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sunshinesfreckless · 4 months ago

Text

Technical Difficulties

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Summary: Breaking your laptop is annoying enough—but it gets a little more fun when the guy fixing it for free turns out to be ridiculously hot.

Warnings: Backshots by Felix, No panties for Felix, Orgasm with Felix

Pairing: NonIdol!Felix x Fem!Reader

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“FUCK.” Y/N smacked the back of her laptop, her frustration echoing through the lecture hall. Every head in the room turned toward her. She shrank under the weight of their stares. “Sorry.”

Seungmin, her best friend since forever, sighed beside her. “Y/N, you need to get that thing fixed. Duct-taping your battery isn’t a long-term solution.”

She groaned, slumping against the desk. “Yeah? Well, I don’t exactly have the money to fix it.”

Seungmin rubbed his temples like he was debating whether to strangle her or help. “Okay, listen. I have a friend—same campus, studies choreography. He fixes laptops in his free time.”

Y/N perked up. “How much?”

“For me? Nothing. So if I go with you, he might make an exception.”

She exhaled in relief. “Seungmin, I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Let’s go before that thing explodes in your hands.”

────୨ৎ────

With her tote bag slung over her shoulder, Y/N walked beside Seungmin across campus. The Australian sun was merciless today, heat clinging to her skin even though she was wearing a light summer dress. She could already feel sweat forming at the nape of her neck.

Seungmin cut through the park, heading straight for the big tree where a group of guys usually gathered. Y/N never paid them much attention—she didn’t care for most people on campus.

But then he spoke.

“Hey, guys.”

Y/N barely registered the greeting because—holy shit—she knew him. Well, not personally. But Hyunjin was practically a campus legend. Every girl she met wouldn’t shut up about him. So beautiful. So romantic. So sweet. So dreamy. She had rolled her eyes at it a million times.

And there he was, lowering his sketchbook, black curtain bangs shielding his eyes from the sun like he was straight out of a damn movie.

But next to him?

Yeah. That’s where things got interesting.

Y/N suddenly cared a whole lot more about Seungmin’s friends.

She had heard Felix’s name before, but good God, she had not been prepared for this. His blonde hair was tied back, a few strands falling artfully into his absurdly beautiful sculpted face. She could see the outline of his toned arms beneath his white tank top, the sun casting a golden glow on his tan skin.

He glanced up at Seungmin with a lazy smile.

“Seungmin, hey.”

And just like that, Y/N’s laptop was no longer her biggest problem.

Felix’ eyes landed on her. „And hey, you.“

Y/N felt heat rush to her face. “Hi.”

Felix’s smile widened instantly.

Seungmin got straight to the point. „She’s got a broken laptop for you to fix. Think you can do it?“

„Sure.“ Felix shot Y/N another reassuring smile. „What’s the problem?“

She hesitated, glancing at Seungmin, who gave her a look—a silent just answer him already. Scrambling, she reached into her tote bag and pulled out the laptop.

Hyunjin, who had been watching silently, blinked. „Jeez, just put it to rest, girl.“

Felix chuckled as he took the laptop from her hands. „Why did you duct tape the battery?“

Y/N shifted awkwardly. „No money for repairs,“ she mumbled, suddenly embarrassed.

Felix hummed, examining the damage. „Yeah… I get that. I’ll fix it this week. You can pick it up on Saturday from my place.“ He glanced up at her. „Not really a fan of making ladies come to me by themselves, but my schedule is packed this weekend.“

„Oh, no! Don’t worry, it’s totally fine! I’ll pick it up!“ she blurted out quickly.

Felix turned to Seungmin with an amused smirk. „Your girlfriend?“

Seungmin made a face. „Thank god, no. We just grew up together.“

Felix nodded, then looked at Y/N again, his voice softer this time. „Don’t worry about the money. I’ll do it for free.“

────୨ৎ��───

Y/N took a deep breath as she stood in front of his House door, adjusting the strap of her tote bag. She wasn’t sure why she was nervous. It was just Felix. Just the hot guy she barely knew who had offered to fix her laptop for free. No big deal.

She knocked twice.

The door swung open almost immediately, revealing Felix in nothing but sweatpants, his toned upper body on full display. His damp blonde hair suggested he had just showered, and Y/N had to make a conscious effort to keep her eyes on his face.

“Hey,” he greeted with a lazy grin, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey,” she replied, clearing her throat. “I, uh… came to get my laptop.”

Felix smirked, tilting his head. “Yeah, I figured. Come in.”

She stepped inside, the scent of his cologne mixed with something warm and sweet—vanilla? Cookies? Her stomach growled in betrayal, and Felix chuckled.

“Did you eat today?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, watching as he walked over to his desk. Her eyes involuntarily traced the muscles in his back before she forced herself to look away.

Felix picked up her laptop, holding it out to her. “All fixed. Should last you a while now.”

She reached for it, but he didn’t let go immediately. Their fingers brushed, and Y/N felt a jolt of something—anticipation?

“Careful with it this time,” Felix murmured, his voice lower than before.

Y/N swallowed. “Yeah. Sure. Thanks.”

────୨ৎ────

“YOU ARE NOT ALLOWED TO BREAK IT AGAIN!” Seungmin practically shouted, his voice echoing through the hallway.

Y/N clutched her laptop to her chest, guilt flashing across her face for a split second before she stubbornly lifted her chin. “HOW ELSE AM I SUPPOSED TO TALK TO HIM AGAIN?!”

Seungmin stared at her like she had just confessed to arson. “Are you serious? You’re seriously considering destroying your laptop just so you have an excuse to see Felix again?”

“Apparently!”

Seungmin dragged a hand down his face, exhaling sharply. “Y/N, I beg you—just go up to him. He’s literally the nicest guy on this entire campus.”

Y/N groaned dramatically, leaning against the wall like the weight of her feelings was physically crushing her. “Seungmin, I love you, but no. He might be nice and very kind and very friendly—”

“Yeah, it’s Sunshine Felix we’re talking about,” Seungmin deadpanned, folding his arms.

“BUT I CAN’T JUST DO THAT!” Y/N wailed. “What am I supposed to say? ‘Hey, I know you did me a huge favor for free, but I think I left my dignity at your house and was hoping I could come pick it up?’”

Seungmin rolled his eyes. “I dunno, maybe something normal like ‘Hey, Felix, how’s it going?’”

Y/N looked at him, completely unimpressed.

“You clearly don’t understand how unhinged my feelings are right now,” she said, voice completely serious. “I am literally one intrusive thought away from throwing my laptop off the balcony just to recreate our meet-cute.”

Seungmin groaned. “I hate you.”

“And yet,” Y/N smirked, “you’re still gonna help me.”

────୨ৎ────

The next day, Y/N found herself once again marching across campus with Seungmin, her laptop clutched in her arms like a newborn.

“You cannot be serious,” Seungmin muttered beside her.

Y/N lifted her chin. “I don’t know what you mean.”

“You do know what I mean.” He gestured at the laptop. “You just got that thing back. Yesterday. And now, what? It magically broke again?”

Y/N cleared her throat. “Technology is fragile.”

Seungmin groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Y/N, I swear to God—”

Before he could finish, they arrived at the big tree where Hyunjin and Felix were lounging as usual. Hyunjin had his sketchbook open, absentmindedly twirling a pencil, while Felix leaned back against the trunk, scrolling on his phone.

Seungmin sighed like he was about to walk her down the aisle. “Here we go again.”

“Hey, guys,” he called.

Felix looked up, and the second his gaze landed on Y/N, his lips curled into an amused smile.

“No way,” he said, sitting up straighter. His eyes flickered to the laptop in her arms. “Already?”

Y/N’s breath hitched. Oh god, he was so hot. And now he was laughing at her.

She forced herself to act normal. “I—um—it’s not what it looks like.”

Felix raised an eyebrow. “It looks like you broke it again.”

Y/N huffed. “Well, I didn’t—it just… stopped working.”

Felix leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Mhm. And how exactly did it ‘just stop working’?”

Y/N avoided his eyes. “It just happened.”

Felix chuckled, clearly entertained. “Alright, let’s see it.”

She handed it over, and their fingers just barely brushed. Y/N tried not to react, but her entire body was hyper-aware of the fleeting touch. Felix smirked like he knew.

He turned the laptop over, inspecting it. “You sure you’re not doing this on purpose?”

“What?!” Y/N squeaked. “Of course not! That would be insane!”

Felix grinned. “Mhm. If you say so.”

Y/N felt like she was about to explode on the spot. Meanwhile, Seungmin looked like he wanted to fling himself into the nearest bush.

“Just tell me when it’s fixed,” she mumbled.

Felix tapped his fingers against the laptop. “Thursday?”

Y/N nodded quickly. “Thursday.”

And with that, she turned on her heel and walked off, dragging Seungmin with her before she could embarrass herself any further.

Once they were out of earshot, she exhaled sharply. Then, with complete determination, she said, “I’m picking it up without underwear.”

Seungmin choked on his own breath, nearly tripping over his own feet. “WHAT?!”

Y/N didn’t waver. “You heard me.”

He stared at her, absolutely horrified. “You’re beyond saving.”

She just smiled.

────୨ৎ────

Y/N thought she had the guts. She really did.

But now, standing in front of Felix’s family home again—this expensive, ridiculously pretty house that somehow made her feel even smaller—she chickened out. Underwear very much on.

Felix leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, looking just as unfairly attractive as always. His eyes flickered down to the laptop in her hands before meeting hers again, amusement dancing in them.

“So,” he said, a lazy smirk tugging at his lips, “you planning on actually keeping it alive this time?”

Y/N felt her face heat up. “I—it wasn’t my fault.”

Felix chuckled. “Mhm. Sure.”

Y/N turned around and almost sprinted back home.

────୨ৎ────

Well… she couldn’t break it again, right? But she could pretend to struggle with a software issue… yes… that was perfect.

The next day, when she asked Seungmin to go with her to Felix again, he looked like he was about to commit a crime.

“Y/N,” he deadpanned. “I swear to God—”

“Please, Seungmin. Just one more time.”

“One more time? That’s what you said the two times before!”

But despite all his complaints, he still found himself walking the same damn path across campus for the third time. When they reached Felix and Hyunjin again, Seungmin muttered, “I can’t believe this.”

Felix looked up from his own laptop, instantly breaking into a smile. “Don’t tell me you broke it again.”

Y/N shook her head way too fast. “No! No, I just— I need your help with a program. I can’t figure it out, and since you’re good with tech—”

“Sure, pretty,” Felix interrupted smoothly.

Y/N went completely still. Her brain short-circuited. Did she hear that right? Pretty?

Hyunjin was already grinning like an idiot, exchanging a glance with Seungmin, who just rolled his eyes. “Oh, this is so painful to watch,” Hyunjin muttered under his breath.

Felix, completely oblivious to the way Y/N was struggling to breathe, checked the time on his phone. “I’m kinda busy today, but come over Friday evening. My family’s out, so it’ll be quieter.”

Y/N blinked at him. His house. Friday. Alone.

“Okay,” she breathed out before she could even think.

Felix grinned and handed her laptop back. “See you then, troublemaker.”

────୨ৎ────

She did it. She actually did it.

No panties.

Y/N took a slow breath as she stood in front of his house, smoothing down the ruffles of her white summer dress. Her heart pounded against her ribs, and the heat pooling in her stomach made it impossible to think straight.

The door swung open, and there he was.

Felix. His blonde hair slightly messy like he’d just run his hands through it. He wore a white tank top and denim jeans—dangerous on him. His toned arms were on full display, and the way the fabric clung to his torso had her pressing her thighs together instinctively.

She was so fucked.

“Hey,” he greeted, his voice warm and effortless, like he hadn’t just sent her body into overdrive.

“Hi,” she answered, hoping he didn’t notice the slight shake in her voice.

“Come in.”

She stepped inside, and he closed the door behind her. His eyes flickered over her dress—the soft fabric, the delicate ruffles—before pointing toward his room.

“You know the way.”

She let out a nervous laugh and walked ahead, unaware of the way his eyes followed her every step.

Felix exhaled slowly, subtly adjusting the condom in his pocket so she wouldn’t see the outline through his jeans. Just in case. He had no idea if things would go that way tonight, but if she had any clue what she was doing to him right now…

He swallowed hard and followed her in.

She sat down in the chair he had placed next to his gaming setup, crossing her legs delicately. The movement made her dress shift slightly, revealing just a hint more of her thigh.

“You hungry? Want something to drink?” he asked, leaning against the desk.

“No, thank you,” she replied with a small smile.

He smiled back—slow, easy. And then he settled into his chair, pushing his setup aside to make space for her laptop.

“So,” he said, cracking his knuckles, “what’s the problem?”

“Well…” She leaned forward, typing in her password. “First, I don’t really understand how this software works…”

Felix nodded, but he wasn’t looking at the screen. His focus had caught on something else entirely—the soft swell of her cleavage as she leaned in. The absence of bra straps.

Fuck.

His jaw tightened slightly as he bit the inside of his cheek, dragging his gaze away before she could catch him staring. But his hands clenched over his thighs, the heat behind his navel spreading fast.

She knows exactly what she’s doing.

He really tried—tried to focus, tried to explain. But her perfume was clouding his head, and the fact that she was so close wasn’t helping.

And then, just like that, he shut the laptop.

Y/N blinked at him. “Uh…?”

Felix exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his chair, his fingers tapping against the desk. His eyes dragged over her, slow, appreciative.

“You really think I can focus on explaining when all I can think about is what’s under that pretty dress?” His voice was low—dangerous. Her breath hitched, heat shooting straight between her legs.

“Excuse me?” she managed, her face burning.

But she knew what he said. And worse? He was right. The trap had worked.

Felix tilted his head slightly, running his tongue over his lower lip. “You heard me.”

She sat back in the chair, suddenly feeling much smaller under his gaze.

He turned his chair to face her fully, his legs spreading just enough to make her pulse race. His hands rested lazily on the armrests, but there was nothing casual about the way he was looking at her now.

“C’mere, gorgeous,” he murmured.

Her breath came short.

She hesitated—only for a second—before slowly lifting one leg over his, then the other. She settled into his lap, straddling him. And that’s when Felix knew.

Knew she wasn’t playing around. Knew she meant to do this.

Because the moment she settled onto him, he could feel everything.

No barriers. No fabric. Just the scorching heat of her dripping core pressing against the rough denim of his jeans.

His grip tightened instinctively on her hips. A slow smirk spread across his lips as he dragged his hands up her back, pulling her in closer.

“You little vixen,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement.

Y/N swallowed hard, her hands gripping his shoulders.

“Are you telling me you really needed help with that software,” he teased, voice dropping an octave, “when you showed up here without any underwear?”

She had to giggle.

Felix grinned at her, shaking his head, amused and wrecked by her at the same time. But then—before she could overthink, before the teasing could stretch any longer—he pulled her closer, his hands gripping her waist with purpose, and crushed his lips against hers.

It was deep. Intense. The kind of kiss that sent her mind spiraling and left her breathless within seconds.

Y/N melted into him, her fingers curling around the fabric of his tank top. He was solid under her hands, all heat and strength, his chest rising and falling against hers as their lips moved together, messy and desperate.

She could feel his heartbeat thundering through him, or maybe it was hers. It didn’t matter.

His hands tightened at her waist, fingers pressing into the soft fabric of her dress like he was trying to memorize the feel of her. And then—fuck it—she went all in.

Her tongue met his, hot and hungry, sliding against his in a way that had him groaning low in his throat.

That sound. That deep, rumbling noise had something dark and needy twisting inside her.

Felix’s hands roamed up her back, his fingers running along the curve of her spine, then sliding down to cup her hips. He pulled her tighter against him, their bodies flush now, no space left between them.

His mouth moved against hers, lips parting, tongues meeting again, and it was sloppy—wet, reckless, desperate. She didn’t care. Neither did he.

His hands traced the hem of her dress, skimming along the bare skin of her thighs. She shivered, her body arching into him instinctively.

Y/N’s fingers threaded into his hair, tugging lightly, and Felix let out a sharp breath against her lips before tilting his head and deepening the kiss even further.

God, he tasted good. Like mint and something sweet, something entirely him. She was getting drunk on it, on him.

Felix pulled away for just a second—just long enough to catch his breath—and looked at her.

Her lips were swollen, slightly parted. Her chest rising and falling quickly. And her eyes—fuck, her eyes were hazy, full of something dark and wanting.

His hand came up, thumb running along her lower lip, smudging the wetness there.

“You’re trouble,” he murmured, voice rough.

Y/N smiled, her breath still shaky. “You like trouble.”

Felix huffed a laugh, then tilted her chin up, his mouth capturing hers again, hungrier this time.

She could feel how much he wanted her. The way his fingers dug into her hips, the way his chest pressed against hers like he wanted to be impossibly closer.

She moved against him, just slightly, and that was it. That was all it took for him to snap.

Felix groaned against her lips and stood up with her in his arms, gripping her thighs as he lifted her effortlessly.

Y/N gasped, instinctively wrapping her legs around his waist.

His mouth found her neck, hot and open-mouthed, sucking lightly as he carried her across the room.

Then he sat down on the edge of his bed with her still in his lap, their bodies tangled together, their kisses turning even more feverish.

Y/N felt her head spin, her entire body buzzing. The heat, the tension—it was overwhelming, consuming, everything.

And as Felix’s hands started to roam again, his lips trailing down her jaw, she knew she was completely, utterly gone.

She looked out of his window, her breath still uneven. The view was breathtaking—golden sand stretching along the australian coast, the waves rolling gently under the soft evening light. The ocean breeze might have cooled her flushed skin if not for the real reason her body was burning.

Felix.

The boy with sun-kissed skin and a wicked smile, trailing kisses along her neck, hands gripping her waist like he never wanted to let go.

Life could be so unfairly beautiful.

She glanced down at him, and when he looked up at her, their eyes locked—electricity humming between them, He kissed her again, this time guiding her hips against him, making sure she felt everything.

A soft moan slipped past her lips.

The friction—the rough denim pressing right where she needed it—was almost too much. And him—hard and heavy against her—there was no mistaking how much he wanted this too.

Felix pulled back just enough to cup her chin, tilting her face up so she had no choice but to look at him. His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, his voice rough and unwavering.

“Take my jeans off,” he murmured. “They’re ruined anyway.”

She nodded, slipping off his lap, her fingers trembling as she worked open his belt.

“Good girl.”

Heat rushed to her face. If she wasn’t already DRENCHED with need, she definitely was now.

He lifted his hips to help her slide his jeans down, kicking them aside. And then—God. Even through his boxers, she could see everything.

Y/N swallowed, her breath hitching as she pressed a kiss to the sharp cut of his hip. Then another, lower this time.

Felix’s jaw clenched.

She bit down on the waistband of his boxers, dragging them down with just her teeth before helping with her hands.

His breath caught.

Her eyes widened.

Fuck.

Every thought in her head evaporated. How was he so perfect? She felt lightheaded, her body thrumming with an almost painful desperation. She wanted to taste him, wanted to feel every inch of him against her tongue, wanted to—

Before she could act on it, Felix caught her chin again, forcing her gaze back to him. His thumb brushed her lips, a smirk playing at his own.

“As much as I’d love to watch you do that,” he murmured, voice dripping with something dark and wrecked, “I need to be inside you more.”

Oh.

She didn’t need to be told twice.

She climbed back onto his lap in an instant, and Felix wasted no time, pulling her into a kiss so deep it stole whatever air she had left.

Then he lifted her, turning, laying her down on the bed with an effortless strength that made her shiver.

Her dress was the next thing to go—torn from her body in one swift motion, tossed somewhere behind him. It landed over his gaming setup, covering his screen completely, but neither of them cared.

Not when he was looking at her like that.

She tugged at his tank top, eager to feel more of him. Felix pulled it over his head and tossed it aside, baring golden skin, freckles and sculpted muscles that tensed under her touch.

God. He really was unreal.

She pressed her lips to his again, a slow, deep kiss that sent heat rolling through her body. His hands slid down her waist, over her hips, before gripping her thighs, massaging the soft flesh as he spread them wider.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he murmured against her lips.

She let out a breathy chuckle. “Says you, you literal greek god.” no way she just said that out loud.

Felix laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. “What??”

“Nothing—just—” She bit her lip. “Kiss me again, please.”

He didn’t need to be told twice.

Their lips met again, hungrier this time, heat pressing in on all sides. But just as Felix deepened the kiss, she pulled back slightly, breathless. “Condom.”

Felix exhaled sharply, then pushed himself up. Y/N sat up on her elbows, watching as he reached for his jeans.

Her gaze flicked down, and then—

“Oh, you can’t be serious,” she teased, eyes narrowing playfully. “And I’M the vixen? You literally had the condom prepared!”

Felix pulled it from his back pocket with an unapologetic smirk. “Yeah…?”

Her breath caught as she looked at him in the dim moonlight filtering through his window. The soft glow traced over every inch of his body—his toned chest, his small waist, the sharp lines of his hips. He looked like something carved out of marble, like a god out of an ancient myth, too perfect to be real.

And then her gaze dropped lower.

Oh.

Heat pooled between her thighs at the sight of him—thick, hard, so perfectly proportioned that her legs instinctively pressed together.

Felix climbed back onto the bed, settling between her thighs, the condom placed beside her as he ran his fingers up her inner thigh, teasingly close to where she needed him most. His lips found hers again, slower this time, more teasing than urgent. His fingers barely brushed over her clit, and she gasped against his mouth.

“You’re not a virgin, right?” he murmured, his voice low.

She shook her head slightly, heart hammering in her chest. No, she wasn’t. But her first time had been forgettable at best, disappointing at worst. She had never even come with that guy.

Felix’s fingers pressed more firmly now, circling her clit with slow, deliberate strokes. A soft whimper escaped her lips as her hips instinctively tilted up, chasing his touch.

“God, you’re so wet already,” he murmured, dragging his lips down to her jaw. “Can’t wait to fuck you.”

A sharp inhale hitched in her throat as he slipped two fingers inside her, the stretch making her walls flutter. His pace was perfect—just slow enough to tease, just deep enough to make her legs tremble.

She moaned against his lips, gripping the back of his neck and pulling him into another desperate kiss.

Felix groaned into her mouth, fingers curling just right, sending a shiver through her whole body. And then—he pulled them out.

A needy sound of protest left her, but before she could complain, he brought his fingers to his lips and licked them clean, eyes locked on hers the entire time.

Y/N’s breath stuttered.

Holy. Fuck.

Felix smirked at her expression, reaching for the condom with one hand while the other wrapped around himself, stroking slowly. He ripped the wrapper open with his teeth, sliding the condom over his length with practiced ease.

She swallowed hard, pulse racing as she let her legs fall open for him.

Felix leaned down again, one hand bracing beside her head, the other sliding up her thigh.

“You ready, gorgeous?”

“I guess I’ll have to keep breaking laptops in the future,” she whispered, voice breathless.

Felix let out a low chuckle, but it was cut short as he lined himself up and pushed in.

Y/N’s breath hitched—her fingers clutching at the sheets, her head falling back against his pillows as the stretch sent a shiver up her spine.

“Fuck,” she whimpered.

Felix groaned at the feeling of her around him, tight and warm, squeezing him just right. He leaned over her, his hand wrapping loosely around her throat, his thumb pressing just enough to make her focus on him.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice deep and commanding.

She blinked up at him, her cheeks flushed, her lips parted in a moan.

“There you are,” he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips before pulling out just enough—then thrusting back in, slow and deep.

Y/N let out a sharp gasp, her nails digging into his back.

Felix picked up his pace, each thrust hitting deep, his name spilling from her lips in broken syllables. His hands moved to her breasts, teasing her nipples with his fingers before lowering his mouth to flick his tongue over them, sucking just hard enough to make her back arch off the bed.

“Felix—”

“I got you, baby,” he whispered against her skin.

He sat back on his knees, gripping her thighs as he lifted them higher, pressing them flush against his chest. The new angle made her cry out—he reached even deeper now, his thrusts sharper, rougher.

She writhed under him, her nails leaving faint red trails on his arms as he drove her closer to the edge.

“Fuck, you take me so well,” he groaned, watching the way she trembled beneath him.

Y/N clenched around him at his words, and he cursed under his breath before gripping her hips and flipping her onto her stomach.

She barely had time to process the shift before he pulled her hips up, pressing a hand against her lower back to keep her in place as he slid back inside.

Her fingers curled into the sheets as he started moving again, this time slower, deeper, making sure she felt every inch of him.

“You’re so fucking perfect,” he murmured, running his hands over her waist, down to her ass, before delivering a teasing slap that sent a jolt of pleasure through her.

Y/N moaned into the pillows, her body melting under his touch.

“You like that?” he smirked, giving her another slow, hard thrust with a slap.

“Yes—please don’t stop,” she gasped.

Felix leaned over her back, pressing a kiss between her shoulder blades.

“Oh, my gorgeous girl”

Y/N’s fingers curled around his sheets, her moans growing louder as he reached even deeper inside her, hitting spots that made her body shake. One of his hands moved to her front, fingers finding her clit and rubbing slow, teasing circles that made her nearly collapse against the bed.

Felix leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “I want you to come for me, baby,” he whispered, his voice sending a wave of heat straight to her core.

Her body tensed as pleasure built rapidly, her moans turning into desperate whimpers. Felix didn’t let up, his movements precise and relentless until she finally unraveled, a shuddering moan ripping from her throat.

Felix groaned at the feeling of her tightening around him, his thrusts growing sloppier as he chased his own release. With a few more deep strokes, he buried himself inside her, letting out a guttural moan as he reached his high.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their breaths mingling in the thick summer air. Y/N collapsed against the sheets, her body still trembling, while Felix pressed lazy kisses along her shoulder, his arm wrapping around her waist to keep her close.

“You,” he murmured against her skin, “are a fucking menace.”

She let out a breathless giggle, turning her head to look at him. “I did warn you I’d keep breaking laptops.”

Felix chuckled, pressing a final kiss to her cheek before pulling her snug against his chest. “Yeah, but now I think you’re just looking for excuses to come back.”

She smirked, biting her lip as she traced patterns on his arm. “Maybe.”

He grinned, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. “No need for excuses, baby. You can come over anytime you want.”

And she definitely planned to.

────୨ৎ────

Y/N stirred as the morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room. She felt something heavy draped over her waist and realized it was Felix’s arm, pulling her flush against his chest. His face was nestled against her neck, his breath slow and steady, tickling her skin.

A soft kiss pressed to her shoulder made her shiver. “Morning, gorgeous,” Felix murmured, his voice still thick with sleep.

She turned in his embrace, meeting his sleepy gaze. His freckles stood out more in the morning light, and his messy hair only made him look even softer.

“Morning,” she whispered, smiling when he nuzzled into her neck again, pressing lazy kisses up to her jaw.

Felix sighed in pure contentment. “I don’t think I wanna let you leave.”

Y/N giggled, running her fingers through his hair. “You kinda have to at some point. I do have a life outside your bed, you know.”

He hummed against her skin before propping himself up on one elbow, his other hand trailing up and down her back. His touch was slow, almost reverent.

“I gotta take you out on a real date now,” he said suddenly, looking at her like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

She raised an eyebrow. “Now you wanna take me on a date? After all that?”

Felix smirked, pressing another kiss to her lips, slow and deep. “I like to do things backwards, apparently. But yeah, I do.” He brushed a strand of hair from her face. “What do you say? Let me take you somewhere nice.”

Y/N pretended to think for a moment, though the giddy feeling in her chest betrayed her. “Hmm… only if there’s food involved.”

Felix laughed, giving her hip a playful squeeze. “Done deal, baby.”

They lay there a little longer, tangled in each other, trading kisses and whispers, until Y/N finally had to slip out of bed and gather her things. Felix watched her with a soft smile, only letting her go when she promised she’d see him again soon.

────୨ৎ────

By the time she stepped into her shared apartment with Seungmin, she was still floating on cloud nine. That was, until—

“YOU REALLY HAD SEX WITH HIM, YOU NAUGHTY GIRL!”

Y/N shrieked as Seungmin’s voice practically shattered the walls. He was standing in the hallway, mouth agape, pointing at her wrinkled dress and thoroughly ruined hair.

“Shut up!” she hissed, slapping a hand over his mouth, but he just muffled something against her palm before pulling away, eyes still wide in terror.

#felix #felix stray kids #felix x reader #felix yongbok #lee felix #skz felix #lee felix smut #stray kids

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dilf-docs · 6 months ago

Text

So Is it Your Place Or Mine?

bfd!joel miller x younger!reader

summary: summer is over, but your affair with joel isn't (or, you grind on joel's belt buckle while sarah is at soccer practice)

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap, smut, p. in v., exhibition kink (sarah is again a victim of this), brat taming (this two are soo into it), degradation kink, praise kink, lwk breeding kink, daddy kink (wow! it's a whole library of alexandria of kinks in here), fingering, dad bod!joel (best joel you mean), angst (oh guys look oh no it's alr starting), dirty talk!!!!! (they're so dirty ew i want it too wait who said that)

word count: 3,701 words

side note: and it became officially a series. hope u all are into this as much as i am because it's my first series ever !!!!! ALSO angst finally makes it way in this mess LET'S GO (i'mcrying i really looked up big texas belt to come up with a mental image in the middle of class, i'm so sorry to whoever sat behind me but idc abt me writing smut while at uni; we die like real men)

part: prev | masterlist | next

"What do you mean you're not coming?"

It's been an unspoken rule that, even if you hate sports and the ball stays ten meters away from you, you always come to Sarah's soccer practice, cheering for her from your usual spot at the benches.

Except today, you aren't there. And now Sarah is calling you when she shouldn't, but that she doesn't know.

"I can't. I have stuff to work on stuff"

Bullshit.

Your laptop and the half-written essay sit untouched at the coffee table. The thing being touched in question, is something entirely different.

"Need help?"

His hands grip any free spot of your glistening skin, sucking on the rosy pink until it turns maroon red.

"I'm at my dorm, sorry"

Double bullshit.

Sarah doesn't even know your car is parked next to her dad's truck. She has about four hours to find out.

"I can drop by later then" she suggests.

His hot breath tingles against your neck as his nose caresses the spot. Bad girl, he mouths, like he wasn't the one who told you to pick up, despite his daughter's name on the caller's ID. You try to reach for a kiss, but his digits press on your hair, pulling you back with violence to forbid your lips from touching his. Bad girl, and your arousal drips with more intensity at the remark. Bad girl.

"No!" the answer comes quick, your voice strained, and Sarah jokes that you should take it easy with your classes, instead of suspecting anything else.

"Fine! I won't go if you don't want me to, but if you show up dead by stress, I'll be free of guilt"

He kisses the outline of your jaw with sloppy movements, like he just wants to busy himself while Sarah blabbers about the practice, and you keep trying to make her stop, but she tells you not to worry, that she's on a break right now, and the task to avoid whimpering at his rough kisses across your neck becomes increasingly difficult. A gasp escapes your lips when his teeth sink into your flesh. Mine, not to be said but to be felt. Seen by the rest. A pretty red that tastes like the blood he craves, the hunger akin to violence. Bad girl, and he's biting your lip to stop any other filthy noises from escaping. What if she hears?

"Are you okay?" concern laced on Sarah's tone. Guilt creeps through the cracks of the worn-out paint of his bedroom, one your friend had practically begged him to restore; the joke of it all was that was about his job yet he couldn't fix his own goddamn house. "Y/n, did you hurt yourself?"

I'm treating you well, ain't I, doll? and then he'd grin against the crook of your neck before looking at you, his dark blown-wide pupils gazing at you with a hunger you didn't think it was possible. They'd burn, and the fire didn't scare you: it was the warm your cold body needed. Tell Sarah her daddy ain't hurting her slut of a friend.

"I-I'm fine" you manage to choke out. Good girl.

Joel's lids feel heavy as a crown. But you like 'em rough, don't 'cha, baby?

"Should I worry?"

Joel pulls harder, your scalp burning at the harsh tug. Answer when I ask. You breathe in heavily, and Sarah keeps on asking you if you're okay, threatening to burst through a dorm door she'll find empty.

"N-no" you meekly answer, and he laughs at your demeanor. Under his weight, pinned down on the mattress, there's nowhere to run to.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Sarah I need to hang, okay? My head hurts. Bye" it all comes down in a rush, the words a vomit of excuses. You make sure the call has ended, and so does Joel, that in an act of mercy, has stopped. You both look the screen until the lockscreen is back up again, a picture of you and Sarah. Despite used to having his weight on top of you, your throat feels constricted.

"Do you want to traumatize your daughter, Mr. Miller?"

He's back at his task of kissing, making you moan and writhe at the sensitivity of your kissed and bit skin during the last hour. You hate how he takes his time―edging you; unbearable.

"What I want is you"

The lie comes out effortlessly from his teeth. He wants you, needs you, but does he really want you? His daughter's best friend, the college girl he was going to lecture just last summer―to live life and forget about him, yet couldn't. He lies to himself, saying he didn't because you felt asleep, but feeling a warm body next to him, being your beautiful frame of all people, made it hard.

The way he makes a moaning mess out of you, how he knows every spot of your body no one had been able to please before, how your cunt stretches perfectly around his cock, how you call his name like no one else had done. It belongs to you now, and this is a vice.

It's like he's got a wound, and you're the only balm that can soothe the pain. But the effect is temporary, and after you leave, he always finds himself wanting more.

The doubt on his eyes has your heart beating out of fear.

"Then have me, Mr. Miller" you dare.

When Joel smiles, barely noticeable, something flutters in your stomach.

"Al'ight, impatient one. We have sum hours until Sarah's back. Spread" his hand nudges your thighs apart, and you oblige, making Joel chuckle at your obedience. "Good girl, baby. S'good f'r me"

You let out a gentle moan at the praise, and he smirks at your reaction.

"Feelin' desperate, are we?" he taunts, seeing your pretty lips parted and face flushed, a whine escaping them.

"Shut the fuck up and just kiss me already" you beg, pussy throbbing painfully.

"Damn brat" he hisses, "ain't you such'a needy greedy slut?" his finger hooks on your panties, tugging you closer into him, your body rising to clash against his softer frame that has nothing to do with his rough demeanor. You can feel the bulge that has formed through his pants, making you moan in delight.

"Sorry, daddy. I'll be a good girl" you squirm under his weight, pouting lips and batting eyelashes. "Please, kiss me. Pretty please, daddy"

"Jus' cus you asked well" but he knows it's an excuse to capture your sweet lips until he's tasted all of you. You once heard old men kiss like they want to devour every inch of your mouth, to make space for their tongue like it's going to live in there, and they were right.

He pulls away from the kiss to pull out his shirt, revealing his soft body. Your hands itch, immediatly reaching for it with wandering fingers. He chuckles at the eagerness, but then he catches the subtle adoration in your eyes, and his breath hitches, heart stopping.

"What's wrong?" you look up, and it's gone. Maybe he imagined it.

Joel doesn't know why he feels dissapointed by it.

He tries to push the thoughts back, head diving down between your breasts, leaving sloppy kisses and messy trails of saliva with his tongue on each one. He gives a special lick to your hardened nipples, making you squirm.

"Gonna bend y'r fuckin' sexy little body on this sheets. Gonna make you cum all'over, until y'r scent is'mpregnated on 'em"

You groan at his words, fingers pulling down the pajama shorts you brought over, revealing your pretty black laced lingerine.

"Fuck, baby. You wore 'em for me?" he's asking, and you'd be crazy if you think the tone reveals devotion. Is Joel even capable of warmth?

He leaves a new trail of kisses, this time, running from your neck to your stomach.

"Gonna make you scream my name 'til that's the only thin' you know how to say" his hot breath tingles over your abdomen. He buries his face in there, the mustache and scruffy graying hair tickling the skin. "Gon' give you such'a load, this flat stomach of yours will be bustin' with my seed"

You whine at his filthy words, mouth agape slightly. He looks at your soaked panties, arousal on clear display now. Joel's cock twitches in the confines of his jeans.

He lets out a low growl. "Look at you, such'a slut for me. Drippin' wet like a fuckin' whore and desperate, when I ain't even touch you"

To prove so, Joel teasingly runs his fingers along your inner thigh, dangerously close to your soaking core.

He pulls your underwear down, taking them off.

"M'gonna fuck you real good, baby" his fingers dig on your thighs for support, the burning sensation of his calloused digits on your soft skin delicious. "Gon' take care of what's mine"

Mine.

The words ring loud and clear. The only other noise to be heard is his lips leaving wet sounds against your thighs. Does Joel even realize what he said? Or was it in the heat of the moment?

No, wait. Stop. Why do you care?

He begins to rub circles in your clit, coating his fingers in your dripping arousal, prodding the tense needy hole, making you moan in desperation.

"Please, daddy" your lips cry as you beg for him to do anything to remove the pain in between your legs.

"Please, what?" Joel teases, voice raspy. He keeps prodding your center, his digits in and out in a gentle manner, contrasting his hard hold on your thigh. You squirm and whine at the sensation, but maybe it's the dark on his eyes that's really responsable for making you shrink under his gaze. "Think 'm doin' this for ya'? To please ya'? No, baby" he tuts, "you were a bad girl. Almost got caught"

"If you didn't make me answer" you seethe, a moan almost escaping your lips when his fingers hit that sweet spot of yours. "Maybe if you didn't, she wouldn't-"

Joel removed his fingers from you, and you reduce to a moaning mess, begging for the release you were chasing and now it's lost.

"But you wanted'er to know, didn't ya'?" he unbuckles his belt and fumbles with his worn-out jeans, revealing a barely concealed neediness on his side. "Wanted'er to know where 'er slut of a friend was: at daddy's house, beggin' for his dick like a cockhungry slut"

"I-I want it. Want you dick" you barely choke out, lips parted at the sight of his pulsating dick's silhouette under his brief.

"Then take it, hungry one"

His tip buries deeply into your cunt before you even speak again, sliding inside in one swift motion. You gasp, as he fills you up completely, because despite the way your cunt stretches for him, or the way you have had his dick and need it, his girth never fails to amaze you.

"D-daddy" you moan, walls stretching to accommodate his size. Your sweet arousal drips down your thighs, coating Joel's balls. Fuck, doesn't he love to see you squirming under him. He's never had a woman like you before, wrapped around his finger. You may be a girl, but God, you feel so much better around his dick than anyone else: your cunt tenses around his cock deliciously, his dick twitching when he takes a look at your legs shaking and fucked out state.

"That's it, pretty girl. Beg for'it"

His words go straight to your core as you moan. "Please. Let me take all of you, Joel, please"

You said his name. Fuck. He shouldn't be this aroused, but the way you say it like that's the only thing you know, like it means something more, it makes his dick throb and heart sting. That he, Joel Miller, old bitter man, single dad, could mean more to a young pretty girl like you.

"Fuck" he grunts, grabbing a handful of your hair as he begins to pull out slowly, plunging inside of you with harsh movements. The sound of skin clapping is obscene as he begins to fuck you mercilessly. "Ain't you a noisy lil' thing, huh? You like that, baby? You like it rough?"

Your voice comes out shaky. "Y-yes, daddy. F-fuck, just like that. I like it a l-lot"

"Good girl" he grins satisfied with your respone, his thrusts getting rougher and messier. "Lookin' s'pretty with my dick's inside of you"

Joel changes angles without telling you, brushing your g-spot. A noise so loud and vulgar comes out of your parted lips, and you feel ashamed.

But then he's brushing a strand of hair from your face, with a delicacy you've seen reserved for his daughter only. It feels weird, and you try that it doesn't distract you from your looming orgasm.

"Joel..." you breath out his name.

"Yes?" with everything coming out of his mouth: possesiveness, neediness, pleasure. Like he'd give you the world if you just ask, despite telling himself he wouldn't.

"K-keep going"

Your gaze bores into his eyes with an intensity that almost makes him stop. Because the words are simple, but Joel's been alive enough on this Earth to know it doesn't mean just that.

Keep going. Don't stop. Don't end this. Don't let me go.

"Whatever m'princess asks if she asks 'em nice"

You scream in pleasure as his thrusts become deeper, his balls slapping against your cunt, as your slick begins to run down your thighs. Joel thinks he's going crazy at the way your folds take him, how tight you feel, and the loud noises you make, begging him to fuck you harder, to use you. Every thrust pushes you closer to the edge, writhing under his touch as you begin to see stars.

"You close, aren't ya'?" he laughs, but it's devoid of mockery. A subtle softness hides behind them. Ask nicely, and I shall give. "Gon' cream 'round my dick like a good girl, right?"

His digits dig in the flesh of your hips, guiding himself to fuck you harder, for you to take him better, caging your body under the sheets, pushing you even closer to your orgasm. You mewl loudly, tears in the corner of your eyes at the delicious burn.

If you told yourself a year ago you'd be crying over Joel Miller's dick, of all people, you'd probably laugh. But no college boys had been able to please you, less bring you to tears as you reach your orgasm. This is heaven, and you aren't ready to say goodbye to the paradise you found in summer just yet.

Your core tenses around him, body so close to finishing, hair a mess, eyes brimming with tears, and lips spilling the filthiest sounds ever heard to humankind. It's heaven, and Joel isn't ready to give it up just yet. Your pussy throbs, and as your juices mix as one, you roll your eyes and head back, your high approaching, knot in your stomach tightening faster. Before you can register, your mind goes blank and you're seeing stars.

You come around his cock, coating it in your arousal as Joel admires how you cream his member, tight walls almost pushing him out of you. He groans at your simmering cries, some tears coming out of your eyes.

"What'e fuckin' slut, baby. You sure are somethin' else" he chuckles, his thrusts messier by his own high approaching. "Wait for me, yeah, baby?"

You humm, as he buries deep into you, filling you up completely, as his hips stop their harsh movements when he feels the tension in his abdomen release.

"Fuckin' sweet" he uses a finger to clean some of the slick that's run down your leg. "Good girl"

He licks them off in an obscene display, making sure to never break contact.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna become a real bad girl" you taunt.

Then he pulls out of you carefully, doing his best not to spill too much of his load from your cunt. He grabs one of the corners of his sheets, cleaning some of his seed from your thighs. Joel should be careful, but all his foggy mind can muster is you being his in every way he can. Making you his. Mine. Mine. Mine. You plead him not to do that, but he argues laundry day is soon and he likes it better when it smells like you anyway. You confess with a cute light blush in your cheeks that you do the same when he comes over to fuck you in your dorm, sleeping better when the covers smell like him. He shouldn't feel like this: like it could be. But he allows himself to, even for an instant.

"Oh, yeah?" he pants, "what you gon' do?"

Your eyes travel to his jeans and untied buckle he hadn't wasted time taking off, rather just pulling them down.

"I have something in mind..." you wander off, remembering filthy thoughts of your first night together, how you briefly thought about it. "I-" you cut off, blushing furiously.

"Yes?" he holds your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him as his rough fingers press on the skin. "Remember what I told ya', baby? To ask nicely? 'Cause you said you'd be a good girl, so be one and tell daddy what'd ya' want"

You gulp, trying to hold his gaze. You never back down. You never back down. But the intensity of the shinning copper makes that insufferable character of yours to be tamed, boiling against the surface but just scratching, all screams lost. Is like he knows this power over you, acting on it with a benevolence so sick, it has you thinking loving Joel Miller isn't impossible.

You never back down, but being with Joel feels like walking over stones, always thinking about the next step and the ones that were, ghosts of the lingering doubts and afterthoughts behind every step you take. It's like there's a river below them, washing away regret.

But you're still here: water up your knees then and now over your head.

You're barely floating. You'd be willing to drown anyway.

"I want to ride your belt buckle"

There's silence in the other side, until its met with a light chuckle.

"Yeah?" Joel keeps on laughing, his eyebrows raised in disbelief. "S'that what that filthy head of yours be thinkin' on?"

"Stop it" you groan, covering your hot face with your palms. You wish you could erase that ugly smirk off his face. "I'm never telling you anything again, ever"

"Now c'mon, baby. I was jus' messin' 'round" his tone adquires a soft edge to it, tender warm hands removing yours from your face. "Don't cover your face, baby. You're too goddam pretty" you blush, and Joel better resist the urge to kiss you just for the sake of kissing you. "I didn't mean to make fun of ya'. You know y'can tell me anythin' that's goin' inside that head of yours"

"Then you'll let me?" your pretty eyes look up to him, shinning like the stars of the summer night sky months ago.

He can't deny you anything, and a small crack of fear wounds his impenetrable heart.

"Get'ere you filthy slut"

You eagerly climb onto his lap as he sits against the beds headboard, your thighs pushing against his belly.

"Now" he tries to put in a more comfortable position, his tired joints creaking. He avoids your gaze, coughing over his blush. "You do all the job, baby. I ain't gonna help you, this greedy pussy took all of my energy"

You giggle, moving until your bare pussy clashes against the cold. A shiver runs down your spine, the dried juices moistening again over the metal piece. His hands move to your hips, hands now soft as they hold you, and he seems unsure of it, both of your breaths coming out ragged.

"You said you weren't gonna help" you chuckle, wrapping your arms around his neck. His face feels closer, and you can see lines time has marked across his features. "But thanks, daddy"

His heart takes a dangerous leap.

"'Course, baby" he smiles. "You know I spoil ya' too damn much"

You begin to roll your hips, sliding your pussy over the cold material, your arousal making a wet slick sound that bounces off the walls, a shiver down your back as you feel your slick already coating the front of it and the top of his jeans.

"Mmm, can't say no to me, can you, baby?" you mock, rocking your hips back and forth. A shaky breath escapes your parted lips, and Joel feels his renovated dick spring hard. You moan, your ass barely touching his now tense member.

"Quit runnin' that mouth of y'rs, baby" his digits dig on your skin, "or I'll bend ya' over again"

"Sorry, daddy" you feel the metal star on the middle digging inside your pussy, the borders of the imprint brushing your leaking cunt in a pleasant way. "I promise to be good"

"Do" he grunts, "you're runnin' out of time, doll"

You close your eyes, movements more quick and erratic, little moans leaving your body as you groan.

"Tell me how this lil' experiment of yours feelin', baby"

"F-feels good, daddy. Fuck" you groan, lifting your hips a bit as you grind yourself down across the material. "So so good, daddy. Thank you, daddy"

"Mmm, that's right. Now be a good girl and come for me. Let me see that pretty face of yours when ya' come over ma' belt"

You let out a shaky breath, juices spilling over his jeans even as you see stars. He chuckles, enamoured at the sight.

"You gonna need help with that?" you point out his boner.

Oh, aren't you a doll? So kind-hearted.

"That's okay" he breathes out, tiredly. He thinks of the next trip to the bathroom, the image of what he'll fuck himself to clear now.

You smile at him, for the first time forgetting this started as a blowing-off-steam-time or transaction.

For a moment, it feels like it could be.

"Jus' seein' you cum all over me so prettily is'nough, baby"

credits: divider @kodaswrld / gif @loregifs

#dilfistwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel miller angst #bfd!joel miller #bfd!joel #tlou #tlou fanfiction #to the devil i know series

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evie-sturns · 1 year ago

Text

overstimulated - Matt Sturniolo

summary: where you overstimulate matt to the point where he can’t walk anymore.

contains: smut, sub!matt, overstimulation, slight humiliation, mocking, teasing, use of safe word.

————————————🎀————————————-

i don’t even know how matt and i got in this position, but right now i’m sitting on his lap, pinning him down as his erection pokes into my thigh.

“please?” he whispers shakily, his pale cheeks a cherry red.

i trace my fingers along the waistband of his sweatpants, earning a soft whimper from him.

he’s been desperately horny this whole day, constantly clinging to me, but i’ve been too busy.

i slowly rock my hips against the clear bulge on his lap, my clothed cunt rubbing against his sweatpants.

his head tips back, “oh god- don’t do this to me” he sighs

“dont do what?” i grin, reaching my hand down and tracing the outline of his dick through his pants.

“you know- ‘m gonna cum in my pants if you keep doing that” he says barely above a whisper.

“that would be pathetic, wouldn’t it sweetheart?” i say, cupping matt’s jaw and making him look up at me.

he nods, squeezing his eyes shut. i wrap my warm hand around his dick through his pants, squeezing lightly.

“oh my fuck-“ he whines, rutting his hips up into my hands.

he clutches the bedsheets beside him with his veiny hands, trying to resist his movements.

“look at you, all whiny, don’t even have your dick out yet.” i scoff, matt nods frantically,

“-‘m sorry!!” his breathing picks up.

i feel his dick twitch in my hand as i continue to rub the fabric over it, before a loud groan escapes his red lips, raw from being bitten.

and he finishes in his pants.

a large damp patch is obvious right under my hand as matt’s hands cover his embarrassed face.

i let out a small laugh, “poor thing.”

he shakes his head, “i couldn’t help it, i really tried!” he states with a small pout.

“yeah? now your gonna be sensitive for the rest of this.” i say, matt’s eyes widen

“what- more?” he breathes,

“you thought we were done?” i taunt him, pulling my shirt off of my body.

i reach down for his pink shirt, text lays across the fabric saying ‘i need a kiss’.

i tug it off of him, laying it on the matress beside us.

goosebumps travel up his skin from the cold air as he looks up at me with pleading eyes.

i stand up off his lap and tug down my pyjama shorts, leaving me fully revealed for him.

his eyes roam over my body.

“you’re so pretty.” he sighs, clutching the sheets beside him again.

i smile at him before crawling back onto his lap, i look down infront of me, he’s hard again.

i tug down his sweatpants to his thighs, before pausing my movements.

his eyebrows furrow, i just sit comfortably on his lap, waiting for him to start begging.

he fidgets with his short nails as he avoids eye contact,

he’s never usually this submissive, quite the opposite, i guess he’s not used to having to wait.

“please?” he finally speaks up, his voice husky.

“please what.” i reply instantly.

he bucks his hips up slightly, his dick hitting my stomach.

i push his stomach down, placing him back on the bed.

“use your words.” i tell him, staring into his eyes.

he shakes his head, “that’s embarrasing-“ he starts, but i instantly cut him off.

“if it’s so embarrassing then i’ll leave you here, all needy and nobody will be here to get you off, would you like that?”

he shakes his head, “no- no! i just.. ‘just need you!”

“matt that’s not clear enough, tell me exactly what you want from me.” my voice is stern, seeing how far i can push him.

“i want you on- on my dick.” he speaks quietly,

“yeah? then what.” i reply,

“then- then i want you to ride me.” he says, his eyes travelling everywhere but mine.

i run my hand through his hair, “there we go, wasn’t so hard to use your words wasn’t it?”

he nods,

i grab his jaw, “i want you to keep looking at me okay?” my tone is softer now,

i take his length in my hand and pump his cock a few times.

“oh-“ he stammers, maintaining eye contact with me the whole time through his squinted eyes.

his hair sticks to his forehead, and his abs tense.

i run my thumb over his tip, he gasp lightly, gripping the sheets harder.

“you’re doing so well, so good for me.” i praise him, continuing to run my hand up and down his length, squeezing slightly as i go higher up.

“thank- thank you-“ he squeezes out breathlessly.

his legs shake slightly as his orgasm comes on, spurts of white hit his stomach.

his jaw hangs open slightly as he lets out strings of moans.

i don’t waste time to sit up properly, hovering myself above his sensitive tip.

i run his cock through my folds, his eyes spring open. “i can’t! ‘m to sensitive-“ he pleads,

“i know you can do it for me matt,” i whisper with a warm smile.

he shakes his head, his hands find their way to my bare hips, he grips tightly for dear life.

i slowly sink down onto his dick, a strained groan escapes his lips as he digs his finger nails into the plush of my skin.

“i’m gonna cum too soon, that’s- that’s embarrassing” he stammers, squirming slightly on the mattress.

“that’s okay, you’re okay matt” i assure him through sharp breathes as i continue to bounce on his cock.

the sound of skin slapping along with matt’s strangled whimpers fill the room, his eyes are scrunched shut and his brunette locks are messily laid across his flushed face.

my pace picks up, matt sinks his top teeth into his bottom lip in a desperate attempt to silence his pathetic noises.

“so close already? you already came twice tonight.” i scoff, which tips matt over the edge

his legs judder as his back arches off the bed.

he frantically grips the pillows beside him as he finishes, his warm seed coating my insides.

i don’t stop riding him, chasing my own orgasm.

he winces with pained moans, “too much! too much-“ his voice cracks.

i don’t stop, matt knows we have a safe word.

he shifts himself below me, his arms twisting as he tries to squirm under me.

“s-stop- stop i’m too- too sensitive!” he squeezes out.

i shake my head, strings of groans exiting my mouth as i clench around him, signalling my upcoming orgasm.

“red- red” the safe word falls from his mouth, making my heart skip a beat.

i instantly pull off of him, my juices coating his dick, even dripping onto his pelvis.

i look at matt, a few tears roll down his cheeks.

my eyes widen, “hey- hey don’t cry, i’m sorry sweetheart are you okay?” i ask, flopping down ontop of him and wrapping my arms around him.

“no- i’m fine just intense, i-i’m not sad or anything” he says shakily with a small laugh.

“i’m sorry baby.” i say, squeezing his waist tight as i hug him.

“don’t apologise- tha-that was so hot.” he mutters.

i hover above his tear stained face, i reach my hands down and wipe away his tears.

“i promise i’m not crying- just sensitive.” he laughs, i giggle in response before standing up off of him.

i look down at him on the bed,

what a sight.

i clench my thighs together as i look down at him, he’s flopped messily across the matress, his arms and legs sprawled out different directions.

his face is a deep red, and his hair is stuck to his sweaty face. his lips are raw and bright red,

and finally he’s coated in his release, white streaks painted across his tummy and chest.

i just admire him, “jesus fuck- matt you don’t understand what you’re doing to me right now.” i whisper

he smiles in response,

“can- can i please take a polaroid of you?” i ask shyly, “just for me to keep.” i follow up.

he grins with an eyebrow quirk, “finnneee…”

i clap before running over to my closet and pulling out my polaroid camera,

i stand at the edge of the bed, matt gives me a tired smile and thumbs up, i snap the picture.

“thank you-“ i say with a small laugh, he rolls his eyes with a smirk.

“cmon, let’s get you nice and cleaned up.” i say to matt,

he nods with a small hum, followed by a massive yawn,

“you’re so tired sweetheart.” i laugh,

“how could i not beee..” he whines,

“i’m just teasing you.” i smile, grabbing his hand and tugging him up

he stands up on his feet before stumbling over, his legs basically jelly.

he flops backwards onto the bed,

“can you seriously not stand up straight.” i ask with a giggle.

“no- no i can!” he protests, heaving himself back up off the bed, but his shaky legs instantly give out.

i erupt into laughter,

“oh my god!! i’m gonna use that forever! imagine me telling people that i took away matt sturniolos ability to walk”

he covers his face with his hands as he laughs uncontrollably with me,

“you’re so insanely stupid” he giggles,

“tell that to me when you can stand up!!”

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#sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo x you #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo smut

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ditzydoe444 · 6 months ago

Text

MDNI 18+

size difference jason! smut

it was no secret that jason was big. he was tall and muscular from training, where the thickness of his thighs were obvious when he sat down and the bulge of his biceps strained against the thin material of his shirt, they were easily the size of your head.

he loved to use the size difference against you. the way he could easily pick you up, his large hands encircling your whole waist as he lifted you up, twirling you around like you weighed nothing.

or how he would be your own personal pillow during cuddling sessions whilst watching a movie, you were like a human ice block so you would use him as a personal heater.

or the way you would just drown in his clothes when you would borrow them, the sleeves going way past your hand and his hoodie going to your knees.

though, the small wholesome moments weren’t just all.

when he was big, he was big, and god did he use that to his advantage.

he would have you pressed down in a mating press whilst he drilled into your tight cunt like a machine, each of his trusts were hard, deep and precise. and you had to take it, because what else are you suppose to do when a 6’5 230lbs man is on top of you fucking you like an animal?

occasionally if you were squirming too much he would pin your hands above your head, where his pace would pick up, shifting the bed where the headboard was hitting against the wall.

“don’t even think about pushing me away,” he whispered in your ear, his breaths ragged and hot. you couldn’t even form coherent thoughts, your mind going blank and god he loved that.

“you there sweetheart?” he cooed teasingly, as he tilted your chin up, looking at his eyes. “or did i lose you again?” you shook your head, everything was too much you barely registered what he had said.

when the hand that was cupping your chin dropped and gripped your waist tightly, you couldn’t help but to gaze at the small tummy bulge in your stomach. the faint outline of him moving and completely obliterating your cunt.

you couldn’t help but let the tears roll down your cheek, the sensation was too much, he was hitting places so deep you would cum in a matter of a few minutes, but you knew better than that. last time you came too quickly and without his permission you were forced to repay it, where he abused your swollen folds without letting you come again.

the lewd sounds of you filled the room, with occasional grunts and curses coming from jason.

“jay, please” you whined, you couldn’t hold it in much longer, and he could tell by the way you were gripping onto his fat cock so tightly.

“just a little bit more,” he grunted, shifting positions slightly where he placed both of your legs on his shoulders as they had fallen off due to how limp you were going before. his thrusts were deeper and more animistic, making your head hit against the headboard slightly. the slickness of your cunt resulted in the room being filled with the make lewd sounds, where you already saw small damp patches on the inner part of his thigh.

“ok sweetheart, you got this,” he grunts, as he tries to coax you knowing how hard it was for you to fully let go and come. “i’ve got you,” he whispered, sweat dripping down his chest, his small silver chain that you had gifted him bouncing with his thrusts. you couldn’t help but to let out a small hopeless whine, and when he finally pinched the small swollen bundle of nerves you went completely limp from pleasure where he continued to drill into to for his own release.

he would fill you up to the brim, the white, hot, sticky mess leaking out. giving you an orgasm wasn’t the end of it. he would grin at the sight of your small cunt all filled up.

“can’t have it runnin’ away from you sweet thing can we?” he grinned before filling you back up again, coating his thick cock with the sticky mess. he would wipe your inner thigh with his fingers where some of the cum has gone to, before shoving it in your mouth, basically prying your mouth open. you couldn’t even make any noise apart from hopeless whines and moans, your breath ragged from his harsh thrust. the moment he shoved his thick long fingers down your throat you choked, saliva pooling your mouth.

“there we go sweet thing,” he cooed, thrusting as he kept one hand on your waist. “don’t waste a drop yeah?”

#jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x reader #jason todd #jason todd smut #red hood x reader #red hood smut #red hood #ch: jason #dc smut

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verysium · 2 years ago

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attractive things bllk characters (unintentionally) do?👀

i received this ask and decided to write this entire thing through a caffeine-powered fever dream. may have gone a little overboard. please pray for both your sanity and mine. thank you anon for your strong sense of imagination (or delusion, whichever you prefer.)

nagi lifts the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat off his face, and you accidentally (or not so accidentally) get a good look at the droplets running down his abs and v-line. he also does the doorway lean while waiting for you to get ready. since he's so tall, he puts his one arm up on the top of the door frame while scrolling through his phone. when he feels drained of energy, he clings to you like a koala, face buried into the crook of your neck.

rin pushes his hair back when his bangs get in the way, and it shows off his ridiculously sharp side profile. sometimes you have to pause mid-conversation because the direct eye contact gets too intense. he has the brightest turquoise eyes in existence, and they stare right into your soul. pair that with the height difference and him towering over you. hang onto your ovaries because this man is about to snatch them. if isagi or sae are anywhere remotely close within your vicinity, he will personally drag your chair closer over to him. you know, the whole nick jonas chair pull thing? he also unintentionally clenches his jaw when pissed, the vein popping out and everything.

barou is polite to his elders. he holds the door open for others. he tips extra at restaurants. he is kind to service workers. he's just a gentleman overall even though he likes to act tough. he rolls up his sleeves while cleaning or cutting up vegetables, and you can see the veins bulging in his forearms. wears those form-fitting aprons where you can see the outline of his waist and the muscles in his back. he is not immune to raging pit bull moments, but he will calm down immediately when you ask him to.

kaiser requires physical touch to function. all concept of personal boundaries goes poof in his little ego-driven brain. he holds your chin so you look up at him while he's talking. also has that husky growl when he wakes up in the morning. he speaks german. what else is more attractive than that? if you stroke his ego, he will puff his chest out like an emperor penguin and flash that movie star smile. does not slow down his pace for you, and will laugh at your expense when you trip in heels and fall. but then he feels guilty about it and begrudgingly picks you up and carries you home. however, before that he will make you swear on everything holy to never tell isagi about his moment of weakness. (tbh kaiser is a menace and has some serious self-esteem issues. pls avoid dating a man like him in real life until he is fully mature. i still love him tho.)

reo mansplains but not in the condescending way. he does so in the "omg i'm so excited to finally get to share something with you and you're never going to believe it" sort of way. rambles on and on about his interests and gets that little glint in his eye when he's passionate about something. also not sure if this counts but he gets extremely depressed when you don't message him back within five minutes. what do you mean you were busy? he was out here dying from a literal famine. he needs your affection to survive. last but not least, he is good at styling. he knows what colors work best for you, and he will put together three new looks for you in record time.

hiori dreams that you left him for good and wakes up crying with his arms around you. will refuse to let you leave the bed even if it is just to get a glass of water. his rare moments of emotional vulnerability are what gets to you.

shidou does not condone any of your bad decisions. you want to get shit-faced and party until early morning? no complaints from him. you want to wear sexy outfits to the club? say less because he's about to enjoy the view and knock out the front teeth of every guy who dares to ogle you. i don't know if this qualifies as being attractive, but he would never be the controlling type. you can dress and act however you want. unfortunately for you though, this is also a textbook case of the blind leading the blind. if you get horrendously hungover, so does he. if you get pulled over, he's going to be too blackout drunk to even comprehend the officer's words. you can count on him for a good time, but not anything else. do not take any of his advice at face value.

oliver likes to show you off even if he doesn't notice it himself. any talk with his team, and he will find a way to make the entire conversation about you. at this point, the entire u-20 team is done with him. they placed bets that you two wouldn't last more than a month due to his philandering reputation, but the universe seems to think otherwise because you and oliver hit the six-month mark and are still going strong.

ness guards your drink with an unnecessary amount of protection. while you left to go use the restroom, he was looking left and right, and the hairs on the back of his neck were prickling every time someone even came close to your cup. he also shoos away any person who opens their mouth while standing next to your drink because apparently the condensation from their breath could be dangerous. definitely covers your cup with both hands even if it has a lid. no suspicious shit is happening on his watch.

yukimiya is well-read, and he wears glasses. he has a copy of every single classic out there in existence and will fangirl along with you over your virginia woolf collection. he was written by a woman with two cats and a wine glass. not much else to say.

loki absolutely clears the entire carnival/arcade game. you want that giant teddy bear that costs over three hundred ticket points? say less because he's about to win the whole damn pot. of all characters, i would say he's one of the only green flags. like celery green.

isagi always looks for you when he enters the room. intentionally or not, he always seeks your presence. if someone says a funny joke, he turns to you to see if you're laughing or not. also does that somewhat creepy stare thing where he just looks at you quietly while you do mundane tasks. internally he is screaming cus what do you mean you actually like him?

chigiri gives you that thankful little smile whenever you stand up for him. i feel like people don't understand how goofy he can get as he's canonically good at doing impressions/impersonations. also has the prettiest laugh. if he ever cuts his hair, i think i'm going to get a nosebleed.

noa unconsciously says yes to every question you ask of him. he'd be giving bastard münchen a hard time (and denying isagi's requests) but then immediately once you come over, he's automatically acquiescing to everything you say. the rest of the team is low-key shocked you can win him over so easily. when they confront him about it, he just shrugs and goes "y/n is always right."

kurona's entire existence is attractive. he's just perfect. nothing is ever wrong with him. will let you check out his shark teeth and lightly pokes your finger to leave an imprint. hopefully you'll always remember him that way. he's also quiet so he will listen to everything you say and give ample weight to your words.

sae is my baby girl so he gets a whole section dedicated to himself:

absentmindedly plays with your hair. when you're sleeping in his lap, he'll gently run his fingers along your scalp. sometimes in the morning when you're sitting up on the edge of your bed to do your makeup, he'll come up from behind you and brush back your hair. might also press a kiss to the back of your neck.

helps you put on your face mask. when he's shopping, he will buy you lotion along with his own skincare products. says that it was just a convenient store run but you know he personally made sure to get you the best quality ones.

this is canon because i said so: when he gets out of the shower, he slings the towel over his neck or his shoulder. he also involuntarily flexes his biceps when he bends down to grab something. has the world's most defined deltoids.

when you're stuck in large crowds at the airport, he puts his hand in your back pocket to keep you two from getting separated. if the TSA pat-down is anywhere too personal for his liking, he will openly glare at the officer once you've passed the security checkpoint.

bonus point: when you two brush your teeth early in the morning, he has that little bed head where his shorn-off bangs stick up in cute little tufts here and there. will have a dead look on his face, but his eyes soften when he catches your gaze through the mirror.

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pedgito · 3 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐎𝐋𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑 | Jesse (TLOU) x reader

summary | During a tense moment, Jesse has a devastating realization.

author's note | built around this request - this fit with an idea i already had sorta half outlined a couple weeks ago. this is unbeta'd, so if there's any mistakes just let me know!

content warning | 18+ MDNI, established friendship, loss of parents mention, tommy/joel being a father figure to reader, angst, unrequited feelings come to the surface, teasing, reader taking care of jesse in small ways, protected piv, very earnest dirty talk lmao, mentions of past relationships - can be pictured as either game or show jesse, i just adore young.

word count — 4.3k

He’s witnessed the best and worst of you.

And you, him.

The worst being when you parents died during a night attack on Jackson, a group of clickers hitting a weak point of Jackson’s bordering walls—you were lucky enough to survive because you were staying at Tommy and Maria’s that night, watching Benjamin while they used the freed up time to treat themselves to some normalcy, a date.

Jesse had held you in his arms while you cried, ordered by Tommy to stick close with you and Benjamin while he and a few other patrolmen dealt with the bodies, gave them a proper burial.

Tommy hadn’t meant to take you in so quickly, but you often drifted to his home for comfort.

Maria sensed the deep abandonment you felt, also realizing how much Benjamin clung to your presence. It helped relieve some of their worry knowing you had something to distract yourself and that they could catch up with more of the repairs around Jackson while you kept their son busy.

Eventually, you’re old enough for patrol.

Tommy starts you out with Joel, similar to his brother, he treats you with a soft, but firm guiding hand and after six months of consistent patrolling, Tommy pairs you up with Jesse.

Though, with minor hesitation.

He’s your leader for group patrols, but as you show more interest in wanting to go out in pairs, he was the safest bet—Tommy was also quick to pick up on the spark of friendship you had with him.

Shy and quiet, but there was trust.

He’d also given Jesse the talk about keeping you safe.

The sort of protect her with your life or it was his ass type deal.

Jesse isn’t surprised to see how well you handle patrol, killing infected without even a flinch, rolling with any punches thrown your way—you’ve always been strong.

He’s only surprised by how easily you’ve become the closest thing to family outside of his own, and Dina, who he seemed to have a tumultuous relationship with most of the time.

You never judged, only listened, joked with him about their unsteadiness on occasion.

Were they on? Were they off? It was always a gamble.

Based on the way his head was bowed, trudging around the snowy property without speaking a word, they were off—like…off off. Usually it lasted a couple days, sometimes a week, but he’s been this way for a month, looking increasingly more somber as time went on.

He never went into his and Dina’s fights—what they were about or who, why he often distanced himself from you when they were together despite his habit of sneaking in a few patrols with you just for the ease of it.

Everything was easy with you.

You’re always checking on him, fussing over him—Jesse doesn’t seem to mind, almost expecting it with how much he’s received from his mother or Dina, but with you, it was less about undermining him.

He felt reassured, knowing you didn’t worry about him in the same way they did, fearful of his fearless nature, carrying some of that yourself, you just wanted to keep him sharp and let him know that you had his back.

That’s why you spot it first—the fraying strap on his thigh holster, one good tug away from snapping in half.

"You’re gonna rip that thing and then whine about it the whole ride back," you break the silence, staring at him until his eyes drop to his leg, stopping in place as you’re already dropping to your knees in front of him without waiting for permission, “do you have any tape left? I know we stopped using it for marking but Joel likes to keep it in his pack and—”

Jesse chuckles low in his throat, his stomach doing a strange flip as you settle into the cold, wet snow without a care. "I’m not a whiner,”

"You are absolutely a whiner," you fire back easily, fingers working the strap loose from the buckle. Your gloves slip awkwardly against the leather, so you peel them off and toss them aside, “a goddamn cry baby, actually.”

Bare fingers are quicker, more precise.

Jesse swings his pack over his shoulder and digs through it quietly, pulling out an unpleasantly colored green role of tape and hands it to you, finding amusement in the scrunch of your nose in disgust as you spot the shade, “Gross,” you mutter, ripping it apart with your teeth as you situate the holster until it feels secure enough and tape it excessively.

“What a great thing to say while you’re down there,” Jesse jokes, shaking his head with a furrow in his brow as he slips his backpack back on, “really boosts egos, you know?”

“Who’s boosting your ego?” you ask accusatory, the slick smirk following like clockwork.

You don't even realize you’ve braced your free hand on the inside of his thigh for balance, fingertips pressing lightly into the warm, solid muscle there, even through the fabric of his cargo pants, peering up at him in question, “S’not me.”

Jesse does realize, though.

It was a strange feeling, fleeting, a glimpse of you he’s never seen before.

Every muscle in his body goes tight, locked up like you’ve got a knife to him instead of the gentleness of your touch. He’s breathing slow and shallow, willing himself to stay still as you lean in, tilt your head as you secure the holster in place properly, nearly eye level with his groin and focused entirely on fixing him.

Like you always do.

For a moment, he forces himself to look away, hands settled into his jacket pockets as he squints under the bright winter sky, praying the snow would blind him for a brief moment.

When his eyes do finally flick down, he catches the way your brows draw together in concentration, the way your mouth tugs into a little frown, your teeth biting into your bottom lip.

And for a moment, so briefly Jesse thinks he’s gone insane, he imagines you making that face for him in a specific way that he blames on the frustration that has built within him the past few weeks and immediately hates himself for it.

"Almost done," you say softly, tugging at the wrinkled fabric of his pants until the holster is fit properly again, glancing up curiously.

That's when it hits him like a pile of fucking bricks.

You're looking up at him from between his knees, face soft despite the harsh breeze of snow, hands finding purchase with confidence on his body, almost surgical. Calculated.

There's nothing flirty about it. Nothing intentional. Nothing sexual.

Yet still, he can’t breathe.

You make a small noise of satisfaction, a squeak that Jesse wouldn’t have heard had he not been so tuned in to your every move, smiling as you stand, additionally fixing his beanie on his head for good measure and only a small attempt to tease him.

You slap his chest lightly as he stares, attempting to break him out of his strange stupor and it takes everything in Jesse to not grab your hand, curl his fist around your wrist, and drag you back into the building where your other supplies lay dormant in wait for the night to come.

Instead, he stays frozen. You're already shifting to stand, brushing snow from your knees, acting as if nothing was wrong—because for you, there wasn’t. But, you notice Jesse’s silent gaze as he follows your movement and you pause, waving a playful hand in front of his face.

"You good?" you ask, cocking your head at him.

"Yeah," Jesse says after a moment of hesitation, almost as if he had to force it out. He clears his throat, forces his eyes away from your mouth as you notice his gaze linger there. "Yeah. Thank you.”

Weird, you think.

But, Jesse had a strange sense of humor on occasion, assuming this was just a ploy to fuck with you, unsettle you a bit.

Though, something lingers as you step away, feeling his gaze return as you turn your back.

It seemed better to be left unspoken.

–

The fire crackles as you feed it a few more broken twigs, coaxing the flames higher to battle the cold. You shiver, pushing aside your dirty plates from dinner, pulling your sleeves over your hands as you sit back on your heels and cross your legs, sitting snug beside him against the wall.

And Jesse’s quiet.

He’s been quiet.

Strained quiet, not cautious like there was an impending sense of danger looming.

It was the kind of quiet that screamed avoidance.

"Careful, stare too long and you’re gonna scare the fire out," you tease him, nudging his foot with your boot, his hands curling into fists against his knees at the totally and completely normal gesture on your end.

Jesse snorts— but it isn’t him, a little too forced. "I’m just thinking…bored, you know?"

This was ridiculous—and unfortunately for Jesse, you had always been a straight shooter.

Plainly, you confront him, turning slightly in place to face him, "You’ve been acting weird ever since I fixed your thigh holster. Did I make you uncomfortable? Because, if you’re ever bothered by it, you can tell me—"

Jesse glances at you once, then down, and guiltily back up at you.

He doesn’t even have a response. He’s locked up, cornered.

“It doesn’t bother me,” Jesse offers eventually.

“Well, something is—you’re never this quiet with me,” you point out, resisting the urge to nudge him with a finger, scared he might scurry away.

“It’s really fuckin’ stupid, actually,” Jesse decides, forcing out an awkward, quiet laugh.

“Hey, tell me,” you urge him gently, your eyes widening with earnestness and Jesse hates that look—it is impossible to counter, seeing the creeping sense of emotion in your eyes.

Jesse avoids your gaze and shifts where he sits, propping his elbows on his knees, intertwining his fingers as he stared into the fire like it might spare him from answering and cause him to burst into flames.

"It wasn't anything you did," he says after a minute, voice low. "You were just—"

He cuts himself off, huffing out a breath of disbelief that he was having to admit this to you.

You lean in a little closer without thinking, hand curling around his forearm thoughtlessly, chasing after the words he won't give you.

"Jesse, just spit it out," you prod, a laugh mixed in with your sincerity.

Jesse lets out a slow, rough exhale, the kind that sounds like it's been sitting in his chest all day.

"You were just lookin' at me," he says finally, looking at you with a sudden weariness you’ve never seen with him, "Touchin' me. And I—"

Oh.

But, Jesse would be lying if he said this was just a lapse of judgment.

There had been hints for a while, sprinkled throughout your friendship.

Both of you cared a little more than just friends, but left the heaviness of that unspoken.

“I touch you a lot,” you joke lightly, hoping to ease his worry and maybe even convince yourself of something you weren’t sure you were ready to face; deep down, there was always that flutter in your stomach when Jesse smiled at you, but you often brushed it off.

He was your best friend—it was natural.

“Someone’s gotta take care of your shit,” you continue, pointing at the tattered strap of his backpack, “this shit is a damn hazard.”

He almost laughs.

But Jesse’s still tense, jaw working like he's fighting a war inside his mind.

You see the exact moment he gives up trying to hide it too—when he turns to look at you fully, really looks at you, and there’s nothing friendly about it.

You reach for him instinctively, your hand scratching over his cheek with blunt nails, gentle as you feel him lean into the caress, “Jesse,” you say quietly, his name loaded with emotion.

Respect, trust, fear, admiration.

“Tommy would fuckin’ kill me,” Jesse jokes, “Shit, Joel, too.”

“I’m not their kid,” you counter, “I’m not a kid. S’that what you’re worried about? Them?”

“I’m not really worried about them,” he says quietly, his voice tight, but it’s a half-truth.

Tommy did scare him on occasion, knowing how protective he had grown over you, “I’m worried about this,” He pauses, swallowing hard. "We’re friends, I like that. I’d die without it, I think."

He pauses for a moment, then suddenly, it flows out.

“I saw you, looking up at me,” Jesse shakes his head, “on your knees—”

You snicker softly, “O-kay,” you’re beginning to understand now.

You’re not sure why, but you move.

Not to him, rather in front of him, stripped of your jacket and the front of your top droops slightly as you shift to your knees and offers a full view of your chest, hands curling around his boots.

“What are you thinking now?” you ask curiously, hands curling over his knees as you move in closer, his legs spreading to accommodate you as you scoot forward on your knees.

“This isn’t funny,” Jesse retorts, sinking as far back into the wall as physically possible before you’re settled back on your legs, spread out underneath his, his feet planted as you rest your hands against his knees.

“I’m not laughing, am I?” you challenge him, “Seriously, what are you thinking right now?

“I can’t even,” Jesse shakes his head in disbelief, “I don’t know—”

“I’m trying to test temporary insanity as an option,” you offer, though it was mostly a joke—you were just fishing, curious of how often he thought about you in such a way, “it could have just been a lapse in judgement, so let me hear it,” you lean into his space, tilting your head to meet his as he turns away, “what are you thinking about?”

There’s a subtle glance at your face that leads to your chest and Jesse, if you would let him, would have you spread out over his lap without a moment of hesitation—but there is hesitation.

“Jesse,” you tease, singsong in the way you say his name.

And then he moves.

It’s fast—so fast that you barely register it until his hand is gripping your wrists and pulling you toward him. The movement is fierce, raw, acting purely on feeling, without thinking.

His grip on your wrist is firm, possessive, as he leans in close, pulling you to him as you settle in his lap without needing to be directed, his lips so close that you can feel them even before they touch you, breathing hot against your mouth.

The moment he gives in, it isn’t gentle or kind. It’s a collision of everything that’s been building between you two, all the unspoken emotions, the buried desires that neither of you have acknowledged until now, laying dormant.

His kiss is hungry, demanding, and when you try to pull back, his other hand comes up to cup the back of your head, keeping you there, gasping softly into his mouth. Your entire world spins at a dizzying speed as you exhale a breathless laugh of disbelief into the kiss.

When you finally pull away, it’s only enough to catch your breath, face close enough for your nose to bump against his cheek, the closeness almost sending you reeling again.

He’s still holding your wrists, this time with one hand as the other squeezed tenderly at the back of your head, yearning to pull you in close again, like he’s scared you’ll vanish if he lets go.

He’s ready to mutter an apology or excuse, but you don’t let him.

You move quickly, shifting slightly as you lean back, tugging at his wrists, guiding his hands down your chest and over your stomach, under the fabric of your shirt until his hands make contact with bare skin.

Jesse swears he’s going to die from the simplicity of it all—again, how easy things felt with you—the soft skin there, the way you settle back into his legs, the curve of your ass grazing his lap, aware of how hard his cock was against you.

You smirk at the way his gaze heats with his explorative touches, it was clear that he only needed the push and reassurance, his lips parting to release a long sigh.

“Say it,” you urge him, knowing exactly what he looked like when he was keeping something to himself, itching to speak his mind.

Jesse groans, a low, needy sound that makes your stomach flip, “Shit,” he says, “you’re gonna tease me for sayin’ it, I just know—”

“No, no,” you assure him, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips that quickly heats, shoving his beanie aside as you toss it to the floor, running your fingers into his hair, “I won’t.”

“I’m thinkin’,” He begins, chasing your lips as you pull away, “about how bad I want to fuck you right now—jus’ right here, it might fuckin’ kill me.”

You grin, satisfied with his answer and the hoarse, raw way he delivers it, “Then maybe you should,” you breathe, “ya know, fuck me.”

Jesse pulls you in further, his hands sliding over your hips and up the center of your back, between your shoulder blades as he lifts your top over your head, giggling at how quickly his face presses between your breasts, mouthing gently at the swell of skin, so soft and supple.

Within his distraction, you reach for your bag, unzipping the small pocket in the front to reach for the small roll of foil squares you kept squared away—it was a long story, actually.

Jesse doesn’t let it slide either, hearing the sound and pausing immediately as he looks over his shoulder. His face a mix of amusement and disbelief.

“Oh, don’t fucking look at me like that,” you go on the defense immediately with a playful smile, “I know you have some in your bag, too.”

Jesse knew briefly of a small stint you had with one of the men who filtered through patrol and watchtower patrol through the seasons, having found you in an awkward situation or two that didn’t give away much, always finding you after.

Either way, you were both guilty.

Jesse opens his mouth to speak, but you slap your hand to muffle any noise.

“Stop talking,” you order as he peels your bra off without trouble, swatting your hand away as his mouth latches immediately to your chest, tongue slick against your nipple, “and oh—fuck me—”

He can’t tell whether it was a demand or a pleading moment of desperation, it didn't really matter.

You’re already pulling at his coat, fumbling with the zipper as he drags you closer into his lap, his mouth never lulling in the attention he’s giving you, his teeth dragging over the tender skin of your chest as he lets out a desperate groan when your hips rub impatiently down against him.

It’s urgent, now, how he moves, almost frantic as he paws at the button of his jeans, the rasp of his zipper loud above the sound of your sharp breaths and the crackle of fire—you work in tandem, standing to slip your jeans and underwear down your hip, both of you too caught up to let the moment breathe as you settle back over him, stripped naked and vulnerable despite his state of dress, but you’ve never felt more secure.

You watch with a quiet smile as he fumbles to rip the packet open with shaky, adrenaline fueled hands, slipping the latex over his hardened cock, gripping himself at the base as you rise higher on your knees and extend your palm out in front of your mouth and spit into it with a lingering eye contact that could undo Jesse on the spot, bringing your hand to your cunt to smear the saliva between your folds, aching for the stretch of him, underestimating the stretch until the head of his cock is pressed against you, both of you releasing a slow breath as his hand searches for your hip, squeezing gently as you sink down onto his length.

You still suddenly, adjusting to the way he fills you.

It’s overwhelming how quickly the two of you had gotten here.

Jesse grips your hips tightly, distracting your fleeting thoughts, lifting you off of him with a strong grip before dragging you back down with a low moan of his own when your nails dig into his shoulders through his shirt.

He holds you with a sudden possessiveness that leaves you crying out softly against his cheek, rocking his hips up to meet your rhythm as you bounce over him, his eyes barely leaving your face as he watches you fall apart on his cock, eyes wide and wondrous as earlier that day, the subtle twitches to your face when he brushes a spot so sensitive inside of you, gasping sharply.

The pace is desperate, both of you burning hot with the urgency of a handful of years building up like a house that finally caught fire, crumbling down to nothing but this moment, and the slide of him inside you is so slick, his body molding against your own, hands fitting perfectly against your body as he moans softly into the shared space between you, head lulling back against the wall as you follow, yearning for closeness.

"Jesus," he breathes, almost awed, the warmth of you wrapped around him, the tightness, the way you're taking the reins when he finds himself distracted, your hips dragging in slow, languid rolls over him. "jesus fuckin' christ, baby,"

The drag of his cock inside you is intense and fulfilling, your hands planted firmly against his chest, twitching into the fabric of his shirt to brace yourself as you ride him, his wandering and squeezing grasps to pull you impossibly closer indicative of how close he was.

“You like me fussing over you” you tell him breathlessly, fingers twisting into his hair to tilt it back, his eyes landing on you through a heavy, heated gaze as he huffs a laugh through his nose, “don’t you?”

He nods without a moment of hesitation.

“I take such good care of you, huh?”

You aren’t expecting the words to set him off, but they do.

You squeal at the quickness with which he moves, snatching your backpack with quick thinking as he lays you out on the cold ground, your gasp melting into a loud as he quickly, smoothly situations himself between your legs again and pushes inside of you, his hand curling around the back of your neck to tilt your chin up, jeans hanging low around his legs as he settles on his knees to create a mind-numbing angle as he thrusts into you.

“I feel it,” he whispers cockily, your cunt squeezing around him at his words, “you feel it?”

You nod dumbly as he continues to speak, “She loves me,” he tells you, “god—she’s squeezing me so tight,”

There’s something about it that breaks the line of reality, feeling as if this was all some dream, that there was no way Jesse knew your body this well, like it hadn’t been craving him from the start.

“Show me how you touch yourself,” Jesse orders, though it was more pleading, ultimately followed by the simple word, “please—fuck, please—”

He’s locked on the quick work of your hands, legs spread around and locked behind his back, his cock sinking inside of your greedy cunt with needy thrusts, chasing a high that he didn’t want to end.

When it did, it was slow.

You come apart with a cry, his mouth hot against your neck as he groaned into you, your cunt squeezing him like a vice as your body worked through the aching pulses of pleasure and it was few more long, sharp thrusts before he followed, fingers digging harshly into the skin of your thigh as he slowed himself to a gentle rock of his hips as he spilled into the condom.

When the high settles, you can’t help but laugh, feeling his head slump against your chest as he echoes your elation, “I think we fucked through your patrol slot,” he says through a heavy sigh, pulling out of you with a slight wince.

You grab at his wrist, glancing at his watch.

Sure enough.

“Oh no, we’re going to be devoured by clickers,” you say jokingly, a grin spreading across your face, pausing for a moment to shrug, “worth it.”

Jesse helps you redress with an unspoken protectiveness when you’ve both let the moment settle and pass, painfully reminiscent of the way you’ve cared for him before under entirely different circumstances, realizing how easily it was for your mind to wander like Jesse’s had.

“Tommy’s so gonna know,” Jesse speaks after a while, “Dude’s a fuckin’ knower.”

“No,” you snort softly, “you’re just a terrible liar. Just keep shit simple.”

“Dina was right,” he says quietly, reaching for the rifle leaning against the wall to take watch for his turn, “We were both never fully invested with what we had, she never really said why, but—”

“It isn’t something we have to dive into right now, Jesse,” you assure him, “or, ever.”

You bend down to grab Jesse’s beanie before handing it over.

“We’re still friends, that doesn’t have to change,”

Unfortunately, for Jesse, he knew that wasn’t possible.

He’d been missing something for a while, he just hadn’t realized it was something that had been with him the entire time.

You.

#the last of us #tlou #jesse tlou #young mazino #jesse tlou x reader #jesse tlou x you #jesse tlou fic #jesse tlou smut #tlou fic #the last of us fic #my writing

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bullet-prooflove · 21 days ago

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Who The Fuck Is Charlie? - Charlie Reid x Reader

Tagging:@kmc1989 @littleesilvia @wrestlequeen @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @beebeechaos

Summary: You wake up calling for Charlie but noone knows who the fuck Charlie is.

Companion piece to:

Charlie - Charlie meets someone unexpected one night at his pool hall.

The Whole Damn Night - You aren't anything like Charlie expected.

Risk Management - Charlie realises the two of you have been keeping secrets from one another.

Deals With The Devil - Charlie's fall from grace starts with an act of love.

The Ghost That Lingers In The Nighttime - Charlie's becoming accustomed to the late night visits.

When you wake up you call out for Charlie but the problem is nobody knows who Charlie is. Before they can ask you, you’re slipping away again, falling into unconsciousness and Voight, the man whose standing at your bedside, he assumes you’re giving him the name of a second shooter.

There’s a Charlie in the First Nationals, a nasty piece of work who wouldn’t think twice about taking part in a hit. The problem is he was shot in the back a few weeks ago and is now a quadriplegic. There’s no way he could have assisted in your attempted murder. So now they’re on the hunt for Charlie.

Your Charlie discovers all of this during another departmental meeting when he walks into the room and finds the outline of half bodied silhouette projected on the screen with a white question mark in the centre with ‘Who the fuck is Charlie?’ written underneath.

Alongside it are the mugshots from eight other gangbangers affiliated with the First Nationals, each one with the street name ‘Charlie’

Already this whole thing is hurtling out of control so he puts his foot on the break because Voight, he’s been hitting the gas so hard the car is starting to spin.

“Charlie hasn’t got anything to do with the hit.” He asserts into the conversation, his gaze focused on the pen in his hand as he taps it on the yellow legal pad. Voight’s head snaps up towards him as do all the others in the room. “After the initial shooting I took the liberty of picking up Detective Scott’s keys from the evidence locker. I decided to take a look around the apartment as I wanted to rule out any personal factors that may have led to attempt on her life since Command didn’t seem to think the original threat was viable.”

His last statement is dripping with ire as he fixes the head of the Threat Assessment Unit with a fierce look, one that could burn the other man’s eyes right out of his sockets.

“What I found upon entering the residence was evidence that a man had been staying there overnight on occasion. There were a few shirts in the dresser, a razor in the bathroom and a second toothbrush. There was a calendar on the fridge that indicated Charlie had been out of the country since before the shooting meaning he isn’t a viable suspect-”

“The sister didn’t say anything about a boyfriend.” Voight interrupts, crossing his arms over his chest.

“She didn’t know.” Charlie informs him, tapping the pen more fervently. The noise carries through the room as his irritation increases. “Detective Scott didn’t discuss it with them because her family had been judgemental about her past relationships. It’s my belief that she was asking for her lover, not trying to tell you the name of a mysterious second shooter so all of this-” He waves his hand at the screens. “-this didn’t need too happen. You didn’t need to waste the time and the resources looking for an elusive second man.”

“Maybe if you had told me you had investigated-” Voight begins but Charlie cuts him off with the slash of his hand as he raises to his feet.

“Your detective wanted to keep her private life private, I was trying to honour that decision.” Charlie says snatching up his legal pad before addressing the room. “Now if you excuse me, I’ve got actual criminals to be chasing, ones that aren’t figments of Sergent Voight’s imagination.”

With that he leaves the room, his heart thundering in his chest because his girl, she woke up. She’s finally coming back to him.

Love Charlie? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Before you join the taglist make sure to read the rules here as you otherwise you won’t be added.

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#charlie reid #charlie reid x reader #chicago pd #shawn hatosy #one chicago #charlie reid x you

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beritybaker · 15 days ago

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Itsy Bitsy

This one is for @steddiesongfics June 2025 prompt: summer songs.

Rating: T | WC: 2,105 | Tags: Public Pool, Speedo, Flirting, POV Eddie, Pre-Steddie, Gareth is a Little Shit | ao3 Song: "Itsy Bitsy Teenie Weenie Yellow Polka Dot Bikini," by Brian Hyland

I’m gonna kill him.

It’s not that Eddie is ashamed of his body. He’s also not that worried about getting weird looks, because he’s used to those. The problem is more the indignity of it all; he’s supposed to be dark and mysterious, but as he stares at himself in the locker room mirror, he sees anything but mystery. The swimsuit Gareth is making him wear leaves very little to the imagination.

Still, the thing is a consequence of his own actions. He’s been well and truly hoisted by his own petard. Normally, Jeff would’ve jumped in to defend him and be the voice of reason, but the fact that they’d been betting on his love life had earned them the cold shoulder for the time being. The result is Eddie being forced to confront the crowd at Hawkins Community Pool on the hottest day of the summer, wearing nothing but a goddamn banana hammock.

Gareth couldn’t have picked out something understated and black, or even red. Of course not—that would be too easy for Eddie to play off. He’d just had to pick out some neon green thing that’s bound to burn the other pool-goers’ retinas as much as his pasty skin. He also couldn’t have warned Eddie that this was his punishment, so that he would have time to tame the jungle he’s got below the belt.

I’m gonna wrap my hands around his neck and—

“Eds? You ready?” Gareth’s voice from the next shower stall sounds positively giddy. For the love of Christ, he couldn’t even be a little bit sympathetic.

“Yeah,” Eddie grumbles, and he steps into view.

As soon as he sees him, Gareth’s eyes light up with enough mischief to power all of downtown. “Oh, it’s even better than I expected.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means—and don’t take this the wrong way, man—I can see like, everything. Your whole cock and balls are just…out there.”

“And?” Eddie demands, rolling his eyes. He’s well aware of how visible his junk is in this ridiculous piece of nylon. Despite his best efforts to adjust to a less obscene position, the outline of his dick is impossible to hide.

“It’s funny?” Gareth says. His tone implies the duh. “God, you’re hot, too. If you weren’t hot, I would just feel mean making you wear that.”

“You are mean,” Eddie shoots back, refusing to acknowledge the compliment. He snatches his towel from Gareth’s grasp and mutters, “Now let’s get this over with.”

“Get it over with? I’m doing you a favor, dude.”

“A favor? That’s what this is?”

Gareth shrugs again. “Sure. I mean, there’s a lot of people out there. There’s bound to be somebody who picks up what you’re laying down.”

Eddie rolls his eyes again and leads him out of the locker room without another word. He tries to subtly position the towel in his hand to block himself from most people’s view, counting on Gareth being too chickenshit to call him out on it in front of strangers. Still, he gets a couple odd looks, and he does his best to tell himself the heat in his face is just from the sun beating down on him as he walks faster and faster.

By the time he reaches the grassy, blessedly empty corner of the pool area, he’s almost jogging. Almost, of course, because he’s not used to being so close to naked in public. If he actually did run, he worries his dick might bounce around enough to slip free of its tiny restraint, so the most he’s willing to do is power-walk over to the fence. There, he spreads out his towel and sits, thankful for a moment of peace as he curls his knees to his chest before Gareth can pointedly suggest a little sunbathing.

Sure enough, the kid raises an eyebrow as he spreads out his own towel and remarks, “You gonna sit there like a roly-poly all day? You’re never gonna get a tan like that.”

“You know I only burn,” Eddie scoffs, but he straightens out his knees a bit. His legs still hide his crotch from the view of passersby, but in this position he can lean back on his hands and shoot Gareth what has to be the most transparently false look of indifference known to man. “But I see your point. I guess I should show off, since I’m apparently so hot.”

Gareth laughs, seeing right through his attempt to tease. “Dude, there’s no point trying to make me self-conscious. I’m not the one wearing a bikini bottom.”

Eddie narrows his eyes in question.

“No, it’s not actually a bikini. I was exaggerating, asshole.”

He shrugs, adopting another aloof expression. It feels a tad more successful than the first. “Hm. That’s too bad. I still would’ve worn it.”

“Sure you would,” Gareth replies, disbelieving.

“I would!”

“Then prove it. Stretch out those legs and show off,” he dares.

“Okay, then. Fine!” Eddie slides his feet out in front of him until the backs of his thighs hit the towel. It puts him on display, in all his indecent glory. “Happy?”

“Hm. Not yet.”

“Gare, I’m sitting here with my bush out for all the world to see. What the hell else am I supposed to do?”

“Just wait,” Gareth says.

“Jesus, that’s not cryptic at all,” Eddie mumbles.

“It really is a scorcher today, huh?” Without any other warning, Gareth rocks to his feet. “I’m gonna go for a dip. You wanna come with?”

Eddie glares at his shit-eating grin. “Uh, no. I think I’ll hold off on that.”

“Suit yourself,” Gareth says, but the subtext is something more like, Eventually it’s gonna get too hot for you to stay out of the water, you know.

Eddie thinks his friend might be severely underestimating the determination of a man trying to keep from accidentally flashing everybody and their mother. He watches Gareth prance off to wait in line for the diving board, then flops backward across his towel and squeezes his eyes shut against the blazing sun. Christ. I never should’ve taken that bet.

He could just…leave. He could use this moment of Gareth’s absence to go back to the locker room, put his clothes back on, and leave the kid and his smug mug stranded without a ride. Gareth knows all that, though. More importantly, he knows Eddie would never actually do it; that’s the only reason he left him alone in the first place. Plus, if Eddie did chicken out, he would never hear the end of it.

It’s something to fantasize about, though, to take his mind off the feeling of a stale breeze ruffling leg hair it wouldn’t usually reach. The thought works well enough as a distraction. It’s almost like he’s at home in his bed, where he’s not so conscious of being nearly nude.

The thing that pops his bubble is a sudden change in temperature. It reminds him that he’s been lying in the sun, and when he opens his eyes, there’s a shadow cast across his torso, moving like a person. Because it is a person, he realizes, and he looks up to see a fucking Adonis dropping into a lounge chair that wasn’t there a minute ago.

He blinks up at him. That’s not just any Adonis.

Before he can stop himself, Eddie blurts, “You’re blocking my sun, Harrington.”

Steve Harrington glances his way and says, “You can thank me later, Casper.” Which, ouch. But then he does a double-take, and Eddie sees his eyes flit from the swimsuit, up to his face, and back again, where they linger far longer than they should.

Not that Eddie blames him. It’s not every day you see the town freak sitting around in what amounts to a pair of fluorescent, low-rise briefs.

Still, it’s probably best to draw Harrington’s attention away from his bulge. It’s not like Eddie’s suit is gonna do him any favors once his body starts to fully process King Steve sitting next to him with his tits out and his own itty-bitty swim shorts hugging the curve of his thigh. So, by way of an explanation, he says, “Lost a bet.”

Steve’s gaze snaps up to Eddie’s face, so he puts on his best sly grin to disguise his nerves. There must be some kind of eye-magnet on his crotch, though—Of course there is, it’s called a fucking speedo—because that gaze starts to drift again, sliding back to it.

In a slight panic, Eddie adds, “Plus it’s hot out, you know?”

Steve meets his eye. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Yeah. Sure is,” he murmurs. Then he bites his lip, and this time the way his eyes rake down Eddie’s body feels a bit more deliberate.

Oh.

Does that mean what Eddie thinks it means? Is Harrington…checking him out?

One way to find out.

Eddie purses his lips, pushing them out a little to subtly emphasize their natural fullness. It’s a move he mastered as a kid, when he realized it could get him just about anything he wanted from his uncle. Once he got older, he realized it worked the same way with others, and in far less innocent situations than begging to stay up an extra half-hour. He arches his back a little, too, then he uses the most provocative tone he can muster to quip, “I can move somewhere else if you need to cool down a little.”

That gets Steve’s attention. He looks at Eddie’s face again as a flush spreads from his cheeks and all the way down his neck. He raises his eyebrows.

“Would you like me to move, big boy?” Eddie asks, fluttering his lashes.

Steve chews on his lip a little bit longer before he clears his throat and mumbles, “No. I, uh…I think I like you just where you are.”

“Mm. Good.” Eddie settles his head back on his towel, making sure his hair fans out around his head. He juts his chin toward the sky to put his neck on display. “I like the view from here.” He draws his gaze up the length of Steve’s form, knowing he’s gotten his point across when Steve clears his throat again. When that happens, Eddie pantomimes getting caught with a playful gasp.

With a hint of a smirk playing at his lips, Steve says, “You two come here often?”

Eddie furrows his brow.

In answer to his unspoken question, Steve points right at his dick.

A little disarmed by his cheek, Eddie barks a laugh. “Well, like I said, it’s hot out. But what about you, Your Majesty? Don’t you have a pool in your backyard?”

Steve scoffs. “Hardly matters when your best friend drags you to the public pool, anyway.”

“Hm. Well, I’ll have to thank him, then.”

“Her.”

Eddie arches an eyebrow. “Oh, so you’re sensitive,” he teases.

“Very.” And by god, does Steve Harrington know what he’s doing. He pairs the single, growled word with a hand smoothed across his own chest. The movement is just understated enough to look innocent from a distance, but from where Eddie is lying a couple feet away, he doesn’t miss the way Steve’s fingertips dig into his golden skin and his palm rubs one of his nipples. His voice drops into a sultriness of its own. “Love the suit, by the way.”

“You know, I could wear it over to yours sometime,” Eddie replies. “Have a private little pool party. Or…”

When he trails off, Steve gives him a vaguely puzzled look.

Eddie lets him sweat for a second. He wants every bit of anticipation to sink all the way in before he finishes his thought. It’s not until Steve starts to actually look a bit distressed that he goes on, “Or not. I could also not wear it.” He wrinkles his nose playfully. “If you catch my drift.”

Steve’s look of worry smooths over, and the corner of his mouth tugs upward in a crooked smile. “Well, my folks did put in a fence last summer.” Eddie gets a whiff of sunblock and musky cologne as he leans in and whispers, “A tall one.”

Eddie’s smile widens. “Good to know.”

Later, when Eddie notices the top of Gareth’s head peeking over the edge of the pool with gloating eyes, Eddie will flip him the bird, which will prompt Steve to chuckle and ask, “What was that about?”

And Eddie will reply, “Nothing. He’s just a dick.” A dick who’s managed to live another day.

#steddie song fics #steddie #steddie fic #author stuff

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justanotherexlover · 26 days ago

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Touch | Bob Reynolds x Plus Size!Reader

Read Part 2 Here

summary: Bob begins to find comfort in physical touch from you, but when he starts getting bolder, you have questions.

robert ‘bob’ reynolds x avenger!plus size!f!reader

word count: 1.8k+

content warning: brief mention of the void rooms

author’s note: this is my first time writing bob! Lmk what you think :) I might do a pwp sequel if the response is good.

After being announced as the New Avengers, things had settled down far quicker than you expected. Everyone picked their own rooms in the tower, and besides a small spat between Ava and Yelena about who got the room with the best view, most of you settled into rooms randomly.

Yours happened to be right next to Bob. He was the only one who still seemed shaken by what had happened when the Void overcame him, or perhaps he was the worst at hiding it. You knew that the shame rooms you’d seen still lingered in your mind, but like the rest of the team, you kept it to yourself.

Bob had let it slip one night that the memories of that time, of what he’d done, were slowly creeping back in, and he was reliving it daily. You could tell it was taking a toll on him, the way he clung to the corners of rooms, prepared to slip out once he got the chance.

He had also taken to sleeping less, which wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that you two shared a wall, so you could hear his pacing and muttering. It didn’t annoy you exactly, but it was difficult to sleep though.

You dragged yourself out of bed wearing nothing but a green nightgown that clung to your curves and showed the outline of your belly, opening your door and walking the few steps to Bob’s before knocking once, twice, three times, and waiting.

The pacing and muttering stopped. The door opened, revealing Bob with his hair framing his face, wearing sweats and a sweatshirt, his typical outfit.

“Hey,” You said, searching his face for signs of distress. His eyes darted down to your figure before blinking a few times and moving back to your face.

“Hey,” He said.

Well, you hadn’t exactly thought this far ahead. You and Bob were friendly, like everyone on the team, but you hadn’t exactly had a lot of chances to spend time one-on-one together. Frankly, he always seemed nervous around you, but you assumed he was that way around most people.

You decided honesty was the best bet.

“I heard you pacing, and uh… I wanted to see if you were alright,” You said, shrugging.

“You can hear that? Oh—Oh god, I’m sorry, I must be keeping you up all night,” Bob said, running a hand through his hair. You shook your head.

“I can sleep through a lot,” You said, which wasn’t exactly true, but you didn’t want Bob to feel bad, “I’m more worried about you.”

Bob’s hand in his hair froze, and he muttered something under his breath before opening his door wider and gesturing for you to come in. You’d never been in Bob’s room before, but you supposed there was a first time for everything.

You glanced around and noticed that the room looked just like yours, except there was almost no personal touch to it. Most of the team, yourself included, had painted their walls, hung up photos, or at least gotten a new set of sheets. Bob’s room barely looked lived in, save for the fact that his blanket was messed up.

Bob sat on the bed and you sat next to him, keeping your eyes on his downcast face. Your nightdress rode up your thighs, and you pulled it down. Bob didn’t seem keen on talking, but you were chatty enough to fill the silence.

“Sometimes I have trouble sleeping, too,” You said, “It used to be worse when I was younger. I think time made it better, and therapy.”

Bob turned to look at you, “Val has me going to therapy.”

“The whole team could use therapy,” You admitted quietly, watching as the corners of Bob’s lips curled upwards.

“Probably,” He admitted, crossing his arms.

You refused to let silence overtake the room, and you didn’t want to risk waiting for Bob to open up, so you ducked your head to catch his eye. He startled, looking to you.

“It’ll be okay, you know that, right?” You said, keeping your hand on his arm.

“It might not, though,” Bob said, biting his lip, “I could turn into the Void again. He’s still in there, I can feel him.”

You scooted closer to Bob, until your thighs were touching, “Want to know a secret? Yes, you might turn into the Void again.”

“What?” He asked.

“You want me to say that it’ll never happen again? I can’t say that. It might. And you shouldn’t fear it. We pulled you out once, we’ll do it again, if we need to,” You said.

You watched as Bob deflated in on himself, his shoulders hunched over.

“I guess you’re right,” Bob said, “It’s inevitable.”

“That’s not what I said,” You corrected. You reached out and placed a hand on his, trying to think of some way to ground him, “It’s possible. But no use worrying about possibilities.”

Bob glanced down at your fingers, covering his own, and turned his hand upwards so your fingers were brushing against his palm. He made no move to pull away, and you found that you liked the feeling of his skin on yours. He was warm.

“How are you always so positive?” Bob asked, finally pulling his gaze up from your connected hands to your face.

“Fake it ‘till you make it,” You said, offering him a small smile, “Now, if we’re both going to be up anyways, we might as well watch a movie.”

Touching Bob’s hand seemed to open the floodgates for physical affection with him. You first noticed it when he stood behind you on the couch and let his hand rest on your shoulder, and you’d brushed that off as a one-off, but it kept happening.

At meetings he’d let his fingers brush across yours as he handed you mission briefings, or at dinner his hands would cover yours as you tried to show him how to properly stir a sauce. He liked the physical touch, you realized, and so did you. His skin on yours was beginning to make your heart do a funny little flip every time it happened.

You weren’t sure exactly what to make of it all yet, though. You didn’t want to draw attention to it and scare Bob away. He was a bit like a baby deer in that way.

As the team argued who would go on the next mission you glanced to your left. Bob was sitting next to you silently, your shoulders brushing together.

“It’s a reconnaissance mission,” Ava said, “I should go.”

“I can agree to that,” You said. Ava was usually the best at collecting intel, what with her powers as Ghost. Yelena threw her hands up.

“Are we forgetting I was trained for this type of work? I was a Widow!” Yelena said, her accent thickening as her frustration showed.

The argument continued, and you knew why. A least one or two people needed to stay behind to watch Bob, just in case. Usually it was Yelena, as she and Bob were the closest, but it seemed she was beginning to get frustrated with not working.

Suddenly a hand sat itself on your thigh under the table, and you jumped. The attention turned to you, and you glanced at Bob, who was giving you an unassuming look. You could see a sparkle in his eyes, though.

“I’ll stay back,” You heard yourself volunteering, “You can both go.”

Ava and Yelena gave each other a high-five, obviously thinking they’d won. You glanced down as Bob’s hand gently squeezed your thigh, not even able to wrap his fingers around it, and thought that maybe, you might be the winner.

Bob’s boldness began and ended with his hand on your leg in the middle of that meeting, and you were beginning to wonder if you’d misinterpreted it. Maybe it was something he’d assumed was friendly.

“What do you want for dinner?” You asked him a few nights later, when it was just the two of you in the Tower.

“You shouldn’t cook for just the two of us. Let’s order something,” Bob said, and you pursed your lips, tilting your head. You could be convinced.

“Like what?” You asked, taking a seat next to him on the couch and crossing your legs.

“Pizza?” He guessed, and you crinkled your nose. You had eaten too much pizza since moving to New York. He tried again, “Chinese?”

“Genuis, Bob,” You said, whipping out your phone. You found a place nearby with good ratings and ordered more food than you or Bob could eat in one sitting, figuring it wouldn’t hurt to have leftovers.

A while later you found yourselves in front of the TV, curled next to each other and clutching takeout containers as Titanic played. You brought your chopsticks, loaded with noodles, to your mouth just as you glanced over at Bob. He was already looking at you, and you quickly looked back to the TV. He then threw an arm around your shoulders, his fingers brushing over the roll of fat that collected under your bra strap. Your heart stuttered.

You swallowed your food and put it down, sitting up and pausing the movie.

“I want to talk,” You said, having no idea what you were going to say next.

“Okay,” Bob said, crossing his arms.

“Okay,” You replied, nodding to yourself. Bob was looking at you expectantly, and you glanced down at his arms, “You touch me.”

“Do—Do you want me to stop?” Bob asked, his voice low and slightly horrified.

“No!” You hurriedly said, shaking your head, “No. I just want to know… Is it the same way you touch everyone else?”

Bob leaned back into the couch, and you could see his tanned skin flushing. He brought up a hand to scratch at the back of his neck.

“No,” He admitted, a bit sheepishly.

“Okay,” You repeated, and you could almost feel Bob’s arm around your shoulders, or his hand in yours. You didn’t want to lose that. You swallowed, and then leaned forward, “Can I try something?”

Bob’s face was so close that you could feel his breath on your face. You watched his pretty blue eyes blink slowly, and you closed your eyes and leaned in until your lips touched his.

The second your lips touched, Bob seemed to open up. One of his hands slotted itself between your knees, with the other cradling your face. Your lips moved against his slowly and gently.

When you finally pulled back, you were breathless. Bob’s hands had taken to wandering the wide expanse of your thighs, and he looked mesmerized.

“What do you think about that kind of touch?” You asked him, biting your lip.

“I—It’s good,” Bob said, and his hand squeezed your knee, “We should do it again.”

#thunderbolts #bob reynolds #bob reynolds x reader #bob reynolds x plus size!reader #the new avengers #sentry #void #my personal goal is the fill up the x plus size reader hashtag

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symbiomancy · 8 months ago

Text

be aware wolf —werewolf

—summary: you venture into the woods to hunt for werewolves | 1.5k | AO3 | monster masterlist

—warnings: monster x human, monsterfucking, p in v sex, knotting, creampie, stomach bulge, mounting, outdoor sex, implied voyeurism

It’s a simple cycle. Enter the woods. Keep the local werewolf population under control. Retrieve any animal carcasses you come across in the woods. Make pelts out of said carcasses. Keep them or sell them. Receive payment from the town for your hard work. Pack your things and find the next town with a werewolf problem.

There are quite a few steps, but it’s a simple, straightforward cycle.

You sling your shotgun onto your back and place a hand onto the handgun at your hip. Your other hand rests on the belt of silver bullets around your hips. The ground is dry and this place hasn’t seen rain in weeks. There are no tracks to go off so you settle for scouting tufts of fur.

Something catches in the corner of your eye as you step around a grand oak.

You whip your head to the side and meet the pair of yellow eyes from the distance. It’s late August, and the blessing of the summer solstice only lasts so long. The sun is long gone and the full moon has crested. Darkness creeps around you, the tall trees shielding you from the moon’s glow. A cool breeze caresses your bare arms. You can just about make out the creature’s outline in the shadows. It’s large, maybe about 6 feet tall.

Slowly, you slip the shotgun from your shoulder and raise the barrel in the wolf’s direction. You whistle.

“Here boy,” you call. The pair of eyes blink at you languidly. “C’mere. I got treats for ya.” Indeed, you do; an opened pack of beef jerky in your back pocket. “C’mon, I have a whole pack of you to hunt tonight and I like to be efficient with my time.”

The werewolf rises onto its hind legs. Oh, great, you think, there’s different species in the same genus for these fucks. Perhaps 8 feet tall is more accurate.

You adjust your hold and cock the shotgun.

The werewolf is gone in a blink.

Your pulse picks up and you whirl on your heel, shotgun still raised. These things are fast, always are but they’re also big. How hard is it to shoot one?

The sound of a branch breaking has you whirling around, finger on the trigger to take the shot —

A claw strikes out at you and catches on your belt, ripping it like it’s paper. Your belt and the bullets in their holster disappear from your waist, your pants ripped and a superficial gash in your hip. You lose your footing on a protruding root and fall onto your back, barely keeping your head from slamming against a thick root.

The werewolf drops onto all fours legs, standing over you, its front paws planted on either side of your head. Its warm breath fans against your face, your arms. Its teeth are bared. Saliva dribbles from its maw.

You spare a glance away from its face to assess your situation — maybe there’s a way to roll out from underneath it and scramble towards your shotgun, wherever it landed. Instead, you find yourself staring at its bulbous member, fully erect. It’s long and thick, precum glistening on its tip. You look away, heat flooding to your cheeks and cunt. In your defense, it looked at you first.

You slowly draw your foot back and strike out, hit the beast’s hind leg. It howls in pain and you scramble out from underneath it, roll onto your stomach and stumble upright. Your shotgun is just a few steps to the right.

A heavy weight slams into you from behind and sends you onto the ground. Your jaw collides with the ground and your teeth snap together. You groan, rest your weight on one elbow and place your free hand against your jaw, pressing against the sore muscles. Hot breath fans the back of your exposed neck and something heavy and slick presses against the flesh of your hip. U kick again and scramble forward, your gun just about in reach. Claws swipe at ur body, snag on your shirt and tatter ur barely intact pants.

The cool night air hits your throbbing cunt. You try to ignore it, want to ignore it so bad, to finish the job and go take care of yourself — the werewolf shoves its fanged snout against the back of your neck. You still, heart leaping in your chest. Its heavy member rests on the swell of your ass, hips rocking back and forth, shallow thrusts as if it’s looking for a warm hole. Your pussy clenches at the thought.

It finds that warm hole, pressing its cock against your entrance, just barely breaching it, and you groan. It’s not going to fit but damned if the beast won’t try to make it fit. Maybe it will fit. The wolf grabs your waist — fuck, it’s hand is big enough to nearly wrap around your entire torso — and jerks its hips forward. You gasp as it pushes in all at once, filling you so completely, so deliciously that you nearly see stars. It’s so big and thick, you swear you can feel every vein and ridge of it.

The wolf snarls, beads of saliva dripping onto the back of your neck and thrusts forward shallowly. You struggle onto your knees. It pulls out shallowly and thrusts back in until the bulb at the bottom of its shaft nudges against your pussy.

Heat pools in your stomach as the werewolf drags its cock in and out of your hot cunt. The ridges and veins of his cock feel like bliss, have you gasping for air. Its furry hips connect with yours, the sound of your bodies colliding muffled by his coat. But you’re so wet, every thrust into your sopping cunt is nothing but a wet squelch. It thrusts in without resistance, going in all the way and pulling out with ease. It pushes so deep into you, drags against your walls like nobody ever has. Your thighs are wet, almost shaking at the strain of holding yourself up on all fours.

Your hand slips out from underneath you and your shoulder collides with the ground. The werewolf presses forward — it mounts you, places a clawed hand next to your head for balance and drives in with newfound vigor. The tip of its cock hit so deep in you that you nearly see stars, try to blabber something, something incoherent between ‘no’ and ‘yes’ and ‘more’ and ‘please please please please’. The wolf pistons in and out of our shopping cunt. Its tongue lolls out of its mouth, slobbers onto the back of your neck. The bulb at his crotch nudges against our opening with every thrust and dives slightly in each time. It’s wide and big and you gasp a pitiful sound when it slips into you with a painful stretch. It’s too much and too little at the same time. You try to clench around it.

The werewolf pauses and you want to cry out, beg it to keep going, to bully its way into your pussy until you can take its knot. You’re so full, so full, this thing is everywhere, in your pussy, in your guts, in the back of your throat. All you can manage is a pitiful croak before the beast is back on you again, resting its weight on your back. It picks up the pace, ruthlessly pistoning into you, bullying your throbbing, leaking pussy, rutting his bulb against it, almost stuffing it inside. It places one large clawed hand onto your thigh and pulls it to the side like that will give it more room. Perhaps it does but the stretch of your cunt and your thighs is too overwhelming to not focus on.

You press back against him as much as u can from your contorted position, meet his hips with urs in a frantic attempt to get your release. Your chest heaves as you attempt to match his pace, pressure building in the pit of your stomach. You’re babbling now, you absolutely are, begging for it to push you over the edge and stuff you full. It speeds up as if it understands you, pressing its weight on top you. Your cheek scrapes against the ground and in the corner of your eye, you can make out the bulge in your stomach as the werewolf thrusts in. It’s too much, too good, too deep, rubbing against that spot, knocking the breath from your lungs with every thrust.

You come with a wail, pussy throbbing and clenching around its cock, sucking it back in to keep it there. The wolf howls, head thrown back and buries its knot inside you. Its cock spasms and spills into you. Rope after rope of hot cum coasts your insides until you’re full, and then some. You feel it slide down your thighs, dribble from your pussy. You try to adjust yourself to get a look and clench involuntarily around the beast when you spot the shape of his cock protruding from your stomach.

The cool night air feels pleasant against your heated skin.

You look away from the unholy sight buried in your guts and let your eyes unfocus to bask in your post-orgasmic bliss.

One, two, three, four —

There are at least four pairs of yellow eyes observing you from the darkness.

note: I'm open to hearing about dead batteries!! be as graphic or non-graphic as you'd like:)

banner & divider by @/cafekitsune

#monster x reader #monster x human #teratophillia #werewolf x reader #werewolf x human #werewolf x you #werewolf smut #monster fucker #monster x you #monster boyfriend #monster imagine

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skyvolt120 · 5 days ago

Text

The Scarlet Sanctuary: The First Visit

Cult Leader!Wanda x Female!Reader

Prologue | The First Visit | The Return

Word Count: 1750

General Warnings: Manipulation, Obsession, Power imbalance, Creepy vibes, Loneliness, Cult undertones, Grooming

Author Note: 3 people told me to continue, so I did. Yay. I may have planned abt 3-4 future parts. Not sure when I will write them, but they are outlined (Yes, i do outline my fics). I've opened my requests, can't promise I will be able to do them, but I love writing fics for people. Also, if you don't have a request, but want to say hi or share anything (im always looking for new song recs) do that too. <3

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You try to forget her.

At first, you even manage to convince yourself you have. When you get home that night, you toss the little red scrap of silk into the top drawer of your nightstand, half out of politeness, half because it feels wrong to throw it away.

You tell yourself she was just a strange woman in a parking lot with pretty eyes and a strange way of looking at you, someone you’ll never see again, someone you shouldn’t even think about. You don’t believe in things like that—mystical strangers or fated encounters. You tell yourself you’re not the kind of person who falls for cheap flattery and cryptic invitations. You are practical. Rational. Level-headed.

But that night, when you finally collapse into bed after your closing shift, her words come back to you all the same.

"You’re hurting. I can feel it."

You squeeze your eyes shut and roll over, shoving your face into the pillow.

You don’t want her to be right.

The next morning comes too early. You drag yourself out of bed, throw on the same uniform you’d crumpled on the chair last night, and trudge out the door without bothering with makeup. The café is already busy by the time you arrive, the line nearly out the door, your manager barking orders at you as soon as you clock in. The steam hisses and the bells ring and the blender whines, and by ten o’clock you already feel like your body is running on autopilot, your smile strained and brittle.

You catch sight of yourself in the stainless steel reflection of the espresso machine at one point and freeze. The image that looks back at you seems older somehow, more tired. There’s something hollow in your eyes that you hadn’t noticed before, and for a moment you hear her voice again, soft and smoky, inescapable.

"You carry pain like a weight. Heavy on your shoulders."

You jerk your gaze away and throw yourself back into work.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of orders and foam and syrup. You say the right words, smile at the right moments, but the entire time you feel the weight of it sitting just under your ribs, that inexplicable ache she’d called out as if she’d known you your whole life.

At home that night, the silence of your apartment feels heavier than usual. The air is stale and cool, the walls too close. You microwave leftovers and eat standing at the counter, scrolling through your phone. Your ex has posted pictures from some beach somewhere, smiling into someone else’s arms. The sight makes your stomach knot in ways you don’t care to name. You mute their account, set the phone face down, and stand there staring at nothing for a long time.

It’s only when you go to plug in your charger later that you find it again. The little red scrap, sitting there in the drawer where you left it. You pick it up and run your fingers over the embroidery.

It’s warm, somehow.

You tell yourself it couldn’t hurt just to see what kind of place this really is.

You’re just curious.

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Saturday comes and you find yourself driving out of the city almost without deciding to. You don’t even bother changing out of your uniform. The address from the flyer sits neatly folded on the passenger seat, and you keep telling yourself the same thing over and over: you’re just curious. You can leave any time you want.

The sun has just set when you turn onto the long, quiet road that winds through the woods. The trees are tall and dark, crowding close, their branches clawing at the fading light. But just when the dusk starts to feel too heavy, you see it. A discreet wooden sign painted white with simple black lettering: The Scarlet Sanctuary.

You turn onto the gravel driveway and slow to a crawl, tires crunching over loose stones. The building that rises up ahead isn’t what you expect.

It’s big, yes, but it doesn’t feel imposing. The wood siding is painted a soft white, with black shutters and warm golden light spilling out from the windows. Twinkle lights are strung along the porch beams, glowing gently. There are flower beds out front and a small fountain bubbling in a stone basin. The air smells faintly of roses and fresh earth.

It looks… nice.

Normal.

It looks like somewhere you could stay.

You sit in your car for a moment gripping the steering wheel. Then you take a breath, shove your keys in your pocket, and climb out.

The door opens on warm air and a faintly floral, woodsy scent that makes your chest loosen for the first time all day. The lobby is quiet, lined with shelves of books and candles in shallow glass bowls.

A young woman at the front desk looks up and smiles.

“Welcome to the Sanctuary,” she says softly, like she was expecting you.

You hesitate. “I just… got a flyer. I was curious.”

Her smile doesn’t falter. “That’s why most people come. You’re welcome to look around.”

Her voice is gentle, reassuring. Without quite meaning to, you follow her through a wide hallway, passing small cozy rooms where other people lounge on cushions, sip tea, write in journals. In one room a small group sits cross-legged on mats, eyes closed in silent meditation. Everyone seems calm here, like they belong.

You’re just starting to wonder how to slip away when she appears.

At the top of the stairs.

Leaning lazily against the banister, as if she owns the place.

Wanda.

Her eyes find yours instantly, and she smiles like she already knew you’d come.

“Hello, darling,” she calls down, her accent curling around the words.

You freeze.

She comes down the stairs unhurriedly, and when she reaches you, she tilts her head, eyes sharp and bright.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” she murmurs.

You swallow, your voice small. “I just wanted to see.”

Her mouth curves slightly. “And now you have.”

Her hand finds yours before you can think to stop her, warm and sure. “Come,” she says.

She leads you to a small sitting room with bookshelves and a low table already set with tea.

You sit because she asks you to.

She pours you a cup and asks questions about your work, your apartment, what brought you here. At first, you answer curtly, but something about the way she listens, like every word matters, makes it easy to keep talking.

You tell her more than you meant to. You tell her about how quiet the apartment is, about how sometimes you don’t bother calling anyone because you don’t want to bother them.

When you stop, embarrassed, she reaches out and lays her hand over yours.

“You carry so much,” she says softly. “No wonder you’re so tired.”

And you have nothing to say to that.

When you finally stand to leave, it’s fully dark outside. She walks you to the door, her hand light on your back.

“You’re welcome any time,” she whispers, tucking the silk back into your palm.

Then she leans in close, her lips grazing your cheek.

“Take care of yourself.”

The scent of roses clings to your skin all the way home.

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#wanda #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #marvel #wanda maximoff x reader #cult leader!wanda maximoff #cult #dark wanda x reader #dark!wanda maximoff #dark wanda maximoff #lgbtq #wlw #sapphic #lesbians #wuh luh wuh #girl kisser #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #wanda x you

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captainpriceslilwife · 10 days ago

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thinking about our wonderful sweet johnny meeting his soulmate at the sex shop he frequents. he's a freak. we all know this. but he's not freaky with just his partners! the man has a whole host of toys to use on himself when he's in between relationships and hookups, because he'd be damned if he waited on someone else to get his rocks off.

they all know him there (he gave up on flirting with the hot, tatted cashier in the front months ago) and he's got zero shame when it comes to the basket full of toys he's always carrying around the store. fleshlights, cockrings, plugs, pumps, lube, straps - you name it, he's bought it.

insert you - a pretty little thing who is so far out of her element that johnny can practically smell it on you when you shuffle past him to make your way to the back corner with all of the cheap, first-time vibrators lined on the wall.

you've got your arms wrapped around yourself so tightly that johnny can see the the outline of your figure beneath the oversized hoodie you've put on (presumably to hide yourself from view - unluckily for you, johnny can see right through any attempts to cover up a baddie in his presence)

you poor thing - you've got your head on a swivel as if someone is going to come yell at you for buying something so 'scandalous' (as if you aren't the most innocent one in here) and you can't seem to sit still as you shift back and forth on your feet, nervously glancing over at him every two seconds to make sure he isn't watching you as you browse through your pretty pastel options. but of course he's watching.

he watches from the corner of his eye as you awkwardly pick up one of the display vibrators, only to nearly jump out of your skin when it starts buzzing loudly.

'oh shit!' he can hear your pitiful panicked whisper as you frantically click the buttons along the side of the vibrator - only to make it buzz even louder as it begins to thrust wildly into the air. 'oh my god, oh my god, oh god...'

and that's when johnny swoops in like the angel (incubus) he is - taking the overexcited toy from your hands and deftly holding down the middle button to shut it down while you fight off the shame threatening to take over.

"oh my goodness, thank you!"

if the sight of your precious self holding a thrusting vibrator wasn't enough to make him chub up in his pants, the sound of your sweet, embarassed voice certainly did the trick. luckily you're so caught up in your awkwardness that you don't even notice the way he adjusts his pants as he places the vibrator back on its stand.

"i-i never....i don't do...this. i don't-" god, you seem so flustered. red cheeks and stuttered words - and it only seems to get worse when you finally work up the courage to spare him two seconds of eye contact, only to realize that the man who helped you is hot. "i'm really sorry. this is so embarrassing, i-"

"aye, it's alright, bonnie. ah'm not judging." his charming smile seems to soothe your embarrassment a bit, but your cheeks are still bright pink as he moves to pick up his basket again. "first time fer everything, ya ken?"

"r-right, yes, i- oh..." he nearly laughs in your face at the way your eyes widen like saucers when you glance into his basket to see the horde of toys he's accumulated, but you quickly look away like you've broken some unspoken rule for sex-shop ettiquette. which, maybe you have, but johnny can't bring himself to care as he takes his time to glance over the options that you had been aimlessly perusing through.

"ye'd have better luck investing in a nice one. these one's'll die on ye right when things are gettin' good."

sweet thing you are...you're absolutely mortified.

the thought of this man rescuing you from public embarrassment was something entirely different than him helping you to pick out something to masturbate with.

"oh, that's...i-i don't really think-"

but its too late - he's already walking towards over to the display of sleek, professional hitachi wands and looking back over his shoulder to make sure you're following.

and of course you follow, because he seems so sure of himself and your hands are still shaking from your brief interaction with that plastic purple toy that seemed like it was out to get you.

and obviously, he's got to get you some sex toy cleaner. and lube. and maybe he tries to introduce you to some of the other fun stuff around the store, but he backs off the second you start avoiding eye contact with him again. luckily if he turns the charm back on, you seem to warm up pretty quickly again.

and he thinks its so cute how you hold your new findings so close to your chest like you're trying to hide it from him, even though he's the one who put it right into your hands (all while trying to picture the face you'd make when you finally decided to indulge and use them)

of course, you're so grateful for his help by the end! not grateful enough to give johnny what you're sure he's hoping for, but you do very shyly ask for his number - just in case you need help again.

someday he'll convince you to let him hold that vibrator to your clit until you're seeing stars and crying out his name - but until then, he'll settle for the awkward wave you give him as you part ways in the parking lot.

him and his two bags full of toys are about to have a very good night now that he's got a bonnie lass to think about while he uses them.

#did not proofread this IM SORRY #hopefully this is alright #i havent uploaded anything in a hot minute #and im writing this while on vacation at the table with family friends lmaooooo #johnny soap mctavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #johnny soap mctavish #johnny soap mctavish x you #john soap mactavish #cod x reader

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latenightdaydreams · 1 year ago

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König x Stalker!Reader (fem)

MDNI🔞

Part 2, Part 3, Part 3.2

Master List ✍🏽

>cw: fem/afab, stalking, masturbation, voyeurism

📸

You watch from a distance as König, your neighbor, goes for his early morning jog. It’s become a part of your routine to follow him. A camera in your hands taking pictures, focused in on his muscular arms and legs; eyes lingering on the way his cock bounces underneath the fabric of his sweatpants. What you wouldn’t do to see his cock, have his sweaty balls fill your mouth?

Quickly, you snap out of it when a person walks by. You have to shift focus and pretend that you’re taking photos of geese in the pond nearby. You watch as König gets away from you. A wave of annoyance rushes through you. You’re missing precious time you could have spent with König.

In frustration, you turn and walk to the entrance of the park, walking slowly so hopefully you’ll run into König before going back home. As you look through the trees, you try your best to see König, but they’re just too dense to see anything. The gate for the park approaches, and König is nowhere to be found. You leave the park, looking down at the photos you took of him today.

“Hallo! Y/n!” You hear König’s Austrian accent, like music to your ears.

You turn to see König walking towards you. His black shirt is sweaty and clinging to his chiseled, perfect body. His package was basically outlined in his sweats. He’s a gift from the gods to anyone who loves masculine people. You’d let him do the most depraved things to you.

“Hey!” Your voice is cheery as if you aren’t thinking about being his little free use house wife.

“What are you doing out so early?” König’s pale blue eyes drop to the camera in your hands. “Wildlife photography?”

“Uh—yes. I used to do photography in college, so I decided to pick it back up.” Not a complete lie.

“That’s cool.” König puts his massive hands on his broad hips, taking his time to look at you. “Are you walking back home?”

“I am.”

“I’ll walk with you.”

König walks forward and slows his pace so he can walk side by side with you. Inside, you’re freaking out. This will be the first time you spend more than a passing moment with him. The first time you’ll be able to get to know him more than what you’ve been able to dig and find out about him.

Married once, no children, and didn’t last more than eight months. Colonel of Kortac, an only child. His birthday is in the winter months, and he appears to be very content with being alone. Other than one handsome Asian man, you’ve never seen anyone visit him.

Dread fills you as you approach your homes. König, being a gentleman, walks you to your door. You’d want nothing more than to invite him in, but then you’d have to explain all of the photos of him you have in your home. What if he’s into it? Thinks it's attractive to have someone so dedicated? No, that’s crazy.

“Well, Fräulein. This is where I leave you. Have a great rest of your day.” König smiles at you, his eyes tracing over your body as you turn and unlock your door.

“Thank you, König. See you later.” You turn back to wave goodbye awkwardly.

You watch as König walks to him door, making sure to close yours first so he doesn’t realize that you were watching the whole time. Once inside you let out a deep sigh, if only it could have gone farther. As you kick off your shoes, you remember that at least you got some nice photos of him at the park.

In your bedroom, you sit at your desk and upload your photos. You take time to sit and gaze at each one. Trying to commit to memory every bulging vein or scar. His massive hands, how would those fingers feel being shoved into your cunt? Whenever you spend so much time looking at König, you can’t help how absolutely wet you get.

Not being able to resist, you walk to your bedside table and grab your 8-inch dildo that you’ve nicknamed ‘König’. From under your pillow, you pull out your laptop and begin to watch videos you’ve been able to take of König at the gym, in the park, and taking out the trash.

Your pussy already wet, accepts the dildo easily, a whimper leaving your lips from the rush of pleasure. On the screen you focus on König’s cock and balls bouncing when he walks or jogs. The way his light gray sweats always get so wet when he’s at the gym. You’d love to be a part of his workout routine. If he was here just lifting up in the air, thrusting into you as he counts out each rep in complete ecstasy.

König sits at his desk, stroking his cock with a pair of your underwear wrapped around it. Loud huff leaving his lips as the hidden camera picks up the perfect view of you stretching your cunt with that dildo. If only you knew he was so much bigger than that. He’s not sure your poor pussy could handle him, but he’s 100% sure you’d be eager to try.

The audio from the device picking up the sound of your cunt getting creamy, so loud it matches your moans. You call out for König, begging him to make you cum. Soon, Liebling. So soon.

“Fuck—” König moans out, his Adams apple bobbing as he tilts his head back. His cock throbs in his hand as his warm cum covers your panty and himself. “Y/n…fuck.” A softer moan leaves his lips as he relaxes. His eyes still glued to the screen as you lay there half naked.

Part 2, Part 3, Part 3.2

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bey0nd-1he-stars · 5 months ago

Text

Yours - Jacaerys Velaryon

Masterlist

Pairing: modern!hockeyplayer!Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Word count: 1732 (I named the document I wrote this in "HotD micro fics" ... that went well)

Warnings: Fights, blood, insecurity

Summary: Jace storms off the ice in the middle of his game of hockey and you run after him to find out what happened, and to give him some comfort.

“Hey- Jace!” you stumble down from the bleachers and hurry after him. Even with skates on, he walks faster than you. He disappears down into the locker rooms, the door swinging shut with a loud bang behind him. He’d gotten into a fight on the ice and gotten benched but, in his fury, he’d stomped away from the whole game, dropping his helm and stick on the floor.

You were wearing his jersey, his last name written on the back in bold, blocky letters. The bright colour of the text, along with what had happened on the ice a few minutes ago, turned some heads when you hurried down to the locker room, shouting his name to try and make him wait for you; without any success.

The door seems to be almost mocking you where you stand, catching your breath. The black paint is peeling away at some edges around the frame, revealing the old red colour underneath. You picked up Jace’s helmet and stick on the way, holding it in one hand as you press down the handle with the other.

When you push the door open the strip of light that comes from the door lights up Jace where he’s sat on the bench, head in his hands. As you let the door slip close behind you, he looks up and the split second of light you have before the door slips shut shows you a split lip and a bloody nose. The door closes behind you with an echoing bang and the two of you are left in darkness.

“Don’t turn the lights on,” Jace asks as you move to do just that. You furrow your eyebrows but do as he asks. Instead you cross the floor, having been in here enough times to know your way around, even in the dark. You place his things on the floor before him and he mumbles a quiet “thank you.”

“What happened?” you ask gently as you go to the toilet to get some paper for his bloody face. The outline of his slumped body is what guides you back to him and he tilts his head back at your request and you sit down beside him, gently pressing the paper to his nose to stop the blood from getting all over his hockey gear.

“Just got pissed off,” he mutters from behind the tissue and you raise an eyebrow at him in the dark.

“You got pissed off?” You questioned with the disbelief dripping in your voice. “You’ve never walked out on a match and I am to believe that the first and only time that has happened, it’s simply because you got ‘pissed off’?” You’re close enough to him to see that he gives you a defeated look.

“I don’t wanna talk about it,” is his response and you sigh but accept it.

“Alright,” you whisper to him, keeping quiet in the dark so as to not disturbed the peace. The sounds of the game are muffled through the walls but they keep out the complete silence. Within a few minutes, his nose stops bleeding and you gently remove the tissue from his nose and Jace carefully tilts his head back up, being careful not to make it bleed again. You go to throw away the bloody paper and to bring some clean tissues that are slightly wet to clean up the blood from his face. Jace sits in silence as he lets you take care of him, eyes closed and breathing heavy.

You’re leaning close to him, the dark making it hard to see if you’ve gotten all the cuts cleaned. You can feel his breath fan over your face as you work and you have to stop yourself from leaning forward to kiss his bruised lips.

“There,” you mumble as you’re finished. His eyes blink open and even in the dark you can see the hazel colour glimmering.

“You wanna finish the game?” you ask, sitting down again beside him and pushing a stray lock of dark hair behind his ear. He shakes his head, still silent.

“Alright.” You don’t want to press him. He’s never stormed off the ice like this before and you don’t really know the reason, so you settle for being understanding and kind. He seems to appreciate it.

“Let’s go home?” he asks silently, and you nod. Without a word, you kneel down on the floor before him, starting to untie his skates for him as he pulls his shirt off and starts to take off all the gear. When the skates are off, he pushes down the knee pads and you both hang it all up in his locker, the clothes Jace puts in his bag and you hold up his jacket for him before you step out into the light again.

You both blink, the harsh light stinging in your eyes. Jace is quick to grab your hand in his, pulling you out of the stadium and into his car. He opens the passenger door for you as you get in with a gentle ‘thanks’ before he pushes the door closed again. You watch as he rounds the car and gets in beside you. He starts the car, the engine roaring to life and then he backs the car out of the parking lot with his hand splayed across your thigh.

After a few minutes of silence, he finally speaks up. His voice breaks and he refuses to look you in the eyes.

“They- they talked about you,” he whispers and you turn to look at him with wide eyes. He’d left the game because of that? But before you can question it, he continues.

“Said I don’t deserve you, that you should- should be with someone like them.”

His words leave you completely astonished.

“What? I- I would never!” Your words are soft and kind, not at all angry or upset. You know Jace has problems with his insecurities, some days are worse than others. And you also know that this is less about your preference for a boyfriend and more about what he thinks he’s worthy of.

Jace shakes his head, hand slipping from your leg but you grab ahold of it before his touch disappears.

“Hey, Jace,” you coax, trying to get him to show that he’s listening. “I’m yours. And I love being yours, okay? I wouldn’t want it any other way.”

He nods and swallows harshly, “you say that now, but-“

“No but,” you cut him off. “I mean it.” He’s parked the car now, the big house that belongs to the Targaryens tower before you. Rhaenyra passes by one of the big windows and waves through the glass to you as she walks by. You get out of the car and round it, opening Jace’s door for him but he doesn’t move.

“Look, I don’t know what they said to you out on the ice,” you begin, reaching out to turn his face towards you. He opens his mouth to tell you, tears in his eyes now, but you shake your head, shushing him gently.

“But the truth? It doesn’t matter.” Jace looks down, nodding slowly.

“I know,” he sighs, “but- I just, I can’t help but let it get to me.” You lean forward, pressing a kiss to his temple, not really wanting to hurt his already split lip.

“Jace, love-” are the only words you get out before Jace cuts you off. He pulls you down into his lap, minding your head so you don’t hit it on the way, then he captures your lips in a searing kiss. You try to pull away when you hear the huff of pain he lets out but he wraps his arms around your waist, pressing you close.

And you can’t help but lose yourself in him, hands coming up to bury themselves in his luscious curls. He kisses you with desperation, but it’s so soft and so sweet. You let him indulge in the act, let him swipe his tongue across your bottom lip and kiss you like that’ll make all the problems in the world disappear.

You pull away with a gasp but you barely get one breath of air down your lungs before he’s back against your lips.

”I don’t think I’d survive losing you,” he whispers the words against your lips, so close you can feel the puffs of air from the short phrase bounce against your skin.

You shake your head, “you never have to find out.”

“Promise?” And he seems so small and innocent at that moment, big, wet eyes seeking yours.

You nod, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“I promise.”

He takes a deep breath and nods.

“Okay,” he agrees and now it’s your time to nod. You press another kiss to his temple and he sags forward into you, falling into your embrace and snuggling close to the warmth radiation from you. His cheek comes to rest over your heart and your hands tangle themselves in his dark curls. You lose track of time, just holding Jace close and letting him hold you. After a while, the sound of the front door being opened breaks through the silence and you look up to see Rhaenyra stand in the doorframe, a soft look on her face and a thankful smile.

“Everything alright?” she wonders gently, tilting her head slightly. Your eyes meet Jace’s and he gives you a short nod.

“Yeah,” you assure her with a small smile.

“Alright,” Rhaenyra nods, a crooked smile on her lips, “dinner’s in five, if you want to join us.” Both you and Jace nod and she steps inside again, shutting the door softly behind her and giving you all the time you need.

“Can we eat in my room?” Jace asks as you coax him out of the car, keeping a hold of his hand in yours. Your laugh billowes through the air as you take in his sheepish expression.

“And leave your mother waiting?”

“No, we’ll tell her,” he protests as he grabs his bag from the backseat. You smile up at him, tugging him close to press a loving kiss against his lips.

“Fine,” you agree when you pull away, “but you’re the one telling her.” Jace agrees quickly and the wide smile that finally reaches his eyes and shines up his whole demeanor is reward enough.

#house of the dragon #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon season 2 #house of the dragon x reader #hotd x reader #hotd fanfic #hotd #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys x reader #hotd jacaerys #modern!jacaerys velaryon #hockey player!jacaerys velaryon #modern au #hockey player au #harry collett

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