#God You & Sex

[sillysowa]

SEXTAPE

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT, STARTS OFF PRETTY CUTE BUT GETS KINKY

WORD COUNT: 1.1K

WARNINGS: PERVY HOBIE, VAGINAL FINGERING, BITING, SLIGHT DEGRADATION(?), HOBIE FINGERS YOU WHILE YOU PLAY GUITAR, RECORDING SEX

AUTHORS NOTE: I LOVE THIS SONG AND I FULLY KNOW ITS NOT DIRTY, BUT ITS MY INSPIRATION. (‘TING’ IS JUST SLANG FOR THING!)

SYNOPSIS: HOBIE JUST CANT GET ENOUGH OF HIS GIRL PLAYING HER GUITAR

—

Your amateur fingers danced over your electric guitar, a messier version of Sextape by Deftones ringing out in your empty room. Your amp blinked, your room was freezing, and you found yourself growing more comfortable with the beginning riff. This song was important to you—Hobie having introduced it to you on your first date when he drove you home. It was late, and you were tired, but the song left a mark on you.

The window was open like it always was, awaiting your lover boy. Hobie was at Headquarters for god knows what reason, and he had been gone very long now. You had no way of knowing when he’d be home, busting yourself with your new hobby. It was strange and it was difficult, but when you got it, it sounded beautiful.

Hobie had had an exhausting day, wishing he could be home with you the whole time he was at HQ, but understanding the need for his help. Finally, he was out of there, walking back into London through a portal and sighing in relief. He was standing on the side of your apartment building with his hands in his pockets, walking up the wall and pausing when he heard you cursing,

“Shit, No! I just had it are you kidding?” You grunted, awkwardly adjusting your fingers for the chord you were desperately trying to perfect. Hobie’s ears pricked up, the sound instantly earning his undivided attention as he crouched outside your window, head peeking in just enough to not catch your attention but to give him a good view of you.

To you, you looked a mess. To Hobie, you looked like something straight out of a wet dream—your hair was out of your face, (whether that’s with a bonnet, hair tie, or whatever works for you!) and you were in just your underwear and a tank top. Your guitar was on your lap, and the frustration in your face went straight to his dick. Hobie couldn’t help it, you just looked so ravishing when you were upset.

You were in the middle of the chorus when your boyfriend Hobie makes his arrival through your window, but you don’t jump, you’re used to it by now.

“Hobie, I was beginning to think you’d be gone all ni-“ You start, beginning to take your guitar sling off when Hobies large hands outstretch towards you, palms up,

“Wait-wait-wait! I wanna hear! Don’t wanna miss the show.” He smirks, backing away when you reposition your guitar with a slight eye roll. Hobie just laughs at you as he gets changed,

“It’s really not any good so far, Hobie, and i’ll probably mess up if you’re watching.” You whine, not exactly interested in embarrassing yourself in front of your experienced boyfriend.

“Hey don’t even start with all that, you’re doing great, luv, and I wanna hear the progress.” Hobie quips, a finger pointed towards you as he nears the bed. You’re surprised when Hobie gets real close next to you and then ushers you to scoot forward a bit, then it clicks,

“Hobie-“

“What?” He says, feigning innocence as he invites you to sit with your back to his chest, his legs spread to give you room. You sigh when you realize he won’t let you not do this, positioning yourself,

“You’re such a perv, Hobie.”

“Yeah and you love it.” He smirks, pulling you real close.

You position your fingers on the neck of the guitar, momentarily forgetting what song you were playing. You feel Hobie’s hands on your thighs, and you try to focus. The songs starts. It’s surprisingly steady sounding, and the strings aren’t buzzing like earlier.

“That’s it, good job.” Hobies deep voice rumbles behind you, almost causing you to lose track. You’re playing the song as best as possible, shifting slightly, completely unaware of the effect it was having on Hobie. You feel his fingers creep down to your covered slit, and you pause,

“Hobie?” You question with a slight tilt of your head only for him to grab your chin and face you forward again, hushing you,

“Keep playing.” His voice instantly silences you, and you follow his command, fingers dancing across the strings and continuing the song. You shiver as he starts to rub your clit through your panties, praising you when you do well, giving you tips when you mess up.

A chill trickles down your spine as Hobie moves your underwear to the side, spitting on his fingers before he slowly pushes two into you,

“Ngh~ Hobie! I-I can’t by play like this!” You moans and squirm, only resulting in a toothy grin to take over his features,

“Sure ya can, sweetheart. Just focus f’me.” Hobie reassures you, his voice deep and raspy. He starts to steadily pump his long fingers in and out of your cunt, which is being embarrassingly loud while you play.

“Mmm~ Ha~ Hobie~!” You moan, struggling to keep playing as he speeds up. The feeling of his fingers curling into that soft spot inside you drives you crazy, and you struggle,

“Finish the beautiful song for me love, I know you can.” Hobie whispers in your ear, kissing your neck and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up straight. He fingers you so fast you see stars, and you don’t even realize what you’re saying anymore, moaning anything and everything that you feel. Hobie whispers in your ear the whole time,

“Oh you poor ting can’t even play anymore, feels that good yeah?” He chuckles, picking up speed when he feels your walls clenching around him. Your guitar is long forgotten, Hobie fingering you to your release like it’s a sport to him. When your back arches and you cum, Hobie leaves small bites on your neck and sucks hickeys all over, boner throbbing against your back as he whimpers at the sounds of your pleasure.

“Good girl baby, good girl.” He grunted, pulling his fingers out of your pussy while you whine, then tapping them on your lips, “Clean em up dollface.” He groans, cock hard against you as you suck his fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue over them. When he pulls them out, he pulls your guitar over your head and web shoots it onto the wall, mounting it. Hobie grabs your neck, his jewelry clanging in the process as he gets up on his knees. He frees his cock and bends you over, your ass up and head down while you grip the sheets, incredibly flustered and shy from his sudden horniness. Suddenly, Hobie pulls your neck back and his phone is right in front of you. He records your expression when he thrusts into you, both of you moaning loudly before Hobie grunts,

“Smile for the camera, luv.��

[miss-cincaide]

The pink, the blue or the red 

Summary: You can’t decide on a piece of lingerie for your upcoming date. So what do you do? Ask your best friend for help of course. After all you don't think he'll care. And you especially don't expect this to be the beginning of your 'friends with benifits' situation..  

Pairing: Fem! Reader x Megumi Fushuguro (aged up!) Kinktober prompt 2: Lingerie  WC ~1.7K. Warnings: Unprotected sex (P in V), pulling out, cum, light dirty talk, becoming friends with benefits, 

“ I can’t decide!” You huffed from the cracked opened door to your bedroom. Your back pressed against the door, your face angled through the crack and stared down at Megumi sitting cross-legged on your couch, the bunch of homework and course books spread out all over your coffee table. “I don’t know if the blue one is better than the red one, but the red one feels too desperate so maybe the pink one?” 

There was an unmistakable pause, a silence then, an “Are you asking me to look at your underwear before your date?” Megumi’s tone held a hint of disbelief in it and you couldn’t help yourself by correcting his choice of words: “Lingerie.”

It didn’t help; Megumi sighed in exasperation. 

The kind of sound that clearly said you were acting stupid for one, and two, he was about to group you in the same category as Itadori. “ I don’t know. Ask Nobara” 

You let out a low whine, a quiet stomp of your foot against the carpeted floor “ I did. And Nobara said that ‘guys only care about tits and a hole’ so it didn’t matter which one. Then I asked Yuji and it became a whole discussion about why I should care about the color of my lingerie if it’s anyway covered by clothes and IF things go that way, it will most probably be dark so the color won’t matter anyway.”

You heard Megumi mutter something under his breath and proceeded to amp up the begging with your most pitiful puppy dog voice “Please ‘Gumi. You’re my only hope for honest to god feedback.” 

Another long pause, you were about to start bribing him, before he sighed and dropped back against the couch. “Fine.” 

Megumi didn’t sound happy, but you didn’t care as you let out a glee of joy and stepped out of your bedroom. A silky kimono with lace details which matched the lingerie set, thrown over and tied up on your hip, showing off just the very edge of the matching set underneath. 

“So I thought of something like this” You stood in front of Megumi and did a little twirl showing off the kimono that followed the line of your body. Megumi remained frustratingly impassive, his every expression carefully schooled. He wasn’t giving you anything; did he like it? Hate it? Find this bothersome? Find you bothersome? “Come on, Gumi say something” 

“You’re planning to go out to a bar like that?” His eyes ran you up and down, followed the outline of the kimono and then flickered back up to your face, his eyes never lingered. “Doubt it. Stuffing it in a bag to take with will make it look wrinkly and cheap.”  

“It wasn’t cheap” you pouted, then as the penny dropped you realized it was your cue to take it off. Seduce him if you will. You moved to undo the belt, your fingers scrambled to untie the death-knot on your hip. You hadn’t actually thought things would go this far. 

“And that’s another issue,” Megumi pointed out. You could practically hear how he rolled  his eyes. “ When are you going to learn how to tie things up in a single bow?” 

“ But they untie themselves!” 

“That’s what you want from them. Especially in this situation.” 

You didn’t bother to reply, banter-scolding a familiar routine at this point. You’d say there was nothing less sexy than to have to stop and retie the bow, Megumi would point out that at the speed you were going, you’d be ancient by the time you got it untied. “Aha!” you grinned before he could say another word as your nail finally caught the inner loop and you slowly tugged the silky belt free. 

The kimono soon followed, first opened up, then slid off your shoulders to the floor. All you were left in was a half-sheer dark blue set embezzled with small white gems. The bra worked hard to push your girls up, the lace which started just above your nipples giving a small hint of modesty. The lacy skimpy Brazilians did the opposite. 

“What do you think?” You asked, then did a slow twirl to show it off from every angle. When you turned back around to face Megumi, his eyes were firmly planted on the floor at your feet. You bit back the twitch of disappointment in your heart. 

“It looks good.” His voice sounded tense like he uttered it through gritted teeth. 

“You’re not even looking!” You moved to stand closer to him, hearing the unmistakable hitch of breath. “Does it look bad? It looks bad, right? Tell me truly and honestly so I know” 

“You want a true and honest opinion?” You nodded quickly. Megumi didn’t look up at you as he slowly moved to stand up off the couch. He was close, towered over you, definitely aware of you. You smiled a little to yourself and began doing another demonstrative twirl. He stopped you halfway with a firm grip on your arm. “You wanna know what I think? I think you’re doing this on purpose.” 

You gasped as he pushed you forward, and bent you over, your stomach made contact with the side of the couch, one hand braced over the back, the other caught yourself on the armrest.

“I think you’re doing this to rile me up and it’s working” Megumi pushed his hips forward, flush against the soft curve of your ass. His cock was unmistakably hard in his pants. He rolled his hips, and made you feel every inch of him. 

Big. Hard. Needy.    

You trembled. A pathetic whimper left you. 

“You don’t really care about those dates or men. We both know you’re going to go there, have a few drinks, then run away when things get serious.” Another roll of his hips, this time sliding himself between your ass cheeks. “ If you want something, be a big girl and say it.” 

“Don’t stop” you whimpered moving your hips in line with his. He does exactly as you asked, but not a touch more. You're ground against him, desperate for more friction, more touch, more of that delicious cock which so perfectly ground against you, scratching you with the lace of your panties and the shift of his jeans. Outlined but hidden, leaving the rest to imagination. Fuck it was torture. “Or.. you know… keep going, just don’t stop” 

Megumi took a step back from you. “On the couch. Now.” 

You scramble to shift your body over the armrest and into one of the soft cushions. Back against the couch, soles of your feet on the edge of the pillow, knees loosely to your chest. Megumi joins you a moment later, pushing up your knees closer and out of the way. He didn’t bother slipping your panties off, just pushed the damp skimpy thing to the side before thrusting right in. 

“Ah-heh..mm, What about foreplay?” Your hands wrap around his neck keeping him close and steady, there to see his every expression, so close you can hear him swallow, groan and curse as your pussy took him. 

“What about it?” Megumi raises an eyebrow, his hand reached out and brushed a sweat drop off your face. Then trailed trails down your neck, lingered at your bouncing tits then lower, down to your clit. “You’re saying you can be wetter than this?” 

 His fingers touch you; you moan, arching you back. Closer, away, you don’t know anymore. You feel him push your legs even closer to your chest, his thrusts growing rapidly. You realized he was bullying you; with his words, with his fingers and with his fucking cock that felt ten times better than you could have ever imagined. “Y-you’re mean, Megumi” 

“Am I now?” He picked up his pace, rolled his hips and you were coming, dripping, soaking him wet. You were moaning, gasping, cursing or was it him? Another scream and he was gone. Your pussy clenched over nothing.

 Empty.

 You’re whined, your hips thrusting empty air in desperation.

 “Fuckkk”  He was coming, gasping, painting your stomach and tits white with the hot thick cum. 

His sweaty head dropped down to your shoulder, and your nails let go of his back. 

The reality came crashing down on you like a sobering weight; You just had sex with Megumi.  You just fucked your best friend. And you didn't know what it meant, were you now migrating to friends-with-benifits? Something more? Something-

“Did.. did Yuji see the lingerie?” There was an unmistakable twitch of jealousy in his voice and a tone that demanded an honest answer out of you. 

You didn't quite know how to interpret it. You answered him either way. “Kinda? I showed him the pictures of them but not on me”

Megumi growled, his hand on your knee tightened slightly before he let you go. He moved off you, flopping down onto the couch beside you. “Then I need to see the other two before I can give you my honest opinion” 

Your face flushed, your brain short circuited. Your body moved seemingly on its own, awkwardly scrambled out of the couch and with shaky legs began carrying you back to your room. 

If this was what happened with the most innocent, blue set, you couldn't wait until he laid his eyes on the lacy pink one, or barely there red one…

Author note: I have to say I am not sure how I feel about this fic. I love the Megumi in this and I do kinda wanna write more Friends-With-Benifits scenarios. What do you think? Anything you'd wanna read?

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[smileysuh]

ride night TEASER

🌙 starring. Lee Donghyuck x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “You always told me you had a thing for older men. Said I wasn’t your usual type- not daddy enough for you, well, here you go, baby. Let daddy hear you moan for my cock.” You seriously can’t believe this is happening. All you can do is try to relax while Hyuck fucks you stupid in some dive bar bathroom stall, your core still throbbing and desperate after six orgasms from a vibrator while on his bike. The fingers on your oversensitive bud are unrelenting, just like your boyfriend, and at this point, you can’t even bring yourself to care that his ride night dad is listening in, only a few feet away. 

tw/cw. Exhibitionism, riding a Harley with a vibrator inside of you, multiple orgasms, fucking in a bar bathroom while someone (John) listens in, overstimulation, unprotected sex, vibrator as a ball gag, voyeurism, dirty talk, praise, choking, brief pussy eating, Hyuck has tattoos, etc… I pet names: (hers) princess.

👹 rating.18+ explicit I wc. 4.9k

🍭 aus. Established relationship au, motorcycle au, etc…

☀️ mlist + an. The I love Harleys saga continues but this time with NCT

You close your eyes, giving in to the onslaught of sensations. 

The air ripping at your tight riding jacket, gravel buffering your knees ever so often, music ringing through your helmet, the powerful vibrator in your pussy, and the even more powerful machine that Hyuck maneuvers like a God-

If you focus too hard, if you allow yourself to enjoy all of this, you might just cum, and part of you wants to resist that, so you open your eyes, looking over at John on the bike next to you.

Hyuck might be the notorious dare devil, but John’s not all that angelic either. The man is standing straight up on his foot pegs, his butt raised completely off his seat. The wind is tearing at his leather jacket, and you can’t even imagine the pressure of the air he’s cutting through, battering at his body-

Even so, he looks as free as you’ve ever seen a man look.

Your pussy pulses pathetically around the toy and you grip Hyuck’s hips, legs shaking around his own.

His hand lands on your thigh, squeezing, as if to say ‘cum for me,’ and your body can’t help itself this time. You release all the pressure, your muscles going slack for a moment of peace before contracting from the power of your orgasm.

Your core throbs desperately around the vibrator, your eyes closing to enjoy the sensation.

Hyuck takes his hand away from your thigh, revving the engine and kicking into an even higher gear. The bike purs below you, as if she - like her master - is amped up from the energy of your release.

☀️ to read the full fic AND 3.9k bonus NOW, subscribe to my Patreon, then click here

👹 or wait till the fic is posted on tumblr Friday June 14th, 2024

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[devourable]

yandere gym bunny x gn reader smut ;; dom yan/sub reader, risky/public setting, use of sex toys (app controlled vibrator), praise, dacryphilia, mommy kink? (only said once), reader referred to as baby and doll

the buzzing is so fucking loud. people had to know what was going on, right?

you trembled violently as you tried to finish your reps, staring daggers at valentina as she chatted with someone across the gym. it had became a habit of hers, to pretend to be busy elsewhere simply so she could watch you struggle as she toyed with you from afar. the sight of her on her phone, no doubt messing with the app that controlled the vibrator she had stuffed you with, all while chatting away with her friend made your skin burn.

an excruciating jolt of pleasure buckled your knees and nearly sent you to the ground, involuntarily gritting your teeth to keep yourself from crying out — a punishment from tina for pausing during your workout for too long. you managed to just barely choke down your moans, but the noises that you couldn't keep from slipping past your lips still drew concerned glances from other patrons. you were making a scene! it was so humiliating!

you could hear your girlfriend's sadistic giggle from across the gym when she amped up the bullet's power. you couldn't move, could barely breathe — the only thing you could focus on was the feeling of your painfully sensitive walls being assaulted by waves of intense vibrations. all you could do was lean and squirm against the lifting equipment you were sat on, silently praying that you wouldn't make a mess in your shorts in front of everyone.

it felt like hours had passed before she finally returned to your side. you could barely focus on her words, but you could pick up that she was feigning worry and gently tutting at you for 'pushing yourself too hard'. just loud enough to keep the few that had picked up on your odd behavior from bothering you. she gathered you up in her arms and led you away from the main part of the gym.

thank god the pool room was empty. the second valentina had closed and locked the door behind the two of you, you had to hold onto her, unable to stop the tears from cascading down your face.

"m-mmommy," you sobbed, curling up against tina's chest. "'s too much! please make it stop, i-i can't—"

you cried and cried, whimpering against your girlfriend as she held you close. your pleas mostly fell on deaf ears — she was listening to you, of course, but she just couldn't bring herself to act on your needs. you were just so cute when you cried for her.

valentina gently held your face in her hands, drinking in your ruined form.

"you're doing so good, baby," she cooed, leaning down to your ear to give you a playful nip. "sweet lil' thing. want me to make it stop?"

she was already stooping down to her knees in front of you when you rapidly nodded, unable to stop yourself from panting in anticipation as tina left a trail of sticky, lip gloss laden kisses down your neck, collar, any exposed skin her lips could find on her way down. her hands slid beneath your shorts. the way you trembled as you stood, desperately pressing you thighs together to try and keep the unrelenting pleasure from overwhelming you was enough to get valentina biting her bottom lip.

"look at you, dripping for me~" she purred, her gaze hungrily running over your newly exposed flesh as she pulled your shorts down to your knees. "fuck, you're soaking. you like it when people watch, don't you? didn't know i was dating a little perv."

you couldn't hold back the choked moan she pulled from you as her fingers gently worked their way into you, that overwhelming heat burning in your stomach once again when she prodded at and pulled the vibrating black bullet out of you at a painstakingly slow pace. she savored the way you involuntarily bucked your hips, watching you watch her with that desperate look in your eye, fighting so hard to stop from getting too loud and alerting anyone as to what the two of you were up to.

you tried to speak again, but the feeling of valentina gently nipping the skin of your inner thigh made you gasp.

"be quiet for me," she muttered, the feeling of her breath between your legs making you tremble. "you're so perfect. you can keep it up a bit longer, can't you?"

you honestly didn't think you had much of a choice in the matter. but you couldn't help the small flush of satisfaction that her pleased smile brought you when you nodded.

"that's my doll," she purred, her tongue coming out to meet your wet, sensitive flesh. "let me make you feel real good."

[aprildream]

well, my boyfriend's in a band

genre: smut ✰ wc: 579

tags: band au, guitarist mingyu, established relationship, accidental exhibitionism, unprotected sex, mentioned spanking

a/n: this was first inspired by red hair gyu, then revived by long hair gyu, and then revived again by glastonbury gyu. now it's finally being posted. enjoy

Dating your band-mate had its perks. One of them was the media attention.

What will happen to the band if the two of you break up?

"We'll think about it when and if it happens," you'd say whenever the interviewers asked that particular question.

The flirting, the teasing, the sexual tension - the fans loved it, ate it up, and so did you. It could be said that both you and Mingyu had a bit of an exhibitionist streak, getting off on the way the crowd went wild when Mingyu slapped your ass on stage, or when you came up behind him and lifted his shirt to expose his abs, or kissed him all filthy, or when the two of you got just a little too close during a song. It was intoxicating. The other members joked that one day you would just fuck right there on stage, and they weren't that far off.

You certainly thought about it often. Ripping Mingyu's clothes off, him bending you over an amp and just railing you, right there in front of everyone-

The familiar intro to your opening song snapped you out of your daydream and you caught Mingyu's knowing look. He winked at you with a smirk.

That was the other perk of dating a band-mate. When you were high on adrenaline after a show, you didn't have to go searching for someone to help you get rid of it, because he was already there.

The second the show ended and you were backstage, Mingyu threw you on the nearest flat surface, crashing your lips together in a heated kiss. You responded in earnest, grabbing at every part of him, wrapping your legs around his hips and pulling him against you, moaning when his hard-on pressed against the throbbing heat between your legs. He had lost his jacket midway through the show, giving you a chance to grope and admire his toned arms.

"Someone's really worked up," Mingyu teased.

"I want you so bad," you whispered, fisting your hands into his white shirt, damp with sweat. It had been a great show, and Mingyu had been at the top of his performance, as always. Just watching his skilled fingers play with the strings of his guitar made you needy, wishing they were playing with your pussy instead.

Now, he was so close, leaning over you, but you wanted him closer, wanted him inside.

"Yeah?" he drawled in a low voice that shot straight down to your core.

"Want you to fuck me," you went on, "want you inside."

That got him moving, reaching down to undo his pants and pulling them down enough to get his cock out. The rush of the show had gotten to him, too, because he was already hard and straining against his boxers. He only had to lift up your skirt and pull your panties to the side to expose you to him. His fingers tested your entrance and came away slick.

"Fuck, you're soaked."

"So put it in," you snapped. Watching Mingyu perform for two hours had gotten you so worked up that you had no patience for foreplay.

Your breath caught when he pushed inside in one go, walls clenching and fluttering around him. You had gotten used to his size over time, but god, he was still big. "Fuck."

There was just one thing you had forgotten about in your rush to get in each other's pants.

"Uh, guys?" Seokmin's voice came through your in-ear. You both froze, sharing a look of confusion. "Your mics are still on."

Shit.

Pop Base ✔️ @PopBase

Members of popular alternative band shock their audience with a scandalous background performance

— © aprildream. do not repost

[wheneverfeasible]

A random plot idea that came to me suddenly. Please feel free to use this idea, just credit me if it inspires you and send a link with any story written!

-

I’ve read a few fics with the premise but it’s like a She’s All That AU where King Steve is bet to make The Freak, Eddie Munson, fall in love with him, or make him popular, or get him to prom so that they can Carrie him. And of course Steve goes along with it because he’s still trying to be what people want him to be or whatever and he doesn’t like it but he does it, only to end up catching feelings for Eddie.

And okay yeah. Cue that heartbreak angst when Eddie finds out. But…BUT…

Imagine that AU but Eddie knows about the bet. They don’t know he knows, but he discovers it quickly. He’s King Freak after all; the gossip gets back to him before the popular jocks even get to putting the plan in motion, or he overhears it himself, or whatever. But he knows.

He knows and he plays along. He lets Steve woo him, acts first like he’s wary and annoyed about the guy, makes him work for it, but he lets himself pretend to fold and accept the dates. Accepts the kissing. Accepts the more.

Because yeah, he knows it’s fake, knows Steve could never actually want him, but he still has King Steve’s mouth around his dick, and he honestly has to congratulate the guy for going so far for a bet. And hell, he’s not going to pass up the chance to see just how good the fabled King is with his dick either.

Eddie figures he’ll have some fantastic sex, eat good food and get some dope gifts like a new amp for his sweetheart all courtesy of Harrington money, and…yeah, okay, even if it’s fake, Steve’s actually pretty good company. And Eddie even makes friends with one of the cheerleaders and isn’t that fucking bizarre but she’s sweet even if her boyfriend is an ass.

And Steve is still friends with his ex and through that he knows some dweeb kids, and damn is Harrington actually kind of good with kids, kind of…nice? And he’s funny in a bitchy kind of way, and his family life actually kind of (a lot of) sucks. And he helps this band geek who was being bullied by one of his teammates, and…and maybe, in another life, Eddie might have thought King Steve was actually a good dude instead of the douchebag he knew he was.

Because this was fake. It’s all just a bet. And Eddie is going to laugh when, after all of this, he gets to pull the final prank on Harrington and all his court. Because he knows it’s fake. He knows Steve doesn’t actually like him. He knows that, even when he laughs in all their faces at the end because he got to fuck King Steve in the ass, he’s going to be leaving it all alone and…and without Steve.

And that’s fine. It’s fake. It’s fine. Steve could and would never actually like him. The King and The Freak. And it’s fine. It’s fine. It’s fine.

And the truth is revealed, and Eddie laughs at them because he’s known all along, and Eddie pretends his heart isn’t breaking while Steve does the same. And it’s okay and it’s fine.

Except it isn’t.

But it is fine, because Steve’s ex? That band geeked he helped? Eddie’s cheerleader friend?

By god they’re going to get these two idiots to realize what’s been right in front of their eyes this whole time.

And this is only the beginning of the royal love story of King Hair and King Freak and how they turned Hawkins High upside down.

I guess you could say they really are all that.

-

Tagged: @derythcorvinus

[seniaasaysstuff]

Geto and Gojo fucking you in the afterlife || 𝐠𝐨𝐣𝐨 𝐬𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮 & 𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐮𝐫𝐮 𝐱 fem! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫🔞.

PAIRING - gojo satoru & geto suguru x female reader

Losing my damn mind over the leaks. So here’s a smut ficlet. At least they’re together in heaven now⁉️

WARNINGS - nsfw content, double penetration, mind break, praise kink, slight degradation + pet names, rough oral sex, rough sex in general.

“She looks so delectable, doesn’t she? Suguru?” Satoru rasped, his voice full of lust. His eyes were brimming with hunger and desire as he looked at you lying down on the bed, looking at them with a seductive gaze.

“She does satoru,” Suguru responded as He ran his fingers lightly over your thighs. He moved his hand even higher brushing his fingers on your clothed cunt.

“Ahh Suguru,” You needily moaned. “Stop with the teasing!” You whined.

Satoru placed his finger against your lips. “Uh uh! No talking sweetheart,” He playfully chided you. Suguru held you by your knees, gently spreading your legs. He tore your panties off making you gasp in surprise.

Satoru used this as an opportunity and shoved two of his fingers in your mouth. “Suck,” Satoru ordered. You gagged on his fingers as you looked up at Satoru with fogged eyes. “Our pretty girl.” He praised.

Suguru lowered his face in between your thighs, licking your folds. You squirmed as he teased your folds. He left small feathery kisses on your thighs. His hands teased the outside of your cunt. You shuddered in pleasure.

While Suguru was fucking you with his tongue, Satoru thrust his cock inside your mouth. He grabbed a handful of your hair, pulling you closer.

Drool was running down your chin as your lips were parted around his cock. Tears gathered in your eyes as he kept moving his hips, hitting the back of your throat.

He groaned as he took his cock out of your mouth and spurted cum on your face. He then scooped some of the cum and shoved it in your mouth.

You skillfully licked his fingers, swirling your tongue around them. You opened your mouth showing him that you swallowed all his cum.

“Good girl.” He praised. Satoru joined Suguru as he left bite marks all over your thighs making you sob. He stood on the side stroking his cock while Suguru slipped a finger inside. He started to stretch you out, moving at a gentle pace.

“Such a mess aren’t you?” He teasingly questioned. “Fuck I love the sounds you make,” He grunted.

“Please Suguru,” You sobbed. He pulled out his fingers and licked them. Suguru grabbed his cock and ran the head of his cock up and down your folds. You moaned in pleasure.

Satoru left a trail of hickeys and bites around your neck, collarbone down to your chest. The pain made you gasp.

“Please…” you whimpered. “Say it? What do you want?” He asked huskily, roughly grabbing a handful of your hair. “I want you! I want your cock in me!” You begged, your entire body quivering in pleasure.

He tightened his hold on your hair as he slammed into your needy cunt. You were immediately brought to tears, letting out a desperate cry. “Oh, you cry so prettily.” He cooed at you.

“Our filthy slut,” Satoru praised. You took hold of Satoru’s cock and slowly started stroking it as Suguru slammed into your cunt.

Your tight pussy stretching him and pushing him even deeper. “Oh god yes! Please Suguru harder,”

Your cries and pleas pushed him over the edge, making him thrust even harder. Suguru grunted, “You’re doing great baby.” He assured you.

You felt as if you were intoxicated. “Gonna fill you up with my cum.” He groaned as he amped up his pace, furiously slamming into you. His cock hit the right spot with every thrust.

“M’so close.” You cried out. He started to mercilessly fondle your clit making you feel as if your body was on fire.

Your whole body shook and jerked forward as you came. He came a second later, releasing his sticky hot cum inside you.

“My turn now,” Satoru said as he bent you at the edge of the bed. “Ready for my cock slut?” He raspsed, grinding his cock against your slit dripping with cum.

“Please toru- oh my god,” You wailed as you humped against his cock. He slammed into your aching cunt and began thrusting at a steady pace.

“Please I can’t it’s too much.” You sobbed, feeling overwhelmed. “You did so well sweetheart, ” Satoru spoke as he gently sat you on his lap.

“Suguru do you think our slut can take us both inside her at the same time?” His hand moved to your waist as he positioned himself to go inside you. Geto chuckled, “Of course, she can she’s our girl after all.”

Gojo lowered you down on his cock making you moan loudly. Geto moved behind you, his dick teasing your cunt.

You didn’t know how both of them would fit into your pussy considering the sizes but you were willing to make it work.

You gasped at the intrusion as geto began to push inside your cunt. You arched your back as he entered. “Look at you taking us so well,” Gojo whispered, letting his breath tickle your ear.

[lifelaughloveharrystyles]

Ross Lynch: givemewhatuwant

*on tour with the driver era 2024*

“Y/N do you know where we are at?” Garrison calls from the back of the bus with all the boys.

The Driver Era has been on tour for about a month now, traveling all over the east coast showcasing their phenomenal songs that they made from scratch. I had the amazing opportunity to come on the tour as one of the equipment managers. This has been my biggest dream in my career, working at “The Doors Rock Shop”. It’s a well known instrument company in Atlanta Georgia where people would go to get a guitar and a crystal at the same time. I got this amazing job with touring The Driver Era with my cousin Poppy who is with us on tour as one of the tour photographers.

“Y/N!” Ryland shouts from the back. I look outside to see we are about to arrive to the venue in Asheville North Carolina. “we are about to pull up to the venue guys!” I said looking to the back of the bus and I see Ross in the hall with just pajamas pants on. “Word! i’m ready to stretch my legs and get out and move.” Ross said stretching his arms looking like he just woke up from a nap.

Ross and I have gotten really close on this tour. i’m normally not on their bus, i travel in a large van behind the bus with the crew. We haven’t stopped talking to each other whether it’s in person while im helping carry his beautiful gibson to him when he goes in for his solos or text. We make these jokes everytime I have to give his guitar to him in a show and I always make a bet with him about how many girls will scream “take your shirt off!”. Secretly I was jealous I couldn’t be those beautiful girls making him smile and shake his hips like that and pleading to take his shirt off for me. Having him as a friend is the best, I just know he could never like me that way. I’m his equipment manager, I lift speakers and drums for a living and he’s a fucking rockstar sex god. I mean look at his recent ex. like how can I compare to Jaz Sinclair. I have to be just a friend to protect myself from that energy.

Everyone ends up scattering across the venue to start their projects for the day. The show starts at 8 so I scramble around to the strings van to transfer the instruments to their spots on the stage so the boys can start soundchecking and tuning their guitars to the songs.

“Y/N why is it you’re always the one carrying the most stuff in the building when Greg is suppose to do that because of your knee.” Riker says from the green room where I walked in with a coffee for myself and him. “Riker i’m telling you Greg is so fucking slow I can’t bear watching him take 45 minutes to set up a guitar stand. I gotta get the shit done so I can actually enjoy myself for the day.” I express to him and i’m frazzled pinging from one corner of the stage to the other figuring out all the wires and amps so they can start their sound check.

“Y/N take a deep breath or a certain someone is going to come in here and see this and raise hell.” Riker laughed as he secretly points in the direction of Ross and Rocky’s green room. I roll my eyes and wave him off not believing a word he said.

Riker thinks he’s slick with trying to hook me up with Ross ever since we started the tour. i’ve seen the small hints of asking ross to come to me when he can’t find the setlist or where his extra picks are. Riker is basically our tour mom, he is making everyone smoothies and making sure everyone is hydrated before every show. Besides Ross, me and Riker have been attached to the hip.

“Shut up Riker before I grab a pair of scissors and cut your bass strings” I jokingly threaten him with a huge smile on my face.

“Oh God Riker what did you do to piss Y/N off again?” Ross said coming out of the side stage with a vintage baseball cap that says “i’m a local celebrity” with a white tee and baggy light washed denim pants. he slings his arm over my shoulder making us sway to the random song playing on the speakers. I look up to see him already looking down at me with that infamous smile he wears. “Nice Hat pretty boy.” i laughed and flicked the bill of the hat. “So which songs are we playing tonight? any newbies?” I smile back at him really hoping he’ll play one of my favorite songs at the show tonight. “Yes Y/N we are playing givemewhatuwant and Natural if that’s what you’re asking.” he chuckles and pulls away from me to pick up his guitar to start sound checking. I squeal and jump off the stage and start jogging to the doors to get the rest of the equipment “YES ROSS YOURE THE BEST” I scream at him and blow him a friendly kiss as I run out the door.

*Ross’ POV*

Y/N is the most precious and loving human I have ever met. she just brightens the room when she walks in. Whether it’s her bubbly personality or just her energy she radiates, it’s one of the reasons why I love having her close by. She makes me feel like life is worth living again. Heartbreak after heartbreak, I felt like love isn’t an option for me anymore. I have thousands of people falling at my feet but it never fills the void of feeling unloved. Hookups and one night stands can only do so much to the point even sex isn’t appealing to you anymore. Ever since Y/N walked into my life, it’s has taken a complete 180. I feel lighter. happier. I wake up excited for the day knowing I get to see and talk to the most beautiful woman I have ever met. She doesn’t compare to any girl I have ever been with or even seen. Befriending her was my first hit in the game and i’m ready for the home run. I want her to be mine. I need her to be my girl. I feel like I can’t live life without her by my side. she completes me in a way I have never felt before. I’m worried i’ll scare her away if I confess what i’ve been feeling inside. I just need to rip the bandaid and just go for it, be a man and express this to this wonderful girl.

*10 minutes before showtime*

*Y/N POV*

“what’s our bet tonight Ross?” I ask him walking up to the band. I just finished helping set up the stage for The Driver Era after Valé’s performance. She did amazing as she does every night. Tonight however the energy feels a bit off. Ross looks like he’s in his head about something and I just don’t know what. Everything went smoothly today and the crowd already has such a good vibe for the night, there’s nothing else to worry about. “Ross? You good?” I asked while rubbing his arm while he looks off in the distance.

“Yeah i’m good, just in my head a bit. Nothing to worry about, probably stage fright.” he has a fake smile plastered on his face to try and not worry me. I know him better than anyone that he is in his head about something and it’s definitely not stage fright.

“Do you need to talk before you go on? you are not good. you can try and fake smile at me but you know it’s not going to work. What’s going on in that head of yours?” I step forward to see his full face instead of the side and look up in those beautiful hazel brown eyes he adorns on his face. he sighs loudly and closes his eyes before opening them he says. “Y/N there’s been a lot of shit going on in my life and ever since I met you, it seems like everything disappeared when you walked in the room. You make me so happy and giddy to the point I get antsy when I don’t see you first thing in the morning. You light up my life and I know we only have known each other for a month but I feel it. My God I hope you feel it too so I don’t feel like the biggest idiot before this sold out show. I like you Y/N, I don’t want to wake up without you by my side. Please tell me you feel the same.” he pleads and grabs

my face in his hands and put his forehead to mine.

“Just shut up and kiss me Ross. I’ve been waiting way too long for you to say those words. I just need your lips on mine before you-“ he slams his lips on mine before I could sentence my sentence. I wrap my arms around his neck melting in his arms loving every second of this moment.

“Ross let’s go! you’ll have plenty of time to make out with Y/N after the show, come on!” Rocky shouts from the side stage making us break away from our heavy kiss. I smile and push him towards his brother. “Lucky for you i’m going to be in the pit with Poppy helping her take photos. I promise to get the best angles, I might sneak a couple just for my entertainment.” I smirk and he laughs and kisses my cheek and runs on stage right on his cue.

The boys are rocking out and came out full throttle. I’ve been helping poppy this show because one of the extra photographers called out and couldn’t make it. I can already feel the energy in this knowing it’s gonna be a great night. “ Y/N why has Ross been staring and smirking at you all night? Did he finally have the balls to do it?” She smirks at me side glancing to the stage. I look up and sure enough he’s staring at me with hooded eyes with his hair clinging to his sweaty forehead. He squats down to my level and curls his finger for me to come closer. I take a step towards him and he whispers “you are making it incredibly hard for me to stop this show and take you backstage to have my girl strip that skirt off so I can fuck that beautiful pussy.” he kisses my earlobe and pulls away before I could even react. my jaw drops and I step back and look at poppy and she’s busting out laughing at my reactions and hugs me and squeals in excitement. She always said from day one that Ross will end up falling over me. I brushed it out because of stupidity and insecurities. Now i’m like ‘fuck she’s right…. again’.

“That man is already planning the wedding in his brain and he hasn’t even gotten in your pants yet. I saw the kiss when I was setting up. “ She says while snapping pictures of the band while they play “Natural”. I get excited and dance and sing along. I decide to tease ross a bit, i shake my hips to the beat and drag my palms up my stomach making my shirt ride up a bit. He notices and bites his lip and tilts his hat down and looks at me with sultry eyes. I wink at him and flick him off. he smirks and proceeds to perform the rest of the song.

The show finally ended and the boys are celebrating in the green room with a couple of drinks. I finished my job for the night when I start searching for Ross to actually start my night. I feel hands wrap around my middle and I instantly melt when I smell fresh body wash and sandalwood. “Let’s go to the bus, I promise to keep my hands to myself” Ross mumbles kissing my neck with his hands roaming my hips pulling me closer to his warmth. I chuckle and turn my head to see his face and tease his lips with mine before I dart towards the direction of the bus. I hear his laughs behind me when I get up to the door to the bus.

he meets me inside and starts teasing my neck again guiding me to the back of the bus. He closes the sliding door and locks it in place. I arch my neck towards him in a way to let him know I want his lips on me. He starts sucking on my neck behind my ear. he kisses all the way to my lips and he slams his lips on mine. I moan and run my fingers through his hair and tug at the ends. He groans in my mouth and starts unzipping my corset like top. I gasp when I feel the cold air on my bare back. The shirts comes loose from my body and falls at our feet. “Beautiful” He whispers to himself when he see my breasts in full exposure. He starts peppering kisses all over my breasts and he cups his lips around my nipple and start sucking to drive me wild. I moan a sound that has never escaped from me before and I tug his face up to mine “Just fuck me already Ross. I need you so bad. Feel how wet I am” I whimper grabbing his hand and pressing it to my core. he rubs his fingertips against the sensitive nub and I moan loudly biting my lip. He shrugs his pants off and throws his shirt somewhere while I undress myself as fast as I can. “I wanted this to be slow and make this moment last as long as possible but I can’t bear anything anymore. I need to be inside you baby.” Ross said as he slips on a condom with a groan. He pushes the tip towards my entrance and I close my eyes waiting for the first push. “Look at me Y/N. I need to see your face” he pleads. I open my eyes the same time he enters me and I gasp at the size of him. He slowly thrusts in and out letting me get used to his size.

“Faster Baby. Fuck you feel so good” I scream as his pace picks up. he grabs my leg and throws it over his left shoulder slamming his hips into the back of my thighs. He presses a hand against my stomach and I moan feeling him deeper inside of me. “Fuck baby I can feel it. My god your pussy is perfect. You’re so tight, you were made for me” He groans fucking me harder making me slam a hand on the window beside me. “Ross i’m so close. please let me cum. fuck baby” I moan in his ear and drag my nails down his back. “Yes baby. Let go for me. Cum all over my cock. Make a mess of me. “ he slams his hips into mine as we both hit our climax at the same time. he thrusts slowly while we come from our highs. I breathe heavily and rest my head on the armrest of couch. Ross slowly lays his head on my breast letting some of his weight fall on me. I run my hand through his hair and just smile wanting this moment to never end.

“Whatcha thinking about beautiful?” he asked slowly pulling out making me wince. “Just realizing how did I get this lucky? I don’t deserve you.” my eyes start tearing up looking at his eyes and studying all of his features. “You don’t deserve me? You got it all wrong baby. You are the most beautiful human I have ever laid my eyes on. We are meant to be here in this moment for a reason and I know down the road we will look back at this time and just laugh and smile about all these memories we have made together. I want to make memories with you forever Y/N. l- I love you so fucking much I can’t hold it in anymore.” He rambles sitting up on the L shaped couch and pulling me to his chest. I breathe in his scent and close my eyes. “Ross, I love you so much it makes it hard for me to breathe. I’ll love you to the day I die.” I look up at him and he slams his lips on mine putting a hand over my heart to feel the thumps of my rapid heartbeat. Our lips move and he slips his tongue in and our tongues dance along together lazily.

We finally had the energy to get up after 30 minutes of lazy kisses and just appreciating the moment we just shared. Everyone comes back to the bus after the celebratory shots.

“So where did both of you guys run off too earlier?” Garrison asked slipping on a hoodie and a crochet bucket hat I made for him in Wisconsin. “I don’t kiss and tell but it was definitely fun for sure.” Ross winks and pulls me to sit on his lap.

“They fucked in the back of the bus. there’s a hand print on the window to prove it.” Ryland said smirking into his tequila soda. I roll my eyes and tap the bottom of his cup to make it spill all over his neck and shirt. “Y/N what the fuck dude!” he shouts snatching napkins from Riker. I laugh so hard I snort and then that makes everyone in the bus have a laughing fit. I lean my head back on ross’ shoulder and he kisses the top of my head whispering “I love you” in my ear. my eyes start drooping and I fall asleep on the love of my life and already can’t wait to wake up to experience this life with him.

[hippiegoth97]

She-Bop: Eddie Munson x Reader

Collage by Me :)

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Description: Eddie is out late with his band, and you're alone in your shared apartment. You miss him and start feeling needy. Eddie catches you in the act...

Content Warning 18+ Only, Minors DNI: smut, swearing, female reader, masturbation, spanking, fingering, oral sex, praise/degradation, unprotected sex

Word Count: 2.8k

Divider by @strangergraphics

She-Bop

You lay on the couch in the apartment you share with Eddie. He's out late rehearsing with Corroded Coffin. Most times you'd be there too, but the band's working on a secret song that they don't want anyone to hear yet. Eddie assured you it was going to be worth the wait, but you enjoy watching him practice. He plays like a rock god, and his voice is so sexy. Rehearsing always amps Eddie up too, and he fucks you senseless whenever you both return home. You sigh, flipping through channels to find something to distract yourself until your love comes back. You settle on Magnum P.I. You've always had a soft spot for Tom Selleck, that mustache is something else.

You try your best to focus on the show, but your mind keeps drifting back to how you imagine Eddie looks right now. Sleeves rolled up, his hair wild as he strikes every chord perfectly. His eyes blazing into yours as he sings, putting you under his spell. You're getting wet just thinking about him, you curse the time as there's still an hour before he'll be back. You decide to lay down, closing your eyes. Maybe a nap will help, next thing you know, Eddie will be shaking you awake. You try to relax, shoving Eddie's charms into a closet in your mind. Unfortunately for you, his voice begins flowing from under that closet door. His siren song calls to you, and you can't help but heed it.

You imagine him here with you, kissing you, holding you close. You picture him kissing your neck, setting your skin on fire with his touch. Eddie's hands roam over your chest, squeezing your tits through your tank top. Your hand mimics the actions you're imagining, causing you to moan as you knead your own breast. You see him slowly moving his way down, his hand going inside your shorts. Your own hand mirrors his, feeling your slick folds. "Eddie." You moan out quietly. He's smiling up at you, working your clit in slow circles. More moans escape your lips as you slip two fingers inside yourself, pretending they're his own instead. Pumping in and out of you, you hit the spot inside yourself again and again. Eddie's much better at this, his fingers are longer, able to please you completely. But for now, your own will have to do.

Your pace quickens, curling your digits as you work yourself over. Your pleasure is building, a knot tightening itself in your belly. You imagine Eddie giving you all his usual praises, pet names, telling you how much of a good girl you are. "Oh, Eddie." You moan his name over and over, seeing him finger you at a punishing rhythm. His thumb circles your clit as his fingers continue to thrust. "Fuck, Eddie." You whine, your knot tightens with every movement, threatening to snap at any moment. You almost reach your high, when you hear the door to the apartment swing open.

"Sorry I'm late, sweetheart-" He calls to you as he walks into the room, kicking off his shoes. "What the fuck, Y/N?" Your eyes snap open to see Eddie standing in front of you. He's caught you in the act, his eyes wide and mouth agape. Your cheeks burn as you slowly remove your hand from your shorts. He stands there a moment, crossing his arms. You're in for it now. "What have I told you about touching yourself when I'm not here, Y/N?" He asks, slightly angry. He walks over to the couch, standing over you. You can't help but look down to his crotch, noticing his cock already hardening in his jeans. "I asked you a question. Look at me." Your eyes return to his, you swallow hard.

"I'm sorry, Eddie. I just missed you, I couldn't get you out of my mind. I-" He cuts you off by pulling you up from the couch, smashing his lips on yours. You join him in the kiss, your hands tangling in his frizzy locks. You tug on them, making him groan. His hands grip your hips roughly. You know not all is forgiven just yet, he just can't help himself. He can't help but love the idea of you touching yourself while thinking about him. But you still need to be punished, and he knows just what he has to do. He breaks the kiss, breathing heavily in your face.

"Go to the bedroom. Now." He lets go of you, waiting for you to obey his command. You walk past him, doing as he says. He follows close behind you, smacking your ass hard as you open the bedroom door. You moan loudly at this, making his cock twitch. "Strip." He says lowly. Eddie slams the door shut, then he sits on the bed. You take off your tank top and shorts, and Eddie smirks at the fact you have nothing on underneath them. "Come here." You move to stand in front of him. His hand reaches out to caress you, moving from your thigh up to your breast. He grabs it roughly, kneading it in his large hand. His rings feel cold on your skin, you shiver. "Lay over my lap, sweetheart." You heed his order, positioning yourself over him. Your knees sit on the floor, and Eddie grabs your ass. You feel his erection underneath you, pressing into your stomach. You moan slightly as Eddie's right hand raises, you anticipate him bringing it back down to spank you. Warm wetness gathers in your folds again. "Count for me, Y/N. Count until you think you've been punished fairly."

"One." You breathe out, your voice laced with lust. His hand makes contact with your ass, and you moan again.

"Two." Smack. You moan louder. Arousal drips from between your legs onto the floor. You love when Eddie punishes you. The pain from his hand turns you on in such a primal way.

"Three." Smack. "Fuck, Eddie. You make me so wet when you do that."

Eddie leans down to whisper in your ear. "You like when I hit you?” He asks, and you nod silently. “Mmm, you're such a dirty girl, Y/N. Keep going."

"Four." Smack. You swear you could cum just from this, the sting of every slap spurs you on further.

"Five." Smack.

"Six!" Smack.

"SEVEN!" Smack. Your eyes are watering now. Your ass is red, and it stings when Eddie caresses it. You wince at his touch. He snatches the hand away when he hears your pain.

"I think that's enough, princess. You were so good for me." He rubs your back now, comforting you. You breathe out shakily, and he helps you sit on the bed beside him. He faces you, wiping away the tears running down your cheeks. "Was I too rough, love?" He asks, you hear the worry in his voice.

"No, Eddie. It's okay. I was the one counting, right?" You smile at him, sniffling a little.

"That you were, my sexy girl." He smirks at you. He takes your hands in his, lifting them up to kiss them. You giggle as he does. "Since you took your punishment like such a good girl, how about a reward?" His eyes are dark with lust as his smile widens. He leans in closer, making his way to your neck. "I happen to be feeling quite generous tonight." His lips connect with your throat, and you moan. He takes this as his cue to bite down on the skin, marking you as his.

"Eddie." You gasp. He keeps littering your neck with kisses as he maneuvers you to lay down on the bed. Your legs are dangling off the edge, with Eddie positioned between them. As he continues marking you, you realize he's still fully clothed. And you can't have that. You push him away lightly, he looks at you in confusion. "You're overdressed, babe." You say, poking his chest with your finger playfully. He rolls his eyes and stands up, pulling his shirt over his head. You take a moment to look at his chest, it's slightly toned, but not too much. Tattoos adorn his perfect skin, and you sit up to run your hands up and down on him. You love touching him in any way you can, it's like an addiction at times.

"You love getting handsy, don't you princess?" He's looking down at you, watching you caress him. You nod at him, lowering your hands to his belt. You pull on it to bring him closer. You palm him through his jeans with one hand while the other undoes the belt. "Fuck, Y/N. You're playing with fire here." He groans, grabbing the back of your head roughly. You know what he wants, and make quick work of removing his pants and boxers. He kicks them away, and removes his socks. His dick is right in front of your lips, and Eddie maintains his grip on your head. "Suck, Y/N." He commands, slightly pushing your face closer.

You take him in your mouth, fitting as much of his length as you can. He moans at how wet and warm your mouth is. You love doing this to him, it makes your mouth water. You bob back and forth on him, working what can't fit with your hand. You pick up the pace, swirling your tongue around his cock as you move. Eddie moans your name, and calls you all your pet names as you work. He's so fucked for you, bucking his hips forward every so often. You gag each time as he's hitting the back of your throat, which causes him to groan even louder.

"Jesus, fuck. Y/N, don't stop." Eddie whimpers. You start moving even faster, knowing he's close to the edge. You gag on him over and over, pushing yourself to deepthroat him. You want him to cum down your throat, you crave the taste of his release. He's not like most guys who are so salty, he tastes sweet like candy. You're not sure how or why, but it makes you enjoy blowing him almost as much as fucking him. Your eyes water again as you keep gagging on him, determined to make him come undone. "Gonna cum, princess." He chokes out, his body tensing up. You feel the white ropes filling your throat, and you stay on him until his high subsides. You make sure to swallow every last drop, then you finally release him with a pop.

"You taste so good, babe. I love having your dick in my mouth." You say as you smile up at him. He meets your gaze, in awe of you. Usually you're quite shy about saying such vulgar things, but he loves it when you have a bit of confidence in the bedroom. He feels himself hardening again from your filthy words. Eddie gently pushes you backwards to lay on the bed again, and drops to his knees on the floor. He spreads your legs wider, holding your thighs in place. Your breath hitches as his left hand moves to stroke your folds. He feels how wet you are for him and doesn't hesitate to push two fingers inside of you. "Fuck, Eddie!" You cry out, your hands balling up the blanket beneath you.

"You like having my fingers inside you, love? Seemed like you were enjoying your own just fine earlier." He keeps his fingers still inside you. He wants you to tell him how much he pleases you before he goes further.

"Yours are so much better, babe. Please don't tease me. I need you." You're begging him to do something, anything. You're so hungry for him, and he's making you squirm for just one taste. His fingers begin to move, pumping in and out of you rapidly. Your back arches off the bed, and you moan out his name. His thumb makes circles on your clit as he continues to speed up. He's hitting your g spot with every stroke, and you feel the knot tightening again. The room feels like it's caught fire, and your body is melting in the heat. Moans and curses fly from your lips and into Eddie's ears.

"Who makes you feel this good, princess?" He asks, bringing his face to your cunt to replace his fingers. His tongue begins licking stripes on you, going inside you every so often. You almost scream at the new sensation, clutching the blanket even tighter.

"You, Eddie…only you." You can barely form the words. Eddie's relentless, making all the right moves to keep tightening the knot inside you. You want to cum so badly, you feel like you'll burst into flames if you don’t. "Fuck, Eddie. Don't stop, please. Make me cum." You cry out to him.

"You've earned it, sweetheart. Cum for me." He says just before sucking your clit into his mouth. You feel the knot finally snap, and you scream his name. Your legs shake, hips involuntarily bucking off the bed. He holds you steady as you ride out your high, and he strokes your thighs lovingly to help ground you. You're still seeing stars as Eddie guides you to stand up with him. His arms wrap around your waist, holding you close. He kisses you hungrily, still wanting more. You return the kiss roughly, already very aroused again. You feel his dick pressing against you, and you lightly stroke it with your hand. His breath hitches at your touch. "Turn around darling, and bend over." He commands you again, grinning. You do as he says, placing your hands on the bed, ass in the air facing him. You feel him behind you, wrapping his arm around your stomach to keep a hold on you. His cock strokes the outside of your cunt, making both of you moan. He keeps teasing you, drawing out as many noises as he can from you.

"Eddie, please. Just fuck me already. I can't take the teasing." You whine, and he happily obliges you. He shoves his dick into you roughly, knocking the wind out of you. When your breath returns, he begins thrusting at a merciless pace. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping together fill the room. You love when he fucks you like this, his cock manages to hit your g spot every single time, making you see stars. Your walls flutter around him as your orgasm slowly builds.

"Who fucks you better than anyone else, princess?" Eddie growls between thrusts. He feels himself nearing the edge again.

"You do, love. Only you." You whimper. He's pounding into you now, his rings making indentations on your skin as he holds you like his life depends on it. He's doing everything he can to set you off, chasing your high along with his own. He wants so badly for you to clamp down on him, screaming his name. He lets one hand creep down your front to your clit, rubbing in circles. "I'm so close, Eddie. Don't stop."

"Just a little longer." He says, his breath hitching at his impending high. You try your best to hold back your orgasm, but the knot desperately wants to be let go. His thrusts become a bit sloppy, signaling his release. "Cum with me, darling." His words are all it takes, and you feel yourself come undone. Waves of bliss wash over you, making you scream. Your cunt squeezes his cock, all of its contents filling you up. Your thighs shake uncontrollably, your knees buckle beneath you. Eddie holds you up as he rides out the remainder of his high. He pulls out of you, and you fall face first into the bed. He collapses beside you, panting. You both lie here for a moment, waiting for your hearts to stop pounding.

You roll over to face Eddie. "I love you, babe." You say quietly. He looks over at you, still catching his breath.

"I love you too, princess. Come here." He pulls you into his arms, kissing you passionately before laying your head on his chest. His right hand strokes your hair. "You're so beautiful, Y/N. I don't know how I got so lucky."

"I'm pretty lucky too, you know." You giggle into his chest. "You're so sexy, and you're so sweet and kind. You're the perfect man for me, Eddie. I wouldn't have it any other way." You sigh in contentment. You're finding it hard to keep your eyes open, and you try to hold back a yawn.

"Come on, darling. Let's get under the covers, you're so tired." He lifts you off of him, moving the blankets to cover the both of you. He pulls you even closer now, kissing the top of your head. "Sleep well, sweetheart." You barely hear him, already drifting off to sleep.

The end.

[luvyeni]

10 DAYS TO FALL IN LOVE — chapter 12. got the girl !

word count. 1.4k+ content warning. oral ( f. receiving ), unprotected sex, fluff

— 💌 authors note. last chapter, let's go ❤️‍🔥, thank you reading !!!

Your legs bounced up and down nervously as you waited for heeseung to show up — the cat sitting in your lap jumping off your leg due to the shaking. “im sorry jumi, mommy is just nervous.”

The cat meowed walking out of the room — running towards the door as your door bell buzzed, making you jump up. You slowly open the door, walking out of your room, into the kitchen where the door was — opening it.

Heeseung nervously rang the doorbell — he was finally getting the chance he wanted, but he was sweating bullets and it felt like his heart was gonna fall into his ass, but he couldn’t help but get amped up at the thought of finally having you.

The door slowly opened and he couldn’t help himself — pushing it fully open, making you step back, but he a grabbed your arm, pulling you into his arms hugging you tightly. “I love you so much.” He whispered, grabbing your face, pulling you into a feverish kiss.

“fuck you don’t understand how much I love you.” He said breathlessly, pulling you back into a kiss. His hand came down to your waist, guiding you into the house closing to door to your apartment with his foot. His hands came down to the thighs, lifting you up, taking you into your bedroom, not even bothering to close the door.

“Heeseung.” You breathlessly said as he gently put you down on the bed, his body hovering over yours. “I love you too.” He looked into your eyes, his hand caressing your face, kissing your lips. “Gonna show you how much I love you.”

He kissed your chin, then your neck — you sighed in pleasure as he left little kisses against your sweet spot. “so precious baby.” He whispered in your ear. “making such pretty noises for me.” He sat up, instructing you to lift up your arms so he could take your shirt off. “im not wearing a bra.” He smirked at your widened eyes. “even better princess.” He lifted your shirt over your head, your perky tits on display making his mouth water.

“Need to suck on them.” He grabbed one of your boobs, putting his mouth on your nipple — rolling it around in his mouth. “hee-heeseung.” You moaned as he sucked and licked at your nipples, your body jerking against him at the sensation. “hee-heeseung I need you.”

Hearing you moan his name like that made his cock jump in his sweats, finally releasing your boob. “So pretty baby.” He grabbed the waistband of your shorts, pulling them down — your pink panties with a cute little bow on it, he smiled. “cute baby.”

You tried to cover your face in embarrassment, but he quickly caught your hands. “no no, don’t hide from me princess.” He said putting your hands down, leaning down in between to kiss your stomach, slowly making his way down, leaving little red marks over your stomach.

He reached your panty line, looking up at you through his lashes, waiting for your permission. As soon as you nodded, he pulled your panties down your leg, revealing your soaked cunt. “fuck baby.” He groaned, leaning down inhaling your scent. “sh-shit you smell so good.” You moaned at his words. “need to taste you.” He kissed the inside of your thighs, making you squirm around. “calm down princess.” He held your waist down. “gonna eat your pretty pussy now.”

He kissed your folds, licking a stripe against your cunt making you moan out. “so sensitive baby.” He smirked, repeating his actions over and over— kitty licking your clit until you grabbed a fist full of his hair. “pl-please, i-i need more.” You moaned, pressing his face closer into your cunt, feeling his tongue prodding at your hole. “fu-fuck heeseung.”

He shoved his tongue as deep as he could go, his nose bumping against your clit. i-i— oh my god.” You gasped as you felt one of his long fingers slowly entering you. “hee-heeseung.” You panted, he smiled. “feels good princess?” you nodded. “gotta stretch you out, so you can take my cock.” He added a another finger, kissing your clit as he fingered you. “heeseung-shit- heeseung im gonna cum.” You moaned out, almost screaming as he curled his fingers, hitting that gummy spot. “fu-fuck im cumming!”

He opened his mouth, letting your juices fill his mouth, getting his fill, drinking up everything your precious body had to offer him. “Fu-fuck baby, you taste so good.” He smiled, his lips glossed over. “You came so much, good girl.”

He toyed with your sensitive clit, using his other hand to pull his sweats down enough to let his hard cock out, stroking his cock, his tip a firetruck red  dripping with pre-cum. “gonna take my cock aren’t you?” you bit your lip, intimidating by the size. “it’s so big, i've never done this before.”

He smirked hearing you actually admit it — jumping on the inside that he’d be the first person to have you — first and hopefully only after this. “don’t worry that pretty little head princess.” You whined as he rubbed up and down your folds. “I got you.”

He teased your hole with his tip, pushing it in making you mewl. “you ready baby?” you nodded and he slowly pushed himself inside of you, stretching your poor cunt out. “heeseung, sh-shit!”

He finally bottomed out, groaning as he felt your cunt around his cock. “sh-shit baby.” He grunted, both of his hands resting at the side of your head. “Your little pussy is barely letting my cock out, relax baby, let me take care of you.” He gave you a little kiss on the corner of your lips, pulling away. “hee-heeseung, please move.”

He pulled out, pushing himself back inside your cunt, rocking his hips slowly against yours. “oh fuck baby, your pussy is so addicting.” He held your legs up, hitting a new angle. “can’t let nobody have you after this.”

You were a moaning mess as he sped up his thrust, your tits bouncing at the impact. “hee-heeseung -yes fuck!” you screamed as he hit a deeper angel.

“My naughty girl.” He smirked, his hand coming down to rub your clit. “you gonna cum for me?” he cooed. “give me all you got right?” You nodded, feeling your orgasm building up. “m'gonna cum.” You whined. “Go a head princess, cum for me.”

He pushed deep inside you— your mouth dropped open, eyes widened as you came with a cry. “there you go princess -fuck- cum for me.” He groaned, slowly rocking his hips as he felt his orgasm approaching.

“Fu-fuck I love you so much.” He groaned deeply into your ear. “tell me you love me.” He said, grabbing a hold of your hand. “tell me.” You felt another orgasm coming.  “I-I l-love you.” You stuttered out. “Fu-fuck heeseung im gonna cum again.”

“Sh-shit me too, let’s -fuck- let’s cum together.” He groaned, thrusting deeply triggering both of your orgasms. “fuck!” both of you moaned out as you came, his load shooting into your waiting hole. “oh fuck.” He pulled out, some of his cum spurting on your folds. “sh-shit , so pretty.”

He quietly got off the bed, helping you up into the bathroom, running you a warm bath, sitting in there with you, washing your hair while whispering sweet nothings into your ear. He helped you out, drying your hair and body, before putting his shirt over your body. “let’s get you into bed okay?”

He carried you to bed, laying next to you in silence — your head on resting on his chest, leaving little kisses. “you’re so cute.” He giggled, making you smile. “I really do love you yn.” He spoke up. “I think i've loved you since I was that nerdy 13 year old boy.” He confessed. “and I really want to give this a try.”

“I love you too heeseung.” You sat up, his arms still wrapped around your waist. “im sorry im so uptight, I just don’t want you to do anything and get hurt.” You said playing with your fingers. “i'll stop, i swear i'll try my hardest, I never want to cause stress in your life.”

“I don’t expect you to stop right away, I just want you to make an effort.” You said. “I will I promise.” He said caressing your face. “So can we give this a chance?” you smile nodding, he grabbed both sides of your face, bringing you into a kiss. “I finally got the girl i've waited half my life for.” You laughed. “you mean the one you followed around then annoyed for half your life?” he shrugged.

“either way I got the girl I wanted.”

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©️LUVYENI

[sillysowa]

Ask and you shall receive, my lovelies!

ALL MINE!

PAIRING: HOBIE BROWN X PLUSSIZED!FEM!READER

GENRE: SMUT! PWP

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

WARNINGS: NON DESCRIPTIVE BODY SHAMING, FACESITTING, FACE RIDING, VAGINAL SEX, BODY WORSHIP

AUTHORS NOTE: I TRIED MY ABSOLUTE BEST TO WRITE ABOUT AN EXPERIENCE THAT I AM NOT INCREDIBLY FAMILIAR WITH, PLEASE LET ME KNOW IF ANY OF MY REPRESENTATION OR CONTENT IS OFFENSIVE OR INACCURATE! I WAS NOT COMFORTABLE WITH WRITING DESCRIPTIVE BODY SHAMING. SORRY IF THIS SEEMS AT ALL RUSHED, BEEN HELLA BUSY!

SYNOPSIS: YOU SURPRISE YOUR BOYFRIEND HOBIE AT HIS BIGGEST CONCERT YET, ONLY FOR SOME GROUPIES TO MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE SHIT, BUT HOBIE DOESN’T LET THAT SLIDE—OH AND HE FUCKS THE SHIT OUT OF YOU LATER!

—

Today was a big day. Hobie and his band are going to have a concert at their biggest venue yet, and you’re going to surprise him in the crowd. Originally, you and Hobie were pretty bummed because you had plans that day already, and you were almost positive that you wouldn’t be able to get the day off—but turns out you were wrong. Without telling Hobie, you managed to clear up your day completely, and get VIP floor tickets to the show. You had even gone shopping for a concert outfit that would make you look amazing under the concert lights. You are incredibly confident in your body and how it looks, and you really wanted to show it off.

It was the night of, Hobie left earlier, obviously disappointed that you wouldn’t be there but still understanding that your schedule was busy. The smell of his cologne when he bent down to kiss you, his guitar over his shoulder and his amp in his hands was a sight for sore eyes. The moment he left, you went straight to the nearest mirror and did your makeup, spending all the time necessary to look your absolute best. Finally it was time for the outfit. It was beautiful. It was absolutely everything you wanted and it looked beautiful on you. You couldn’t wait for Hobie to see you, illuminated in the neon lights and done up for him, but you really couldn’t wait for him to fuck you up.

You got to the venue early, making sure you could guarantee that you were front row, and prepared yourself to stand for a very long time. The looks that you were given from the groupies who walked to the VIP line made you roll your eyes. There was always those girls—the tall, stick-thin, bratty—and they always needed to make sure you saw them when they looked at you nastily. You just looked forward, and waited out the time until the doors opened.

When they did, you walked with a quick pace, not running, but definitely not walking. You made your way up to the front row, slightly to the right where Hobie plays—you knew because you saw his guitar propped up. You heard the sound of heels, giggled and snobby sounding voices around you. It was the girls from earlier. They were all around you, and you could hear their whispers. It didn’t get to you before, but god it was starting to get to you now. You tried your best to keep ignoring them when a tall blonde woman who didn’t look like the type to be at a punk-rock concert, leaned over and whispered something gut-wrenchingly rude in your ear before standing straight and chatting with her friends. You stood there, suddenly incredibly insecure and crushed. Your spirits were high before, but now? Now you just wanted to go home…to Hobie. That was when you remembered why you were here. You were here for Hobie.

When the lights came on, there’s a ruckus all around. The crowd squeezes together uncomfortably, the room growing loud and wild. The girls around you throw insults your way when you don’t move, holding onto the railing tight. The first song started, and you heard a flurry of yells from Hobies bandmates, and then Hobie. A chill raced down your spine like a rollercoaster down its tracks, and Hobie raced onto the stage. He looked amazing—A fishnet top with a leather vest over it, dark blue jeans held up by a spiked belt, as much silver jewelry as he could fit, and messy black eyeliner.

The song was going amazing, Hobies skilled fingers that you loved oh so much dancing across his guitar as beads of sweat formed on his forehead, his beautiful smile coming out for all to see. Nothing good lasts forever though as when you excitedly jumped with the crowd, the bitchy girl to your right started hurling insults at you. This time you didn’t take it so well. You started questioning her,

“What the fuck is your problem?”

“You, you fucking skank!” She yelled obnoxiously, “Can you fucking move?” She said with the most audacity you had ever seen in your life. Some of her friends laughed, some of them looked at you with a nasty stare, but you just shook your head,

“I payed for these tickets just like you. I’m just trying to enjoy the show, asshole.” You grunted, facing forward to catch the end of the song and ignoring her when she suddenly shoved you. You stumble for a moment, bumping into the fellow groupie bitches to your left only for them to grunt and get pissy. You turned around, ready to fuck her up when,

“You betta get your grimy hands of my girl.” Hobie spoke into his mic, voice deep and angry. He stared directly into the blonde girl’s soul, causing her to freeze and stare blankly at him, then dumbly point at herself like she wasn’t caught in the act,

“Yeah you, what the fuck do you think you were doin?” He laughs, “Get the hell out of my venue.” He suddenly deadpans, “C’mon, get.” He says, the whole crowd invested and booing the girls. They squeeze out of the crowd and get ushered out by security. You’re incredibly flustered as suddenly there’s a ton of eyes on you, everyone wanting to get a look at the lead guitarists girl.

“Take a peek at my girlfriend, people. Isn’t she lovely? God I can’t wait to tear that outfit off of her later!” Hobie gushes into the mic, his deep voice echoing in the venue. The whole crowd starts cheering and getting hype, the next song starting soon after. You knew you were in for one hell of a night.

—

“Can’t believe you actually came, you cheeky ting.” Hobie smiles as he kisses your neck, your back pressed against the deck of his boat. He had rushed you out of the venue earlier, cock already hard in his jeans and hands all over you,

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Hobie, I love to see you on stage.” You smile, thoughts caught up on what those girls said to you about your body earlier. You wonder if there will ever be a day where you feel confident in your skin without getting torn down by someone. You didn’t notice that you had started tearing up, but Hobie must have noticed because he grabbed your face, your eyes refocusing on him while he’s on top of you,

“Who the fuck were those girls?” He suddenly asks, his tone dead serious,

“Just some random groupies I think.” You say dismissing any conversation that might come up about what had gotten you in a fight with them, but sure enough,

“What caused that scene, love?” He questioned, head tilting and deep eyes analyzing your every move and facial expression—nothing gets past Hobie—especially not things like this,

“They…they made a couple comments about my weight.” You admit, trying to move past it as soon as possible.

“And that’s got you bothered?” He asks, already knowing the answer,

“No.”

“No?” Hobie asks, “I don’t buy that—you’ve got that distant look in your eyes doll. Do I need to remind you just how beautiful you are cause I have no problem doing that.” Hobie whispers, voice growing seductive and needy as he kisses your shoulder, his hands dipping down to cup your pussy. When you shudder and sigh, he chuckles, kissing you and suddenly flipping you both, you on top of him. Hobies strength never ceases to amaze you, and you’re even more amazed when he gently lifts you by your hips, sliding himself to be level with your cunt,

“Sit on my face baby, want your sweet pussy~” Hobie grunts, licking his lips and tearing your underwear off. You gasp and cry out when he pulls your hips down, eating you out like he’s gone mad. You rock your hips into his face, your clit bumping against his nose,

“…So pretty…so fucking good…and all mine…” Hobie grunts while he eats you out, his face buried between your legs and his eyes crazed. The warmth and wetness between your legs drives you crazy, panting and moaning as you thrust your hips against him. Hobies fingers grip your thighs, tongue fucking you while his nose rubs your clit. You feel your orgasm coming, and you can barely warn Hobie,

“I-I’m gonna…” You moan, your hands in his hair, looking down at him. Hobie just speed up his ministrations, hungry for you. When you cum, you shake and whimper, the sound of Hobie’s grunts and slurping overstimulating you almost instantly.

“Hobie~” You whine, writhing to get off of him when he finally gives in, gently helping you get positioned under him. He kisses you passionately, one finger under your chin. The kiss is full of love and passion, and Hobie kisses all the way down your body, whispering how much he loves the things about you that no one else has seen. How much he loves the things about your body that are truly unique, and the things about your body that you might not truly love. Hobie loves it all.

He undoes his belt, the sounds sending need straight to your core,

“I love you baby, y’know that?” He whispers,

“Yeah…I do.” You say, breathless,

“Let me show you, baby.” He groans, lining his tip up with your entrance and gently thrusting in. You wince at the size of his cock in you, and Hobie groans, his head dripping down beside you,

“You feelin’ good doll? Does that hurt?” He grunts out, his hands gripping the wood underneath you. The night is cold out on the water with you and Hobie all alone, and the feeling of him inside you is like heaven. You gasp out into the dark sky as Hobie fucks you, whimpering,

“Feels perfect, Hobie~”

His cock stretches your walls, his moans of how beautiful and pretty you are etched into your skin with each kiss. Your thighs shake and tremble and your head spins from all the praise, Hobie fucking you into the floor.

“You like that? Yeah? Good girl baby so good f’me just keep giving me those pretty moans baby” He moans, kissing you as he speeds up. He’s fucking you with reckless abandon, the boat even slightly shaking. He pulls away from the kiss panting wildly and throwing his head back as he thrusts into you. The noises that spill from your lips are animalistic, and your pussy squeezes around him,

“Hobie!” You whimper, your hands shaking on his back.

“Come on, cum for me luv.” He groans, kissing you deeply as you moan into his mouth. Your eyes widen and then roll into the back of your head, the sounds of both your skin slapping resonating around you. Hobie speeds up impossibly faster and you cum—seeing stars as you squirt all over him. Almost directly after, Hobie spills his cum deep inside you. You can feel the twitching of his cock and the warmth of his semen inside you. Tears spill out of your eye, Hobie breaking the kiss to wipe them away. His thumbs smoothing over your face. Hobie pulls out of you and scoop you up, bringing you to his bed and cleaning you up softly—the whole time whispering sweet praises to you and kissing every inch of your skin for the last time that night. Hobie cleans himself off, helps you into one of your sleep shirts that you left on the boat last time, and slips into bed behind you, holding you all through the night.

No one will ever tear down your self esteem with Hobie around. He was sure of it.

[hellfirecvnt]

Don't Piss me Off (Pt. 2)

John Q. (Simon) X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Smut, oral (female receiving), "public" sex, unprotected sex (don't do that), poor life choices.

Summary: You still can't stand sticking around your parents for too long, but you stay in town for a while longer just to see him play. PART ONE IS HERE!!

Notes: I love him. I'm gonna write a million versions of the same story I stg. I didn't proof read. I got like 6 ideas at once and they're all getting written at the same time.

In the basement of a warehouse you'd assume abandoned, Simon and his band consisting of a handful of less ill-tempered, but just as dirty and dead-looking men set up for their performance. They're all spitting insults at each other as they scramble to plug in each meticulous piece of shoddy equipment they've acquired.

Simon's preoccupied. Clearly stuck on the thought of you. He realized hours ago that he never told you about the show tonight. He's wrapping the wire of the mic around his fist when he overhears the stagehands. "I didn't make it to Y/N's last party, I figured there would at least be one more before she bolted."

"She went back home?" Simon interrupts.

"Yeah, man. She left today, I'm pretty sure." The stagehands hoist a large amp to its spot, leaving Simon in the silence of realizing you two have no way of contacting each other. That's it. He shrugs his shoulders, brushing off any disappointment, as he's used to things falling through. Nothing's special to someone like him, or that's what he tells himself. He reaches into his back pocket and reveals a pair of underwear that had gotten tangled with his clothes when you did his laundry. He chuckles at the thought of how he would've made you think he stole them on purpose. He stuffs them back into his pocket and gets ready to perform as people start piling in the small venue.

You're nearly flooring it back to that gas station. Once inside, you leap over the counter and snatch the poster from the wall. "God damn! You could've just asked for the fucking flyer, man!" The cashier exclaims, certain you were attempting to rob the store.

"I don't have time!" You yell behind you as you sprint out the door. "Old fuckin' Mill building? Where the fuck is that?" You mumble to yourself, frustrated. You read that Psyops isn't set to play for another 30 minutes, so you speed around town to every old and decrepit site you can find. Four failures before you find the warehouse hosting the show tonight. "Finally!" You slam the van in park before bolting to the door.

"It's $10 to get in," a nonchalant man at the door huffs. You shove the money into his hand and he opens the large, black, graffitied door behind him. You're not shy in a crowd, so when you hear the boisterous speakers blasting the sound of guitar riffs through the building, you start shoving. The vibration sends the decently sized crowd into a wave of cheers and you finally make your way toward the front. You can hear a voice over the speakers, Simon. It's hard to make out what he's saying, but once the song starts, the crowd starts moving.

You're being jostled around for most of the set. Song after song, you try to force yourself to the front, but to no avail. Finally, once Simon takes one step off the slightly raised platform on which they're performing, you can reach him. His grip is white-knuckled around the microphone, now's your chance. You lunge forward and wrap a hand around the mic, pulling yourself forward. Confused and annoyed by the sudden tugging, Simon pulls back, effectively breaking through the wall of people blocking you. The moment your eyes meet his, under his ski mask, he grins. In the moment bringing you before him, he'd missed a few bars of the song, but effortlessly picks back up once you're front and center.

It feels like his eyes are locked on you for the rest of their set. You hate to admit it, but it's a hell of a show. The energy of the crowd, their presence on stage. No wonder Simon feels so strongly about it. He's a different person when he's John Q. An alias you found out about when you were seniors, and you hoped staying quiet about it would've shown him you weren't the snitch, but instead it took a coke bender several, several years later. Plus, he wasn't much less of a loser than you were. Who fucking cared back then that he has a stage name?

After Psyops' set, you and Simon slip outside for a smoke. Riled up from the show, he's too abuzz to make sure his face matches the angry stare he usually wears. "Someone said you were headed home already, didn't think I'd see you at a show any time soon," he says, lighting a cigarette.

"Said I would," you echo his words from his promise to back you up next time you got yourself into an altercation. "Can't let fucking John Q. be more trustworthy than me." Simon laughs at the mention of his stage persona. "I like the mask, though."

"Oh, yeah? That do somethin' for you?" He teases, reaching into his pocket for the mask, but pulling out a different wad of fabric. "Oops," he laughs, dangling your panties in front of you.

"Is that my fuckin' underwear, you god damn pervert?" You curl your lip, put off by the invasive behavior.

"They might be yours, I don't know. I get a lot pussy." Simon smirks with his eyes darkened on you.

"Jesus Christ, what the fuck-" you're ready to lay into him, too violated to make any excuses despite how attractive he looks with messy hair and drying sweat.

"Calm the fuck down, they got mixed up with my shit when you washed my clothes at your house," he laughs. You roll your eyes and jump to grab them, but he's too quick. You miss the swipe and are now a great deal closer to him. "I'm gonna hold on to these," he says with a low voice as he scoops you against him with a hand placed on the small of your back. A second passes like an eternity and the two of you lock lips as he stuffs your underwear into his pocket again, allowing some of the silk and lace detail to hang out. As the kiss deepens, his hands move down your body, to your thighs before he grips your ass roughly. Soft moans escape against his lips as he gropes various parts of your curves.

"Do you know how worked up you get me?" He whispers between the press of your kiss. "Thought you left before I could get a taste." He reaches for your eyelet belt, but you stop him.

"Someone's gonna see us."

"Call it an encore," he mumbles before going back at your belt, but you swat him away again.

"At least take me around back, dumbass." You grab a fistful of his shirt and nearly drag him around the corner. It's dark and concealed from any passerby. He lifts you up onto a pad-mounted transformer and wraps your legs around him, still moving his head in sync with yours as each of your tongues explore each other's mouths.

"I guess I was kind of a prick to you back in the day, huh?" He whispers, running his hand through your hair.

"You were an angry piece of shit, yeah. We fuckin' or having a breakthrough?"

"Shut the fuck up for a second," he snaps. "I'm trying to apologize." He slips your denim shorts off your legs and all but falls to his knees in front of the large metal, green box you're sat on. His nimble index finger hooks around your thong and pulls it to the side. You barely have time to process what his "apology" will be before he plunges his head between your thighs. You fight to stifle a surprised moan as he conducts his skillful movements against your sensitive skin.

"Simon, oh, my God!" You whine, arching your back against the friction. He laughs against your skin sending waves of vibrations through your legs. One of his hands is occupied holding your panties to the side, the other is hooked around your hip, holding you securely in place as he meticulously works you over the edge.

"You want me to stop?" He asks, lips framed with drenched facial hair.

"No! No, I-" he cuts off your plea, resuming his position.

"Then stop fighting me," he snaps, harshly pinning you to the metal with the hand he had hooked on your hip. The stimulation quickly builds up, becoming too much, too quickly. You throw your head back and tangle a fist in his hair as he guides you through the high. Your legs shake and threaten to close around him, but his grip is too strong. You remain exactly where he wants you until you've ridden out your orgasm. You're slumped back on your elbows with your head down, breathing heavily as you return to reality.

Simon towers over you where you lay, staring down at you with his dark-circled eyes. You look up and watch him teasingly wipe his mouth, licking his lips like you're the first thing he's devoured in months. He slips your shorts halfway up your legs for you, leaving the rest of the work for whenever you can feel your legs again. "Um," you sigh. "Apology accepted."

"Tits."

"Is 'tits' good?" You furrow your eyebrows. He sighs, rolling his eyes and shaking his head.

"You're leaving tonight, huh?" Simon lights a cigarette.

"Well... That's the plan." You feel a pit in your stomach when you think about going back home. The place is nice, it's far away. It's what you wanted, but life is full and meaningless. You don't have friends out there, it didn't strike you how hard it'd be to meet people in your mid 20s.

"You don't sound so sure about that plan, Y/N." He exhales a cloud that illuminates under the street lamp's orange glow.

"It's boring out there, but it's quiet. It's peaceful. My parents aren't in my ear telling me trying something new could kill me." You shrug.

"That's why you're running? Because of your frigid bitch mom and dad?" Simon laughs as if it's the funniest thing he's ever heard.

"Okay, well. You know, maybe don't call them that or I'll lay you the fuck out, but yeah." You stand and fasten your shorts and belt, knees still threatening to buckle. "You had a hand in me leaving too."

"I know, I apologized!" He gestures to your trembling legs and you laugh.

"Yeah, yeah," you wave your hand at him. "Where'd you go? I was in town for weeks. I thought you were in the pin."

"I didn't want to overstay my welcome," he chuckles. "Or watch another fuckin' 80s movie with the volume on ten." He turns to look at you and he smirks.

"Well, my parents are in town now. I still have the rest of this week off. I was gonna spend it getting unpacked, but-"

"Fuck that. Let's go, you're driving." He walks off around the building toward the parking lot and you're dumbfounded for a moment.

"Of course I'm driving, it's my van!" You scramble after him. He hops in your passenger seat and you pull out of the lot, leaving his disgruntled band mates to pack up their own equipment. "You're not gonna help them?"

"What for? My shit's in the van. It's a microphone."

"Yeesh, sorry. Forgot you're actually kind of the worst when your head's not between my legs," you tease and Simon can't suppress a smile. As you cruise down the dark road, bright blue lights ignite in your mirrors. "Fuck. Get it the back." Simon wastes no time, he throws himself in the spacious rear area of the van as you pull over. You both wait anxiously for the cop to approach the window. Everything feels silent, until you finally hear the footsteps.

"I'm gonna run," Simon whispers, hand on the rear door latch.

"Don't." You demand sharply, rolling down your window for the cop. The air feels still and tight. It seems like it takes hours for the cop to speak, but when he does it's a routine traffic stop. He asks you if you knew how fast you were going and you innocently explain the floating nature of your speedometer. The officer laughs when he reads your ID and sees your last name.

"You're Frank's kid, right?"

"Yeah, his one and only." You beam, proudly. Happy to name drop your wealthy family.

"You just try to slow it down and tell your dad I said hello, alright?" The cop taps your door twice and sends you on your way. As you pull off, Simon peeks out from under the blankets and sighs with relief.

"Holy shit, with the way this thing looks, you should've been strip searched." Simon tosses himself back into the passenger seat.

"Don't shit-talk my van," you hiss. Simon proceeds to tell you where to go, each turn and shortcut, until you reach a large white house, almost as status defining as your parents'.

"My parents are out of town." He points to a concealed area to park and leads you to a basement door. He fights with a key for a moment before leading you inside. It's a messy basement room with red walls and posters from ceiling to floor. Instruments take up most of the space, aside from the bed.

"Do you avoid your parents like me, or do your parents avoid you?" You ask, bluntly, not considering the weight of that question.

"Both, I guess." He says after a long pause.

"You... Wanna smoke?" You ask, unsure how to navigate the silence.

"Can't. Fucks with my motivation," he grins. You shrug, rolling and smoking a joint by yourself while Simon works on some songs. He's got an ear for every instrument in his room, and he layers them over each other, creating complex instrumentals. It's nice to listen to while you lie on his bed and watch the swirling tendrils of smoke twist into the light and air above you.

"It sounds nice," you hum, settling into the cozy divot in the center of his mattress-on-the-floor.

"Write something for it," he commands, tossing a notepad and pen at you.

"Like lyrics? Why?" You stare at the blank page, unable to read the layers and layers of writing indented into it from Simon's heavy, angry hand.

"You need an out, I'm giving you one." He leans back in the rolling chair he resides in, staring me down like a hawk.

"I don't think I'm a very musical person. I think I'm more of a doodler, really," you argue, scribbling in the corner of the paper.

"Just fuckin' write something down and stop being a pussy." He snatches the pen from you and tosses it onto the pad.

"Bitch- How does that make me a pussy?" Your eyes narrow at him.

"It'd be too vulnerable. You're no tougher than that kid you were in high school. It's all fake now." It's clear he's taunting you. Making a fair attempt at reverse psychology.

"Fuck you, give me a minute," you huff, writing a line or two to start with. "Play your shit again." And he does. Restarting the instrumental he put together just for you. After a while, you've written something and you sling the notepad at Simon. He takes a moment to read through it a few times, almost trying to decode the melody of how I'd sang it in my head.

"Perfect. Now sing it." He nods toward his microphone stand.

"Fuck's sake, dude. Are you serious?" You whine, pushed further and further out of your comfort zone.

"Come on, let's see what you got," he says in a tone that lets me know I've already lost the argument.

"It doesn't feel good to be vulnerable to you."

"Tough it out." You roll your eyes at his demand, but you do it. You tough it out and recite your song over the music he provided. He hits 'restart,' and then 'record,' and then he points to you. After a measure you begin to sing. Low effort, but still angelic. Your song is about the feeling of being homesick no matter where you end up. It's about running and putting up a face as a defense mechanism. It's about wearing a mask.

When you're done singing and the music fades out, Simon slides the headphones off his ears. "That... Was tits." He looks elated. Like a poor painter with a new pallet.

"Is 'tits' good?" You ask again, emphasizing the lack of answer last time you asked.

"Yeah, 'tits' is good." He grins. "That was good."

"Fuck you. Who's not vulnerable?" You curl your lip, clearly more moved by the challenge than the release he was offering. Simon just shakes his head.

"Let's mix it." He beelines for the computer and begins fine tuning the song. You're watching in awe of his quick skill at this craft. As if watching him play all those instruments wasn't impressive enough. The night grows older. Simon offers you your favorite party favor, but you're over it. So the two of you share a joint.

"You don't ever get tired of living in a circle?" You ask through a cloud of smoke.

"A fuckin' circle?" He looks at you.

"Just, still in this town, still avoiding your parents, still making music alone in your room."

"Fuck," he huffs, offended but acknowledging the truth in your words. "Do you ever get tired of running from it?"

"Touché." You bring the joint to your lips as you lie in his disheveled bed. His arm snaked around you ages ago, slowly pulling you closer and closer to him. Like he's worried you'll float away.

"If our only two options are run away or get sucked into this shit hole of a town, I think we're a little fucked, don't you?" He chuckles to himself.

"Maybe those aren't the only options. We just don't have all the answers yet. I don't think anyone does." Your voice is wistful and quiet. You can feel Simon's eyes on you, but you stare at his dark ceiling. He rolls his eyes at your corny words, but he knows you're right. "It's funny, because if I could run from the uncertainty too, I would." You giggle, aware of your vices and poor coping skills.

"Yeah, you would," Simon mocks.

"And you? You're just going to live with it? Sit right beside the discomfort and accept that for yourself? Have you ever tried to give yourself more, even if it meant running?" You're slowly building up a sense of passion behind your words and Simon just listens, staring deeply into your eyes as you speak. Suddenly, you're cut off when he wraps a hand around the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. His lips crash into yours and the two of you melt into each other.

You can't even remember what you were saying, you just know you don't want to stop touching him. The heat of the kiss begins to swell as Simon's hands trail up and down your body. He's grabbing at you in a specific order, like he's been waiting to get his hands on it. Really get his hands on it. You grasp at the hem of his shirt, tugging in semblance to take it the fuck off, and he does.

His broad, pale chest rises and falls with anticipation as you strip off the same article of clothing. "Jesus Christ," he moans, pulling you to him to shove his face directly between your breasts. He breathes deeply, taking you in. With one swift motion, he's hoisted you on top of him, your legs straddling his waist. Simon unfastens the button on your jeans before tossing you to the side to undress you.

You're both naked and greatly anticipating the next moment your skin will touch. Seconds feel like hours until you're pressed against each other again. Simon buries his face in the crook of your neck as he guides his throbbing erection to your entrance. You're squirming and arching beneath him, and he releases a breathy laugh as he watches you writhe. "You're aching for it," he groans.

"Fuck you," you hiss, pulling him closer to you by his shoulders. All he does is chuckle before slowly slipping inside you. You moan loudly as you adjust to his size. Something about a lanky, dead-eyed man. His pace is steady as he rocks his hips against yours, picking up speed as you gush around him. Soon his thrusts are hard and rough, and your loud, vulgar moans echo off his bedroom walls.

"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he huffs, pulling out of you and tossing you aside. Simon quickly repositions you in front of him, on all fours. You let your back arch naturally, putting on a bit of a show for him as he watches you. His eyes are darkened and his smirk sends chills down your spine. You can't help but smile wide in excitement. With two round hands, he grabs your waist and positions you at the perfect height. His hands wander the soft flesh of your ass as you press up against him. "You drive me fucking crazy..." He sighs as he slips inside you.

Simon digs the tips of his fingers into your skin, pulling you against him with every violent thrust. You do everything you can to contort your body to give him more of you. He throws his head back, falling into a sloppy, unsteady pace. His breathing is wild and primal all the way up until the point of climax. You release a loud, fluttering moan as he fucks you through your high, quickly withdrawing to finish on your back and ass. You're both breathless for a while, the room is silent but for the sound of your lungs filling and deflating.

Simon climbs off the bed, but you're too fucked out to even raise your head up to watch where he's going. Moments later, he returns, towel in hand. He cleans you up and lands a hard smack on your right ass cheek. The sound is thunderous against the silence. You yelp and break into quiet chuckles.

Finally, you have the strength to roll over. You sit up against the mess of pillows that became a sort of headboard for his bed, feeling beautiful and bare before him. It's a nice feeling that you're not used to. Sure you've had your flings, but it's never occurred to you how quickly you tend to leave or cover up after. Not this time. You're both fully exposed and Simon's eyes drink you in, one last time before he speaks. "Don't go back." You stare at him for a long while, silent.

"I won't," you gasp, surprised by your own promise. As soon as the words leave your mouth, his lips are on yours. In the next few days, you quit your job and Simon rides with you to go back and get the most important of your shit. The rest goes with the trailer when you sell it. You don't run a single thing past your parents and you don't tell them you're coming back to town. It's a new sense of peace and adventure, though it feels like abandoning your old life.

After a month of van living, you and Simon get an apartment and constantly receive complaints about the noise, but nothing stops the music overflowing from your floor of the building. A new sense of bliss. It's comfortable now.

[angel-of-the-moons]

Khonshu Pregnant S/O Headcanons

Khonshu x Fem!Reader

TW/CW: SFW and NSFW Headcanons. Fluff, Pregnancy kink, lactation kink, fingering, size difference, might be some mythological inaccuracies because I can't remember if he fathered and other gods etc

MINORS DNI I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR CONTENT YOU CONSUME

A/N: Had an iffy day today and this just popped into my head. Have fun alshlsh

SFW:

He isn't associated with fertility for nothing. When you forget to take your birth control (as of that'd work against a god's seed anyway) and you two overindulge in one another on the peak of a crescent moon, a child was inevitable.

Protectiveness amped up to 100000%, the old man will follow you around even during the day.

Also low-key jealous. You have that beautiful glow about you, especially in the early days of your pregnancy. When the light hits you, it's as if the world around you stops to admire you.

And.... so do other men. Your breasts swelling, your figure becomes alluring to them. Perhaps an effect of the divine child growing within your womb? Either way he isn't above knocking shit off grocery store shelves and hurling them at the men who try to flirt with you.

When he feels the fools aren't getting the message... Khonshu will don his lesser-seen human form.

A hand on your back, a cold glare, and a subtle "Love" tends to intimidate them. Even if he may not look to threatening in just a plain white suit.

Finds any excuse to touch your belly. Whether you're one week into your pregnancy or well into your second trimester, he will touch your baby.

The life inside of you is precious, as this would be his firstborn. One he never thought he would attain.

Always reaches the top shelf for you, will not let you climb a step ladder, even if it is just one or two steps. Can't risk a fall.

Will run you nice baths with oils and incense to help you relax; washes your body with the most gentle touch many would assume he didn't have.

Lets you curl up in his lap to sleep, especially if your back hurts and you need to sleep sitting up.

Will massage you as best he can as your pregnancy progresses, will totally rub your swollen ankles as well.

Did I mention his big ass hands?

The old bird can and will lift your belly up to ease the strain off of you, and hold it as long as you are comfortable.

The best way, you've noticed, to get him to stop lecturing Marc, Steven and Jake is to gasp loudly, acting as if the baby has kicked you too roughly.

You wink at the boys and silently urge them to flee while Khonshu is distracted with checking your belly out for any anomalies.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT:

With pregnancy, comes changes to your body that he both anticipated and... not. This includes your raging hormones and how needy you became when they raged within you.

Is definitely down to have sex with you. However, he will not risk it in his godly form, so if you want him inside of you, he would don his human one instead and take you that way.

When he isn't in his human form, his hands will do nicely, they fill you and stretch you wonderfully and make you ache in the most pleasurable ways.

Massages the hell out of your breasts. A little too much, you'd argue, but the ease of the ache in them is too much to ignore.

And once your milk starts flowing, the man will want a taste of you. In every. Sense. Of. The word.

Him latching on to drink from you is far more relieving than him simply massaging you.

"It will help you grow accustomed to the feeling when you feed our child." He tells you.

Yeah right. Bullshit, especially with how he will either fuck you or curl and thrust his fingers inside of you as he does this.

He rarely finishes inside of you when you're pregnant. He almost always prefers to finish on your belly, as if to mark you.

As if carrying his child and the bruises he leaves on your hips didn't mark you enough already...

Cradles your belly when you are laying on your side and he is thrusting lazily into you from behind, whispering sinful words of praise into your ear until he has you coming undone with the most lurid of cries.

He won't admit it, but he does like to take you from behind while you are pregnant, his hand smoothing up the curve of your spine.

Definitely prefers it if you are on your back, looking up at him so he can admire your face and changing body.

Another thing... he loves it when you ride or grind on him. He will guide you with his hands, making sure you aren't going too fast or rough, he will roll his hips to meet you as gently as possible.

But this position in particular he likes because it allows him to touch you because he doesn't need to constantly hold you to ensure comfort.

His hands will roam you; your face, your chest, your belly, your hips; he will even stimulate your clit for you to make you cum faster, because he loves watching how your eyes roll back and the pleasure overtakes your face.

Oh... And you're crazy if you think he wants to stop at one. Even if it pisses off the other gods; your body is too delicious a temptation to resist filling with his seed again and again.

[nekokoaa]

The Agreement - Miguel O'Hara x Therapist!Reader (II)

Summary: It was simple. No kissing. No sex. Hugs and hand-holding only. The goal was to help Miguel feel a little less lonely sometimes. That was your job as one of the therapists at HQ, to mentally stabilize everyone’s mind, including the boss’s.

In other words, you and Miguel make a deal.

Rated Explicit, fluff, smut

3.1K words | (2/5) chapters

Chapters:

(I) (II) (III) (IV) (V)

Author's notes: Good news, this fic has been extended to 5 chapters! 6 if I decide to do a chapter in Miguel's POV. We'll see! Also I think some people reached out to me about a tag list! Definitely comment on this post if you want to be added :)

Also on AO3

II.

The first session was the staple of this agreement for a while. To the point where it felt like you were disturbing Miguel when you would appear after his missions. You thought it was when he needed you the most. With the job comes the stress—the anxiety. Every spider-person knew that whether you were one month in or had years on the job. You all knew there was only one person who could protect the people and it was a cesspool of pressure all spider-people were carrying. 

Including Miguel.

So you would visit him after his missions with the intention of closing that cesspool. And every time, he would greet you with that scowl on his face. It would be there from the beginning to the moment you're sliding your hand over his, innocently, gently. A touch he hasn’t felt in God knows how long. A touch he ignored he needed, but never complained about.

In the first few sessions, little was said between you two. Mostly talked about mission statuses and the mental health of the spider-people. Within time, the topics expanded to your universes and your homes. Nueva York being his. New York was yours. And later, by the end of every session, you were discovering layers of Miguel most didn’t know about.

It left you curious to the point where you looked forward to his sessions every week. You tried not to cross any boundaries—but you ended up sharing more about yourself with him than other spider-people. Usually, you were the one listening and advising.

“Cat got your tongue, has it?” It wasn’t the sound of Hobie’s voice that pulled you from your thoughts but the light strum of his guitar, the normally loud instrument’s sound was weakened without an amp. As always, he lounged on your office couch, feet kicked up on the armrest with his guitar on his lap. 

“Not necessarily,” you responded, feeling embarrassed that you had spaced out when he was talking. Noticing, Hobie smirked. He loved it when things seemed awry.

“I seen it all. Little Miss Perfect in her head. Maybe I should be the doc and you’re the patient, yeah?”

“Maybe we should start having these sessions during the day. You do know it’s 1 AM.” Late sessions with Hobie felt more like you were hanging out with a friend. A waste of time but much-needed company.

“So?” Hobie shrugged, a melody was released from the strings. “Night is when the fun happens, mate.”

And Hobie was right. Your sessions with Miguel were always late in the night when most spider-people returned to their universes. Miguel would still be working, red eyes on those orange screens. You would be next to him, close to where you could feel each other’s heat. Sometimes presence was just enough. During these sessions, the clock’s minute hand would move a little too fast. An hour went by like a minute and then you would overstay. You didn’t know what to call those moments after. It was better to not give them a name.

You would leave and return with two coffees. Miguel would thank you, pulling away from his work and then you would chat till the night aged. The night never expired without hearing one of Miguel’s witty but rude comments.

And when you would give him a smile and your hand went on his bicep, it meant you were leaving.

It meant the fun was over.

Yeah, Hobie was definitely right. You were way too much in your head. Even now as the clocks strike 10 PM as you waited for Miguel in his office. Tonight wasn’t a session, but you wanted to check in to see how he was doing. That was normal, right? Checking in? Not like you did it to anyone else but it was still normal in your mind.

It was better than returning to your universe—to your empty white-walled apartment. There were memories buried within that place that you would like to forget.

First came the tremors, and then the tiny hairs on your skin erected. The pen you were holding slipped from your fingers, levitating above you. Gravity no longer existed for small objects and the air became dry but moist at the same time. It was like logic itself was confused as reality was torn open by a yellow portal and who emerged from it was, of course, Miguel fully covered in his spider suit. The sight so familiar, you had thought back to when you were first recruited by the Spider Society. 

Imprisoned by the white walls of your apartment, you felt that same energy shift and that yellow portal appeared in your room like a stain. But to you, it was a hexagonal halo around Miguel who emerged from it, reaching into your universe, saying the words, “doc, we need your help.”

Life was never dull after that.

“Do I look like a blue panther to you?” Miguel approached you with his arms out. You hummed, turning your head sideways as your eyes trace over Miguel’s figure. The yellow portal closed behind him, and soon reality had returned to its natural state. You could feel Miguel getting annoyed the longer it took for you to answer. His hands went on his hips, eyes narrowing.

“Wellll….”

“Ugh, give me a break,” he brushed past you as you laughed. You followed him, grabbing hold of his arm to stop him from walking away.

“I’m kidding! Kidding!”

“ Ha ha ,” he scoffed, shrugging his arm out of your grasp. Like a red laser, his webs shot out from his wrist and he lifted himself onto his floating platform. Even after his missions, he still dived back into work. “Lyla, create a new recruit profile for Gwen Stacy, Spider-Woman from Earth-65.”

“Earth-65?” You webbed yourself after him, peeking from behind his back to look at the orange-screened monitors. “I thought that was one of the universes we’re not recruiting.”

“Jess wanted her to join. She helped us capture Vulture and… I guess she did a pretty good job at it.” Miguel pulled up a hologram of the security camera in the Villains Cell Block. Jess was processing the captured Vulture to send him home in the next line up and next to her was a teenager with blond hair, the ends of it dyed soft pink. You assumed that was Gwen as Miguel zoomed in on her face.

It was rare to impress Miguel so much that he was willing to bend his own rules. Gwen Stacy from 65 was friends with the anomaly. “Cool, then I’ll schedule a session with her. Can’t wait to meet her.”

“What are you even doing here anyway?” Miguel asked, giving you a side-eye glance as he swiped the hologram away. A few more popped up about the last mission he was on and a couple more he had to do in the future. “We did our session this week.”

“Aah,” you had rehearsed your reason several times before arriving in his office and your mind still came up blank. “Just… checking in.”

You could tell he raised his eyebrow behind his mask, “Checking in?”

“Uh yeah, isn’t that normal?” You so wanted to bury yourself underground.

“Then you must have a lot of free time on your hands, doc.” Miguel shook his head, not bothering to inquire more. Not like he had any time to. His mask disintegrated and he shifted his focus to his work. You would’ve left him alone at that point because Miguel didn’t like to be disturbed once he got started until you noticed something off about his face.

“What happened to your lip?” You asked, noticing the dried blotch of blood on the corner of his bottom lip. It even looked a bit swollen.

He let out something like a sigh, a groan, or something in between before speaking quickly. “I don’t know probably happened in the fight or something—Lyla!”

“You should treat it. It could get worse, maybe even infected.” Your fingers grazed his jaw, tilting his head slightly up while tiptoeing to examine the cut. Perhaps, it was because of these sessions that you have gotten so used to touching Miguel. Before, you would’ve earned a warning scratch on your hand by now so something had changed in him as well.

“Infected?” Miguel let out a condescending laugh, his fangs making an appearance. His brown eyes deepened into red as they looked you down. It was almost as if he was mocking you. “Don’t you know who you’re talking to?”

“Does it matter? We’re still human, aren’t we?” It was a question you received so often from your patients that you suddenly found yourself asking that exact same thing. You had yet to find an answer that made sense. Yes, you’re human. No, you’re not. Maybe it was easier to not create a binary answer and to just go with what you believed in. At least that’s what you told your patients when they sat on your office couch. They seemed to have accepted that answer.

Miguel, however, felt different. He turned to face you, his large hand encircling your wrist as he pulled your hand away from his face. He stepped forward with a slight sway, and that was when you realized the size difference between you two. He might as well have been a skyscraper, casting a shadow over your figure and shielding you from the orange glow of the screens. His head was tilted up but his eyes—damn, his eyes barreled down on you, locked on like a sniper scope. It was predatory. And you had never felt so small before in your life. 

“More than,” he answered lowly, releasing your hand from his grip and then he returned to his work.

You stood there, holding your wrist which was hot to the touch as your heart boomed against your ear drums. There was a dull ache in your head and shivers ran up your spine. It could only mean one thing. Your spidey senses were alerted. It happened a couple of times when Miguel would get this way. But he never hurt you. He would never. So why was every fiber of your being telling you to run from him?

You swallowed air, anything to get yourself to calm down. Hesitating, you glanced at Miguel who had buried himself in his work, seeming to have forgotten you were in the room. 

More than human. You had never thought of yourself more superior to the people you were saving. Maybe it was because you used to believe you were the only one with powers in your entire universe. It was easier to think of yourself as an unfortunate freak burdened with the duty of justice. But when you walk the halls of HQ, surrounded by like-minded spider-people in staggering numbers, you could understand Miguel’s point of view. All of you were strong, intellectually smart, and capable of doing extraordinary things that are beyond the capabilities of humans. And then you have Mayday who was born with these abilities. 

You knew the dangers that could come with having a superiority complex. Even then, Miguel was someone you couldn’t exactly leave alone no matter what he thought or how often he pushed you away. It wasn’t something you could explain. Did a moth ever question why it was attracted to the light, beautiful but deadly to its soul? All you knew was that it was better than being alone wandering aimlessly in the dark.

You left and returned with a medkit in your hands. A tap on Miguel’s shoulder earned quiet mumbles from him, claiming he was going insane for being interrupted before he looked at you, brown eyes flicking between the medkit and your face. 

You were as stubborn as he was and he knew you wouldn’t get off his back unless you got what you wanted. So, with a sigh, Miguel followed you off the platform to a large metal block you urged him to sit on.

You opened the medkit, pulling out the items you needed to treat his wound. Miguel stayed quiet. You could feel his eyes on your face, looking over every part of you. It was hard to ignore it considering how piercing his stare could get like he was trying to uncover the deepest parts of your soul.

“God, I feel like I’m always giving in to you,” he spitted out, hissing when you pressed a moist rag to his lip a little too hard.

“Good.”

“Just means you’re always in my way.”

“Still a good thing.”

He rolled his eyes and then they went right back on you. You were so focused on cleaning the blood off his lip that you didn’t notice how close you got to his face.

“You know, puedes sentarte .” You were startled to hear another language in your ear. More or less, you understood him, moving to sit next to him until you felt Miguel’s hand on your hip stopping you mid-motion to guide you on top of his lap. “Better.” 

You let out a less than graceful squeak, cheeks flushing, “O-Okay.” You were taken aback but then you remembered the agreement. As long as there was no kissing, no sex, then this was fine, right?

You continued to tend to Miguel’s cut, ignoring your steadily rising heart rate, but you were also admiring Miguel’s face. His high cheekbones, sharp jaw, and loose curly hair were perfectly combed back. He was definitely a handsome man and he had the most perfect body. You have never seen such wide shoulders in your life.

“You’re like a mother—sort of.”

“What the fuck,” you frowned. It wasn’t something you wanted to hear while sitting on this man’s lap especially when you were internally praising him.

“There was a time when I came home from school with my lip busted after beating up this bully and my mom did what you’re doing.” It was slight but Miguel’s expression softened. He was looking at you but you could tell the warmth in his eyes was from recalling an old memory. It was the first time he brought up his family, and you couldn’t help but smile at him.

“You were a troublesome kid, weren’t you?” You joked, placing a small bandage over his cut.

“My dad thought I was too, probably why he busted the other side of my lip after.”

You stiffened, smile immediately dropping. You weren’t foreign to domestic violence stories from your patients back in your universe. It was a sensitive topic, but knowing Miguel, he didn’t want to be coddled about it.

“Sorry,” your fingers brushed the other side of his lip. There was no cut there but you could imagine the pain he went through when his father struck him. “Your dad sounds like an asshole.”

“He was.”

“I… wanted to be one, a mother,” you admitted. “When I got married to Harry, I couldn’t wait to start a family. I wanted a little girl like Mayday, cute with the fattest cheeks. But I only had a 5% chance of conceiving, my doctor told me it was nearly impossible, and when Harry found out… Well, he divorced me. Something about my inability to continue the Osborn family line...”

You spoke without looking at him. You were still ashamed of the reason for your divorce. Harry made it feel like you were a failure of a woman. He was a misogynistic asshole that only viewed women as a means to continue his family line. You wondered what spell he cast on you to make you fall in love with him because looking back, he never seriously cared about you as a person.

It took you a year and a half to recover from the hurt. The white walls of your apartment would remind you of every argument you had with him, of when he berated you, of when he made you feel less than. You spiraled into a hole you never wanted to be in again.

Little Miss Perfect. Gosh, you were far from it.

You noticed Miguel’s hand was stroking your thigh. He looked… sad. He probably understood you the most when it came to wanting a family.

“It’s a canon event for some, you know. A spider-person must go through a breakup… But after, we always find love, right?” You shrugged, smiling softly after.

“He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” It was rare to hear Miguel sound soft, his voice lower than you ever heard it before. His large hand never stopped treading along your thigh to your hips and then back down again. Slow and agonizing, mapping out your shape. You wondered when you got so close to him, both hands resting on his strong shoulders, chests nearly together. You were slowly gravitating towards him—to the heat of his lips. Those red eyes were normally deadly but now it was with something else, flicking between your lips and eyes. Want, desire, and everything in between.

Surely, you didn’t know what to call this moment. It was better to not give it a name. It was better to just give in because it’s been so so long since you’ve been touched. Didn’t you deserve it? Didn’t he? The hand upon your thigh felt hot, you could feel it through your spidey suit. How glorious would it be if it was upon your bare skin?

Your head was too noisy. Your morals screaming. No kissing! No sex! He’s your patient! Any excuse you thought of appeared, making you resist.

It was too much. You lowered your head before Miguel could lean in any further. His lips were so close that his hot breath was brushing your cheek in waves. You couldn’t bear it so you slightly pushed against his chest to create some space. “I… have to go.”

You managed to say, moving to stand but you felt resistance from his hand on your hip as it held you in place. You and Miguel shared a look. For once, he wanted you to stay.

But you weren’t going to be held back by that look in his eyes.

“Good night, Miguel…” With a flick of your wrist, a string of webs shot out towards the ceiling and you quickly slipped yourself out of Miguel’s hold and out of his office. 

Miguel remained still for a moment, almost like he was frozen in time. But once it settled with him that you left, his hand that was on your hip closed so tight into a fist, it began to tremble. A heavy sigh passed through his lips while his other hand moved to pinch the bridge of his nose. He just needed a moment. 

Just a moment to realize not everything he holds in his arms disappears from his life for good.

Within time, he spoke.

“Lyla.”

Lyla generated next to him, floating by his head. “Yeah, Miguel?”

“Did you finish creating the profile?”

“One, you didn’t say please. Two, I didn’t want to interrupt,” grinned Lyla.

Miguel groaned until his back met with metal and draped an arm over his eyes. “Do I look like I’m in the mood for jokes?”

“When are you ever?” Lyla was expecting Miguel’s usual quips to her antics, but when she received nothing but silence from him, she frowned and gave in to his request. “Fiiiine, profile was done ages ago but I wasn’t joking when I said I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Next Chapter

[bisexual-horror-fan]

"Not What I Planned." Rusty Nail X AFAB! Reader.

Well hello! It is the amazing and fantastic @eggsandbeer birthday so, so soon! But I am meeting Matt and Skeet tomorrow and my brain is gonna be all on Billy and Stu post that, so you get this now! This is my first time writing Rusty, I watched Joy Ride 2 six times while writing this. I love Riri, she is so fucking awesome and I adored doing this. She has a more personalized version but gave the go ahead to post a reader insert version for you all! So let's go!

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Rating. Explicit. Length. 7.7K (I Know.) Rusty Nail X AFAB! Reader. She/Her Pronouns. Warnings: Customer Service Work. Asshole Customers. Murder Mentioned. Drinking. Making Out. Man Handling. Fingering. Masturbation. Blow Job. Cum Eating. Vaginal Sex. Riding. Taunting. Teasing. Dirty Talk. Praise. Pet Names.

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You hate your job, it is exhausting, mentally and physically, a total drain, but you do all you can to not let it get you down. You focus on the little things, good customer interactions, great coworkers and the times you are truly able to get away from your work. It isn’t like it’s what you wanted to do for the rest of your life anyway, far from it, in fact one of those vital lifelines that helps keep you sane is a local news internship, it gives you some good experience for what you hope to actually eventually do with your life along with giving you purpose. 

Today is not good, though, off to a less than ideal start. This is decidedly not the way you wanted to spend your birthday. Rolling into the grocery store to do a closing shift, apron in your grip and bag over your shoulder, half-hearted waves to co-workers as you strolled through towards the area you could safely stow away your stuff until you are allowed to clock out. You do just that, drop your stuff in the usual place, get your uniform situated and punch in, ready for another day of God knows what bullshit. 

Your mind was at least slightly occupied, where you work is en route to the Burning Man festival which meant that you were busy as fuck with people loading up on supplies before they arrive to their final destination, it kept you busy. As for what kept your brain whirring, your internship had tasked you with writing a piece on the crowd that is rolling through on their way, meaning you are watching and listening intently. It looks like you aren’t from the outside, hands stacking a fruit display, but ears open, all sorts of talk about events the Burners were amped up for, how much further they had to travel, what snacks were the best and would keep in the desert heat. 

You did some actual work naturally, finding yourself crouched and cleaning out a stubborn drain, the process thoroughly annoying and honestly degrading, and not in the fun way you usually liked. It was your fucking birthday, for Christ’s sake, you should be indulging in the fun kind of calve burning, not the bent over and unclogging kind. Still, you try to stay in higher spirits and certainly not show it outwardly, if someone squinted hard enough, they might be able to pick up on it. 

Later on, you had just finished making a new display, standing back and looking at the gorgeous display of apples you’d spent longer than you cared to mention on, hands on your hips. The first genuine smile that had graced your face since clocking in and wasn’t tinged with a single hint of perfectly practised customer service fakeness. This is one of those moments you felt genuine pride in your work, a glimmer of nicety in all the bullshit. 

It lasted for two whole seconds.

A customer’s cart hits you in the hip and wrist simultaneously because of how you were standing, the action both painful and shocking, completely unexpected. It makes you step to the side, grip your wrist with your other hand, the pain is throbbing and dull, it isn’t the worst thing you’ve ever experienced, but it still sucks and should have never happened in the first place. The customer doesn’t apologize. Worse still, they stride forward, pick a single apple from the middle of the display, causing half of it to tumble over. The customer scoffs with a roll of their eyes, they drop the apple into their cart to look around, seeming to notice you just now for the first time, only then acknowledging you. They give a pointed look from you to over their shoulder, a motion of their head as they criticized your work, “Not very sturdy.” 

Your mouth falls open, and they tut as they walk away, leaving you dumbfounded with fifteen some odd apples scattered on the ground that you had to clean up and a display you had to rebuild. 

Later still, you are sweeping, trying to get these damn onion skins up, but they aren’t moving. You are half focused, conversing with one of the Burners, they are asking for your opinion on what kombucha is best, and you are humouring them and getting a few questions answered along the way. 

Throughout all the regular work crap, you’d been having small conversations with people, writing brief notes for your project, and it was nice getting some serious stuff down about it, served as a half decent distraction too. 

His initial thought is that it was reminiscent of a zoo, upon greater thought while attempting to park the Peterbilt he decided swiftly that it was worse than that, a fucking circus. He manages to park and decides that getting in and out as fast as possible would be vital to maintaining his sanity. He was aware that Burning man was happening, naturally, but still the place was crowded as all Hell, more than he had been anticipating. Rusty didn’t like large crowds of people, but he needs some supplies, he needs to eat. 

It isn’t any better inside. 

He is making his way around, hat pulled low, basket in his grip, grabbing a few drinks, some favoured snacks that he knew kept well, he was passing by the produce, almost ready to get the fuck out. He goes into your department, he is grabbing bananas and thinking about getting some of those pre-cut carrot and celery sticks. Rusty is trying to be a tad more health minded, not like it would do much with how much he enjoys a good smoke but better to do something than nothing he supposed. 

His train of thought is broken when he hears a loud exclamation of, “I can’t believe how fucking stupid you are!”

Rusty’s head turns, he catches sight of you, standing there, trying to look apologetic as some older lady is verbally ripping into you, “I’m making lemon chicken LEEK stroganoff, right?”

She is looking at you expectantly, your eyes wide, and with that half customer service forced smile you nod and say through gritted teeth, “Right.” 

“So tell me, how. Am I. Supposed. To make. Lemon, chicken LEEK stroganoff without LEEKS?” The way she said it was infuriating, the halting, pausing way of it, so condensing, as if you were the cross between an idiot and a child all rolled into one. 

“I don’t know, ma’am. I guess you can’t. I’m very sorry.” You admit it reluctantly, knowing she won’t like your response, and she does not. She goes off on you, “Well I’ve had this menu planned for WEEKS, I have company coming tonight! You have to make this right!” 

Rusty was listening in, brow pinching, this woman was off her rocker, what a complete bitch. You were trying to calm her, smooth over the situation, and she was being worse and worse to you. No matter what you say, she wouldn’t stop freaking out. 

“I really am very sorry. I could call another store nearby and ask if they have any leeks?” You offer up, and she scoffed with a laugh, “So I can make ANOTHER stop? Do you not remember? I am hosting a dinner party tonight, I’m busy! I have other places to go, I can’t be here fighting with you over this all night!”

And yet she was still here, doing just that. 

He had turned, wasn’t watching quite as subtly as he was previous. You were doing your best and none of it was measuring up to this crazy, impossible standard that was being set out. He was looking at you, and he could see that you were taking it hard, your customer service face and voice were holding strong, but your eyes? They looked so sad. 

You reminded him of a kicked puppy, as the woman finally had enough of being a raging cunt and stormed off. Right after that, someone else in uniform walked by, a manager? And on their way, they said, “Happy birthday.”

You gave a small, “Thanks.” along with half a wave as they strode past. You were not only working on, but getting treated like that, on your birthday? 

It got to him, hit him square in the chest, shot to the heart. A sigh and he looks over, he makes a note of the asshole who mistreated you so, he has a little time before they check out before he can go dispose of them in the parking lot for being so unreasonable and rude to you. It might be too far for some people but not for him, people like that, there is no changing them, not at her age, some people don’t deserve to live. 

First things, first though, he saunters over to you, a small clearing of his throat before he asks, “Got a date tonight, there a drink you’d recommend?” 

You turn towards the low and smooth voice, you have to turn your head up to look at him properly, he was taller than you. The way he was standing, the angle, and how he wore his hat you couldn’t see his face, brim pulled too low, standing a few feet away.

A small inhale and your smile turned more genuine before you reply, “Oh, our Pink Champagne is my favourite. I get that on special occasions.” 

Well, how fucking perfect a find were you? Kind, respectful, hardworking, and you have good taste. 

“Thank you.” He said it easily with a wave of his hand in acknowledgement and broke away. You watch him go and think to yourself that he is cute, in that particular way that strikes you when an older guy catches your eye just so. The interaction doesn’t stick with you however, you turned and saw more fucking onion skins that needed sweeping up.

Hours later, you finally get off of work, messed up apron in one hand and looking forward to getting the hell home. You had two days off ahead, you were intent on a bath and partaking in some drinks in your fridge with a good record on when you get home. You are walking through the dark and now very empty parking lot, your mind only focused on reaching your car, sliding behind the wheel and getting home as soon as possible, when you hear a voice calling out. Your car keys are in one hand, the keys between your fingers, sticking out and ready to punch a would be attacking if you need to. 

Hearing the voice makes you put your head on a swivel, initially scared, you look and then see it is that older gentlemen you helped out earlier. You pause, and he comes a little closer, again in the dark and with that hat you can’t make out much except for the orange glow of the end of his cigarette, partially illuminating the lower half of his face. He calls out your name, following it with a question of, "-right?” 

“Hi, yeah it is.” You were still sightly on edge until he is holding up the very same bottle you suggested earlier, “Wanted to say thank you for your recommendation, properly.” 

Your brows raise up, you saw him in the store hours ago, meaning he should in theory be long gone, and you ask, “I thought you had a date?” 

“I do. I was just waitin’ for her to get off work.” Even though you couldn’t see it fully, you could hear the smile in his tone, and it makes one spread to your own face. “Oh, my apologies, I didn’t realize that was you asking me out.” 

The tone you said it in was very light, and he seemed equally amused, “Sorry bout that, terrible manners on my part, truly.”

There is a beat of silence, and you say, “I think I can find it in my heart to forgive you.” 

“So you’d be willing to join me?” He asks, you nod, you felt endeared to him very quickly, the confidence he displayed, the boldness, you were charmed and figured why not? You had the time tonight, nothing wrong with enjoying a birthday drink bought by a courteous man. 

“Where are we going to go?” You ask, and he gestured over to the large shiny black Piterbilt towards the back of the lot. “Was thinking my truck, if that’s alright with you?”

When he asks in that delicious tone of voice, you think that yes, it is very alright with you. “Lead the way.” You prompt, and he does, you fall into step beside him, apron is thrown over your shoulder, and you asked, “So you’re a truck driver?”

“How’d you ever guess?” He asked on an exhalation of his cigarette with a glance over to you. Now you can catch the half smirk on his face, unable to make out his eyes completely, but it didn’t bother you, honestly you kind of dug the mysterious kind of thing, not even fully knowing what he looked like. If anything that communicated how into him, you were, hadn’t even seen his whole face but his voice and how he carried himself was more than enough to convince you to this odd kind of unexpected date. 

“I’m real intuitive. Call it a gift.” You mused, and he liked you, even in how you joked, there was no real meanness to it, could tell that it was all in fun and that inherent niceness shone through. “Giving me gifts when it’s your birthday? Isn’t that what M’ supposed to be doing?” 

That gives you some slight pause, how in the fuck did he know that it was your birthday? Before any serious question could be made, you were next to his truck on the passenger side. You look it over and say honestly, “Nice truck.”

“Thanks, do my best to take real good care of it, s’ seen some rough times.” You look a little closer, scrutinizing, if it had, you couldn’t tell, the thing looked clean and not a scratch on it. You turn and lean against it, you realize he had gotten some cups that were also sold at your work, he holds them out, “Mind holding these while I open this?”

You nod and take them out of his outstretched hand and watch as the last remainder of his cigarette was dropped and ground under the heel of his boot. He uncorks the bottle with ease, doesn’t spill any or cause it to overflow, which mildly impresses, you hold out the cups and he fills them. The bottle is set aside on the ground and after passing him his cup he asked “Any words to share?”

“Here’s to the weekend?” You offered up after a moment’s thought, and he said, “I’ll drink to that.” He knocks yours and his cups together, and you take a sip of the sweet and familiar fizzy alcoholic drink. 

“Seriously the shift I had today was rough, so this is really nice, thank you-” Then you realize you don’t know his name, he clearly picks up on this and says, “Name’s Rusty. Rusty Nail.” 

Immediately you figure it must be his CB handle, you wonder if Rusty is his real name, but also you don’t think it matters much, you don’t press, “Well thank you, Rusty, really.” 

“S’ my pleasure. Heard how that woman was going off on you earlier, some people can be so rude.” Is that what prompted this? The total bitch who was freaking over leeks? If so, you think that maybe her being such a raging cunt wasn’t such a bad thing if it led to this. 

Little did you know that Rusty had taken care of her, she was currently stuffed in the trunk of her own car, way, way on the other side of the lot, body long since gone cold. 

The conversation then turned to you both complaining about a shared distaste for rude and unreasonable people, he let you vent about your day and previous horrible customers at your job. As the conversation went on, you find yourself enjoying his company more and more. You also find yourself standing closer to him, half the bottle gone, he’s had another smoke, and you are leaning on him much more than the truck, he doesn’t mind, you sigh to him, “I cannot believe the crap you have to put up with, it’s so unfair!” 

“Some people have some really unsavoury and outdated views on people in my line of work.” He admits with a nod, and from what he’d shared it seemed like. There are people who say the meanest shit, make horrible assumptions, treat him like dirt or worse, a feeling you know all too well at your own job. You relate to Rusty. 

You’d been talking for an hour, and it was even later, darker, and a shiver unexpectedly ran up your spine, “You cold?”

You were a little, you were in a t-shirt and after standing in one spot for so long this late the chill had somehow set in. “Yeah, surprisingly I am a bit.” 

Then he made an interesting offer. “You want to get in my truck, warm up?” 

You think you really did want that. “Yeah, that’d be great, actually.” 

He moved back then and so did you, he opened the door for you, and you looked up, Christ it was big, how were you supposed to get in while in your slightly buzzed state without looking like a total clown? You feel him against your back, he asks, “Need some help?”

You nod, unsure of what he means or how he is going to help but trusting him all the same, it’s then that you feel his hands on you. He turns you, and then those same hands find your waist with ease and grip. He lifts you like you weigh nothing, and you realize to him, you probably do, as he helps hoist you into the passenger side of the truck. Rusty sits you on your ass in the seat and your face feels much hotter, he just scooped you up and set you down so fast, one simple and fluid motion as he stepped one foot up on the running board, and then there you were. You are side-saddle, legs dangling down and far off of the ground. His hands leave you quicker than you’d like, sliding off your waist and stepping back down. You are a bit dazed, his hand touches your ankle, and you jump, he laughs at your surprised, “What?”

“You wanna get your legs in, so I can close the door?” You nod and do so, swinging your legs in, and he shuts the door. Your hand, that had been clutching your bag and apron, dropped them on the floor by your feet. You look down into your cup, you hadn’t spilled any even when he picked you up, the cup is raised, you tip it back and swallow down the remainder. A sigh and you pull the cup back, hand still clutching it, comes to rest on your thigh as your thumb on your opposite hand swipes a stray drop from the corner of your mouth. He had come around to the other side, he has the door open and is sliding in beside you into the driver's seat, he’d picked up the bottle on the way, and you were contemplating asking for more.

As if reading your mind he gestures for your cup, you lean over, holding it out, and he pours you some more, you asked him, “So before, you were talking about all the bad stuff about truck driving, but what about the stuff you do like?”

The question seems to surprise him if his tone is any indication, “The stuff I do like?” 

He has pulled the bottle back, he isn’t pouring more for himself, you respond to his question with another of your own, “Yeah, what makes the job worth it? Other than the money.” 

Rusty considers the question for a moment before he says, “I like seein’ the country, like being by myself most of the time but most of all? Probably seems obvious, but the freedom of it.” 

You nodded, it made sense and asked, “Can go anywhere, do anything?” 

“S’actly.”  

The silence is as surprisingly comfortable as the passenger seat of this truck is. The thought hits, and you say it without thinking, “I dunno how you do it.” 

“What? Truck drivin’?” He asks, and you say with a turn to him, “Yeah! Like, the actual driving it.”

He laughs, and you press on, one hand holding your cup and the other making like you are gripping a steering wheel that was comically large, pretending to turn it, “Seriously! This thing is massive, it’s a beast! How can you control it?”

“Ain’t that hard really, just gotta be the right mix of careful and confident.” He assures, and you laugh, “You make it sound so easy, I’ve never driven anything this big, that-” You point out the window to your much less impressive ride, “-is my car over there.” 

“Yeah, don’t quite measure up, does it?” He teases and you grin, “Nope. But I don’t think I could drive anything like this.”

“I think you could.” A small pause before he asks the big question, “Wanna try?” 

You nearly choke on your sip and pull the cup back, wiping at your mouth, “What? Me? Drive the behemoth? You want to write it off that bad, Rusty?” 

“You cannot be that bad a driver.” He scoffs. 

“Rusty, you barely know me, I dunno-” He insists, “C’mon, I’ll help.”

“Help?”

You were curious enough to allow it to happen, you’d not counted on his idea of help being putting you in his lap. He’d moved the seat back enough and encouraged you to climb on, emboldened by both the drink and his encouragement, you slide on into the space he made. He moves the seat forward enough to do the pedals, and he places your hands on the wheel, his hands covering yours. “You sure this is a good idea?” 

Nerves were setting in, you’d been drinking, not a lot but also all the close contact with him was getting to you, his attractiveness was apparent during your brief meeting earlier but now that you'd’ been getting to know him? He was becoming even more appealing, being sat in his lap, your back to his chest, his hands on yours, you felt flustered. Sounded by him in both touch and scent, it could be enough to make your head swim if you let it. In your current position, his voice is over your shoulder, “Positive. You’ll be fine.” 

The tone of voice he says it in, the conviction, he makes you believe it. 

One of his hands leaves yours briefly to start her up, the truck rumbles to life, and it makes you jump slightly, Christ it was loud and is vibrating like all Hell. “We’ll just do a lil’ loop, alright? M’ doing the pedals, you just steer her real easy.” 

He had to speak louder to be heard over the hum of the truck, and you pitch your own volume up to be heard, “Yeah, real easy, can do.” 

His foot comes down slowly, and he eases it forward, you grip the wheel tightly and let him lead. He talks you through the process, and it helps, you focus your eyes forward and your ears on listening to his smooth voice praising you, “Uh-huh, around the pole, use it as a guide.” You swallowed and nodded, brows knit together as he keeps talking, “Oh good job, see? You’re doing it.” 

His hands squeeze yours reassuringly, your mouth feels dry, you nod and say quieter than you should, “Thanks.”

“No need to thank me, you’re doing most of the work.” You feel that isn’t truthful but again, he talks, you believe. 

“Almost all the way around, a little further-” Both his hands leave yours, sliding down your arms and choosing to come to rest on your waist again, letting you fully be in control. It makes you tense, rushing out, “Rusty, wait-”

Another flex of his hands, another show of comfort, he says easily, drawling out, “Calm down, you’re doing it all yourself.” 

You aren’t fully convinced until you’ve made the full loop, and he lets off the gas, he turns off the car and your shoulders slump, what he says next, makes you melt, “I told you. You’re perfect.” 

That does something, makes a particular part of you break, or is it wake up? Either way, a certain section of you, somewhere aside, comes alive, and instead of wanting to run from it, you chose to grab onto the live wire of sensation with both hands. The truck has stopped, but you keep moving, the urge overcomes, and you turn in your seat and in his lap, one hand comes up, meets his cheek, feeling the rough stubble. He’d already gotten you the champagne, but you think you want more still, and you ask, “Can I be selfish?”

“S’ your birthday, be as selfish as you want to.” You take that is more than enough of an invitation. You lean up and in, push the brim of his hat up enough to give yourself the appropriate access, and you kiss him. 

He had a feeling it was going this way, but thinking and experiencing are two different things. You choosing to take the lead was better than he could have been hoping for, though. Your mouth was so fucking soft, you felt warm, he tried to take it easy, but this is the kind of thing he can’t help getting swept up in. Chances like this don’t come around often, the urge to rush is present, he manages to ignore it, preferring to savour it, or rather, savour you. He lets himself relax further into the seat, returning your affection immediately. 

The scratch of his facial hair against your skin feels better than you’d hoped it would, you let out a soft exhale, a sound on the precipice of a moan while still falling just short. His hands are still on your waist, he nudges you closer, you lean in more, your head tilts, his lips part, and he tastes more like cigarettes than he does the champagne, but it’s there. Your tongue makes the first exploration and sticky sweet fruit is unearthed from below smoke and ash. 

One of his hands slides down, a brief pass over your thigh, and you wonder where it’s going, you realize in short order when the seat you are both on moves back, giving you more space, making it, so you aren’t quite as locked up against the steering wheel. Heat is sparking inside, your hand moves from his face, slipping to rest on his neck, your other hand comes up to his shoulder, fingers grip the jacket he has on and the want becomes too much. You grind down on him. 

The shifting and adjusting allows you to feel how hard he was growing, a harsher inhale, and you begin to scramble, you want more contact, you move to be fully straddling him, no more twisting partially around like you currently were. You are seated just right soon enough, ass firmly planted, and you think fleetingly God he had some solid thighs, strong, you felt very well-supported. 

The making out was only paused briefly while you changed position, you’d gotten right back into it, your mouth slotting back against his with a hum that sounded like his name. You grind again and this time he returns it, rutting up into you, and the friction makes you actually moan this time. The taste, the feeling, and two minutes more of making out is all it takes for you to break, pulling back once his touch had gotten bolder, one having slid up your body, palming one of your tits through your work shirt easily with how large his hands were. You arch into him, breaking the kiss you beg, “Fuck, Rusty, more.”

You are close enough now that you can see his smile as opposed to just hear it, his hand moves and starts to go under your shirt, rough fingers on bare skin and steadily moving up, brushing the edge of your bra. Not quite a laugh but more than an amused releasing of air, he asks, “More?” 

A frantic nod, another squirm of your hips and he asks, “How much more? C’mon, tell me.”

He wants you to say it and you want it desperately enough that it’s no issue, far from it, if anything him making you say it, makes you want it more, makes you feel hotter. “Fuck me?”

“I like your directness.” Thank God for that. “Just have a lil more patience with me, alright?” 

When he asks in that tone, you think you’d do just about anything. A small nod and he needs to get his fill of you just a hair more. Hands explore, groping, feeling, it teases both of you, trying to get a sense of your body before the clothes come off, mind running over just how you’ll feel with nothing in the way. You remain good, you let him feel, minimal squirming on your part, even when he starts kissing your neck as the hand that isn’t up your shirt kneads your ass. Only when you feel your underwear literally plastered to you and your cunt ache incessantly do you whine his name again. 

He mercifully acquiesces, “Okay, okay, I hear you.” 

He eases up, a gesture of his head for you to move to the passenger's seat, “Gonna need you out of those clothes for what you really want.” 

You rush to comply. Once in the passenger's seat, sitting sideways, still facing him, looking at him, your hands catch the bottom hem of your shirt and as if anticipating that you intended to frantically tear it off, he stops you. One hand out and that sweet but firm tone, commanding, "Do it slowly." 

Your face feels hot, and you do as instructed, slowing your movements right down, pulling the shirt up, exposing your stomach and then your bra. Higher and higher until you have taken it off, tossing it in the direction of your bag and apron. Next you have your thumbs hooked in the waist of your pants, arching your hips you start to slide them down, you watch him, try to gauge his reaction, but it’s hard in the low lighting. He gives a nod to show he’s pleased so far, encouraging you verbally too, “Go on.” 

Shoes removed, pants follow, soon you are in just your underwear, and he speaks, a small gesture of your body, up and down, “S’ a good start but keep going.” 

You reach behind yourself, start to unhook your bra, and he is still talking, “Dying to see the rest.” 

You swear you can feel his eyes raking over every exposed inch of your skin. A small thought strikes, you follow it, slipping your arms out of the straps but holding the cups to your chest, an indulgent smile, a rise of your eyebrows, and he clicks his tongue, you play dumb and ask, “What?”

“You’re being a tease.” He states, and you ask in a tone of mock innocence, “Am I?” 

He says more seriously. “Drop it.” 

Unsure if he means your bra or the act, you chose to abandon both. You let the padded fabric slip out of your hands, a spread of your legs, you wonder if he can tell how wet you are from here. He moves too now, you weren’t expecting it, he falls to his knees in the space between your seat and his. Hands come to your hips and the sudden contact makes you jerk with a sharp inhale. His mouth catches yours in another kiss, you return it and moan, his mouth doesn’t stay on yours for long, trails down, jaw and neck, one on your shoulder and lower.

He is confident, he’s taking what he wants and you more than let him, you enjoy every rough scrape of his well worked hands, pass of his lips and nip of his teeth. His warm breath fanning over your chest is welcome, one hand has moved again, over your hip and now on your inner thigh, his thumb is close enough, and he runs it up you, swipes up your clothed slit. You sigh, eyes falling closed, relishing the contact, you are sure now he can feel how wet you are. He runs it back down and then up again, a press just right, and you moan between the friction on your clit and his mouth now on your chest. 

He found it so easily and judging by the smile you can feel against the curve of your breast, he is just as pleased. Rusty abandons the current pleasant task, fingers hooking in your underwear, “I got a feelin’ it’d be a fight to get these off you too, an’ I just can’t wait.” 

You couldn’t either, not anymore. 

Assisting with a move of your ass up, he gets them off, and now you are naked in his semi-truck. You want to jump him, but he is holding you down by your thighs, taking in the view of you unobstructed, totally bare. “Fucking gorgeous.”

A hand reaches out, catches his jacket, and you tug as you tell him, “I feel really exposed right now, you wanna lose some of these?”

“S’ only fair.” He agrees, he removes his jacket and asks, “Wanna give me a little show while I fix myself?” 

It is a request, but you take it like it’s an order. Hand between your spread legs, fingers trace up, catching ample wetness and spreading it up, circling sensitive tissue, making your thighs tense and a small moan fall from your lips. “There you go.”

The praise helps, you increase the pressure, and he hums in approval. Shirt is gone, belt is opened more and more revealed until he is in a similar state of undress. The view of him stripping all for you is insanely helpful. Pleasure is filling you easily and once he is ready he asks, “You mind if I-?”

“However you want me, please.” It leaves you needy and breathless. He steps in, he moves your hands away from yourself, and starts to adjust you to his liking. You like it, you think he can be rougher honestly, you are put on your knees, facing the passenger window, a hand on your back, adjusting you more, hips tilted up, and you feel him against you. The bump of his shaft between your thighs and over your clit is already very good. “Ready, yeah?”

A shaky nod, “Please Rusty-”

The one word and his name is all you are able to get out before he is lining up just right, you hold your breath in anticipation, he spits into his own hand, strokes himself, the extra lube as courtesy is appreciated. He slides in, and you let out a gasp, he doesn’t do it easily, taking you in one firm stroke, hand on your hips as his come to rest against your ass. He revels in you, the tight, soaked heat of you, his head tips back slightly as he soaks it before he starts to move. Pulling out halfway before driving forward, your hands scrabble for the window’s edge, you hold onto it like a lifeline as you gear up for what is already promising to be the ride of a lifetime. 

His thrusting is firm, just like him, steady and sure, a good and even pace. It leaves breathless, not caring about being overheard, not like anyone could in the empty parking lot. A heavy breath from him, “Fucks sake, you’re soaked.” 

You were moaning, incoherent pleas, along with his name, you were more than warmed up, each drag of his thick shaft in and out increasing the feeling. Fingers dig into the meat of your hips, he pulls you back as he drives forward, and you move too, rocking backwards to meet him. “Tight as Hell, can barely fit myself in here.” 

“Keep talking, never, ever stop talking.” Is the one thought in your brain as you moan dumbly. You aren’t thinking much, unable, but you are feeling. Rusty was so kind to you, was totally turning your birthday around, making you feel incredible, spoiling you, and you want to do the same. His hands are roaming and that won’t do, you need to stop him before you are fucked into total submission and wrecked. Another minute, just another minute, you tell yourself, eyes are half open and brain hazy. The glass is so fogged up you can’t see out of it, could write your name but if he asked you doubted your hands would be steady enough. Could you even spell your name right now with what he was doing to you? 

Finally, you reach back, hands on his hips, “Ru-Rusty, please, stop-”

“Something the matter?” He asked, holding deep, all the way to the hilt inside you. His hands smooth up your sides, fingers trace the curves of your chest before coming back down again, and you shiver, clenching on his shaft. 

“Gotta, fuck, do something. Pull out?” He listens, he does so, “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”  

The pet names, fucking Christ the pet names, you are forcing yourself to move. It happens quickly. You turn, and then you push him, so his back is against the seat of the driver's side. He takes the hint, sits up on the seat sideways, and then you are the one on your knees. Between his spread thighs, you lean down, a hand locks around the base of his shaft and you lick. He lets out a surprised groan, soft and sounding too good. You start to blow him in earnest, careful of your gag reflex as you work. Your hand slips up and down his slick shaft as you suck on the head, his hand comes down to your head, fingers twist in your hair, “Like tasting yourself?” 

A nod as you moan against him, tongue swirls around the tip, and he watches enraptured, his hips buck slightly, and you gag almost immediately. He inhales through his teeth, “Sorry there.”

You brush him off, a gesture that it is fine, as you redouble your efforts. He seems to be enjoying it immensely, he is encouraging you further but soon asks, “Can you handle some more?”

For him, you want to try. You nod, and he guides you, does it slowly and easily, “Breathe through it-”

You do and the pace, his voice, it somehow works, and you’re able to take him deeper, “Pretty birthday girl. Takin’ it so well.” 

All you wanted to do was please him, you continue the work for only a minute more, however because then he tells you, “I want you back up here.”

You jump at the chance. Same as before, you climb up him and straddle him, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see where this is going. “You didn’t have to do that.” He comments, and you have your hands on his biceps, currently sucking a hickey into his neck and teasing your dripping hole with the tip of his dick, “I know. I wanted to.”  

“Could tell you were into it. You always wanna taste yourself like that?” 

“Not always but it is-” You move your hips down, start to slide him inside with a moan, once he is buried inside of you again you finish the thought, “-a favourite.” 

“Dirty girl.” He coos it like a compliment, and it hits you just like one, too. You start to ride, his hands on you help along with upward rocks of his hips. You bite and suck along his throat in between broken moans, the salt of his skin is a tad too addicting, as is the stretch of him inside and the way he brushes all the right spots inside of you at this angle. 

Apparently it still isn’t good enough for him. 

He tugs you closer, presses you so that way your clit is getting friction and ground with every thrust and bounce, your moans increase in volume in pitch along with the sensation. You had no clue this is how your day would shake out, if you did, maybe your shift would have been more bearable. 

His hands are on your back, holding you close, fucking up into you as you are slamming down, and on a particularly good hit you are gasping. For two people fucking for the first time and relative strangers, you’d found a frighteningly good rhythm. Your body is moving on instinct, just chasing what feels good but still, thoughtlessly tinged with doing your best to please him, thankful for the moment that what seems to be getting him off is feeling incredible for you. It isn’t quite enough, though, and he seems to pick up on that. 

“Lean back.” His voice snaps you out of your pleasure induced stupor, and you nod, separating yourself from him, the one point of contact still remaining your ass on his thighs and him stuffed deep inside. He directs you further, his hands help, and you find yourself with one hand on his knee, the other braced on the roof of the truck, feet on the seat on either side of him and with a confident nod you start moving again. 

It’s good, you are able to hit spots inside yourself that are even deeper, using all your leg muscles as well as your hands it becomes more of a full body effort, minute adjustments can be made so too much strain is never on one part of your sweat slick frame. Soon as you are just right in the groove of it, he surprises you, why he wanted the change in position becomes all too clear. His hand is between your bodies and his thumb presses down, swirling over your clit, and it makes your pace falter, “Oh my fucking God-”

“Don’t stop now.” The way he says it makes a shiver run up your spine and again makes you clench down on him. He says it in the dominant tone of voice, but it’s light, that smug fucking half grin on his face, unable to tear his eyes away from your body. You shake your head, choking out, “Wo-won’t stop.” 

“No, course you won’t, you’re so good at listening.” The praise washes over you with another sharp jolt of ecstasy. His hand that wasn’t working your nerves into a frenzy was on your thigh, sliding up, gripping your hip, “This workin’ for you?”

Fuck, was it ever. You nod frantically, focusing on breathing and not stopping riding him, but in short order, your movements were getting increasingly sloppy. It was like he didn’t have to ask, didn’t rush it, just let you work it out and helped carry you along. You were getting dangerously close, the edge creeping up at a blinding pace, everything you’d experienced so far this night was piling up and threatening to make you break apart at the seams. There were no real words, just hurried breathing and pitched moans, head back, nails digging into the fabric of the truck cab’s roof, the sound of skin on skin and his encouragement. 

A soft call of your name, his hips moving up, grinding into you as his hand works and him asking in a mind meltingly hot tone, “I wanna see it, give it to me.”

And something about that, whether it is what he said or how he said it, causes the reaction inside to finally make it happen, like it clicks into place just right, and you go from a weak and barely audible strained whisper of, “I’m almost there!” To holy fucking shit, I’m, “-cumming!” 

Riding as much became not an option, legs almost giving out, but he takes over, grip on your hip is bruising, hip strength impressive, and he drives up into you over and over. Your hand isn’t able to stay on the roof, caught midair, body tense as your climax rockets through your body, you think your hand on his knee might be drawing blood with your nails, but you can’t stop it nor can you care. 

You jerk as it peaks, and he slips out, his fingers don’t stop until you are crying out and pushing him away, still trembling through the aftershocks. Your eyes were closed, you were panting and not even remotely down from his high when you feel the hot splatter on your tits and stomach with your name staining his tongue. Peaking back open, you see him, hand around himself, and he’d cum all over your torso. The pretty pearly white is sliding down, and his own breathing is very laboured. Your hand trails down, still shaky, skating through the mess he left, and then you're bringing those same fingers back up to taste him. 

Your body relaxes against him, you get into a more comfortable position, and after you stop shuddering so much you are telling him, “That was pretty fucking great.”

“Oh, are you all done?” He asked as he looks up at you, hands are resting lazily on your thighs, tracing patterns absentmindedly. “I mean I thought we were but are we not?”

“We don’t gotta be. I’m in no rush.” The thought of that is extremely pleasant. 

“Another drink till you’re ready to go again, old man?” You asked with a smile, and he laughs as he reaches over to where the bottle was left on the floor of his side of the truck. Thankfully it hadn’t been knocked over, “You get that one and only cuz you were so good.” 

“Only one old man joke or one joke overall? Because I was gonna make one hoping that you aren’t passingly along tetanus to me Rusty, but if you’re planning to be a buzzkill-” He shuts you up with a hand on the back of your neck and a kiss that you end up humming into. Yeah, you think this has been a pretty solid birthday. 

[heeverseblog]

body on me- jake sim au

pairing: pastor’s son!jake x church girl! reader

synopsis: everyone sees you and jake as the perfect, god-fearing couple of your town. but what they didn’t know was you’re not as innocent as you seem to be.

 genre: smut, established relationship, pwp i guess????

warnings: semi-public sex, a bit of church themes (skip this fic if you’re uncomfortable), y/n’s mother is kind of a bad mother

listen to this to amp up the spice:

*read below*

“Food for the stomach and the stomach for food, and God will destroy them both.” The body, however, is not meant for sexual immorality but for the Lord, and the Lord for the body.

your mother reads the verse before closing the bible, “remember children, your body does not belong to anyone else. it only belongs to the lord our god. if you ever enter marriage, remember that you do not own your spouse’s body. it is the lord’s and his alone.”

everyone nods their heads. you, however, didn’t and your mother must have noticed this.

“right, y/n?”

bullshit.

 you nod your head.

“that is all for today. remember to write your own reflection essays and we will be sharing them next week.”

everyone said their farewells. you stayed behind to help fix the chairs. the other kids from the different circle helped you too. including the pastor’s son, jake.

you lifted one chair to put it on top of the other. you were surprised when a hand held yours. that hand with prominent veins belonged to one person only.

 “hi.” jake smiles innocently at you and you gave him the same sweet smile.

everyone was familiar of the status you both had. being the pastor’s son and the daughter of the head of the church group. every kid looked up to you two, being the sweet, god-fearing couple.

but what people didn’t know is that your innocent gazes are merely a façade of your true desires.

you kept staring at jake’s veiny hands. with his sleeves rolled up, you were getting more turned on.

judging by how you were looking at him, jake leans closer to your ear, “follow me.”

***

your back was pushed to the wall of the stockroom as jake attacked you with harsh kisses. you pull him closer to you as the intense feeling began to build up. jake placed his knee on your clothed core and you began grinding on it.

“oh god!”

“y/n, we shouldn’t use the lord’s name in vain.”

you fastened your movements which made jake groan before he kisses your neck then back to your lips. he bites your lower lip and enters his tongue once you opened your mouth.

“j-jake…a-aah!”

jake unbuttons your blouse then fondles your breasts. next, he unclasps your bra and lets it fall on the floor. you tug on jake’s shirt and he began unbuttoning it. both of you were bare and you slowly touched each other’s bodies with admiration.

“you’re so beautiful.” jake says before diving back into your mouth. he slid one of his fingers in your pussy and you moaned at the feeling. you can feel yourself releasing your juices as jake fastens his pace.

“jake. p-please.” you whine and jake just lets out this breathy laugh. he kept drawing circles in your clit and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes back due to the pleasure.

 “anything for my angel.”

jake gets on his knees and doesn’t waste time in eating you out. you hiss at the feeling of him making

“o-ooh!”

jake immediately unbuckles his belt and when his member was on display. he removes your panties then inserts himself inside you. both of you groan at the feeling before you slowly grind your hips forward.

“f-fuck…”

“you sound hot when cursing.” you say out of breath and wrap your legs on jake’s waist.

jake turns you around and you felt more euphoric than ever. you knew jake liked it when you take him from behind and you love him for remembering that about you.

“s-so close…a-aah!” you held one of your breasts, hoping it’ll stimulate your orgasm but jake immediately grabs your hand and holds it instead.

jake presses his chest on your back and both of you were basically out of breath

“who do you belong to?” jake whispers in your ear.

“y-you. i-i’m only yours.”

jake continues pounding you from behind and reached for his head and brushed your fingers on his hair.

“are you mine, jakey?”

jake growls in your ear “i’ll always be yours,” and pounds harder behind you.

“o-ooh! shit!”

you turn your head and jake gave you a passionate kiss as he slow down his pace, both of you reaching your highs.

both of you took slow breaths, pulling each other closer to feel the intimacy and warmth of your bodies together.

“i love you.” you say in between breaths. you can feel jake smile at you from behind and he kisses the side of your head.

“i love you. you did so well for me.”

minutes later, both of you changed back into your clothes but the sexual mood hasn’t gone yet.

jake hugged you from behind and gave you wet kisses on the side of your neck.

“jake…”

you can feel his hands going inside the skirt of your dress and touch the waistband of your panties.

“jake, we literally just had sex.”

“but i’ll be away for a week. i’m going to miss you.”

you chuckle and turn around, “you can always call me,” then you lean into jake’s ear, “and we can talk all night long.”

you can see jake’s ears turn red, “and have my dad hear our noises in a church retreat? no, thank you.”

jake kisses you slow, his hand holding your back. you let out a soft moan when jake brushes his lips at your neck.

“only i get to hear those pretty noises.” jake says in between breaths.

 “jake, really…we have to go.”

jake pouts and you couldn’t help but melt and give him another kiss. it would be a sin to lie that you weren’t needy over jake as he is with you.

“don’t know how i’ll survive the week without you.”

“should i just tell my dad i’m sick?”

“no, you have to go. and if you are sick, who’s going to take care of you?”

“hm…let me guess. you.”

both of you ended up doing a cute make out that soon turned into a lustful one.

later on, you ended up giving each other oral and one more round with you riding on jake as you rock your hips fast. you cover his mouth from his moans and constant pleases, smiling that finally it was you making him beg for you.

but sadly, both of you went back after your session or else your mother will go frantic with you missing.

“y/n, dear.” your mother calls you, being happy when she sees you with jake.

“we’ve been looking for you. where have you been?”

“y/n was helping me organize the documents, mrs. l/n.”

“oh is that so? well, you know my daughter. always one to help with people’s needs.”

you can see jake smirking, knowing he understood that statement in a different way.

“jake, son.”

jake’s mother calls him and tells him that they’ll be heading home.

“excuse me.”

jake passes by you and your mother and subtly brushes his finger on yours. you both look at each other before parting your separate ways.