taking his time to explore your body, "You have no idea how long we've dreamt about you." he admitted, gaze now fixated on the way Seonghwa kissed down your chest towards your navel. "We'd lay awake and off jerk ourselves and each other to the thought of what it might feel like you fuck your sweet little cunt."

A growling roar ripped free from Seonghwa, the sound barely human, from the words his friend spilled. Seonghwa then moved swiftly, digging his arms under your back so he could hold you tight. You could feel the breath being forced from your lungs as he tugged you up until, in an instant, his lips found yours. This kiss was not the sweet gentle one you imagined Hwa would give you, no, this one was rough and filthy as he poured all his pent-up emotions from these months into you, shoving his tongue down your throat, taking what he deemed his. But you met him with equal neediness, using your hands that were now free to grab onto his messy hair, clinging to the soft strands like your life depended on it. Seonghwa trailed his lips down your jaw, then your neck, letting you draw in a shaky breath of air. He sucked on the skin of your collarbone, knowing he was going to leave more marks.

You twisted your fingers in his hair and clutched him close to your body, not wanting to let him get too far away, ever again. But you needed more. You needed all of him, both of them. You needed him to fill you up until he was leaking out of you and then San to do the same. “H-hwa, please—please,” you begged in a worn whisper.

San turned your face towards him by your chin, growling at the fucked out expression you bared. Seonghwa continued his assault on your skin while San leaned forward to steal a fierce kiss from you. His tongue swept into your mouth more gently than Seonghwa, groaning into you. You broke one hand free from Hwa’s hair to dig into San’s fluff to hold him close, but he wrenched himself away before you could get a tight enough hold on him. His face held a cheeky grin as you watched him stand up.

He eyed the way your legs your wrapped around Seonghwa as the man knelt in front of you, still attacking you with love bites. You watched intensely with your mouth slightly agape as San reached down to his belt buckle, pulling the leather free with one swift motion making your cunt throb against Seonghwa's thigh. He then pulled his zipper down slowly, teasingly. You were practically vibrating in anticipation against the older male, one from his lips still dotting on your skin and two for the performance the younger was gifting you. Finally, he reached into his jeans and pulled his cock free.

“Fuck.” You gasped at the sight of your friend’s cock. You had a feeling both boys were well off, but San was big. Your gasp made Seonghwa’s cock harden more against your core, twitching at the pretty sounds that left your lips. San’s cock was thick rather than long. His fingers barely met as he fisted it, stroking up the length in a slow motion. You could feel your pussy gush with even more wetness as you stared at San’s cock, eyeing the veins running up the length to a wide tip.

“Like what you see?” Seonghwa asked you, letting you pull away from him so his face could meet you once again. A big grin painted his features. It was dark and lustful with a hint of curiosity. You nodded to his words, making him let out a simple hum, “You want to see mine?”

“Yes please.” You said a little too quickly, but at this point, you no longer cared. Both men just chuckled at your eagerness as you pushed yourself back to give Seonghwa some room. San, in the meantime, walked back over to sit beside you, helping you undress completely, removing the awkward fabric that was pooled around your waist. Almost dazedly, you watched Seonghwa undress until his cock sprung free and unlike San, Seonghwa’s cock was long. You slowly reached forward without thinking, wanting to see how big he looked with your smaller hand wrapped around him.

But Seonghwa gently batted your hand away, before stroking his own cock. “Not now, bunny.” He chuckled before grabbing your hips, tugging you back against him. He and San helped to lay you back down softly, letting the older male hover above you, pressing his tip against your aching hole. You then eyed San as he leaned over to his nice pile of clothing, grabbing the phone he had recorded you on prior. He gave it to Seonghwa this time so he could capture a delicious shot of his cock resting on your pussy. He looked so fucking big against you, you had no idea how he was going to possibly fit but in the same thought, you needed to make him fit. You wanted him to. You wanted him to fuck you so hard you’d be screaming just like they had promised.

“H-hwa please, please.” You begged, needing him to put it in already. But yet he didn’t, he just held his one hand against your wriggling hips while he slid his hard tip length against your wet folds. San held down your shoulders, making sure you wouldn’t move. Seonghwa bit his lip as he got his full length soaked in your arousal before settling back down on his heels. You watched his whole body shiver as he stared at the phone screen, transfixed by the sight of his cock against your pussy, twitching slightly. He stopped recording, placing the phone down before gripping your hips tightly.

”Do you have a condom bunny? You better give me one now.” He choked out feeling a sense of restlessness, his eyes wide filled with desire. It stole your breath, the way Seonghwa stared at you like you were his entire world. But you shook your head as you looked up at him with worry.

“I-I don’t have one,” You murmured, trying to look around the room in order to avoid his eye contact but ending up catching San’s instead. You hadn’t had anywhere to keep it in your dress, so you’d given your purse and phone to Mingi to hold onto. San’s eyes flicked to Seonghwa with a cheeky expression. You finally looked back at Hwa, noticing his gaze was flared with hunger but also with a hint of anger.

“What were you planning if you met someone tonight bunny?” He demanded in a venomous voice, “Would you have let some random fuck head touch you with his bare cock?” He stated, leaning over you so his face was hovering inches from your face. “Would you have let Mingi fuck you raw? Risk getting knocked up?”

Anger and a little bit of fear swirled in his dark brown eyes. His voice was shaky, almost like he was afraid, and the way he was looking at you, all you could think was that Seonghwa was incredibly handsome with fury contorting his features. How could something feral look so elegant? It suddenly occurred to you that even though these two were, in fact, your friends, you should be scared, no? You should use your safe word and explain yourself about leaving your stuff with Mingi.

But it was apparent how overwhelmed you had suddenly gotten for both men at this moment. your pussy practically leaking all over the floor. your lust for him consumed you as if it was holding your tongue. So all you could do was stare with wide doe eyes, dazed and innocent. When you didn’t respond or defend yourself, both men took this as a defeat on your part. San lightly tsking behind you while Seonghwa shook his head. He was trying his best to hold his anger, keep it in check with some visible effort, raking his hand through his hair, making his already messy locks messier, "So fucking irresponsible, Bunny.

"Well if our baby here was happy with the idea of getting fucked raw, you wouldn't mind if we do it, huh?" San smirked looking down at you with a slight head tilt. his gaze was intense reading your expression carefully, gauging your reaction to his words. "Cause if you're getting knocked up tonight, sugarcube, it's gonna be by us."

It felt like a jolt of electricity just surged through your body straight to your core as you clenched around nothing. You whined loudly at the San's words, showing just how much it affected you. you needed them both so badly that you finally found the courage to speak up, "Please, Seonghwa, please fuck me bare. I need it, I need you so badly." You were so desperate, tears were stinging your eyes and your hips were bucking up in the air making your soaked pussy slide against the tip of his cock.

For a moment, Seonghwa just stared at you, his hard jaw slack and his eyes dazed in the soft moonlight as if he was completely stunned by just how much you seemed to want the filth he offered. You indeed a minx underneath an innocent exterior. Tilting his head back, he squeezed his eyes shut for a second as the grip on your thighs tightened, threatening to leave bruises. The groan he let out almost sounded tortured. "Fuck, Bunny..."

It was San's turn to talk, grabbing your hand and giving it a little squeeze, "Such a filthy fucking whore ain’t ya baby? You, really begging to be knocked up. So cute." His voice was dripping in eagerness, making your heart beat wildly. Seonghwa fisted his cock in one hand, lining it up at your entrance and teasing you by pushing the rounded tip against your little hole.

“Is that what you want, want to be ours?” he asked, a feral grin curling the edges of his mouth as he caught your eye. Still holding your gaze captive with his own, he brought his thick cock down on your clit, giving it a hard smack and making you jerk as pleasure and a tiny bit of pain surged through you. San used this moment to tug your hand towards his cock, letting you wrap your hand around the thick appendage.

You squeezed, causing San to let out a stagnant hiccup. Seonghwa took this moment while your focus was on the other man to press his cock against you, pushing until the cock head slipped inside your dripping cunt. Your walls clenched around him quickly, drawing a ragged moan from both of you, “Fuck we are never gonna let you go after this Bunny,” he muttered through gritted teeth as he slowly pushed deeper, making you take inch after inch of his thick cock.

"Fuck, you're so b-big Hwa." You babbled out staring up into Seonghwa’s dark eye. His expression contorted in determination and you cried out when he shoved the last few inches of his cock into your pussy in one fatal swoop.

“We are the only ones allowed to fuck you, Bunny. You hear, you're mine.” He growled in your ear, not giving you any time to adjust to the feeling of him but luckily from your previous high, you were wet enough that he slipped in and out with ease. San bit the other ear whining as he felt your hand move in time to Seonghwa's thrusts. "No one fucks you without our permission..."

“We are gonna make you our pretty little whore? You want that baby, to be our cock sleeve?” San emphasized every word in the last question as Seonghwa thrusted roughly into you making your tits bounce. You squirm, writhing but San just pined your shoulders down while Seonghwa pinned your hips. Your thighs started to ache as they were spread wide, riding up the side of Seonghwa’s waist while you tried to cling to Sans's biceps. You felt so ruined, so used, and they’d barely even fucked up yet.

“Please, sir. Yes, please. Only for you two,” You cried out a little too easily, coming to terms no one would fuck you the way your friends could. “Do whatever you want with me. I’m yours, all of me. Have me as you please. Just please fuck me harder.” You became a blabbering mess, tears streaming down your face from frustration and desperation. A simple pleased grin painted Seonghwa’s angelic features. He then suddenly kissed you, sweeping his tongue in your mouth with such possessiveness it made you melt into him. When he pulled away, he dropped a sweet kiss to the corner of your mouth and it was then when you only realized you were smiling, brightly… Happily

Seonghwa sat up slightly again, looking over to San, who looked pleadingly as if he was being left out. The older male just smiled, pulling the younger by his thigh to bring him closer, letting Seonghwa wrap his hand around your smaller one that still slowly tugged on San’s cock. A moan left all of your lips as Seonghwa began to thrust against but in time with the pumps he gave San. “That’s it. Stroke him like this bunny. Be a good little slut and help our Sannie out.”

The nickname he gave his friend sent your body into a dizzy haze, simply nodding at his words in agreement. Seonghwa sat up, letting go of San so you could continue before he swiped the phone from the ground. He held the device above your bodies angling it to get all of the action in one shot. For a moment you wondered why the flash didn’t turn on but simply just clicked once, it was then you realized he took a photo. He threw his head back for a moment, basking in the way he could feel your body react to every thrust he gave you. “Here Sannie, wanna go?”

Your friend pulled his cock out ever so slowly, dragging his thick length against your abused folds, making you feel every single inch of him. You shivered suddenly, one from the loss of body heat and two from being stuffed full. But before you could protest to anything, San gently tugged your hand off him before getting up, walking off towards the door. This gave you a perfect view of his plump ass. Without warning, Seonghwa thrusted back inside you filling you up with a quick, brutal stroke, completely pulling your mind from the tall drink of water back to him. Your spine curved and your eyes rolled back, while your lips parted with a sharp ‘fuck’. “Eyes on me princess I’m still the one fucking you.”

The sharpness in Seonghwa’s voice got you spinning. So he was possessive even when he shares, noted. You thought, but before you could say anything to him, you noticed San had returned with some pillows. Fresh clean ones? He must have parked his trucks near and the fucker just walked outside butt naked to grab pillows. Seonghwa moved over, pulling out of you quicker than you could comprehend before San took his place between your shaky thighs... The younger male then lifted your hips with the strength you had no idea he possessed, placing a folded pillow under you. Seonghwa had taken San’s old spot but this time he was stroking his own cock, telling you to focus on the other man in the room.

You watched intensely as San brought his thick girthy cock to your wet hole. Once you were settled and San started to push his way into the point you felt nicely stuffed from his giant cock, you felt him place a hand on your stomach, feeling the bulge poking out. “Fuck Doll, If I knew you felt this good, I would have fucked you sooner.” He moaned shaking at the way your walls clenched around him. Your hazy gaze noticed a flash from a camera again, taking another photo of you, and another from another angle.

“See how petty you look all stretched out and stuffed full of San’s cock. Seonghwa growled, turning the phone so you could see the photo he had taken.

There you were, and you looked positively ruined. Your legs were spread wide and forced open around San’s strong thighs and hands, your pussy wrapped tightly around his thick cock. Hwa had caught you at the perfect moment and your body was arched up with your tits on full display and nipples peaked tight. But it was your face that had conveyed how much pleasure you were in at that moment, a pout in your bottom lip and eyes rolled back in your head so only the whites were visible. It was easily the most filthy photo that had ever seen of yourself. And you couldn’t help but admit it, but you loved it… Your eyes stared at the image greedily as your pussy gushed with more arousal tightening around San.

You almost whine when Seonghwa turns the phone away from you. It was too soon, you hadn’t finished examining every detail yet. But your focus landed on San, seeing hunger dressed with dark eyes as he gazed at the photo Seonghwa was showing him. They both loved the image just as much as you did, maybe even more…”You look so hot baby, like the perfect little cock sleeve.”… Definitely more.

San’s eyes suddenly snapped to Hwa’s taking out a short breath as he kept slowly fucking you with deep, sensual strokes of his hips. Hwa’s brows were raised in response to the other male, almost as if he was considering something. You squirmed, wanting to be in on the thought, but also wanting to be fucked harder. “Should I send this to Mingi?” Seonghwa chuckled watching intensely as your expression changed from blissed out to pure shock.

Out of all the fucking thing’s this wild card of a man could say, that wasn’t something you thought you’d ever leave his lips. Since practically being fucked beyond your freakiest dreams, you had completely forgotten about Mingi. You felt guilt riddled through your heightened body, feeling a little ashamed at how you whined as soon as he spoke. “He told us how needy you seemed when you saw him tonight, almost giving him a few kisses in the kitchen.”

Seonghwa’s words were cruelly calm, like he was just having a simple conversation. For someone who had possession in his veins, you expected him to be angry, jealous… but he almost seemed amused. San snapped his hips, bringing your attention back to him. He must have sensed the confusion in your eyes because his grin explained everything, “We know how he looks at you, Doll. They all do. They would all love to get inside your pretty cunt here…” San placed his hand over your pelvis, the gesture dominant, and asserting. “Even your best friend Yunho…”

“But none of them would dream of touching you. Not until we say so...” You shivered at the certainty in San’s voice, goosebumps rising all over your skin at the sheer thought in his words. Not only had he and Seonghwa both talked about how much they wanted to fuck you, but All of them had wanted you enough that San and Seonghwa had laid claim to you first before any of them so much as looked in your direction. It was at that moment you realized this was far more than a one-night stand to both men, and you immediately felt relieved. If he was telling your friends to back off, then they both definitely wanted more than a hookup, and that made your heart ach in pleasure.

Seonghwa was grinning down at you as he watched you process what San had told you, going on when it seemed he had your attention again. “Mingi and the others were even nice enough to help us set all this up,” Seonghwa explained. “I think they deserve a little thank you for their hard work, no?” There was a teasing curve to Seonghwa’s lips as if he didn’t expect you to agree.

For how long you've been friends with all these men, they certainly did not know you as much as they thought. Seonghwa's suggestion... Not only did it make you burn with need but the sheer idea of him and San showing off to your friends with photos of you being fucked out on San's cock was even better, "Do it." you said with desperation, staring Seonghwa dead in the eyes. "My body is yours to do what you want. please, please share it if you want to."

Both men's faces went slack with surprise, making them both freeze and San slowing his thrusts. San's body was still except for his eyes, which raced around your expression that was still glued to Seonghwa. He was trying to see if you were really serious or not, but after a moment, he spoke up, making both you and Hwa look in his direction. "Remind me of your safe word, darling."

You sat slowly up on his elbows, tilting your head so it was inches from San before whispering with a smirk, “Purple.” Then slipping your lips on his. You felt him groan in your mouth, snaking his hand on the back of your neck. You felt Seonghwa shift before walking off somewhere else in the room, almost drawing your attention away.

But when he pulled away, he didn’t go far, pressing his forehead to yours and looking you in the eyes. “You can use that word at any time,” he reminded you. “If you don’t like something we say or something we’re going to do, you have to promise me you’ll use it."

You hum with a bright smile, “I’m not gonna use it, Sannie. I trust both of you.” When you lifted up, trying to capture his lips in another kiss, he backed off, and you whined softly, falling back onto the soft cushions. “Fuck, just send the photo to the others already…” you muttered dramatically. “I want you to….” you groaned, your pussy clenching down on his thick length at the dirty thoughts swirling in your mind.

San started to rut his hips into you without a second thought, living in the feeling of your warm cunt. But he shook the thought, gritting his teeth while forcing himself to stop his hips, and then he heard a whistle. “Hey, here.”

San gave Seonghwa a mouth pop, pulling out of you entirely, making you gasp at the sudden empty feeling. he chuckled before standing up, letting you see him in all his glory. “You’re not thinking properly…” He accused a little too harshly, watching you twist yourself until you sat on your knees in front of him, licking your lips. Before you could latch your grippers on his cock, he grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together, tugging your face up to look at him in the eyes. “You’re thinking with your cunt, love.”

He helped you up, with Seonghwa suddenly standing behind you, sandwiching you between both men. You turned around to face Hwa this time, snaking your hands along his chest, kissing his neck. “How is this any different to you two wanting to fuck me raw hmm?” You whispered against Seonghwa’s soft skin, letting him grip your hips, and basked in the kisses you were littering on him. You were starting to get frustrated with every moment spent with neither of them fucking you. “Sending a pic to the boys seems less risky if you think about it now huh?”

San just rolled his eyes, walking over to where Seonghwa was before. Hwa, on the other hand, took this moment to capture your wandering lips while slowly walking you backwards towards the table, and Seonghwa had laid blankets over. Your knees hit the edge of the wood, making you break the kiss. Hwa helped you put onto the piece of furniture, laying you down gently. You looked up and saw Seonghwa between your legs and San with an irritated yet lustful expression, staring down at you dominantly. “You think, we’d actually risk knocking you up?”

He didn’t give you any time to reply before he continued, “I know you’re on birth control ‘cause I heard you complaining about it to Yunho.” He was now inches from your face, his breath tickling your cheeks as he also held your shoulders down. “You also slipped up and said that you would never fuck someone raw when we were all drunk the other night while playing truth or dare.” his dark eyes were wild with frustration, “We are your friends…We do listen.”

Tears swam in your eyes at the realization that the two men you had been fearing didn’t like you back and had been listening to you more closely than you realized. When you grabbed his face and pulled him down for a fierce kiss, he let you. He let you lead for a moment before he took over, thrusting his tongue into your mouth and tangling with yours at the same time Seonghwa began to slip inside your waiting pussy, rolling his hips against you. You moaned into San’s mouth, wrenching away to pant out the feeling of Hwa’s thick cock stretching you once again. “H-hwa!” you cried on a gasp.

Seonghwa leaned down to kiss your chest, thrusting into you at a slow, steady pace. San pecked your cheek before grabbing the phone he had been using this whole night. He clicked his tongue before slyly holding it up to your face, whispering. “Look at the phone sugarcube.” When you did the screen, lit up before the phone unlocked. San chuckled at your confused expression at the thought he somehow managed to add your face ID to his phone, but when you saw the home screen, you realized it was, in fact, your phone. These two men had been using your phone this entire time, recording your body on your own camera. That meant that if these two wanted to send or see these videos and photos again, you would have to send it to them. Your jaw dropped a little at the realization, your heartwarming and tightness tingled in your chest.

San didn’t seem to notice your reaction as he scrolled through your camera roll. Your hands gripped the sides of the table as you moaned Seonghwa’s name on repeat. Seonghwa latched his plump lips on your nipple, hiking your left leg over his shoulder to fuck you at a rougher angle. “I’m gonna send this photo to myself so I can make it my background.” He bit his lip checking out a photo of you with Seonghwa’s cock deep inside your throbbing pussy. He would never admit it but the sight of Seonghwa fucking you made him go wild.

“We’ll talk about the others later,” he promised, before tossing the phone down on the blanketed table next to you and tugging you upwards so your head dangled over the table slightly so he could mouth your cute mouth. You whined, parting your lips willingly so you could let him sink his cock into your mouth inch by inch. You hollowed your cheeks and took a deep breath while you clung to his thick thighs as he started moving.

His hips gave a short thrust as all three of you groaned. “Fuck, you feel so good on my cock, Doll,” San muttered, his hands holding the side of your face while Seonghwa gripped your ass cheek with one hand and your breast in the other.“ So fucking tight and perfect—like you were made to take my cock.”

“You’re much to talk, this cunt is the best I’ve ever had. So fucking warm. I could sit in it forever.” Seonghwa kneaded your ass as his hips jackhammered into you. He grunted against your tits focusing on your pussy clenching around him. Then you suddenly felt his finger press against the tight hole of your ass, making you jerk a little, gagging on Sans's cock. “You gonna let us fuck this ass one day, Bunny? I bet Yunho would love the feeling of it. Mingi and him love to tag team you know.”

You moaned around San, bucking your hips in a silent plea at Seonghwa’s filth words. A dark chuckle is all the older male could rumble up mixing with the sounds of pure sin as he pulls his finger away from your ass to coat it in his own saliva before placing it right back where it was, slowly pushing on your tight hole. what was worse was that your senses have now become heightened over your vision being taken away from the angle you lay in. You feel him push again on your puckered hole before his tip breached it, making you swallow thickly. San shivered at the feeling, making him whine out, “And to think, you were scared we wouldn’t have been able to fuck you like the whore you so desperately want to be.”

“Hgnm?” you mumbled against his cock. For one second, you wondered if he’d somehow read your thoughts. The way both men had read your body all night and given you exactly what you needed made it seem possible… You started worrying you had accidentally spoken out loud at some point, but it turned out it wasn’t either of those things.

“We heard you, Bunny” Seonghwa bit out in a choked tone, frustration lacing his deep voice at himself as he felt himself nearing his climax... “We heard you talking to Yunho and Woo when you were at our place last week,” he explained. “You told them..fuck.. you thought we weren’t cut out to fuck you properly, but I knew you were wrong.” He punctuated his last word by thrusting deep inside your pussy, making you cry out and jerk backwards against San. San held you still against him with a firm grip, driving himself so deep you could feel him go down your throat. You felt so ashamed… of course they overheard you, you hadn’t been as sneaky as you thought. But then again, deep down you had hoped they heard. And it turned out it had worked, it’d just taken them a little longer—and a pair of hot Halloween masks—to prove you wrong. With Seonghwa’s finger still in your ass, his cock driving harshly into your cunt and San deep down your throat, you were completely at their mercy, and it felt fucking heavenly. All you could do was lay there and take it while listening to their filthy words, and what he said next only drove your need to new heights.

“we’ve been such good friends to you, bunny, I think we deserve a little thank you don’t you?” he growled, shoving his big dick into your abused hole with a particularly rough thrust, making you shriek at the pleasure and pain around San’s cock. “Look at you,” he practically cooed. “spread out for us, taking my cock and finger in these tight little holes while your mouth is stuffed to the brim with Sannies cock…” he said, pulling his finger out and shoving it deep at the same time he thrust his cock inside. Your eyes rolled back in your head and your jaw went slack on a strangled scream. “And you’re enjoying it just as much as I am, like a good little slut.” He repeated the movements driving you wild with the sensations. “our good little fucktoy.”

Both men were breathing heavily as their paces quickened. You didn’t know how much longer you could last, as they were pushing you closer and closer to the edge with every thrust of their hips. “Such a good girl.. fuck hngg..” San praises, throwing his head back at the feeling of you swallowing around his shaft. They both drilled their cocks into fast and rough while Seonghwa kept his finger lodged deep in your ass. “You’re ours and we can do whatever we want with your delicious holes okay Darling? Maybe even share you with the others… but not until we get out fill.”

The thought of the other fucking you at the same time nearly pushed you over the edge, but you held off, wanting to last as long as possible. You felt so good, you just wanted it to last forever. You were so close, you were pretty sure you’d agree to anything because everything either of them said sounded good to you. “gonna let all eight of us fuck you at once bunny?” you cried out around San feeling tears pour out of your bloodshot eyes.

“Rub your clit,” San ordered in a jagged tone. “Rub your little clit so Seonghwa can feel you come all over his cock like the filthy fucking slut you are and I can come down this fucking throat of yours..”

Immediately, you let go of the table, eagerly sliding it to your front to do as San said. You pressed tight little circles into your bud and, with how close you already were, it didn’t take long for the pleasure to push you right over the edge to your release. But it wasn’t until Seonghwa growled out his next words that you truly let go and fell. “Come around me Bunny baby. Come for us.” His voice was low and sweet, with a hint of desperation that almost made it sound like he was begging. It was that thrum of neediness in your friend’s voice that made you let go…

You could feel your orgasm swell like a tidal wave inside you and, for just a second, you worried about the devastation it would have on your body, heart and soul. Then, with one last driving thrust of Seonghwa and San’s cock’s, they too tipped over the edge. You came with a scream, the sound piercingly loud and gargled around San. The pleasure swept over you, wiping away everything else until you didn’t know where you ended and they began. For a brief moment, it felt like you were floating on a cloud.. a million miles away from your body. Weightless and surrounded by warmth and comfort. But then you crashed back into your body and you knew you’d never be the same, your arms and legs shaking hard as wave after wave of pleasure flowed through your limbs like sparks of electricity.

Seonghwa let out a sound that was so animalistic, you didn’t know if you could call it a groan, but it was so dirty, it made your pussy clench down on his cock. Then you could feel his dick twitch deep inside you as his load began to spill into you and fill you with warmth. San came quickly after, emptying himself down your throat, letting you slowly swallow every drop he gave you. For a moment, you and the two men just hung suspended together in your pleasure, riding out your orgasms together while Seonghwa watched his come leak from your pussy and drip down to the blankets beneath you.

Gently, Seonghwa detangled himself from you, guiding your leg slowly off his shoulder and onto the blanketed table while San pulled out of you and helped you lay your head on the oak furniture, giving you space to breathe. With the same tender care, Seonghwa eased his finger from your tight ass and pulled his cock out of your still-fluttering pussy. Seonghwa then slowly pulled up to sit up so he could wrap his arms around you, gathering you against his chest. You curled up in his arms quickly, letting him stand securely between your aching thighs. He held you tightly as you both calmed down. You felt San’s hand firmly on your back as he leaned down to kiss your shoulder. And as much as both men your comforting you, you couldn’t relax, suddenly feeling a wave of guilt of all that had just happened and what had been said during this whole situation…” San..Hwa..”

With your face tucked in the crook of Seonghwa’s neck, you couldn’t see either of their faces, so you didn’t know exactly what their expressions were but a simple ‘hmm’ got you suddenly anxious. But you still pushed through, “We’re not just friends anymore…w-what are we?”

Seonghwa squeezed you tight with his arms, his face buried in your neck. While San just chuckled patting your head, taking you and Seonghwa in his arms... “Fuck, Darling,” he mumbled on a deep exhale, “I’m trying really hard not to beg you to marry us over here.”

Your heart surged with happiness and you giggled, the sound light as air. “I might say yes,” you whispered, your hand clinging to Hwa’s arm and reaching to find Sans too. Neither of them tried to pull away, both only pressed close, groaning loudly like you were killing them.

“Don’t fucking say that if you don’t mean it, Bunny,” Seonghwa warned. Laughing so much your shoulders shook, you could feel the answering smile on Seonghwa’s lips when he pressed a kiss to your neck.

You pulled away, letting both men stand up properly to gaze at you. You kissed both of them. San first and Seonghwa. It was slow and sweet. But when you went back for another one with San you could feel it slowly turn as he licked your lips so his tongue you slip into your mouth. He kissed you possessively as Seonghwa bit softly on your collarbone. It left you gasping for air as you whispered against your friend’s lips. “I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.”

San smiled against your lips before pulling back away from you, loving filling in his expression. “Doll, we’ve been yours since the first day we met in high school.” He sighed heavily. “I liked being your friend. It would’ve been enough for us, really, but we had to know.. we had to know if we had a chance..”

After a little while, the happy little bubble you and the two boys had created started to bring in the cool night air, making you shiver hard in Seonghwa’s arms. San dropped a kiss to the crown of your head, and then he was quickly grabbed clothes that lay in disarray about the clubhouse. Seonghwa wrapped you in the blanket you were on, pulling it tight around your shoulders and letting it hang down to your feet. San typed out a quick text to the group chat. The boys and you were all in saying you were fine and that they were going to head back to your place. And before any of them could even respond, San promised to fill them in later, then shut the phone off...

Special tags for those who asked for a part two ♡: @mingis-prince @yuyubeans @kpetts @mitchko11 @spenceatiny18 @atinymonbebestay @acetruepunk

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1800jjbarnes · 7 months

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◇ 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑 : 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐞𝐱 - 𝐁𝐮𝐜𝐤𝐲 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 ◇

A Moment To Last Forever

【Synopsis】 : When Bucky comes from a long and stressful day, he only wants one thing. You bent over

『W.C』 : 440

-> Genre: Smut. Flufffff.

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

[Warnings] : Unprotected Sex (Whoops). This is kinda written in a poetic way, idk. Making out. Fingering. Slight breeding kink. This is just full of love and devotion. I'm a sap.

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List

A long tiresome mission can always end in one of the best ways if Bucky had anything to say about it. Water rinsing the grime of the exhausting morning, washing away the slowness of the mid-day training or draining the frustrating of a mission gone wrong in the evening. Dunking your head under the shower, feeling Bucky's hands massage your shoulders, as his lips kiss along your back. Your head would dip back to lean against his wet chest. Your hazy eyes would look up at him, seeing a calm, soft smile on his beautiful features.

The steam around you would cloud your judgment as you both kept close together. He would spin you around, kissing you sensually, making every second count. His fingers glided along your wet skin before reaching your core. As if it couldn’t get any hotter in the bathroom, the feeling of his fingers sliding through your folds sends a moan to break through your sealed lips. You would just stand there for a moment, arms wrapped around Bucky as he rests his forehead against your shoulder. His fingers dipping into your dripping pussy, fucking you at a comfortable pace.

His cock ached for attention but he would push it aside for the moment as all he wanted was to see you come at least once...or twice. He was a greedy man after all and if he could, he would have you coming over and over again until you screamed at him to stop. But he knew you would never say stop, taking whatever he gave you like a good girl. Like his good girl. Just like how you’d bend over so obediently, leaning your hands against the cold tiles, shaking your ass slightly as Buck slips his cock deep inside you.

The stretch stung in the best way as he fucks your bluntly and harshly. He lost himself in the idea of coming inside you, filling you up just the way you like it. The water hitting your back, pooling down your legs was gorgeous in his eyes. Watching how your body reacts to his thrusts and then shiver at the water. If he could memorise this event and replay it on his lonely nights, he would. Your moans were music to his ears, the way your pussy would clench around his cock felt like heaven. And as you both came together it was like time had stopped and it was you and him left in the world.

He was so in love with you; intimate nights like these made his heart sing. More than anything else in existence. You are his everything.

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lasciviouspoison · 1 year

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writing this while 🍃. tw: girl reader, written for black women, reader is chubby, etc etc. not proof read, too high nd horny 4 that. luv u.

firefighter!eren loves his job!! he loves saving lives and being there for the public. even if he gets a call for a damn cat being stuck up a tree, he truly loved his job.

firefighter!eren loves you so so much more tho!! comes home everyday all sleepy from a hard days work, but brightens up immediately upon seeing your pretty face. sitting on the couch in that pretty baby pink slip he bought you the previous week. glasses sliding down your nose with your head buried in a book. he can see a light outline of your pudge from under the pretty garment and his mouth waters.

firefighter!eren loves seeing your eyes perk up upon seeing him :((( loves seeing his pretty girl concerned for him with soot all on his face. simply says, “fire whooped my ass today sweetheart”, slight smirk on his pretty face.

firefighter!eren who feels so loved on when he gets out of the shower, only for you to force him to sit on the toilet as you give his skin a good cleanse and moisturizing treatment. you rub his face with all kinds of oils and creams, and how could you possibly forget about taking care of his hair too?! you put some of your conditioning creams and solutions in his hair, it’s to “keep it from drying out rennie baby”, as you always say. he couldn’t care less, all he needed to care about was ur fingers in his hair.

firefighter!eren who says thank you by fucking you relentlessly on the bed. your legs are pushed up on his shoulders and his pretty face is right in front of yours. you can feel his breath hitting your nose, each exhale matches almost perfectly with his deep strokes. they make you feel like you’re loosing your breath, only hanging on by listening to his praises.

firefighter!eren who calls you a “pretty girl” repeatedly while gripping your cheeks. puts his fingers into your mouth and licks your tongue once u stick it out. who giggles whenever you whimper and tells you that he does so well at work so he can come home and receive the perfect award; your pussy. who spits in your mouth and forces your legs back open after he cums in you. gets down to eye level and gives your pussy the sweetest of kisses. it’s so good you swear you can feel his tongue in your throat.

firefighter!eren who runs you a sweet lavender bath, washes you up, lotions you as you did for him a few moments ago. he tucks you into the newly changed sheets and kisses your forehead. “g’night my sweet girl.” is all you hear before finally resting with your lover.

#eren #eren x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren x chubby reader #eren smut #eren jaeger #eren yeager #eren x y/n #eren fluff #eren jeager smut #eren aot #eren x black reader #eren x black y/n

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runa-falls · 10 months

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he smells like flowers

pairing: steven grant x reader

rating: explicit (18+)

warnings: there is some suggestive content at the bottom so -- edit: nvm it's straight smut down there mb -- est. relationship

a/n: -> this started as a 200 word idea then i couldn't stop whoops [1.4k]

-----

steven smells cute -- pretty, even.

he's always had a gentle sweet scent that further softens everything delicate about himself.

at first you thought he was rummaging in your perfume collection, spritzing some Daisy on his neck before cuddling up to you, but even after a week long mission, he still smells like that mellow mix of tender flower petals and syrupy nectar. ambrosia that glides thick on your tongue and begs you to swallow him down.

if you didn't know any better, you'd think he has a special sex pheromone or something.

it's a scent unique to him, one that you'll never find in any bath and body works or even a high-end designer store -- you've tried and they don't even come close. you swear if you could bottle it up, it would be sold out in a matter of seconds.

he used to get insecure about his naturally 'feminine' aroma because his brothers [alters] have more intensely masculine scents of spice and salt. the type of musk that's conventionally attractive to the opposite sex [or other men].

but you love it. in fact you crave it.

you often find yourself nuzzling into his chest and breathing him in, randomly climbing onto his lap or draping yourself over his shrouded figure just to get him to hold you close. he doesn't mind it, enjoying your closeness and gentle touch, almost proud of how your body yearns for him.

since steven, marc, and jake all share the same body, you assumed they'd be alike in terms of how they look, feel, and smell. it didn't take long for you to figure out that they're actually very different in various ways.

steven is soft, always standing in a way that makes him smaller than he actually is, like he's trying to take up as little space as possible. his eyebrows are either constantly high up on his forehead in wonderment and excitement or low in worry or confusion, brushing along the long lashes of his tired round eyes.

you smooth over the tense lines of his brows as he shifts in a fitful sleep. even when he's unconscious, he's worried, always on his toes, ready to strike at any moment. his expression softens after a while and he instinctively leans into your touch.

he always has tired eyes bags under his deep brown gaze, even when he gets in 12 hours of sleep. and it's just him. when marc and jake front, they look awake and ready to fight, but steven always looks like he could use a nap or a hug.

he has a habit of chewing on his bottom lip when he's nervous, excited, or generally overstimulated, sucking it raw until you tug it out from under his teeth and help him lick the wounds.

sometimes you think he does it on purpose -- wanting to feeling you grace his lips with yours -- other times you worry that if you weren't there he'd do some real damage to himself without even knowing it.

he wears loose clothes, preferring fabric to drape over him rather than cling to his strong build and often stocks his wardrobe with outfits that are one or two sizes too large [marc and jake complain about it, but they still wear the clothes].

the sleeves of his clothes are tugged and stretched out because he likes the feeling of having something to hold on to, it grounds him. it comforts him when you aren't around.

it's adorable to see his large hands engulfed in soft sweaters as he sips on his tea and flips through a book, glasses resting precariously on the bridge of his nose. he sits next to you on his worn couch holding your hand in his lap as he reads, always needing to feel a part of you whenever you're near. you lean against his arm, content to just breathe in the moment of being with him.

his hair fluffs up more than you thought was possible, sticking every which way when he wakes up or lets it naturally dry after a shower. he never puts any gels or creams to help tame his curls unlike his brothers who religiously use mousse or a hat to keep it down.

he loves it when you play with his hair, threading your fingers through the soft fluff before tugging delicately on the ends to keep him awake as he strat to drift from your touch. shivers run up his spine as you softly scratch his scalp and he can't help but snuggle further into your lap.

steven is the epitome of tender comfort, soft and sweet. but he's also addictively delicious in other ways. [cw: suggestive scene]

if you thought steven smells good, he tastes even better. his lips are plump and glossy with the flavor of ripe red cherries. his tongue drips with succulent honey that spreads and soaks feverishly into yours. you drink it in eagerly, tongues mingling and teeth gnashing as his body shutters and bucks under you.

it's even on his skin...

he whimpers when you lave your tongue against a soft spot of his neck, hungrily trying to get a taste of the sweet man under you. his hands that grip at your waist pull you in closer as he lets you nip love bites along his skin, loving how you mark him as yours.

you groan against his slick heated skin -- he tastes like a box of heart shaped chocolates: saccharine, rich, and indulgent. you've never had a sweet-tooth, but steven is a dessert you could eat any day.

it could be argued that the sounds he makes are just as alluring as his taste.

steven is quite predictable: he whines when he wants more, unable to properly voice his desires with how heavily he's saturated with need and lust. it's quite high pitched and desperate, a sound you love to draw out as you tease him with soft kisses and faint touches.

he whimpers when he's getting close or is struggling to comprehend the intense sensations his body is experiencing. this sound is usually accompanied with a tremble body and sparkling lust-blurred eyes. a state in which you could do anything you want to him.

he groans when he finally reaches the end. it deep and guttural, something you never expected from the gentle lightness of steven. this sound could push you off the edge without him even touching you. it's like the euphoric explosion inside of him can translate through the air into you, filling your body with second-hand ecstasy and liquified hunger.

[NSFW]

your sweet steven shudders as you dip down in front of him, hand in your hair to keep it out of your face. dark eyes watch as you clean him up, soft tongue flicking against the mess he made on his stomach.

he hopes you don't notice how he twitches in response to your kitten licks as you shift closer to his center, it's embarrassing how desperate he is, even when it's barely been five minutes after his orgasm.

you hum as you swallow down his essence, licking your lips in satisfaction before you sit back up. steven lovingly swipes a thumb over your moist mouth, cleaning you up a bit, but before he could pull away you capture his thumb in your mouth, suckling gently over him.

his eyes darken ever so slightly as he presses against your tongue, pushing against the silky muscle. he catches himself, shaking out of the trance you put him under and pulls away. you can't help but frown when he does.

your voice is a mere whisper, "you're so tasty, steven."

he looks puzzled and slightly bashful, "i am...?"

"mhm...here taste."

you lean in and press your lips over his before easily slipping your tongue into his mouth. he pours himself into the kiss, moaning lightly as his tastes himself mingled with your own flavor. he licks boldly into your mouth, basking in the consuming hunger that radiates off of you as you zealously pull him closer.

he leans back for a breath though he's still close enough that his lips brush against yours. steven is flushed and in a daze. his voice so quiet that he essentially sighs it against you, "i-i'm pretty sure that taste is all you, sweetheart."

#steven grant #steven grant x reader #moon knight #steven grant fluff #steven grant smut #hehehehehehehehehe

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oneforthemunny · 1 month

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light my morning sky |rockstar!eddie munson x nepo baby!reader|

prompt: three wedding ceremonies, and it's stop number two in vegas. a night with your friends, celebrating you the way both of you love, and it leads to a rather intense wedding night for the two of you in sin city.

contains: minors dni. smut. fluff but mainly smut. drugs and alcohol, overall just partying in vegas. getting married in vegas. dom!eddie x sub!reader. bratty overtones to sub!reader. more of a soft!dom with rockstar!eddie bc he's in loooveeeee. spanking with implement (paddle/crop). thigh riding kinda. crawling. pinvsex. language. nothing too harsh or mean bc it's their (second) wedding night lol.

"I now pronounce you married." Elvis, or one of his many replicas on the strip, rasped in his low, exaggerated drawl mimicking the beloved singer. His hair perfectly coiffed, sideburns trimmed, and dressed in a black jumpsuit with wings, red and gold sequins trim.

Flamboyant, over the top- it was Eddie's dream.

Eddie grinned at you, his hands in yours, thumb brushing over the large stone on your left hand. He looked like The King himself in his white tasseled suit, pointed collar, and blue beading down the deep V of his shirt- an identical suit made to look exactly like Elvis' infamous jumpsuit from his time in Las Vegas in the 70's. It had been a prop in some show your father was producing, one that you and Eddie borrowed after the wedding.

"Eddie, you may now kiss your little darlin' here." The officiant grinned, stepping back towards the faux-rose garland, strung with bright lights.

Your heart swelled in your chest, just as light and giddy as the first ceremony, letting Eddie cup your face, pulling you in to seal with a kiss, far more passionate and needy than the ceremony in California.

Cheers erupted from the small crowd of friends you'd rallied for the big day- well, the second big day. Their booze soaked giggles and screeches mashed to the tune of Can't Help Falling In Love pouring out of the static filled old speakers. Flashes blinded your vision, even behind your closed eyes, camera clicks and bright snaps of camera light capturing every moment.

For a moment, you tensed, aware of your rounded shoulders, of Eddie's hand grabbing at your ass, eyes opening and cutting towards the aisle. Jonathan stood there, face hidden by the camera. Eddie had insisted his friend from Hawkins come instead, replace the snooty photographer that had done the ceremony before. Your parents had raved about him, but Eddie didn't see what the big deal was with him. He just made you both look so stiff, so unnatural in your portraits.

Eddie's hand slid up the silk material of your tiny dress, gripped onto your hip, bunching the material. You could feel his wedding band in the small of your back when he pressed his hand there, steadying you before he tipped you back. A deep dip of a kiss, your thigh hiked around his hip.

The small bouquet of white roses you'd bought at the front of the chapel fell onto the patterned carpet, your friends' screeching and whooping laughs ignited by the dramatics. They expected nothing less from Eddie- from both of you.

"Lord have mercy," The officiant laughed, fanning himself dramatically, long metallic sleeves rippling. "These two have lots of hunk-a, hunk-a burnin' love, don't they folks?"

Eddie could feel your lips twitch against his, a snort of a giggle, hot air blowing against his lip. His dopey and dimpled grin met you when you finally pulled apart. It left you weak, blistering in his intense, love filled gaze.

A pop of Perignon filled the room, Gareth and Farrah bumbling closer with two glasses, trying to stop the excess spilling over. A celebratory toast to the two of you, to keep your buzz going after the break in the bender you took for the ceremony.

Since you'd landed on Thursday night, the party hadn't stopped. Liquor flowing, loud music, sloppily piling into a stall with your own friends, taking bumps off your room keys before stumbling back to the club in your designer shoes, ready to keep the party going.

The afterparty was no different. Tucked away in a private villa at Ceasar's, you didn't make it to the club. Eddie had insisted he had to go first, nearly pushing Jeff over to get to the door, scooping you up in his arms and walking you through the door.

"Watch your fuckin' head, baby- don't lean back." You could smell the alcohol on his breath, a pungent mixture of too many to name, mixed with the faintest whiff of smoke from his cigarettes.

It didn't take long for Nick to find the boom box, blaring his party mixtape at a wall shaking volume, everyone scattering. Some to the kitchen to scour through the piles of empty bottles for a full one, others to collapse into the couch and let someone line up a pick me up before plunging in the hot tub outside.

"You," Eddie slurred, his head dipping down to press against your forehead. "Look so fuckin' beautiful." Nose brushing against yours, red from his own party favors.

You giggled nasally, blinking blearily eyed to focus on him to close to you. The effects of the tequila and champagne and hodge podge of liquor you'd mixed and consumed catching up with you.

"You know what, baby? You look really good, Mr. Munson." You whispered, hand cupping his jaw. "Like- hic!- too good to be fucking true."

"You're sweet talkin' me? Huh? Bein' s'nice to me?" Eddie grinned, fingers sinking into your hips.

"Yeah." You hummed.

"Tryna get my pants off or somethin', huh, baby? G-Get in my pants by bein' so sweet? You think that's gonna work?" Eddie teased, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeahhh..." You nodded, staggering against him, manicured nails raking down his bare chest. "We have to- to consummate the marriage, Ed."

"What?" Eddie furrowed his brows. "We gotta do what? Wait- I thought you wanted to fuck."

You laughed, head tilting back letting out that mean little cackle that always got Eddie worked up- a little mocking, mostly genuine. It left him flushed in heat, crawling up his chest and splattering over his cheeks.

"You dumbass, that is what that means." You rolled your eyes at him.

Eddie's eyes narrowed with you, catching your chin easily. "Oh? That's how you wanna play tonight, hm?" He shook his head, your body erupting in a fiery heat. "You're not gonna be nice to me?"

"I'm always nice to you." You countered, hand closing around his wrist gently, steadying yourself. "You're the one who's mean."

"Yeah?" Eddie grinned, eyes shining, glimmering in the low light of the room, the music from the other side thudding in a low roar, still shaking the walls. "You want me to be mean to you tonight? That's how you wanna do this?"

"Yeah." You sighed, a devious little grin that had Eddie's heart swelling, body buzzing with bouts of electricity. A shock to his system that brought him into something animalistic and primal and thrilling. Something new he only felt with you.

"I was hopin' you'd want to. Figured you would. Went ahead and got you a little somethin'." Eddie hummed, pulling you close into him. His breath hot on your cheek, booze soaked and warm on your skin.

"A gift?" Your eyes lit up, bright and devious all at once. Positively troublesome.

"Yeah. A gift. Just for you, baby." Eddie's lip dragged over your cheek, nose, hands sliding up your neck into your hair. "A wedding gift, but-but not for the wedding. For the after."

"Mm," You moaned lightly, his lips brushing with yours, teasing. Just enough to make you want to kiss him fully, leave you waiting and wanting more. "It's after now, Ed." You batted your lashes up at him.

"Is it?" Eddie muttered, fingers curling around your hair the back of your head.

"Yeah." You whispered, voice raspy from the liquor. "Time to give me my gift."

"Ooh, you're gonna be demanding?" Eddie pulled back from you, holding you at arms length so he could see you. Your pout, glassy eyes rounding instinctively- a classic look, teetering on demanding and begging, a signature look for you.

"'M not being demanding." You huffed, hands sliding over his arms. He could feel the diamonds of your wedding band scratch lightly over his skin. "You said you had a gift for me."

Eddie bit back a smirk, squeezing your shoulders with firm, gentle affection. You grinned triumphantly when he stumbled to his closet, puling a red gift bag tied together with a gold bow.

He smirked at your squeal of delight, hands clapping together excitedly when he gave you the bag. "What is it?" You beamed, a peal of excited, drunken giggles spilling from your chest.

"Open it." Eddie clicked, shaking his head at you. "What's in it- open the damn thing, baby. It's a present. 'M not tellin' you w-what I got you." His words slurred, still silly and playful.

You laughed, head spinning and intoxicatingly airy with glee, unraveling the gold spun ribbon with a dramatic tug of your hand. Underneath the piles of tissue paper, a long box lied at the bottom.

There, inside the felt lined box, a small heart shaped paddled. Black and leather, with a black, metal handle. It was small, smaller than most of Eddie's chosen paddles. The heart shape at the end firmer than the crop, not as flimsy as you expected.

"Look," Eddie pointed, swaying gently in front of you. He turned the handle clumsily around his hands before he turned it to you. There in etched gold, your names and the date carved into the metal handle.

"Ed." You cooed, head tilting back to meet his gaze. "You got this f'me?"

"Well, kinda." Eddie nodded. "I mean, for me to use on you, but yeah. Wanted something to-to remember this by."

Lips pulling in a smile, you stood, arms wrapping around his waist, pulling him flush to your own chest. "You're so sweet." You hum, swaying with him softly. "So sweet to me."

Eddie's cheeks flushed, matching the drunken red heat painted on his neck. "Yeah." He hummed, hands sliding over your cheeks, smearing your already rubbed off foundation, tilting your head back towards him.

"'M not gonna be sweet to you f'long." He muttered, lip twitching in a curling grin. Staticky prickles of excitement licked at your neck, shimmering all the way down to your core. Eddie's tongue ran over his teeth, brow raising. "That alright with you, baby?"

"Yes." You whispered, nails digging into his hands lightly, steadying yourself.

Eddie caught your chin, pulling your gaze towards him. "Who?" His tone dropped, low and raspy but punctuated.

The nervous, maybe excited, giggle spilled out of your lips before you could stop it. Eyes shining, swaying with excitement, you batted your lashes towards him. "Yes, Sir." You purred, hands sliding, nails raking down his forearms.

Eddie grinned, ducking down to catch your lips in a hungry kiss. Hand pressed to the small of your spine, you could taste the liquor on his tongue as it slid past your teeth. A sloppy, needy, alcohol fueled make out. Hands grabbing, pulling at the other, pushing your bodies closer and closer together until it felt like they might fuse together, mold into one. Hands sliding, bunching the material of your dress up your hips.

"Wait!" Your eyes flew open, pulling apart with an urgency that had Eddie jumping.

"What? What's wrong?" Eddie's brows furrowed, vision fading blearily in and out of focus.

"I forgot," You turned towards your suitcase. "I bought something special for tonight. S-Somethin' to put on." You muttered, swaying drunkenly, hands on his waist to steady yourself.

"Baby, it's alright. Just save it for tomorrow-"

"-No." Your tone was cutting, huffy with a hint of demanding- bratty. You did it best, Eddie supposed, his cock twitching at the sound.

He wanted to grab the paddle, haul you over his knee right then, feel you scratch and scream at him like old times. Instead, he let you stomp off, bunching a flash of white material to your chest, stumbling towards the bathroom.

It was worth it, Eddie decided. Legs spread on the edge of the bed, knee bouncing with anticipation until the doors opened.

"Are you ready?" He could hear your grin, hidden by the door.

"Yeah. Show me, baby. Come on out." Eddie's lips tugged in a half grin.

The door opened painfully slow, your own teasing reveal, until you stood before him in a tiny, white, see through lacy lingerie set. A classic, more scandalous and revealing than before. Bra and panties so revealing it left little to the imagination, hip hugging garter that connected to two leg holders, both with their own loops. Eddie pictured for a moment tying you up by them, stringing the rope through them, tying your legs wide open and spending the rest of the night- hell, the whole week in between them.

Maybe tomorrow night. Tonight, he had other plans.

Eddie's loud wolf whistle mixed with your bubbling giggles. "Holy shit, baby, look at you. No, look at me, but I wanna look at you." Eddie rasped, hands sliding over your exposed skin, rubbing the lace of your garter, pulling the tiny strap of your panties so it snapped to your skin.

"You like it?" You whispered, watching his eyes carefully. You knew he did. He always did.

"You kidding? Love it." Eddie grinned. "Worth the wait, beautiful."

Your cheeks burned with a rush of euphoric excitement, hands sliding up his shoulder, your ring sparkling even under the dim lights of the room.

"Ok, I'm ready now." You said boldly, lashes batting up to Eddie sweetly. "I just wanted to put this on for you."

"Oh? You're ready?" Eddie snorted lightly, lips curling in a smirk. "You callin' the shots?"

You huffed, an eye roll that had Eddie swallowing hard, trying to ignore the throbbing of his cock. "No," Your tongue clicked sarcastically. "Obviously you're in charge for right now."

"Oh, it's like that?" Eddie scoffed. "You're gonna act like that?"

"I'm not acting like anything, Ed." You bit your lip playfully. "I don't know what you're talking about." Oh, you were playful tonight. Eddie's heart swelled, palms twitching with excitement.

"Hm," Eddie hummed, tongue running down the inside of his cheek.

"Why don't you go get your gift." Eddie nodded towards the discarded paddle at the other end of the bed. You stepped towards it. "Nuh-uh-uh." Eddie clicked, head shaking.

"You know how you're supposed to get things for me." His eyes darkened, narrowing towards you.

Your thighs twitched, aching between them with a familiar heat. "Ed," Whiny and nasally, shoulders slumping for effect.

"You're gonna whine? C'mon, I know you know better." Eddie shook his head. "I don't wanna be mean to you tonight. Not too mean, anyways. Don't make me be mean. Go get your gift and bring it here, you know what to do. You be good for me, and I'll be good to you."

It didn't take much convincing, not when your head was spinning the way it was, desperate to please him. You knew he was true to his word, that he'd make you feel so good, which was exactly why you sunk to your knees. Crawling across the carpeted floors, you crept slowly towards the paddle.

Eddie watched through heavy lids, the sway of your hips, tiny panties riding up into your ass with every crawl. Your eyes met his when you raised up, gently grabbing the paddle off the bed. Eddie's heart lurched with excitement when you slipped it between your teeth, sinking back to your knees.

"Holy shit... Baby," Eddie groaned, leg shaking furiously when you rounded the corner of the bed, crawling straight for him. "Look at you. Jesus Christ, you know what you're doin'?"

You sunk back on your knees, settling between Eddie's open legs, eyes rounded so sweetly up at him it answered his question- you knew exactly what you were doing to him.

"'M just trying to be good." You whispered sweetly, head tilting to the side when he took to the paddle from you. "I just want to be so good for you always and forever, Mr. Munson."

Eddie thought he might snap the paddle in half, grip strangling in a tight hold around the pole. For a second, he contemplated again diving right between your legs, kinky foreplay be damned. Instead, he pulled you over his knee, let you straddle his thigh, covered cunt hot on his knee.

"Look at me." Eddie rasped, pulling your chin up, letting it rest on his chest, your body folded over his. "I wanna look at you. Wanna see you the whole time."

You pressed your lips together, swallowing back a pathetic whine. One hand cradling the back of your head, the other dragging the paddle along your exposed cheeks.

"You wanna be good for me?" Eddie whispered. You didn't reply, didn't get the chance to before the paddle snapped onto your ass. A jump, a whine, followed by Eddie's coaxing whisper back onto his knee.

"I asked you somethin', sweetheart." Eddie muttered, the crop tapping your other cheek. "You wanna be good for me?" Two sharp hits one to each cheek had you hissing.

"Yes." You hissed through gritted teeth, stilling your hips not to grind on him, hump his leg mercilessly. You knew that'd just fuel his cruel teasing even more.

"Yeah?" You yelped at the sharp sting.

"Yes, I wanna be good for you." Your spine ached at the uncomfortable bend in position, still you didn't dare move. It was true, you did want to be good for him.

"Are you going to be good for me?" Eddie whispered, nose nearly touching yours.

You bit back a giggle, stopped by three more sharp spanks of the crop to your ass, already itchy with growing agitation. "Yeah." Your eyes shone up at Eddie's, a silly, love sick grin that had him swooning.

"Yeah?" Eddie mocked back with a light snort. It was growing harder to keep the mean, domineering persona he tried to. When you were being this sweet, when you were being so good for him.

The crop fell again, this time your hips did roll. Just enough to dull the ache between your legs, a momentary release that had you melting further into his chest.

Eddie didn't miss it, pulling you closer to him, readjusting you on his thigh. "I don't know if I believe you." Eddie hummed, cracking the crop down again in short, sharp successions. "Are you really gonna be good to me? For the rest of time?"

You whimpered, hips rocking slowly, a steady rhythm that nearly had your eyes rolling back. The burning stretch of your ass mixed with the slow, pleasure-filled rolls of your hips.

"I will, I promise." You hummed in a high, breathy tone. "I swear I will be. I'll be a good wife for you. Forever and ever and ever."

Eddie's heart nearly burst at the words. How sweet they still sounded, even if you had technically been his wife for a few weeks now.

He let the paddle fall, his hands grabbing at your waist, pulling you into his lap. Lips on yours, your legs wrapping around his hips before he rolled the two of you, body slotting over yours, drunken giggles filling the air.

Hand intertwining with the other, Eddie's eyes rolled back at the feeling of your ring scraping over his when he finally slid into you. Mrs. Munson, forever. Forever his, just as he was forever yours.

Eddie had you pressed against the window of the suite, hips rutting into the fat of your ass, marked with the etching heart shape of the paddle. Overlooking the city's skyline, the sun was just beginning to peak over the horizon. Your cheek pressed to the window, Eddie's pressed to yours, skin smushed to skin, the two of you weren't close to being done. Just getting started, started on forever, started on a life together.

For now, in a hotel room in Vegas, insatiably happy and in love with one another. Mr. and Mrs. Munson, for the second time.

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