#THAT'S ALL I SEE JUST THE CAR DRIVING DOWN THE HIGHWAY
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weirdgenetic-fuckup · 2 days ago
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Current James seducing a younger+naive reader? Lying to her that he’ll pull out but instead filling her up? Of course after a few months she ends up pregnant and she’s scared but that was his plan all along?
A/n: I wrote a good chunk of this story and then my computer glitched and I FUCKING LOST IT I'm losing my mind :D
Warnings: smut, daddy kink, size kink, belly bulge, age gap, breeding kink, mirror sex, dubious consent, if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!
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You were part of the crew for the 72 Seasons tour, mostly just running errands for the rest of the crew but occasionally you'd get jobs straight from the band.
James saw you around and thought you were cute, young and innocent, perfect for him, so he made it his mission to talk to you as much as possible; at the airport, on bus rides, backstage, wherever he could find you.
This continued after the tour, he got your number and used it regularly to see how you were doing, inviting you over for dinners, cooking and cleaning while he was on call with you.
It was on one of your dinners that he planned to finish what he'd started.
"Sorry for the late notice, I wasn't planning on dinner." He said to you over the phone, leaning back into the seat of his car as he drove up the highway on one of his drives. "I just had a bad day, you know? Dealing with Lars... I just want to see you, sweetheart." He said, knowing the petname made your knees weak.
"I'll be there soon, Jamie, just let me get ready." You responded, already closing the app you were ordering dinner from.
"I'm sure you'll look pretty no matter what you've got on." He said, grin widening. "Especially if you've got nothing on." Your brain short-circuited at that and he laughed at your silence. "I'll get dinner started before you get here." He ended the call with a dorky kiss, something you were used to from him.
It was late, which was exactly what he wanted. There wasn't a practice, no plans for a new album, there was nothing. James spent all day at home just waiting for the perfect chance to talk to you.
Everything went as usual, you talked and laughed and ate and when it was time to clean the dishes James acted like he hadn't even considered how late it would be when it was time for you to head home.
"Why don't you just stay here?" He offered. "It's too late to drive, just stay the night."
You thought it over in your head, it was late, you didn't feel like driving. You took James up on his offer and let him lead you through the maze of a house he had to a room once you were done with the dishes.
He'd given you a tour of his house before but it was huge and you always got lost, the only rooms you knew were the kitchen, the bathroom nearest to it, and the living room, though you didn't spend much time there. You didn't think twice when James showed you to his room, you didn't know it was his.
The door closed behind him and his lips were on yours in an instant, hands roaming your body, mentally mapping out every curve of your figure while pulling you out of your clothes until you were left in just your underwear in front of him.
He tugged at the lacey band of your panties. "Who were you wearing these for, sweetheart?" He let go of the strap and it snapped back to your skin, making you jump. "Just wanted to feel pretty under your clothes?"
You bit your lip as he spoke to you, looking down at you with a dark lust swirling in his eyes.
Without a response he led you further into the room. You stood in front of the mirrored closet doors, saw how James towered over you, how his hands held your hips. "I'm gonna ruin you, sweetheart." He leaned down, lips caressing the shell of your ear as he whispered. "And you're gonna watch, and you're gonna love every fucking second of it, isn't that right?"
You nodded, thighs pressing together. "Yes, Jamie, of-of course." He chuckled at your eagerness, the shine in your eyes evident.
"Keep that energy, sweetheart, and I'll give you anything you want." He said as he pulled his shirt over his head. You'd seen him shirtless before, he often showed you his tattoos and muscles, he liked showing off and you indulged his habits.
His jeans followed shortly afterwards and his boxers didn't stay for long. He was eager to be inside you.
He pushed his hard cock against your ass, calloused hands on your waist. "Take them off for me." He said, looking over you in the mirror.
You reached behind your back and unclipped your bra, letting the straps fall limply off your shoulders and to the ground before pushing your panties down to your ankles and kicking them off, leaving you just as naked as he was.
His arms wrapped around you, holding you tight to him. One arm went over your chest while the other went to your stomach, hand moving lower and his fingers slipped between your folds.
James groaned, feeling how wet you were already. He slipped a finger into you with ease. You gasped as he did so, back arching. "Oh, you're naughty." He said, danger in his voice. "Already played with yourself earlier, didn't you?" You swallowed thickly and gave a small nod. "Just couldn't wait, could you?"
You shook your head. "I-I'm sorry, Jamie, every-every time I come over I have to." You looked at him through the mirror, a pout tugging at your lips as you did. "I just think about you and I-I can't help myself." You rambled, thighs pressing together again around his hand.
"Got yourself all prepped for daddy." He mused, kissing your cheek and moving down to your neck. "Such a good little thing." He pulled his finger out of you and brought his hand to his cock, giving it a few good pumps. "Just stay pretty for daddy while he fucks you, yeah?" You nodded eagerly, pushing your hips back on him.
James pushed his tip through your folds, gathering your wetness before pushing into you and bottoming out with one thrust. You moaned loudly, knees buckling at the stretch but James held you up right.
He brought his hand back to your hip, holding you in place while he gave you time to adjust. "Fuck, you're so tight." He groaned, looking over you in the mirror again, the slight bulge that formed in your stomach from his cock.
He pulled back only to slam back into you, drawing another moan from you. His eyes never left the bump in your gut, watching it come and go with every thrust. His hold on your hips tightened as his thrusts got faster and harsher, all to see you come undone at his hands.
"That's it, sweetheart, don't take your eyes off the mirror." He cooed, resting his chin on your shoulder, guiding your gaze to the mirror in front of you so you could see the way your body jolted with every buck of his hips, the way your face morphed in pleasure. "Such a perfect little thing for daddy." He mused.
You were clenching around his pulsing cock, aching for release. A realization dawned on you and your eyes widened. "Condom!" You said, grabbing at his arm over your chest. "We-we need a-agh, oh god, a-a condom."
James huffed, irritation slipping into his mind at your worry. "Don't worry about that, just relax." He said, lips going back to your neck.
"Jamie, we-we need a condom, what if-!"
"I'll pull out, alright?" He bit, turning your head with his hand so he could shut you up with a kiss. His other hand, the one on your hip, went back to your cunt, this time to rub your clit and snap the knot building in your gut.
You'd been waiting for James since the start of the tour, when he first talked to you. He was much older, you figured it would never happen, he saw you as a daughter that's why he called you sweetheart, why he always tried to cook for you and take care of you, why he wanted you close. That's what you told yourself, there was no way he was into you, it was all in your head.
He was buried deep inside you, groans becoming more frequent as he neared his own high while you rode out your own around his cock. Your eyes were glazed over, lips parted in a soft 'oh', you'd have no idea if he came inside you now.
He buried his face in the crook of your neck as he came, abdomen tightening with the last few thrusts to push his seed deep in you.
He turned you around, pushing right back into you the second he could to keep his cum in you to marinate. James carried you to the bathroom and set you down on the counter, your legs wrapped around his hips as he used a cloth to wipe you down, using warm water to clean the thin layer of sweat off your body.
It was late, you were tired, your body was tired, you fell asleep in his arms with his cock in you before he even finished cleaning up. It was perfect in his mind, he could carry you to bed and let you fall asleep on of him without worrying about you trying to get off him.
You stuck with him for a while after that, finally getting the relationship you wanted. James let you keep some things at his place, you weren't spending much time at your apartment anymore anyway so most of your clothes ended up there, not that you wore them in the house, usually opting for James's clothes.
James was sitting in bed, going through something on his phone when you hesitantly came out of the bathroom and crawled in next to him.
He wrapped his arm around you and pulled you tighter to his side. "What is it?" He asked, a smile already forming on his face. He knew what you were going to tell him.
Your hand trembled as you handed him a positive pregnancy test.
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harmonyrae · 4 hours ago
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Inked - Part 2
Synopsis: You convinced him to take you on a race, can you handle the consequences? And a trip to Paradise reveals a new layer to the underworld Rafayel is a part of & reveals more about his interesting relationship with Sylus.
Part One
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AN: This fanfic was inspired & entirely fueled by the artwork above, done by the amazing @obligatedart - thank you for letting me use your work as the cover art! Go check them out and see the other tattooed Rafayel pieces they’ve done. Comment if you want to be tagged for part 3 or any of my other fics.
Content Warnings: explicit language & sexual content, alcohol consumption, illegal street racing & evading, not-so-safe sex on a motorcycle, gambling, sassy Sylus, mentions of needles (tattoo needles, not medical), genital piercings, semi-public sex (if you squint), dom!Rafayel moments (bless), rough ROUGH, creampie, PiV, 18+ MDNI
Word Count: 15k 
Now Playing (for club scene): Fuck Around Find Out - Mobiius Alone - Mobiius Smolder - Mobiius
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“This should work. Don’t take off the jacket, gloves or helmet unless I say so, okay?”
Rafayel pulls a dark red leather jacket out of your closet. He digs through your dresser drawers and finds a black long sleeve shirt and your thickest pair of jeans, he tosses them on your bed. A pair of padded gloves and a white helmet with cute little light up cat ears sits on your dresser. You shrug your hoodie off and start to unbutton your skirt, Rafayel lays back on your bed and hums.
“Enjoying the show?”
“Well, there’s no music and you’re too far away, so no.”
You shake your head and continue getting changed. Once you have your pants and long sleeve on, you sit to lace up your moto boots. Rafayel shifts to sit behind you, he wraps his legs around you and removes the clip holding your hair up. You turn to reprimand him, but you feel him gather your hair and section it into three sections.
“Are you braiding my hair?”
He doesn’t answer, instead his fingers weave your hair together with ease. 
“When did you learn to braid hair?”
“Talia taught me. We would go swimming after I’d get out of school and she’d always get her hair caught in a reef. So she taught me to braid her hair. I got pretty good at it too. She had me do her hair for her wedding.”
“Talia’s married?”
Your high-pitched squeak makes Rafayel laugh. He secures your braid with a hair tie from around his wrist. 
“Her husband is very open-minded.”
You lean back against him and he kisses your temple. 
“Race starts at 9.”
You get up and zip up your leather jacket. Rafayel helps tighten your gloves and adjusts your helmet. He snaps the visor down and leads you through your living room - which is much too dark with the visor down. 
You’re surprised when you see his car parked in the garage. You put your hands on your hips.
“I thought…”
“That I’d bring my racing bike here? No, cutie. That would be silly.”
His mocking sing-song voice makes you growl, you pout - even though he can’t see it - and cross your arms.
“I’m sorry, I’ll stop. Come on, let me show you my lair.”
You can’t stop yourself from giggling.
“You have a lair? Like Batman? You’re – wait, if we weren’t getting on your bike, why am I wearing my helmet already?”
He opens the passenger door and looks back at you, his hand on his hip.
“Cause you’re just so cute with your little kitty ears.”
You open your visor so he can see you dramatically roll your eyes. He places a hand on top of your helmet to make sure you don’t bump your head when you sink into his car.
After driving through downtown for almost half an hour, Rafayel finally takes a back alley and approaches a man dressed in all black with a full face mask. Rafayel slows and nods at the man. As he drives past, Rafayel reaches over and opens the glove box to pull a mask out. He quickly puts it on before turning down another alley that leads to the highway. 
After a short drive, you can tell you’ve entered the no hunt zone. The cars that pass by are mostly armored and have tinted windows. The buildings are weathered with bars on the windows. Rafayel pulls up to a tall parking garage and heads to the basement level. You’re surprised to find a large garage door blocking off the lower level. Rafayel presses a button on his dash and the door opens. 
Inside, there’s row after row of expensive cars and a smaller selection of motorcycles of every make and model. Rafayel parks his car and hops out. You follow him to a white Kawasaki with dark red side panels and seat covers, the headlights also appear to be tinted red. Rafayel squats down next to the bike and runs his hand over the side panel down to the chain guard. He stands and pulls off his mask, tucking it into his jacket pocket.
“Good as new.”
He walks over to a wall with a huge shelving unit stocked with helmets. He picks up the helmet you saw that night at your apartment, now fully repaired. Rafayel sets the helmet on the seat of his bike and turns to you. With your visor still up, he tracks your eyes to his helmet.
“My team works fast.”
He reaches up and tugs at your helmet, checking the straps. He drops his hands to check your gloves… again.
“You’re nervous.”
He meets your gaze. 
“About having you on the back of my bike while I race through the city at breakneck speeds? Nervous doesn’t quite cut it.”
“I’ll be okay. I trust you.”
He sighs and stares at the floor. You reach up and hold his face in your hands. You don’t speak and he rests his forehead against your helmet. 
“Am I interrupting?”
Rafayel looks over your shoulder and he squeezes your hands, almost like an involuntary reflex. You start to turn but Rafayel tugs on your hands and you squint. You pull your hand free and turn to face a tall man in leather. You train your eyes over his apparel, black leather pants are tucked into combat boots, a black leather jacket with red and white lightning strikes adorning the sleeves and a fitted turtleneck. When you meet his eyes you gasp. Is this…?
“I don’t believe we’ve properly met. I’m Sylus.”
He extends his gloved hand and you hesitantly take it. Instead of shaking it, he lifts it to his lips, pressing a chaste kiss to your knuckles. You stare at his face, those dark red eyes sparkling behind silver lashes that match his hair. Those lips. You definitely remember them. And his voice… 
“I mean we’ve met, but –”
Rafayel steps up beside you, his arms crossed. Sylus lets go of your hand. His devious smirk tells you he is enjoying this introduction. Your cheeks flush and you wish you could close your visor without adding to Sylus’s ego.
“We should probably talk before the rest of the crew gets here.”
Sylus crosses his arms, mirroring Rafayel. 
“I assume she knows already?”
Rafayel nods, you notice his cheeks are flushed. Sylus was definitely the man from the party. Sylus… Ryūō… Rafayel knew who he was, that he was his friend, and let him… Oh, you were so forcing him to tell you the full story now.
“She does.”
“And she knows my alias?”
Rafayel nods. Sylus turns to face you. 
“And she knows what will happen if that information is… leaked?”
Rafayel steps forward, putting you slightly behind him. 
“She does.”
You huff and step up to stand beside both the men, facing both of them. 
“She can answer for herself. I’m not going to leak anything. You have enough to worry about with whoever this Onryō person is.”
Sylus tilts his head and gives you a once over. His smile returns. 
“Fair enough.” 
Rafayel rubs the back of his neck before continuing. 
“Onryō probably won’t show up at today’s race, it’s too risky. But they’ll probably be watching. My people are still trying to track them down, whoever they are they’re good at covering their tracks. I’ll update you with any changes.”
Sylus continues to stare at you. You can almost see the gears turning behind his eyes as he forms his opinion of you.
“Your people have two more days before my people get involved.”
Rafayel uncrosses his arms and opens his mouth to say something.
“Rafayel, I already have a bounty on my head and whoever this Onryō prick is, they’re giving the authorities the idea that they can actually catch me. And those cops weren’t traffic cops, they were professionals.”
Rafayel starts pacing, walking slow circles around you and Sylus. He pinches the bridge of his nose, wincing when he realizes he pinched his piercing. He adjusts it before continuing to rub his forehead. 
“Do you think Onryō is undercover?”
Sylus shrugs.
“Not sure. Could be. All I know is I’ll probably have to retire Stella.”
“Stella?”
You finally speak up, your brain trying to keep track of all the information.
“He names his bikes.”
“Stella was the bike I drove last week. Now the cops know her make and model, it’s too risky to take her to the shop for a wipe down.”
Rafayel paces around him.
“Fuck…”
“Mephisto’s monitoring the shop. He runs a background check for every client, nothing sus yet.” 
Rafayel stops pacing, he turns to face Sylus.
“Did you just say ‘sus’? Like, with all seriousness?”
“Luke and Kieran said ‘sus’ means suspicious.”
“Sylus, you’re too old to say shit like that.”
Sylus glares at Rafayel, which amuses Rafayel greatly.
“You’re one to talk.”
Rafayel raises his hands in mock surrender. 
“Mephisto is watching the shop, what about Xavier?”
“Xavier’s in the bunker. He’s been there since the race. He’s being taken care of.”
Rafayel nods. You put your hands on your hips and try to hold your tongue, you’re so lost. Rafayel notices and circles behind you, rubbing your shoulders.
“Xavier is our designer, he creates the tracks and controls the app that we use for races. He also... monitors police frequencies to keep us up to date on any investigations.”
“And Mephisto?”
“A bird.”
“That’s a gross mischaracterization.”
Rafayel laughs and drapes his arm around your shoulder. 
“I’m… ha! I’m sorry, but he is a bird. A mechanical bird but still a bird.”
Sylus crosses his arms again and huffs. Rafayel holds his breath, trying to stop laughing.
“Okay, sorry sorry. He’s a huge help, eyes in the sky - literally - which we desperately need right now. You built him, right Sy?”
Sylus nods. You cock your head.
“Two days Rafayel. I’m not waiting any longer than that.”
Rafayel’s smile falls and he stuffs his hand in his pocket.
“Fine. Two days.”
Sylus looks at you once again. 
“We should get to know each other better if you’re going to be involved in our… business.”
“She’s not involved Sylus.”
“Of course she’s involved.”
“She certainly is.”
Rafayel and Sylus look at you, both somewhat surprised by your response. You turn to Rafayel, forcing his arm off of your shoulder. 
“If it was as simple as trying to stop illegal street racing they wouldn’t have kicked your bike. If this person is trying to hurt you I want to know their motive. So yes, I am involved.”
“So dinner, Sunday. My base. 7 o’clock sound good for everyone? Good. I’ll see you both there.”
With that, Sylus turns and walks away. Rafayel clears his throat and walks back to his bike. You follow, wishing you could remove your helmet and kiss him until that frown vanishes.
“We don’t have to go, he’s just being a pain in the ass as always.” 
You walk over and mount his bike, taking the driver seat. He leans down and places a hand on the handlebar and another on the seat behind you.
“Whatcha doin cutie?”
“Getting comfortable for storytime.”
He wrinkles his nose and cocks his head to the side. 
“I could always ask Sylus for the story behind that debt he repaid at dinner on Sunday.”
Rafayel’s ears turn bright red and his cheeks soon follow. He shakes his head and drops his eyes to the floor. He’s been avoiding this conversation all week and you’ve let him, with his injury still healing. 
“You did say you’d explain later. It’s definitely later.”
Rafayel sighs and leans his head on your shoulder.
“Fine. Yes, Sylus was the guy at the party.”
“The guy who sucked your dick.”
Rafayel lifts his head to glare at you. You chuckle and cover where your mouth would be with your hand, giving him an apologetic look. 
“He did do that, yes. The debt was… fuck… okay…”
He straightens and hooks his thumbs in his pockets, trying to look casual while you knew he was boiling alive. 
“For the past few years, every time we line up to start a race, Sylus and I will give each other shit. He’ll say something about dusting me or beating my record and I’ll tell him to… ‘suck my dick’ - it became a tradition I guess.”
He stutters and you rest your chin on your fist, leaning against the gas tank in front of you.
“We set up a tournament and we got a little… too competitive. We decided to make a bet and… he said he’d follow through on my…” He raises his fingers to make air quotes. “‘Catch Phrase’ as he referred to it, if I beat him.”
“And you beat him.”
“Yea…”
“And you enjoyed it?”
Rafayel's pupils dilate and you smile - if only he could see it through your damn helmet.
“I’m glad you did. It certainly gave you the motivation to eat me out like a man starved.”
He groans and turns around to start pacing again. 
“We should go.”
“To what?” 
“Dinner. At his place.”
He spins around, his eyes wide.
“Why?”
“He’s important to you, even if he’s just a rival giving you shit. Sunday is two days away, so you’ll either have an answer about Onryō by then or he’ll send his people out to hunt. I’m sure you’ll want another attempt at trying to convince him otherwise. Am I right?”
Rafayel sighs and nods reluctantly. 
“Then we’ll go. Plus it’s funny watching him get under your skin.”
“Rude.” 
You poke your elbow into his stomach. 
“It’s almost 9.”
You hop off the bike and he takes your place. You hand him his helmet so you can climb on behind him. He secures his helmet and revs the engine before reaching back to pat your leg.
“You ready?”
You close your visor, lean forward and wrap your arms around him.
“Whole new world time?”
Rafayel laughs and closes his visor. He lifts up the kickstand with his heel. 
“Come on Princess, let’s ride.”
He carefully weaves his way through the garage and out onto the street. You spot a long line of bikes parked on the sidewalk. Rafayel drives to the front of the line and pulls out his phone.
“It’s my turn to register everyone, so they’ll all drive up in a second.”
The roar of multiple bikes starting up is deafening. They slowly pull off the sidewalk to drive into a line near where Rafayel is parked. A silver bike with light blue headlights approaches first. Two long white braids hang over their shoulders. Their helmet is adorned with delicate snowflakes and lines that look like cracks in ice. A female voice greets Rafayel.
“What’s up Kiko? Yuki onna, 3146.”
Rafayel nods and types something on his phone.
“Oh you know, just hunting down the fuckhead who ruined our last race. Accept?” 
She taps her phone that’s mounted to the handlebars of her bike. You hear Rafayel’s phone chime. 
“Let me know if you need help with that.”
She pulls off and heads towards the back of the line. You recognize the alias, Yuki onna, snow woman. Her helmet design was much more Elsa than terrifying supernatural spirit, but still very fitting.
The next bike rolls up, the bright purple and pink streaks along the side panels glow in the dark, their pure white headlights are almost too bright. Their helmet painted a dark purple with white lightning strikes spreading out from the visor. The voice that greets you is loud and gritty. 
“Kiko, my guy! Since when do you have a backpack? What’s up babe?”
“Raijū…”
Rafayel’s tone is a warning, the biker shifts in his seat and waves his hand.
“I was just playing around. You find the prick who fucked you up?”
Rafayel shakes his head.
“Working on it.”
“They better hope you don’t find them, I’m sure you have something creative planned.”
Your grip around Rafayel’s waist tightens. You feel his hand rub yours. 
“What’s your number today?”
“Raijū, 1520.”
Rafayel types on his phone, the biker taps his smartwatch and Rafayel’s phone chimes again. They rev their engine before slowly moving forward.
“Have fun, backpack! Kiko’s a wild one.”
He drives off and takes an alley, which you assume loops around to the back of the line. If you remember correctly, Raijū is a thunder beast. Their legend was fairly vague, but mostly they were considered messengers from the gods. Their messages were mostly in the form of punishing lightning strikes. 
You don’t recognize every yokai alias that you hear, but the color choices and helmet designs give you plenty of clues. You try to take mental notes so you can look them up when you get home to see if your guesses were correct. 
The final bike in the line approaches and you recognize the leather jacket, the white and red lightning strikes glowing in the darkness. Sylus’s bike is all black with no side panels, the exposed interior a bright chrome. His black helmet had patches of golden scales lined with fire. You assume this is his backup bike since “Stella” had to be retired. Stella probably matched his alias much better.
“And you’re sure you want to ride with him?”
Sylus winks at you, which makes Rafayel huff in response. You laugh and move your arms to rest over Rafayel’s shoulders. Sylus reaches up to close his visor and clicks his phone into its holder below his handlebars. 
“What’s your number?”
Rafayel leans back against you and as you rub his chest.
“Ryūō, 7213.”
Sylus taps his phone.
"I would provide my usual taunt, but your response doesn't hold as much power as it once did."
You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing. Sylus is loving how flustered he now makes Rafayel and it shows. Rafayel flips him off and Sylus gives you a casual salute before speeding off to rejoin the line. Rafayel sighs as he continues typing something on his phone. 
“What are the numbers?”
Rafayel pauses, turning his head so you can hear him better.
“Confirmation IDs. They sign up on the app and get a number. They’d only have the number if they’re logged into a recognized account.”
“And… what did that guy mean by ‘backpack’?” 
Rafayel snorts, he secures his phone to its mount.
“It’s what bikers call their passengers. Well… mostly for special passengers.”
“Special?”
He lifts his visor, looks over his shoulder and winks at you. He turns back around and turns his bike back on, shutting his visor again as he lines his bike up on the street. The other bikers pull up beside him and rev their engines. 
“Remember, hands on the tank, don’t lean into or away from the turn, just stay loose and no sudden movements.” 
“Got it.”
You give his torso a squeeze and plant your hands on the tank in front of him. He leans forward and settles in. You look over his shoulder and see a countdown on his phone. Taking a deep breath, you watch the other bikers shift back and forth preparing to take off. You spot Sylus slightly behind the line, he leans on his elbows patiently. He gives you a cheeky wave and you spin back around to face forward. 
You watch the countdown and take a deep breath. Five… How fast does Rafayel’s bike actually go? Four… Is the whole race in the no hunt zone or does it loop back into the city? Three… Will cops show up? Two… How many times has Rafayel run from the police? One… What if you get caught or crash or…? The sound of a dozen engines drowns your worries - it’s too late to back out now.
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How did you end up in one of those “so you’re probably wondering how I ended up in this situation.” Rafayel’s bike must have cost a fortune - you can’t imagine how many upgrades and illegal modifications it’s had. In a flash you’re speeding down a dimly lit street at 130. You’re suddenly very thankful Rafayel made you wear your thickest leather jacket, the wind alone would freeze you. 
You force yourself to take slow, steady breaths and follow Rafayel’s lead. His phone flashes every time he needs to turn. He drives like he’s swimming, his turns smooth, weaving between cars and the other racers seamlessly. You can’t hear anything but Rafayel’s bike engine - it’s somewhat calming. 
You hear the faint chirp of sirens and hold your breath. You hear Rafayel’s voice.
“We’re fine, don’t worry.”
You wince, his voice is loud.
“Your helmet has Bluetooth, I connected it before we left.”
You take a deep breath and stretch your hands trying to calm down.
“You can talk back if it helps?”
“Oh… okay.”
Your voice is shakier than you intended. 
“Just breathe, we’ll be okay. They’re following, but not chasing just yet.”
“When… will they chase?”
“Most patrol cops can tell when a race is done, they’ll chase the finishers. Big turn.”
You follow his lead and the turn is smooth. You hear the sirens getting closer. 
“Do they always wait?”
“Not always. Don’t worry, I’ll pull off if they get too close.”
“How fast are you going now?”
Rafayel laughs. “185.”
“Fucking hell…”
“I can hit 240 but only ever hit that on highway races with long straights. I won’t go over 200 in urban areas.”
You take a look around and see you’re on a backroad. You recognize the area, you’re close to the city now.
“Are we heading back into Linkon?” 
“Yep, the race ends at the pier. From there we circle back to a garage downtown for payouts.”
“Payouts?”
“Ahh, right. We gamble with our races. The top three split the pot.”
“Are you winning?”
“I’m in third at the moment. I don’t plan on winning.”
“Why not?!” Rafayel chuckles at your tone. “I want you to win!”
“You’re going to yell at me when I tell you why.”
“Well now you have to tell me.”
“My bike can’t go as fast with two people on it.”
“Oh my god! You’re calling me fat?!” You play up the sarcasm in your voice since he can’t see your face. 
“I knew you’d yell at me!”
“I’m not yelling!” You were, in fact, yelling. 
“It’s just physics or whatever! I swear I’m not calling you fat!” 
You’re not really upset, but hearing him backtrack is just too entertaining. As the race enters the city, Linkon city cops start following the race. The closer you get to the pier the more anxious you get. Rafayel continues to try to keep you calm, but as the sirens get louder you start to wonder what Jenna will say when you get arrested.
“Babe? You with me?”
“Yeah… yes, sorry.”
“It’s okay. Race ends around the corner, when I tell you to, I need you to turn around and tell me if any cops follow us, okay?”
“O-okay.”
“Hold onto me, you’ll be okay.”
The pier comes into view and Rafayel slows as he approaches the finish line. You lift a hand to press against his stomach. You pass under the entrance to the pier and he brakes, his rear tire smokes as it burns out to spin completely around. Cops slam on their brakes and try to back up to turn around and follow, but they’re too slow. 
“Now, check now.”
As he speeds down the alleyway, you turn your head and look back, two white sports cars with lights on the dashboard flash speed up behind you. 
“Fuck! Two… two ugh… two nice, good, fast…”
“Two pursuit vehicles. How close?”
“On our ass!”
Rafayel snorts and you want to slap him, but you are clinging to him too tightly to even move at the moment. He winds down the city streets carefully, but picks up speed once he hits a long stretch. He takes a turn that leads back to downtown.
“Do you want me to check again?”
“Wait until I make this turn and then check.”
He takes a wide turn cutting into the opposing lanes, you look over your shoulder to see one of the pursuit vehicles lose control and clip the sidewalk. The car tips and the driver overcorrects making him spin out into the bushes, a tree stops the car completely and the sirens wail cuts out. Guilt hits you like a truck and you pinch your eyes closed.
“One of them crashed…”
“Okay, easy, we’ll be out in a sec.”
You keep your eyes closed and wrap your arms around Rafayel, gripping your wrists around his waist until your hands nearly go numb. All you can see is that cop crashing into the tree. The bike wiggles beneath you and Rafayel’s hand squeezes your leg.
“Babe, babe! Talk to me!”
You let out a shaky breath and gasp for air, you didn’t even realize you were holding your breath until that moment. When you open your eyes your vision is spotty. White spots cloud your vision and you let out a quiet sob.
“It’s okay, you’re gonna be okay. We’re almost out. Talk to me baby, please.”
“They crashed…”
Rafayel takes a sharp turn and you nearly slip off the seat. The alleyway is too narrow for the other pursuit vehicle to follow. When Rafayel reaches the other side, he revs his engine and zooms down backstreets until he hits the highway. You glance over your shoulder and there’s no cops in sight. 
A few minutes later, Rafayel pulls up to a garage and honks twice. When the door opens and you see several of the bikes you saw earlier parked inside. All the racers still have their helmets on and are huddled in small groups. Rafayel drives inside and parks, he hops off and pulls up his visor.
“Hey, look at me.” He grabs your helmet and pushes your visor up. The lights of the garage burn your eyes and you squint. Your eyes water as they adjust.
“Babe, hey, the cop is okay.”
“How do you know?”
“I took that corner super slow. I banked on the cop slamming the brakes and skidding into the grass. If anything, they’ll have some bruises, but they’ll be fine.”
You close your eyes and feel tears trickle down your cheeks, you quickly wipe them away and square your shoulders. 
“I’m not crying, the lights, m’eyes are just sensitive.”
Rafayel hugs you, his hands glide over your back.
“I should have warned you about the possibility of how a chase could go… I’m sorry…”
“No. I knew the risks. It was just a reality check, you know?”
You look up to see two bikers approach. Rafayel snaps his visor shut before turning around. He grabs his phone off its mount and stares at the screen.
“Okay, Raijū you were third, Shinigami you were first and where’s Ryūō?”
A tall individual in a dark red jacket leans forward, their helmet is a dark grey with splattered red paint and two red devil horns fixed to the top. You’re surprised by the voice of the individual, its pitch unnatural and distorted.
“He got a call, he’s out back.”
Rafayel nods and taps on his phone two times. Two chimes ring out and the bikers check their phones before turning to leave. Raijū flips his visor up to wink at you and then skips back to his bike before Rafayel can shove him.
“How much did they make?”
Rafayel looks at his phone, scrolling slowly.
“13 racers, $25k to join, so the total was $325k. First gets 60 percent, second and third each get 20. So… Shinigami got $195k, Ryūō and Raijū each got $65k.”
You audibly gasp. You’re not sure you’ve ever seen $65k let alone over $100k. Rafayel chuckles and mounts his bike once more.
“Everyone here is an adrenaline junkie. Gambling ups the stakes.”
“Wait, so you lost $25k? Because of me?”
Rafayel turns on his bike and turns to watch his fellow racers leave the garage before driving through to the back door where Sylus’s bike is parked. 
“I told you, I didn’t plan on winning tonight. It was just about the experience.”
You lean back and cross your arms as Rafayel gets off his bike and unhooks the straps of his helmet. He sets his helmet on his seat and offers his hand to help you hop off. You let out a dramatic sigh and take the hand offered to you. 
Rafayel wraps an arm around your waist and pulls out the fabric mask from his pocket and puts it on before opening the back door and slipping outside. Sylus leans against the brick wall, his phone pressed to his ear. His helmet tucked under his arm. As you approach you hear the tail end of his conversation.
“Fuck no, kick them out if they’re harassing my girls. Take down their names and have Mike drag them out. Give the girls the rest of the night off. Paid, of course... I’ll call after closing.”
He hangs up and smiles, a stark contrast to the anger burning behind his eyes.
“Trouble in Paradise?” 
Sylus chuckles as he rubs his forehead. 
“Just some drunk idiots harassing my staff.”
“Paradise is his club, by the way.” 
Rafayel squeezes your hip and you hum in response.
“I saw my winnings come through, I assume everyone left?”
Rafayel nods. You lean against him and try to imagine Sylus in a club, he just doesn’t seem like the club type. You start to imagine what kind of club he might own and then an idea hits you.
“Wait, you own a club.”
A teasing smirk spreads across his lips.
“Yes, I do. Would you like to join me sometime?”
You feel Rafayel bristle and hold you tighter.
“No no, you own a club, why not use it? For you know, tracking down Onryō? I assume you both have the connections to get the word out there to… certain people… and if Onryō knows you’ll both be there they might show up.”
He takes a step toward you. 
“That… is a great idea, sweetie.”
Rafayel spins you around and walks you back to the door to the garage. 
“Yea, brilliant idea, let us know when it’s planned and we’ll be there, yea?”
You hear Sylus chuckle behind you before Rafayel rushes you back into the garage. Without his helmet, you can see his ears turning red. You’re starting to suspect that is not only a sign of him being turned on but also of him being jealous. Possibly both given his and Sylus’ interesting relationship dynamic.
You watch him shove his helmet back on and adjust the straps. You wrap your arms around his chest, trapping his arms to his sides. 
“Are you…?”
“Am I what?”
“You’re cute when you’re jealous.”
He wiggles against your grasp and you giggle in response. He starts to lean back and you struggle to keep standing. 
“You’re cute when you think I’m cute.”
You finally release him and he turns to face you.
“It is a good idea by the way. An event like that will draw a crowd of all the wrong people, especially if they know Sylus and I will be there.”
You hold onto his hips as he reaches up to hold the chin of your helmet. 
“Then let’s focus on the event. Sunday’s dinner will be the perfect opportunity to help Sylus plan!”
Rafayel groans and bangs his helmet against yours. He turns to mount his bike and you follow suit. 
“I’m in charge of music!” 
Rafayel nods and you pull out your phone to sync up the Bluetooth in your helmets. He zips out of the garage and down an alleyway. 
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After switching back to his street bike, Rafayel takes his time driving back to his apartment. The streets were unusually quiet after the night you’ve had. You rest your head against his back, reliving the thrill. 
The next song on your playlist is raunchy, and before you could think up an excuse you feel Rafayel’s chest shake with a laugh. You let out a deep sigh, he’s extra cocky tonight and it’s driving you insane. An idea pops into your head and you smile, thankful your helmet hides your intentions.
Your hands glide over his stomach. You let them drift further and further down, until your fingertips brush against the zipper on his jeans. 
“Patience, cutie. We’ll be home soon.”
You giggle, letting him feel the subtle shake of your chest against his back. The adrenaline you’d felt during the race had finally worn off, its replacement was much more… carnal. Patience was the last thing on your mind. 
You tuck your hands under his crotch and rub against his already hard cock. You feel Rafayel take a sharp breath. His hands gripping the handles tightly. He slows down slightly, but you don’t. You squeeze your hand as you cup him, you can feel his piercing and you rub your thumb over it with more force than necessary. He leans forward, trying to pinch your fingers and get you to let go, but you just squeeze him a little harder.
“Cutie…” You swear his voice dropped an octave. “I’ll have to punish you for this little stunt…”
You tug his shirt up and run a hand up his abdomen. His muscles tense at your touch. His breathing turns ragged and he grasps your hand through his shirt.
“Come on Raf… hot and bothered looks so good on you…” 
You feel his cock twitch against your hand and you roll your body against his back. He returns his hand to the handle and revs the engine, speeding up and blasting his way down back alleys to avoid stop lights. 
You rub him faster and run your nails across his abs. He turns down the road leading to his studio and the sudden burst of speed up the hill pushes the bike up onto the back tire. You tighten your grip around his waist and slow your massage, your heartbeat pounds in your ears - what song is even playing right now?  
You’re barely inside the private garage behind the studio before he is dismounting and tossing his helmet to the ground. He swiftly turns and starts tugging at the straps of your helmet. As soon as your helmet is off, he lifts you off of his bike and your bodies collide. The concept of patience is long forgotten as he slots his mouth over yours.
“Now how will I punish my precious angel for not being able to control her hands?”
You start undoing his belt when he grabs your hands and you tilt your head, looking up at him. 
“Oh no no no… You first, I insist.” 
His lips curve into a smug smile and before your stubborn nature makes you leave him high and dry, you reach up and pull him to you. You press yourself against him as your lips fight for dominance. You’re needy and don’t give a fuck, you want everything he has to give you tonight.
He bends his knees and lifts you by the backs of your thighs and you wrap your legs around him. You expect to be taken up the stairs to his apartment, but instead your ass meets the seat directly behind you. You gasp in surprise and your eyes fly open, breaking the kiss to look down. He’s put you back on his bike? You smile and lean into the kisses he’s started placing along your collarbone. 
Rafayel pulls your jacket off and drops it to the floor before lifting your shirt over your head. He takes a deep breath as his eyes rake over your chest, your lace bra hiding nothing from him. He dips his head down to press his lips over your covered nipples, making your back arch. You push at his jacket and he leans back to tug it off and drop it next to yours. He pulls his t-shirt over his head before returning to worship your body. 
His mouth meets yours again and he lifts a hand to tug your bottom lip down with his thumb, his tongue sliding into your mouth in an instant. You moan as he begins rocking his hips against you. He undoes your belt and tucks his hands under your ass to help you stand to peel your pants down your legs. His fingers trace the delicate patterns of your lace panties, his breath hot against your neck.
Before he can literally tear your panties off of your body, you stop him. With your fingers locked behind his neck, all he can do is stare at you. His cheeks are flushed and sweat drips down his chest. One thing you loved the most about Rafayel, his eyes would sparkle when he was lost in the heat of the moment. The pink hue would finally overpower the deep blue and it was like you were walking on a pink sand beach, warm and at peace.
You reach up and gently stroke his cheeks, he leans into your touch. You place a soft kiss to his lips and you feel him shudder. His eyes open looking more blurred and unfocused than before. 
You let him go to pull the straps of your bra down your arms and pull it over your head. Rafayel’s eyes instantly clear as he stares at your body. You reach down and take one of his hands, lifting it to glide over your stomach and over the swell of your breast. You release his hand once he starts kneading your sensitive flesh on his own. You whisper his name and his eyes snap to yours.
“Fuck me on your motorcycle…”
His chest caves and he stands up straight, hooking his fingers on the hem of your panties to yank them down. He plants his hands on your waist, lifting you and sitting your bare ass on the seat of his motorcycle. He whips off his belt, watching you spread your legs further. You extend your hand, pulling him forward by the belt loops. You reach around him and quickly squeeze his ass. He winces and glares at you. You’re about to laugh when he takes hold of your braid and tips your head back. He leans down and hovers his lips over yours.
“Bad girl…”
If his kiss is your punishment for squeezing his ass, you’ll be doing it a lot more often. He doesn’t stop you from pushing his pants down over his hips. He removes the hair band from the end of your braid and gently combs through your hair with his fingers. You reach down to take hold of his leaking cock, rubbing your thumb over his swollen tip. He steps closer so you can align him and you drag his cock over your slick cunt. He presses himself into your slowly, too slowly. You plant your hands on his hip and pull him forward, taking him all at once. He groans, throwing his head back. You let out a breath and rest your head against his chest as you adjust and let the pain melt into an intense pleasure. 
“Fuck… I need… I need to move, baby… hold onto me.”
You glide your hands up his chest to circle around his neck. You watch his eyes roll back before he pulls back to thrust. You start rolling your hips, driving yourself crazy with the friction of his piercing against your clit. You close your eyes and lean your head back, letting Rafayel find his rhythm. You run your hand through his hair, lightly scratching his scalp with your nails. He holds his breath as he watches you, sweat glistening across your chest, your eyes closed, your lips swollen, your ragged voice moaning his name - losing yourself to the pleasure he’s bringing you.
He grips the center of the handle bar and holds you against him as his thrusts become more intense. The motorcycle sways, your arousal dripping down onto the seat is making it hard for you to remain still. You wrap your legs around him again to avoid slipping off.
You finally open your eyes and bring your hands to cradle his face, placing kisses along his jaw. He lets out a breathy moan and whispers your name over and over. You silence him with a kiss and his fingertips dig into your back.
You roll your hips one last time, meeting his most brutal thrust yet. You almost black out at the intense pain and pleasure of it all. He was so deep, his hips hitting yours so harshly you’re sure you’ll have bruises forming before he even pulls out. The muscles in your stomach tighten and when you can’t take a deep breath you know you’re done for. You scream his name as your climaxes hit at the same time. Rafayel whimpering against your neck as you claw at his chest. 
He rests his hands on the seat, his thumbs brushing against your thighs as his cock softens inside you. You make no move to drop your legs from his waist, not yet. You kiss the tip of his nose and he rests his forehead against yours. He looks down at his motorcycle and chuckles.
“Now how do I explain this to my detailing team?”
You laugh with him, finally letting him slip out and lift you off of his bike. He bends to pick you up bridal style and carries you up the stairs to his apartment. You nuzzle your head into his neck and sigh.
“Just tell them you had the ride of your life.”
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“This is how I die, isn’t it? This is it. It was a great run.”
You can barely hear Rafayel under the pile of clothes you stacked on top of him. He’s the one who decided to lay down on your bed while you tried on outfits for the event at Sylus’s club. He knew the risks. You had nearly gone through every article of clothing in your closet and you were getting desperate. Nothing felt right. And of course work got busy as soon as the date was set and you couldn’t go shopping like you planned. 
“Stop being dramatic! Fuck, I have nothing to wear.”
“I beg to differ.”
Rafayel sticks his hand through the pile on top of him and wags his finger at you. You start shoving your clothes off of the bed, freeing Rafayel from his prison. He sits up and dramatically gasps for air. You flop down on the bed and cover your face.
“I just don’t feel comfortable in any of my clothes right now. I’ve gained weight, Tara is borrowing my favorite dress for her vacation with Jeremiah and I’m starting to think my body type is not good for dresses.” 
Rafayel pulls you on top of him and you squeal, he holds you close and nuzzles his face into your hair. You stop struggling and relax in his warm embrace.
“You’ll look amazing in whatever you choose. Your body is perfect and it’s definitely the type for dresses.”
You frown and try to look up at him. 
“The event starts in 3 hours… we should be getting ready.” Rafayel hums and slowly rubs your arms. You wiggle against his grasp, but he only holds you tighter. You whine and he laughs, giving the top of your head a soft kiss.
“Okay okay, I’m sorry. How about I pick out your outfit for you? It’ll be a surprise.”
Rafayel releases you and you sit up.
“You sure?”
He nods and you shrug before standing to head into the bathroom. 
You drag your fingers along your lash line to smear your eyeliner and mascara, adding black shadow to create a smoked out wing. After redrawing your eyeliner with precision and adding a small set of wispy false lashes, you feel more club-appropriate. The hot rollers in your hair were cool to the touch by the time you finished touching up your makeup, the curls were tight and bouncy - you knew they’d fall into loose waves by the end of the night. With a final flick of your lip gloss wand, you head back into your bedroom.
Rafayel stands beside your bed, he changed into the suit he brought with him and you nearly tripped over your own feet. His fitted black suit pants tucked into his worn boots. The sleeves of the matching suit jacket were rolled up over his elbows with a simple black button up left untucked and mostly unbuttoned underneath. The undone red bow tie around his neck was a surprising touch, the color complimented his tattoos nicely. He looked incredible and you suddenly became very aware you were still in your pajamas. 
“Damn. You clean up nice.”
“Thanks, cutie. You look ready to go, let’s head out, yea?”
You glare at him, his cheeky smirk making your heart flutter. You put your hands on your hips and he finally steps aside to reveal the outfit he selected laid out on your bed for you.
Surprisingly, it was a relatively simple ensemble. Wide leg, high waisted dark gray trousers, sleek black stilettos and a fitted leather jacket. You walk over and pick up the jacket, looking for a shirt and hold up a scarf you forgot you have.
“Where’s the shirt?”
“You’re looking at it.”
You stare at the scarf in your hand. The rich emerald green was definitely a good color option and the golden thread woven throughout sparkled in the light. But how on earth is this your top?
“You said you didn’t like anything you have, so let’s make something new.”
You drop the scarf on your bed and cross your arms. Rafayel picks up the scarf and swings it over his head to settle around his neck.
“Do you trust me?”
You nod sheepishly. He tugs on your baggie t-shirt urging you to change. You carefully pull your shirt over your head, making sure your hair isn’t touched. As you pull the trousers up, Rafayel steps forward to adjust the belt, twisting it to accentuate your waist before securing the buckle. You hand the necklaces he laid out for you to him and turn around. His fingers graze your skin gently as he hooks them together around your neck.
You shudder when his fingers slide along the back of your bra, pausing over the clasp. His lips press against the skin of your neck as he swiftly unhooks the clasp and pulls away from your body. You lean back against him and hold your breath as his hand sweeps your hair over your shoulder. He removes the scarf from around his neck and centers it across your back. He wraps the fabric under your arms and crosses it over your chest. He ties it behind your neck and slowly turns you around. 
He adjusts the scarf over your breasts and shivers spread across your skin when his fingers brush over your nipples. You watch him smirk and try to move away, he grabs your waist suddenly and pulls you into a kiss. His lashes tickle your cheeks and you giggle against his lips. He steps back and smiles at you. Your giggles turn to a full belly laugh and you wipe your finger over Rafayel’s lipstick stained lips. He kisses your fingers before reaching out to free your necklaces from under your makeshift top. 
Looking in the mirror you are shocked at how effortlessly Rafayel made a simple scarf into a beautiful top. The necklaces sit neatly in the folds around your neck and make the golden threading more prominent. 
“So fucking beautiful.”
Your cheeks flush and you try to distract yourself by fixing your lipstick. He grabs your jacket and guides your arms through the sleeves. He surprises you when he kneels beside your bed and lifts a hand. You approach slowly, unsure what he’s up to. He picks up one of the heels off your bed and points to your foot. You lift your foot and his hand circles your ankle. He slides the heel on and sets your foot down, reaching for the other shoe and waiting for you to lift your other foot. He repeats the action, but kisses the top of your foot before setting it down. 
“Ready?”
You’re actually speechless. All he did was help you get dressed and here you are barely keeping it together. He stands and offers his arm and you take it, your body buzzing with anticipation for what the night will hold. 
He brought a different car tonight, you’re not a car girl but you recognize the bright red Ferrari Enzo. Rafayel had done a spread in a tattoo magazine and posed with it on the cover. He opens the door for you and helps you in. He climbs in and the engine roars to life, its gritty rumble makes your chest shake. You instinctively reach out and grab Rafayel’s hand that’s resting on the gear shift. He links his fingers with yours and rests your joined hands on his thigh as he takes off.
The drive to the club was quiet, the street lights only ribbons passing by. Rafayel gives you the rundown regarding Sylus’s club, Paradise. 
“He has a shit ton of security, all well trained. Even his dancers and waitresses are trained in self-defense, he requires it. We both have people working the floor so we’ll stay in the VIP section with him, okay?”
You nod and give his hand a squeeze. 
“You good?”
You nod again, distracted by the flashing red lights a few streets in front of you. 
“We’re here.”
Rafayel pulls into the lot where the lights originate and you gasp. The building is huge, at least four stories, the black brick splattered with dripping red paint. Massive stained glass windows, which probably stand two stories tall, glow with the pulsing lights from inside the club. If you didn’t know better you’d think this was a cathedral, even spotting gargoyles lining the side of the building.
The long red carpet is packed with club goers and two burley bouncers stand at the entrance. The valet greets Rafayel and you barely register that your door is being opened. You hold onto Rafayel as he saunters to the front of the line. 
You feel the glares of those waiting and you try your best to ignore their twinge of anxiety forming at the back of your throat. Sudden flashes take you by surprise and one of the bouncers shoves a photographer back to usher you and Rafayel into the building. Once inside, you can’t hear anything but the rhythm of dark and bassy club anthems. 
Inside, you are conflicted yet again, this place had to be a church beforehand. With the stained glass windows, ribbed vaulting line the ceiling, every doorway has a pointed arch, two prominent aisles lined with pillars block off sitting areas and where the altar would be a huge DJ station sits. A large curved bar seems to have taken residence in the ambulatory circling around the raised DJ station. Red and purple lights drown the space and glints of gold catch your eye - sconces, lanterns, any metal detailing is glimmering like an ancient treasure. 
Rafayel leads you through a side door, leaving the chaotic sanctuary behind. The music softens slightly in the narrow stone stairwell. You follow behind him and find yourself in the gallery, over the railing you see the dancers sway to the music and gather around waiters to take shots or glasses of champagne. Then you are walking directly next to the massive stained glass windows. The artwork doesn’t depict the typical Biblical imagery, instead images of mythical beings are painted in vibrant hues. A gorgeous Pegasus with skeletal wings flies next to a dark red dragon. Another window holds the image of a minotaur fighting a sphinx, claws and horns clash in a brutal scene. The final window you pass you see a spectacular ocean and sky standing side by side. A phoenix soaring through the sky while a mermaid glides through the water, mirroring each other's movement in their own element. 
You hear Rafayel speaking with another guard and you’re pulled through an ornate door. On the other side, there’s small corner booths and standing tables scattered around. A private bar sits at the back of the room, the bartender wearing a mask with black feathers serves a couple leaning against the bar. A large balcony overlooks the club, many VIPs sip their drinks while watching the dancers below. 
You spot a familiar silhouette. Sylus stands at the center of the balcony, his white hair tinted red under the light. Rafayel approaches, he holds your hand tightly and you squeeze, trying to reassure him you’re okay. Sylus turns, the head of his dragon tattoo peeks out from behind his unbuttoned dress shirt. With his dark suit jacket hanging off his shoulders he looks ready to take flight. He locks eyes with you, something dark stirs behind those ruby eyes. But as quickly as you register the look it vanishes, replaced with his usual swagger. 
“Welcome to Paradise.”
You chuckle and graciously take a glass of champagne from the waiter that approaches you and Rafayel, who also takes a glass. You raise the glass to Sylus.
“It’s certainly not what I expected, but it is beautiful.”
Sylus smiles as he lifts his glass to his lips, he downs the dark amber liquid in one go and sets it on the waiter's tray. The waiter instantly turns to leave and Sylus steps closer.
“My people are tracking two right now. They won’t act, it’d be a death sentence. Regardless, keep your eyes open. And most importantly…”
He offers his hand to you and you hesitate for a moment before accepting. He lifts your hand to his mouth, his soft lips press against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. Rafayel releases your hand and tucks his arm around your waist. You can feel Sylus’s breath against your skin as he laughs. He lets you go and takes a step back. 
“Enjoy the night. I’ll be around. Just say my name and I’ll be there.”
“Like a ghost?” You joke.
“Like an angel.” He says with a wink.
“More like a devil.” Rafayel mutters through gritted teeth.
Sylus lets out another breathy laugh. He pats Rafayel on the shoulder before sauntering away, leaving the VIP section.
“Madam, would you like your jacket checked?”
The waiter reappears and offers his hand to take your jacket. You shrug it off your shoulder and hand it to him.
“Yes, thank you!”
He nods and disappears to hang up your jacket. Rafayel kisses your shoulder. You lean against him and sip your champagne.
“Was this place a church?”
Rafayel leads you closer to the balcony and you look down at the crowd. You can see the whole bar, the DJ stand, the general sitting area - every corner is packed with people. 
“No, actually. Sylus had it built specifically to look like this. Hired an architect with a specialty in historical design and commissioned me to do the stained glass.”
“You designed the windows?”
He nods, craning his neck to look at the three windows above the DJ stand. The most prominent windows serve as the artistic centerpiece for the club, each window intricately designed featuring three creatures. The first appears to be a knight in golden armor surrounded by planets and stars. The knight fights against chains wrapped around its neck, raising a glowing sword poised to strike. The second a dark dragon, similar to the one you saw during your walk through the gallery. However, this one has what appears to be a massive hole in its chest where its heart should be. And the third is a merman, or maybe a siren. Its powerful tail wrapped around a broken ship mast, the sails torn and floating in bloody waves behind him. 
“They’re kind of tragic… Amazing, but… tragic.”
Rafayel stares at the windows, his hand falling from your waist to rest on the railing of the balcony. You place your hand over his and watch him for a moment. A pained expression crosses his face. He looks at the ground and shuffles his feet. 
“Do you wanna know why Sylus named this place Paradise?”
You lean against the railing and nod.
“He told me ‘even monsters deserve a paradise.’”
“I don’t understand…”
He turns to face you, the moonlight filtered through the stained glass glows around his figure. 
“Ever heard the saying ‘you’re the villain in someone’s story’?” You nod. “It’s kind of like that. Sometimes you’re the monster and you don’t want to be. But sometimes you do… want to be. Here, it doesn’t matter.”
He takes your hand and pulls you to him. His hips start to sway to the music and you bite your lip. He spins you around and holds your waist to dip you back. Once he brings you upright, you turn around and press your back against his chest. You mirror his movements, swaying your hips to the beat. He brings his hips forward and you grind your ass against his groin. He rests his hands on the front of your hips and dips his head down to kiss your shoulder. 
The beat quickens and your hips follow suit. You hear him groan softly in your ear and you reach your arm back to play with the soft curls that trail down the nape of his neck. You lean your head back on his shoulder and close your eyes. The music swells and the images from the windows flash through your mind. The golden knight, the dragon, the siren. Monsters to some, beautiful and regal to others. For a moment, you imagine them in this place, safe and free. 
“Do you want to see something?”
Rafayel’s voice breaks through the vision and you nod breathlessly. He takes your hand and you follow him through the ornate door, through the gallery and down the stairwell. At the base of the stairwell there is another door. A thumbpad above the handle suggests it’s most likely for staff. Rafayel places his thumb down and the pad glows green, the door clicks open. He looks over his shoulder at you.
“Perks of knowing the owner.” 
You follow him through the door and down a dark staircase, the door locking behind you. Fluorescent lights flicker as you descend deeper beneath the club. You are pulled through another door and gawk at just how massive this underground level is. Large round tables sit in each corner of the room, a circular bar at the center. 
Waitresses saunter around the room serving drinks and hors d'oeuvres to the patrons seated at the tables. From the entrance you can see playing cards laid out and it clicks. You’re in an underground poker den. You spot Sylus at one of the tables leaning back in his chair while he swirls the drink in his glass. Rafayel holds your hand as you approach Sylus’s table. Sylus smiles when he sees you approaching. 
“Welcome to The Abyss.”
Sylus stands and taps the shoulder of the man sitting next to him, he stands, places his cards down and walks to another table. Sylus pulls the chair back, motioning for you to take it. You hear Rafayel sigh and give his hand a squeeze. You sit down and you turn to see Rafayel place his hands on the shoulders of the stranger beside you. He tenses before tossing his cards down and quickly leaving the table. Rafayel is about to sit down when his phone rings. When he checks the screen, he gives you an apologetic look.
“I have to take this, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
You nod and he walks to the bar before answering his phone. You’re curious why he had to walk away, but you’ll ask him later. You turn to face Sylus to find him staring at you. You lean back and meet his gaze, completely unaware of how the game at the table has stalled. 
“So, The Abyss?”
“Seemed fitting since so many people get swept away with greed or ill intentions when they’re down here.”
You laugh and lean towards him.
“I imagine it’s pretty easy to lose yourself when booze and Billie Holiday are involved.”
His face lights up when you recognize the artist, a genuine smile replacing his sarcastic smirk. 
“This album is one of my favorites.”
“Lady in Satin, nice choice.”
Sylus’s smile widens further and he rests his hand on the back of your chair. He’s failing to hide how giddy he is, and you’re excited to see this side of him.
“Not many people recognize the classics, I’m impressed.”
You smile and poke his chest.
“You’re not the only one with good taste. Rafayel told me you had this place built to look… like this… You hired a specialist in historical architecture?”
“I did and it was worth every penny. Do you think it’s offensive?”
You shake your head, leaning your elbow on the table and resting your chin on your hand. 
“If anything, I think it’s interesting. I’ve never been to a nightclub in a cathedral before. Now I can say I have.”
A waitress places a martini in front of you, taking you by surprise. You nod at her as she walks away before picking up the glass. Sylus reaches out and takes the cocktail pick out of your drink. He eats your olive and winks at you. You push your lip out in a dramatic pout.
“How dare you, I wanted that!”
Sylus waves the cocktail pick at the waitress and you look over to watch her prepare something behind the counter. Rafayel leans against the bar nearby and shoots you a smile before mouthing a quick “sorry” and continuing his call. The waitress exits the bar and you spot a small bowl of olives on her tray.
“Sylus! I didn’t need –”
“While you’re here, you’ll get whatever you want, kitten.”
The nickname takes you by surprise and you cross your arms. The waitress sets the bowl down beside you and pats your shoulder.
“Don’t worry darlin’, he does this all the time. I had this ready before I brought your drink over.”
Sylus chuckles and the waitress pats your shoulder again before heading back to the bar. You teasingly punch Sylus’s arm.
“How did she know?”
“Aubrey is very perceptive. Is there anything else you’d like? Just tell me.”
“Tell him what?”
Rafayel’s voice surprises you, his hand rests on your shoulder as he sits. You shift in your seat and take a sip of your martini. You pucker your lips and reach for an olive, the saltiness hits the spot and you sigh. You drop another olive in the glass.
“Start a new game, deal these two in.” 
You stare at Sylus. 
“I doubt I can afford the buy in.”
Sylus tilts his head and looks past you at Rafayel. You turn to see he’s already pressed his card to the panel in front of you, buying you in for $10k in chips. You slap his hand.
“Rafayel!”
He presses his card to the panel in front of him and buys into the game himself. 
“Relax cutie, just beat me and you can pay me back.”
Oh. The alcohol coursing through your veins gives you the courage you need to keep a straight face. This will be fun. You pick at your fingernails in your lap and shrug your shoulders.
“Fine… fine. I’m already bought in, might as well try. But I don’t care about money. If I somehow win, I want something.”
Sylus leans forward, intrigued. Rafayel nods and hangs his arm over the back of the chair waiting for you to make your bet.
“If I win I get to… give you a tattoo.”
Rafayel’s brows shoot up and Sylus laughs loudly.
“A tattoo? Really?”
You nod and finish off your drink. Sylus lifts a finger towards the bar and the waitress begins to prepare another drink for you.
“What do I get if I win?”
Rafayel leans closer, his fingers gliding along your arm making goosebumps rise. 
“What do you want?”
Rafayel’s expression darkens and he leans in to whisper in your ear.
“I’ve always wanted to try photography… but I need a model.”
You feel your cheeks flush, the implications clear when he drops his hand to your thigh. You narrow your eyes and flash a smile. You’re almost tempted to throw the game now. 
“Okay. Deal.”
He extends his hand and you shake it firmly. Sylus nods at the dealer and they begin passing out cards. You hold your breath and pray for a decent hand. You’ll bluff your way to victory if all else fails. 
The cards slide across the table into a neat stack in front of you. You place your hand over your cards and carefully lift the corners to check. Jack of Hearts and King of Hearts, decent. It’s time to overreact, Rafayel doesn’t know you spent almost every lunch period in school playing poker with your best friend. Caleb never let you win, he forced you to improve your skills and when you finally beat him the satisfaction made up for every loss. 
“The game is Texas Hold ‘Em, no limits. Place your bets.”
The first two men fold and Sylus tosses two chips to the center of the table. You tap your fingers on your cards, trying to appear thoughtful. You pick up two chips and toss them in.
“Call.”
Rafayel follows suit and the dealer flips the first card. A Jack of Clubs. A two or three pair is possible, if you are willing to risk it. The dealer looks at Sylus, who hasn’t stopped staring at you. You can feel his heated gaze and your ear burns. He tosses another two chips in, has he even looked at his cards? You call as does Rafayel.
Another card is revealed, a King of Spades. A two pair, it was something to stand on. The final card would determine if you needed to put on an act or just sit back and enjoy your win. Sylus tosses five chips in and you purposefully roll your shoulders, trying to appear tense, as if the bet was getting a little too high.
You call and turn to face Rafayel, scanning his face for any signs of a tell. He’s all smiles as he taps the center of his forehead with his index finger, considering the bet. He pushes his remaining chips to the center of the table. 
“All in.”
You raise a brow, allowing him to see your surprise, but not revel in it. You look over at Sylus who is finally taking a look at his cards. You doubt he will have any tells but you examine him anyway. The way his brows furrow, his chin tilts up and he drags his finger along the edge of the cards. You get the feeling he doesn’t care about the money, he just wants to see how your bet with Rafayel plays out. You’re still considering his motives when he pushes his chips towards the pile.
“Call.”
Both men stare at you now. Was this hand worth it? Is this what Sylus meant by losing oneself to greed? Wanting to win so badly you’ll risk it all? You close your eyes, letting the muscles in your face relax.
“Call.”
Rafayel chuckles quietly as you push your chips to the center. The dealer turns over the final card and you hold your breath. A fucking Jack of Diamonds. You have a Full House. There was no sequential order to the cards so they couldn’t have Four of a Kind since you had a King card yourself. Best they could do is a three pair… You won. You finally lift your eyes and peek at your cards again, looking “concerned.” 
“Showdown.”
The dealer leans onto the table to watch the reveal. Sylus flips his first, an Ace of Clubs and an Ace of Diamonds. A Two Pair wasn’t bad, especially if you and Rafayel were bluffing. Sylus leans back and crosses his legs, bringing his glass to his lips and sipping slowly. 
You look at Rafayel, he’s tapping his forehead with his finger again, his smile flashing the gem adhered to his tooth. 
“Last chance cutie. Say the word and maybe I’ll let you off the hook.”
He is still tapping his forehead. This must be his tell. Adorable. You’ll certainly use this to your advantage in the future.
“Not a chance.”
“Okay… Show at the same time then?”
You nod and Rafayel picks up his cards. He counts down and you hesitate, letting him lay his cards down first - give him a single moment of pride. A Jack of Spades and a 4 of Clubs. Three of a Kind, enough to beat Sylus, but not enough to beat you. When you lay your cards down Sylus claps.
“Very impressive performance, sweetie.”
You smile at Sylus before finally turning to face Rafayel, who is already pouting. 
“A Full House. You had a goddamn Full House?!”
You lean over and kiss his cheek. He runs a hand through his hair.
“You played me.”
You take his hand and give it a squeeze. He yanks his hand free before looping his arm around your neck and pulling you into a tight hug. His face is buried in your neck.
“Guess I still have a lot to learn about you cutie. Hope you’re ready for an interrogation.”
The sound of shoes approaching makes you pull back. You look over your shoulder and see a man in a suit leaning down to speak into Sylus’ ear. Sylus nods and as soon as the man turns to leave he stands and motions for you and Rafayel to follow him. 
He takes you into a backroom with several shelving units packed with liquor. A cozy sofa and mini-fridge sit in the corner next to a row of lockers. Sylus begins to pace and Rafayel straddles the arm of the couch.
“What happened?”
“We found our man, but he slipped away. Turns out he is undercover, but we don’t know who he works for exactly. My team lost track of him when he hopped on a bike out back. They got his plate number and they’re going through camera footage for a clear shot of his face.”
You cross your arms and step closer to Sylus.
“Can I have the plate number?”
Sylus looks at you with a rare expression, shock. 
“As a hunter I have access to certain things and maybe I can get more information for you.”
“Sweetie, we have ways of getting that intel ourselves you shouldn’t –”
You hold up a hand, silencing him.
“A way that won’t set off any alarms? As a hunter, I’m technically a member of law enforcement, so doing a routine search for a plate won’t raise suspicion. I want to help, so let me.”
Sylus tucks his hands in his pockets and steps even closer, his essence flooding your senses. The scent of whiskey and vanilla, the harsh fluorescent light reflecting off of his silk button up, he commands attention and you can’t help but stare. 
“Alright.” 
He grabs a napkin from the top of the mini fridge and takes a pen out of his breast pocket. He looks at you and twirls his finger. You squint at him and he repeats the motion, you realize he’s telling you to turn around. You slowly turn and he places the napkin on your back and begins writing.
“Are you using me to–”
He shushes you and when you feel the pen stop you turn to face him. He hands the napkin to you.
“We’ll meet mid-week. Just be sure not to dig your claws in too deep, kitten.”
You can feel Rafayel’s eyes on you, but you dare to step closer.
“Okay, what’s with this ‘kitten’ bullshit?”
Sylus chuckles.
“You just remind me of a mischievous kitten, that’s all.”
You put your hands on your hips and try your best to glare at this mountain of a man.
“Okay, how about we try… Bakeneko? Still a kitten, but twice as fierce.”
Great, he was referring to you as a monster cat, known for being little menaces to those around them. You should be angry, but instead you feel your heart swell with pride. To have your own yokai alias made you feel like you’re a part of their world. You decide to concede for now, the nickname could be worse. 
“Fine.”
Sylus laughs and pulls his phone out, tapping it twice before a knock at the door makes you jump. The man who spoke to Sylus at the table enters and hands Sylus a manila folder. He immediately hands it to you. You open it and see a short list of information regarding the individual including the license plate number. You close it and stare at the napkin in your other hand. You look up at Sylus.
“Wait… then what…?”
You open the napkin and see a phone number. Sylus extends his hand and you’re too dumbfounded by his forwardness to register your own actions. You extend your hand and another gentle kiss graces your knuckles. 
“I’ll speak to you soon, Bakeneko.”
Sylus leaves the room and you turn to face Rafayel. A subtle pout plays on his lips and you quickly lift his chin to kiss it away. He sighs and rests his hands on your hips. 
“Can we get out of here?”
You nod and give him a devious grin. He shrinks back and narrows his eyes at you.
“You have a tattoo appointment after all.”
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The bell above the door at Lemuria Studios chimes loudly as you and Rafayel stumble inside. Rafayel has you on his back, holding your legs while your arms wrap around his neck. He kicks the door closed behind him and turns around to press his thumb to the keypad locking it again.
As he walks through the studio your heels slip off your feet and clatter to the floor. He sets you down when he reaches the door to his private studio and unlocks it. You shuffle inside and start examining the various machines and tools. 
“So what are ya lookin’ to get today sir?”
Rafayel laughs and moves you to the side to start preparing a station for you. He quickly washes his hands and puts on fresh gloves. You watch him line a metal tray with plastic wrap and secure it with tape. He pulls out two squeeze bottles from a lower cabinet, wrapping them with plastic wrap as well before setting on the tray. He grabs a new disposable razor from a drawer and secures the guard before setting it down. Taking a popsicle stick, he dips into a Vaseline jar and dabs it on the tray, placing small dots close by. He sets two ink caps on the tiny Vaseline dots, the caps sinking into the gel like glue. 
You hop up to sit on the counter next to him while he works and you lean down to kiss his temple.
“What colors do you want cutie?”
You look at the bin he pulls out of the cabinet and sift through the bottles. 
“Let’s just go with black, I’ll work up the courage to try color another time.”
“Oh, another time? Is this your new hobby?”
He pours black ink into the caps before closing the bottle and returning the bin to the cabinet. He places the new needle, still in its packaging, on the counter while he does a quick inspection of his tattoo machine. He unwraps the container and carefully removes the needle, sliding it in place. He pulls a small bag out of a drawer and drapes it over the gun, securing it with hot pink grip tape. After connecting the power cord, he kicks over the foot pedal and sets the machine on the tray. He sets the tray on the mobile cart next to him and rolls it over to the stool. 
He points at the sink and you hop off the counter. As you wash your hands, a sudden wave of anxiety hits you. He’s actually going to let you tattoo him? What if you hurt him? What if it’s ugly? Will he be mad? What are you doing?
“I think your hands are clean…”
You look down to see your hands are red from how hard you were scrubbing them. You dry them with a paper towel and he holds out the box of gloves for you. As you tug on a pair of gloves you watch him clean the chair he’ll sit on. When he finally looks up at you his smile instantly falls.
“What’s wrong?”
“Are you sure this is okay?”
He places his hands on your shoulders and kisses your forehead. 
“I am.”
“But what if it’s ugly or I mess up or –”
“You wanna know how I see tattoos? It’s like a photograph, it takes you back to a previous version of yourself and you get to remember who you were and how far you’ve come. 50 years from now, I will look at the tattoo you gave me and remember this time in my life. And I’ll remember how cute you were worrying about giving me an ugly tattoo.”
You look at your feet, overwhelmed with your racing thoughts. The question you’ve been dying to ask gets trapped in your throat. This isn’t the time or place. Rafayel gently holds your chin and makes you look at him. 
“What are you thinking?”
“What if you regret it?”
His eyes soften as begins to understand your fear. He lets go of your chin and turns to the counter, opening a drawer. You hear him moving things around for a moment before turning around and holding a pen. He cleans the pen with a wipe and hands it to you. You realize it’s a tattoo pen, he used a similar one to draw the finer details of your tattoo before going in with the needle. He shrugs off his suit jacket, tossing it on the counter before sitting down on the padded bed and folding his hands in his lap.
“A tattoo is a moment, and in this moment, there’s nothing I want more than your artwork on my body. Okay, well… there is another thing, but we probably shouldn’t do that in my studio.”
He winks at you and you almost chuck the pen at his head.
“Also… I will never regret knowing you.”
Your eyes water and you roll your neck in an attempt to hide the wave of emotions that just crashed over you. How did he know? You walk over to him and uncap the pen. 
“Where do you want it, pretty boy?”
He starts to slowly unbutton his dress shirt, letting it fall open to reveal his torso. He lays back on the table and places a hand behind his head. With his other hand he points to his hip, right above the waistband of his pants. Your eyes widen and you feel how very dry your mouth has become.
“O-okay.”
You use your foot to tug the stool over and you sit, placing your elbows on the edge of the table and staring at his hip. 
“You have to clean and shave the area before drawing anything. Use the green bottle first, then shave, then the clear one.”
You follow his instructions, cleaning his skin and gliding the razor over a small patch of skin. As you do the final cleaning step you bite your lip, you knew what you wanted to draw but doubted your skills. You take a deep breath and begin lightly drawing the outline of your design. You make several adjustments using a makeshift eraser of paper towel dipped in the clear cleanser. Rafayel doesn’t move, he lets you doodle and brainstorm for over an hour. Finally, you sit back and smile.
“Do you want to look at it before I start?”
He shakes his head and closes his eyes. 
“Let’s keep it a surprise.”
You pick up the tattoo gun and stare at it like you’ve never seen one before. You clear your throat and gently step on the pedal hearing the machine buzz to life.
“It’s not as scary as it looks.”
You look up to see Rafayel still has his eyes closed. 
“Go slow, focus on drawing straight small lines at first. You don’t have to push, just let the machine do the work. Use the paper towel to clear the excess ink. You’ve got this. Oh, and dip your pinkie in the Vaseline, it’ll keep your stencil from smudging.”
You hold the machine with a firm hand and dip the tip in the ink cap. You follow Rafayel’s advice and dip the side of your pinkie in the Vaseline before resting the side of your palm on his stomach. You cautiously draw your first line and wipe at the spot with a paper towel. You’re pleased to see the line is dark and relatively straight. You giggle and dip the needle in the ink cap continuing your work.
Rafayel remains completely still. His steady breathing keeps you calm. With each line, you become more and more confident. 
“Let me know if you need more ink.”
“I’m good. I wish I could do some shading, but I don’t think I’m good enough for that.”
Rafayel chuckles. You set down the tattoo gun and wipe it down one last time. 
“Okay… I think I’m done.”
Rafayel opens his eyes and sits up. You stand from the stool and watch him stride to the mirror. He stands close and looks between the mirror and his skin. The tattoo itself is more “cutsie” compared to the more intricate artwork he has covering his skin. A small fan-tailed fish floats above a kitten on their back. The small kitten has its paws extended towards the fish, its tail curled and a tiny smile under its button nose. 
“I wanted to add bubbles, but they’d just look like circles without shading so…”
Rafayel turns and grabs your face with both hands, he kisses you hard. His hands drop from your face to your hips. You sigh into his mouth and he forces himself to pull back. 
“It’s amazing. I would never have guessed this was your first tattoo. How about this, I’ll add some shading to it for you, yea?”
You nod and reach for the bandage Rafayel laid out on the counter. You press the bandage to his hip and use medical tape to secure it. He moves the tray to the counter and kicks the stool into the corner. As soon as you peel your gloves off, Rafayel’s hands are all over you. He pulls you back to him and drags his fingers down your arms, lifting your hands to his shoulders. He dives back in, capturing your lips with his own. He takes a step back and you follow his lead, he backs you against the padded table across the room.
His fingers fiddle with the knot holding the scarf around your chest. You feel the fabric loosen and slowly fall away. The cool air against your bare chest makes your nipples harden and you lean into Rafayel’s warmth. With his chest against yours, you feel his heart pounding. His nipple rings rub against your sensitive peaks and your breathy moans fill the room. He runs his fingers through your hair and you lean back, damn near lying on the table. 
You swiftly undo his belt and he kicks his pants down his legs and into a corner. Your hands are just dipping down the front of his boxers when he grabs your wrist.
“Turn around.”
His commanding voice takes you by surprise. Rafayel loved to switch up positions in the bedroom, but he usually prefers when you take the lead. It seems tonight he was worked up for some reason. You make a mental note to ask him about it later, for now you can only focus on how he unbuckles your belt and tugs your pants down with fervor. 
“I thought you said… we shouldn't do this in your studio…”
He silences you once his hand wraps around you and he fingers your clit, he traces circles slowly. You whine and push your hips back. He leans against you, his chest pressed to your back. He places open mouth kisses to your shoulder and up your neck, his voice is barely above a whisper. 
“I want you to know… I will spend every hour… of every day proving to you… that I will never regret knowing you.”
His cock presses against your entrance he begins rolling his hips forward, dragging his cock through your slick cunt. You let your head fall forward back, your forehead resting on the table. He runs his tip over your clit with his piercing. 
“Rafayel… fuck… please!”
He continues teasing you for another moment before you feel that perfect stretch that only his cock can provide. Your chest heaves and a guttural groan erupts from Rafayel’s throat. He lets go of your hips to hold onto the table. He’s halfway in when you feel your knees give out, Rafayel wraps an arm around you and thrusts his hips forward filling you completely.
“Right there oh god oh god yes Rafayel yes!”
He presses his face against your back and lets out a low growl. You know he’s close so you hold your breath and press your hips back. He suddenly pulls out and turns you around. He hikes your leg up over his hip before burying himself into your tight heat once again. You cling to him, your fingernails digging into his upper back. He gasps and he throws his head back. He finally lays you back on the table, one of his arms tucked under you. He grips your thigh and looks down at you with hooded eyes. Sweat drips down his cheek dripping onto your chest. 
“Shit shit shiiiiit baby I need to –”
He’s cut off with the sound of a bell ringing. The bell above the front door. You hadn’t even realized what time it was, early morning sunlight was just starting to filter through the windows. Rafayel bites his lip and slows his movements for a moment. You hear footsteps moving across the hardwood floors and the jingle of keys. You look over his shoulder and stare at the door, trying to steady your breathing. You’re about to uncross your ankles and move away when Rafayel rams his hips forward. 
“Raf!” You whisper yell.
You glare at him but his expression remains the same. His mouth covers yours in an attempt to silence you and your eyes roll back. A knock brings both of you to a halt. 
“Rafayel? Are you in there?”
Thomas, the studio manager, stands just outside the door and knocks again. Rafayel lifts his head and slowly rolls his hips, you close your eyes and try to keep your building orgasm at bay until Thomas is gone. But as Rafayel continues his movements, you know you won’t be able to stop yourself from crying out. So you lunge forward and sink your teeth into his shoulder.
“Fuck!”
Rafayel shouts, not in pain, but rather surprise. There’s another knock on the door. 
“Rafayel?”
Rafayel slams his hand against the table, making the legs squeak against the floor. His cock twitches and you squeeze your thighs against his waist.
“Yeah… yes, sorry I stubbed my toe. Fuck!”
Your teeth sink deeper until you taste something metallic. He drags his hips back until only his tip remains tucked in your tight heat. He rams his hips forward and as soon as his piercing hits your g-spot you come. The sudden burst of warmth gushes over his cock and down his thighs. Your orgasm makes you bite down harder causing his release to spill into you.
A loud scoff from Thomas is heard through the door. 
“You know you can just say you’re fucking your girlfriend, right? Her heels are in the lobby.”
You unlock your jaw and release his shoulder, your head hits the table with a quiet thud. 
“Sorry Thomas…”
Your breathy apology makes Rafayel chuckle. He rests his forehead against yours as his cock softens inside you. He kisses the tip of your nose and looks down at you with such reverence your eyes start to water again. He kisses your cheeks and when a tear falls, he kisses it away humming softly. 
“Just clean the room before opening, please. I’m going to get another coffee.”
You hear his footsteps fade and the bell above the front door chime. Rafayel slips out of you and picks you up, setting you on the table. He runs his tongue over his labret piercing, sucking into his mouth. This cute little habit of his usually means he’s overthinking. You lift your hand and tug on his bottom lip with your thumb. He releases his piercing and sighs.
“We’ve never talked about that…”
“About what?”
“Using titles… like that.”
You wrap your arms around his neck and he steps forward between your legs.
“Do you want to use titles?”
“I’d… love to call you my girlfriend, but do you want to call me your boyfriend?”
You cup his cheeks in your hands and press a soft kiss to his lips.
“My boyfriend.”
You kiss the tip of his nose.
“My boyfriend, Rafayel.”
You kiss his left cheek and then his right.
He leans into your touch, savoring each kiss.
“Yes, I’d love to call you mine.”
Before he can pull you into another kiss, your eyes catch the swollen red spot on his shoulder. You see your bite mark, a small drop of blood trickling down to his chest. 
“Oh my god! I’m so sorry! I didn’t… I shouldn’t have…”
He looks down at his shoulder and wipes the blood away with his thumb. 
“I’m fine! You were just marking your territory.”
You slap his chest and he pulls you into a hug, his hands rub your back and you melt into his embrace. To think a few weeks ago you were on this table getting a tattoo and now you’re naked, holding onto your boyfriend. A sexy tattoo artist who has an illegal hobby of street racing his high end motorcycle and is much more complex than you could ever imagine. You’re not sure how, but the unexpected direction your life has taken has only brought you joy. And you’re excited to see where life with Rafayel takes you.
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(AN Part 2: I don't know how to play poker, so I hope this is accurate! Also, mini spoiler for Part 3 - more crowfish smut. Smile.)
Tag List (comment if you wanna be added!): @trishiepo0 @not-so-quite-human @kitsunetori @babyx91 @libriomancer @lilyadora @crowskitten22 @letharue @silverbrain @m00nchildwrites @plsdonttakemyname @spacegroteske @namjoonseuphoria @celestialforce @rafshottestgf @oxamarok @withering-dream @zaynessbeloved @animecrazy76 @yournextdoorhousewitch @hauntedbysmut @addiglessthanthree @4ttack-ur-heart
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opens-up-4-nobody · 2 years ago
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#i have to drive to the big city tomorrow morning... which is...#itll b fine. ive done it multiple times before so itll b fine#but also everytime i have to drive somewhere im a sobbing mess bc its so scary#and i space out which is terrifying so i have to sing and talk to myself the whole time so my brain doesnt drift too far#and i dont kno how long i have to b there or if ill b able to find parking...#i just hate is so much. literally its not a far trip. if we have a fucking working train system there would b a train between our two#universities and it would b like 30min. such fucking bullshit. that would b incredible. i would actually b able to go places#fuck the lack of public train transportation. its stupid.#at least i was busy all day. its crazy how much less terrible my day is when im in a semi empty lab working with algae#hopefully i didnt kill the culture bc i had to transfer immediately after making media. i think it cooled enough but well see#fuck. i dont wanna drive. i should sleep so im not more insane tomorrow#its crazy how distorted i get abt driving. i will convince myself that my car is gonna like fall apart while im driving#and that im absolutely going to have an accident caused by me. so i get up like ok this is where it all ends#in a smear across the highway#oh god i have to get gas tomorrow too#thry recommended i get there at 9 but maybe ill get there 8.30 and just like sit in my car crying for half an hour#lol i turn up to the lab with tear stained cheeks like hey sorry if it seemed like i was resistant to coming down here. im very unwell ✌️#bleh. lets not think abt it. dont think just do. and pray i dont have to fucking go multiple days#my reward for success is no spring break bc a stressful project will begin this weekend#but im not even sure i have spring break bc im a lab tech so i think mayne thats not a loss? idk i dont kno#when im supposed to b working or not. it doesnt matter. my tine sheets r a lie#time sheets :-P#unrelated
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j-esbian · 4 months ago
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i actually hate how bad apple’s proprietary apps are. i feel like i never shut up about how apple podcasts sucks, but i also need to complain more about apple maps because what the fuck is even going on in there
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sehnsuchts-trunken · 7 months ago
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So Much Love in Oklahoma
Tyler Owens x fem!reader  7k words
summary: Tyler saves you from a tornado one day. The next, he shows up at your doorstep.
a/n: absolutely no clue about tornados. or oklahoma. don't come at me for inaccuracies
also!!! i'm currently working on some tyler smut too, but you are so definitely allowed to come request things (or just talk to me)! my inbox is wideeeee open, especially when it comes to mister owens <33
masterlist | twisters masterlist
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What happens that particular Tuesday afternoon should have been impossible. That's what goes through your head about a bazillion times in the following days. The chances of what happens even happening are about as close to zero, you think, as the possibility of you discovering a cure for cancer.
(They're not. Of course. But it feels like that.)
Because you're not even really in Oklahoma. You're just driving through Oklahoma. You're not from a place where they give you a 'How to Deal with Tornados' manual in school. You're entirely, completely, wholly unprepared for what's brewing as you drive down almost empty highways with the radio all the way up.
So when suddenly, you're in the middle of a storm, with the wind picking up until it drowns out your music and rain and hail slashing against your windows, you're absolutely terrified.
It forms within a few minutes, goes from barely grey skies to a horrible, horrible whirl of almost black clouds, and the insecurity you'd been feeling turns into the gut-churning realisation that you're unquestionably fucked.
Some part of your brain tugs out a deeply buried memory of cars being sucked into tornados on the news, so with your heart racing a few hundred miles per hour and your hands shaking so badly you can barely hold onto the steering wheel anymore, you maneuver your car onto the side of the road, just in time for you to be climbing out of the passenger seat as another car comes to a shrieking halt next to yours.
You're getting drenched within half a second, you're honestly not that sure whether your cheeks are wet from the rain or your tears, and on top of that, you almost trip as you set your trembling feet onto the ground below. The other car's driver bangs their door shut with a resounding thud that makes you flinch so hard you think your soul leaves your body. Your head shoots up as he shouts at you, already three steps away from his truck:
"What the hell are you doing out here?"
He's drenched, too - his hair sticks to his face and his shirt clings to his skin and his pants are stained at least a shade darker. But unlike you, he's not shaking, he's steady as a fucking rock, steady and quick, already reaching out for your arm before you can even begin to think. Your brain lags behind, foggy and cloudy and scared, so fucking scared. You're so terrified you can hardly open your mouth.
"I-", you stutter, then he's wrapping his big hand around your arm and tugging you away from your car, away from the road already.
"We need to get the fuck down!", he calls, pulling you with him onto one of those many, many fields that surround you. "There's a ditch over there, see that?"
You're wide-eyed, shaking, basically being dragged along by him - one foot in front of the other, that's what your brain's concentrating on right now, which is easier said than done. You trip over your own feet every other step. But the guy just wraps his arm around your waist and hurries further.
"Do you see that?", he asks again when you don't respond. Your mind races even faster than your heart does, but you force yourself to concentrate on his voice. The panic doesn't lessen, but his question shifts your focus. Ditch. Ditch. Not the storm raging around you, no, you're looking for a ditch. You're focusing on finding a ditch.
"Yeah", you breathe, your eyes finally catching on the ditch only a bit away.
"Yeah?", the guy shouts. "We need to get there. We need to get low."
With that, he picks up his pace once more and you stumble along, bumping into his side, watching the ditch come closer and closer and closer until your feet are drowned in dirty, muddy water.
"Alright, get down!", he shouts, unwrapping his arm from around your waist to help you into the cold, cold water. "Hold onto the ground!"
You aren't thinking. You can't think. Your brain has shut off completely. Panic numbs every part of you. All you can do, all you can possibly do, is concentrate on the voice of the man who's crouching down beside you. It's like his words have replaced your own thoughts, and like a marionette, you stretch out your arms and dig your fingers into the grass. Which is way easier said than done. You're pretty sure you feel one of your nails break as you try your hardest to find something, anything to hold onto. And then the wind hits.
If you'd thought you'd experienced heavy winds before, you were wrong. So wrong. No vacation in a surfer's town could possibly compare to this.
"Fuck!", you scream, instinctively dropping your head onto the moist grass below. The wind pulls and pulls and pulls at you and you imagine yourself being dragged by it - dragged away, away into certain death. But then an arm wraps around you, and the guy next to you is not next to you anymore but half on top of you, securing you in his arms, holding you close, pressing you to the ground.
"Stay down!", he shouts as you cling to the grass. "I got you."
I got you.
You replay that in your head like a mantra - he's got you, he's got you, he's got you. You're trembling, you're shaking, you're cramping, you're trying to hold onto the ground with all your might as the wind grows and grows and grows and pulls and pulls and pulls at you.
You want to scream. You think you're screaming. But it's so loud. It's deafening, the roar of the wind and the thunder. You can't hear yourself scream.
He can, though. He can. And he tightens his arms around you and repeats "I got you, I got you, I got you". And you believe him. You have to.
You're crying now, you're sure of that. Some part of you hurts. Maybe all of you hurts. You're scared. You're not just scared, you're terrified. It's loud, it's loud and it's everywhere, all around you.
And then suddenly - there's nothing.
It disappears within seconds.
There's no sounds. None. There's silence, deafening silence. Forget the calm before the storm - this is the silence after the tornado.
You take a few shuddering breaths. You're trembling, trembling from head to toes. You're soaked. You're cold.
"Alright, it's gone", the guy says - the guy that's still got his arms wrapped around you, who's still on top of you. "You did it."
He pulls his arm away from you and rolls onto his back next to you. Water sloshes around as he goes.
You don't move an inch.
You can't move.
You're stuck, you're frozen in place. Your fingers are cramped into the dirt and the grass and you're frozen.
The guy sits back up again and reaches out for you. He smooths his hand down your back, surprisingly warm against your ice-cold skin.
"Hey", he says softly. "You're okay. You can get up."
You pry your fingers from the ground one by one, flex your trembling hands and push yourself upright. It takes a few seconds for reality to sink in - you're in a ditch. In a ditch. You're soaked, soaked with muddy ditch water. Your shoes are drenched, your legs splattered with dirt, the hem of your dress soaked in brown. And you're cold. Ice-cold and trembling. And your legs hurt, your arms hurt, your fingers hurt. Three of your nails are cracked.
You're sitting in a ditch in the middle of Oklahoma and you'd just been through a tornado. A fucking ditch in Oklahoma and a tornado.
And a guy, a guy who's brushing his hand down your arm and eyeing you up.
"Alright, let's get you out of here, you're shaking", he says and for the first time, you turn your head and look at him. Actually look at him.
He's tall and he's blonde and he's drenched, too, drenched in that same dirty, muddy water as you. His hands are big, big and pleasantly warm as he grabs softly onto you and carefully maneuvers you towards him.
You don't really remember the next minutes. Not what you're doing, at least. It's a hazy, fuzzy passing of time - you barely remember that you're moving. You're cold and scared and still in shock and somehow, your eyes have locked onto him, onto this guy who you realise probably just saved your fucking life. Because when you come back to reality, he's wrapping a blanket around you - a dry, warm blanket - and the spot where you'd parked your car is empty.
Empty.
"My car", you whisper, staring wide-eyed at absolutely nothing. The guy wraps the blanket tighter around you before he looks over his shoulder and glances around.
"Your car's not that important", he reassures, even though his voice is heavy. Heavy and raspy, you realise. He's got a certain Southern twang to it that you hadn't noticed in all the chaos before. "Much more important is that you're alive."
You nod half-heartedly (he's right, some rational part of your brain shouts, while the practical part mourns the shit ton of money you'd just lost) and settle your eyes back on him.
You don't know what it is, exactly, but something about this, something about the warmth of the blanket and the way he's rubbing your arms, something about him, about his voice and his words, slowly peels away the layers and layers of terror that are clinging to your pounding heart.
You swallow hard, reach up to tug the blanket tighter around yourself and shift your focus. Not the car or the tornado or the fact that you're drenched in dirty ditch water - him. This guy in front of you, who's looking you up and down to check if you're hurt. It's easier that way. It's easier to calm down when you're not thinking about any of it. It's easier when you're staring at him, counting to ten, slowly regaining your sanity. And what's suddenly also easier is realising that this guy in front of you is very much easy to look at. Even though his hair sticks to his head, even though his jeans are stained brown. He's what you'd expect as a reference picture next to the word "handsome" in a dictionary.
All of a sudden, you're not as cold anymore. All of a sudden, you're rather flushed. Because if he's drenched and dirty, you must look about the same. And you don't think you want him to see you like that. You'd much rather meet him in a bar or something, when you're dressed up and clean and preferably not terrified.
"Thanks", you get out, a little too quickly as you tighten the blanket further around yourself. "For, uh, for saving my life."
The guy's lips quirk up and he grins, a lopsided, half-cocky grin that makes your heart leap.
"Anytime, sweetheart", he drawls, then reaches up as though he wants to tip his hat - just that he's not wearing one, so instead, he settles for brushing his hand through his hair, just a second too late to seem intentional from the start. "Why were you out here anyway? Half a mile back is a gas station with a basement."
"I didn't-", you start, hesitant to admit just how unprepared you'd been for what had happened. "I didn't know it was a tornado. I thought it was just a bad storm or something, I'm... I'm not from around here."
He nods at you, his lips already parting when you suddenly twitch away from him and sneeze - once, then twice. His grin has dropped by the time you look up at him again and excuse yourself. God, is this embarrassing.
"You need dry clothes before you catch a cold", he says, his eyes travelling down your soaked dress and your bare legs. "I've got a shirt in the trunk, give me a minute."
He walks towards the back of his car and opens up his trunk and you're hit with two thoughts at the same time. The first is more along the lines of goddamn, are his shoulders broad, but the second - arguably the one that should be more important - is why the fuck his car is still standing in the very same spot he'd parked it before the tornado had hit.
Especially when your car is absolutely nowhere to be seen. Your car and all your things inside it. Oh, god-
"Here you go", he says, holding out a dry copy of the shirt he's wearing, red checkered cotton. He's about to go on when you blurt out:
"Sorry, why's your car still... you know, there?"
His lips pull into that impossibly charming grin once more and he points at the underside of the truck.
"Tornado-proof", he explains, just the slightest bit cocky. You follow the invisible line he's drawing to two... what looks like giant screws? twisted into the ground below.
"Oh", you let out, not too intelligently - but really, what are you supposed to say?
He just chuckles and holds the shirt out for you again. You take it carefully, your fingers grazing his. He's so warm, so fucking warm. Meanwhile you're shaking even underneath the blanket he'd given you. Though that's also starting to get soaked.
"You can change in the car if you want", he offers, already pulling open the door to the passenger seat. You don't really have to think hard about it. You're drenched in the middle of nowhere, with no way to get home, and this guy has just saved your life. So you unwrap the blanket and give it back to him with a smile and a thanks.
It's tight and cramped inside the car, even as you roll the seat all the way back. You pry the drenched dress off of your body and only then remember to turn around and check if the guy is watching you (as handsome as he is, he's still a guy). But no, he's turned away, has his hands rested against his hips and is staring intently at the slowly clearing sky.
You turn back with a smile and get rid of your soaked bra, too, before you pull his shirt on over your head.
Damn, it smells good. He smells good. And it's very comfortable, you have to admit. Plus, it's dry, which is most definitely an improvement.
You take a few seconds to consider whether or not to pull off your shorts... but they're drenched, too, and the guy seems respectful enough to not risk a bladder infection for. So you take your shoes off, and your socks, and your shorts. And then you crack open the car door again and knock softly against the window.
"I'm done", you call out, loud enough that he can hear. He turns back and his eyes drag down your body - or what of it he can see through the open door - and even though he looks right back up at your face, you can't help but feel flustered. You ball your wet clothes up in your hands nervously.
"Alright then", he says, takes a step closer and reaches for the door handle. "You said you're not from around here, where were you driving?"
Ah, right, that part.
Honestly, with so much happening in so few minutes, you'd about blocked out everything else. Everything normal.
"My parents, uh-", you start, trailing off when you realise that's not much help for him. "About three, four hours from here."
"That's quite a drive", he chuckles. "I live maybe half an hour from here, how about I take you with me so you can eat and drink something? Maybe you can borrow a pair of Lilly's pants. And you could phone your parents."
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips and you narrow your eyes at him, taking a second too long to even understand all of what he's saying before taking another second too long to sort how you'll respond. Then you start with what you find most important.
"I've got my phone", you tell him, pulling it out from where you'd just deposited it in the centre console. "I had it in my pocket."
You'd taken it with you more reflexively than consciously when you'd stumbled out of your car - but truly, what self-respecting adult didn't take their phone with them when they left anywhere?
The guy just raises his eyebrows and glances at your phone.
"And it still works?", he asks, a little incredulously.
"Yep", you smile - for the first time, you realise, since the tornado. "It's waterproof."
More because you'd been scared you'd drop the love of your life into the pool or the ocean on vacation, but a tornado in the middle of Oklahoma worked as well. At least you now knew you'd spent your money wisely.
"Smart", he grins. You can't help but grin right back.
He's charming and he's respectful and he looks so goddamn good.
"Who's Lilly?", you ask then, because that had been the second thing you'd wanted to say. He hesitates for a half a moment.
"A friend", he says. You squint at him. He doesn't look like he's lying, but he does look like there's something you don't know about. God, if he turns out to be a cheater- "I'll introduce you if you'd like."
You raise your eyebrows. Alright, so not a cheater. And, if you're interpreting correctly, another invitation to come with him. Not that you'd been about to refuse the first one.
"Sure", you say, as casually as you can. "I didn't really feel like standing around half-naked on the street anyway."
...
A few minutes later, he's driving his weird car/truck with the screws on the bottom down the empty highway. Though 'empty' is the wrong description, really - here and there, trees, road signs and utility poles are scattered on the pavement.
You're driving in silence. Well, silence as in neither of you talks, not as in actual silence. Alongside the motor, the radio had turned on, playing one country song after the other.
"You never told me your name", the guy says suddenly. The very much stranger, who's very much right - you'd never told him your name.
"You never told me yours", you counter, because that's also the truth. He'd never told you his name. You knew his friend's name, but not his.
"Didn't think I'd have to", he mutters under his breath, so quietly you barely catch it. "It's Tyler. Tyler Owens?"
He says it like it's a question. You don't know why. So instead you just answer with your own name and Tyler, as you'd come to know, repeats it with a smile on his lips.
God, you don't think it's ever sounded that good.
"Pretty name", he says, all casual like that doesn't get your heart racing again. Pretty. He'd called you pretty. Almost unconsciously, you brush your hands through your hair.
"Thank you", you mutter. As if to distract yourself, you add: "So, Tyler, what do you do?"
...
Exactly half an hour later, Tyler takes your hand in his and helps you out of his car. His house - the one he's sharing with Lilly, you'd found out, with Lilly and the rest of his Tornado Wranglers - is big and inviting. It's a little way off from any other houses, which you personally think is quite nice. Not that you say that, though.
Tyler walks you inside without having to unlock the door. He takes two steps, then he calls out "Guys, we've got a guest", which immediately results in a surprised shout of "whoops" and the sound of a set of feet scurrying up the stairs. Tyler has barely pulled off his shoes (after politely asking you to wait just a second) when a head pops through the doorframe at the end of the hallway.
"Boone was naked", the woman grins before settling her eyes on you and throwing you a wave. "Hey there, I'm Lilly."
She glances down at your bare legs.
"A little cold there?", she asks and even though her words are sarcastic, her voice is anything but.
"A little", you answer truthfully, smiling at her as she steps out into the hallway.
"You want a pair of pants?", she asks, seemingly without giving a single thought to who you are or why you're standing half-naked in her hallway.
You glance at Tyler, but he's grinning and only shrugs at you, so you turn back to Lilly and nod at her. She seems sweet, really sweet, and very kind. She takes you with her to her room (up two sets of stairs, the fucking house has three floors and a basement) and shows you her closet, the very definition of unbothered even as you nervously rummage through her clothes.
"Hey, you can take a shirt too, if you want", she says, flopping down onto her bed and rolling onto her side to look at you.
"Oh", you let out and glance down at the shirt you're wearing - Tyler's shirt, that very country, checkered shirt that's way too big for you. "I'm fine, thanks."
Honestly, if it were up to you, you would never wear anything else ever again. Tyler's shirt is soft and comfortable and - most importantly - it smells like him. You really just want to tug the hem up to your nose and breathe in his scent (but that would be weird, so you don't).
"Alright", Lilly drawls. "Your choice."
...
Lilly shows you the bathroom, gives you the wifi password and tells you to come down whenever you feel like it. You realise half a second too late that you haven't told her your name yet and crack open the bathroom door to call out for her.
Honestly, you like her. You really like her. And you really like Tyler, too. He's handsome and he smells good and he's respectful and he's nice and he saved your fucking life today. You don't even want to think about what would have happened to you if he hadn't driven by.
In the bathroom is the first time you can really breathe. You throw some water at your face and blowdry your hair. Ten minutes later, you're walking down the stairs into the hallway again - this time, when you stroll through there, you're wearing comfortable pants, fuzzy socks and take your time to look around.
You'd already called your parents back in the car with Tyler. They'd been about as shocked as you'd expected, had needed a few minutes to even understand just what you were telling them, but then they'd offered to come pick you up immediately. Tyler had provided them his address and now here you are - knocking at the open door to the kitchen, where all of the Tornado Wranglers sit around the table. All of them, except for Tyler, who's leaning against the countertop and looks up at you with a grin when you step in.
"Hey there", he drawls, his eyes raking down your body once more today - you've tucked his shirt into Lilly's pants and you could swear his eyes linger on your waist. "Warm and dry?"
"Very", you grin back, then nod at Lilly. "Thanks again."
She shakes her head and waves you off.
"Hey, no big deal. Do you want some pasta?"
...
It's comfortable there, in the kitchen of these strangers who are feeding you pasta and lending you clothes. You've settled onto the countertop next to Tyler and now and then, when you're dangling your feet or he's taking a bite, your legs graze his arm. He's changed into dry clothes too, you realise as you brush against him for the first time, and he's even warmer now than before.
"Tyler's told us all about you", Boone says after a few minutes of easy conversation. You raise your eyebrows and turn your head, staring at Tyler from the side.
"Has he?", you ask, because you hadn't even told him enough about yourself to warrant any use of the word 'all'. Sure, you'd talked on the ride here - but mostly about him, because - as it had turned out - what Tyler Owens did wasn't a normal job like doctor or lawyer, but instead professional Tornado Wrangler. Which, of course, had then dominated the conversation for the rest of the drive.
"Yeah, like how you were driving to you parents and didn't know what to do in a tornado so you just kept on driving", Boone grins, scraping the rest of his pasta off his plate. "And how he made you go in that ditch and-"
"Alright, shut up, Boone", Tyler interrupts, even though there's no real malice behind his words. "She knows the story. She's in it."
"I'm just saying", Boone goes on, entirely undeterred as he puts his now empty plate down on the kitchen table. "If you'd filmed that, it would go viral for sure."
You have to snort at that.
"Yeah, because of all the indecent exposure."
...
When your mother rings the doorbell three hours later, you're in the middle of the second round of a boardgame Dexter had pulled from a drawer. You'd been paired with Tyler for the first round and - somehow not surprisingly - that had worked quite well. You'd won just so against Dexter and Dani (Lilly and Boone hadn't been too much competition) and Dani's "We never get to play this right 'cuz we're always five people" after Tyler had high-fived you with a victorious cheer had warmed your heart. At least they'd enjoyed themselves - at least you hadn't been a burden.
"I call dibs on her", Lilly had declared when the second round had begun, so Tyler had teamed up with Boone instead.
"Oh, oh, botany!", you call out, just as the doorbell finally rings. Lilly jumps up and high-fives you.
"How in the hell did you guess that?", Dani asks, sounding all but exasperated at this point as Tyler pushes out of his seat and walks towards the front door. You shrug.
"Pure talent", you joke, then you climb off the couch as well. "Alright, it was so nice meeting you all, but I think my taxi's out front."
They all hug you goodbye and tell you to come around again anytime - Boone even hands you one of those t-shirts Tyler had told you about in the car. You can hardly hold back a snort. Though Tyler had told you about the shirts existing, yes, he must have accidentally forgotten to mention that his goddamn face is printed on them, paired with the very... comedic phrase "Not My First Tornadeo".
You thread through the hallway with the shirt and your phone in your hands, only to be hit with the sight of Tyler hugging your mother on the doorstep. Or your mother hugging Tyler, more like. Either way, you're suddenly frozen in place.
But then your mother opens her eyes and sees you standing there and she lets go of Tyler with a sharp cry to come running at you instead. She throws her arms around you with so much vigor you're almost knocked off your feet. You meet Tyler's eyes over her shoulder - crinkled with lines of laughter as he smiles at you. Your eyes dart away again just as quickly.
"It's fine, mom, I'm okay", you reassure.
"Yeah, thanks to Tyler", she mutters into your hair. "I already told him we'll pay him whatever he wants for saving our daughter."
"And I already said I don't want any money", Tyler clarifies.
...
The next morning, you wake up comfortably late in a warm bed. You walk down the stairs in fuzzy socks and start the day with a simple cup of tea.
A simple cup of tea and Tyler Owens' YouTube channel.
You'd looked him and his Tornado Wranglers up the very second you'd sat down in your mother's car. Then you'd subscribed to every channel you could find. And then... you'd kind of got obsessed. You'd watched so many of their videos that by one am, you'd simply fallen asleep to one of them.
"Aunt May's gonna be here in half an hour", your mother informs you casually, a stack of plates in her hands as she rummages around in the kitchen. You're still sitting at the table in your pajamas, a spoonful of cereal in your mouth, your phone propped up against a water bottle in front of you, playing a Tornado Wranglers video from a year ago.
"Seriously?", you get out, chewing on your cereal before you can swallow it down. "Mom, I still have to shower and get ready and all."
She throws you one of those eyebrows-raised glances that immediately let you know she's judging you for something.
"We only let you sleep this long because you almost died yesterday", she says matter-of-factly, then she eyes your phone. "And if you weren't watching Tyler's videos so obsessively, you would be done by now."
"Really, mom?"
You let out a resigned sigh. She only shrugs and grins at you. She's a little bit right, anyway.
"He's good-looking, I get it", she says, then she strolls out of the kitchen, chuckling to herself while you curse at her. He is good-looking, fuck this. You need to get it together before the rest of your extended family arrives.
...
The doorbell rings for the umpteenth time that day, just as you step out of the bathroom and smooth down the front of the red-checkered shirt you're wearing. You call some version of "I got it", down the hallway, not too sure if anyone even hears - they're all in the backyard anyway. Then you open the door with a smile on your face, a smile that instantly pulls into a wide grin when you see just who's standing there.
Because it's not another aunt or uncle or cousin. It's no one in your family, not even close.
It's Tyler.
Tyler Owens.
"Hi", he says. Just that. Hi.
You lean against the open door and cross your arms. Your grin only grows.
"Hi", you echo.
His eyes rake down your body and it seems like whatever he'd wanted to say gets stuck in his throat as he realises that the shirt you're wearing isn't your shirt, really. You can't help but bite down on your lip.
Look, you hadn't expected this. You hadn't expected him. None of this was a scheme or a plan or anything even close. You'd just seen it lying there this morning, right next to Lilly's pants on your desk, and you hadn't been able to help yourself. It smelled so fucking good.
"Nice shirt", he grins, eyes snapping back up to yours.
"Thanks", you grin back. "I got it from this guy after he saved me from dying in a tornado yesterday."
Tyler chuckles.
"Seems like a great guy."
"So great", you agree. "Even though he prints his face on t-shirts."
Tyler is just about to retort something - all toothy grins and laughter lines - when your mother calls out his name, very obviously pleasantly surprised as she comes down the hallway. She smiles at him, big and wide.
"What are you doing here?", she asks, stopping next to you to ask the very question that had been on the tip of your tongue too when you'd opened up the door.
"Oh, I'm just bringing these back", he says and holds up his hand to show a stack of neatly folded clothes with your bra right on top. You have to bite down on your cheeks to stop from outright grinning.
Okay, so even if wearing his shirt hadn't been a scheme, and even if you hadn't expected to see him... You might just have done something to ensure you would see him again. But hey, he's about the most handsome man you've ever laid your eyes on, you'd be damned if you'd have to watch him on the screen of your phone for the rest of your life. So yeah, you may have accidentally 'forgotten' your wet clothes in his bathroom after you'd hung them over the heater to dry. You just hadn't thought he'd find them so quickly.
"And you drove four hours for that?", your mother asks, more baffled than you are. Tyler only shrugs. Your mother reaches out for your clothes, grabs them from him and puts them on the cupboard in the hallway. Then she looks at him.
"You're coming in, yes? We're having barbecue now and cake in a bit. I'm not letting you drive four hours here just to deliver her clothes."
...
Twenty minutes later is when you get Tyler alone for the first time. Your mother has schlepped him with you through the whole garden and introduced him to every single person there - "He's the guy who saved her yesterday!" (because, obviously, your story had been about the only topic anyone had talked about so far) - your father first and foremost, who hugs Tyler so tightly that for a moment you're afraid he'll break him.
You catch up with Tyler just as he finishes loading his plate with food, finally on his own after your mother has excused herself to go cut up more bread.
"How'd you find me?", you ask, sipping at your ice-cold coke and eyeing him up. It's the one question that had been burning in your mind for the past twenty minutes. How in the hell had he managed to find you? It's not like you'd left a note with your address next to your clothes (though in hindsight, you don't remember how you'd meant for him to bring them back to you).
He looks almost bashful for a second.
"Boone noticed you'd followed our account", he explains then. "He figured out your last name from your handle and searched the phone book of the city on your mom's license plate. And then he read out all the names until I recognised your mom's because she'd introduced herself to me yesterday."
Your eyebrows raise, further and further the more he speaks. You swallow. Silence falls for a second, then two.
"You know, some people would call that creepy", you say, but your lips tug up into an involuntary grin that gives away more quickly than you'd wanted that you aren't one of those people. Tyler grins right back at you.
"Personally I think it would've been more creepy if I'd kept your bra."
...
It's 9:20 when your mother comes over. You've long since switched from barbecue to cake, then to snacks. Your feet are tucked underneath Tyler's legs, propped up against the side of his garden chair and he's running his fingers up and down your calves.
You'd spent the afternoon chatting away and laughing, barely talking to anyone but him. Your 'family get-together' had turned into more of a date. You certainly aren't about to complain, though.
"Tyler, you're staying the night, right?", your mother asks, a fresh plate of chips in her hands that she puts next to the almost empty one on the table in front of you.
"I don't want to overstay my welcome", he says, all gentlemanly even as your mother rests her hands against her hips and stares him down.
"Young man, you're welcome in this house any time, for however long. I'm not letting you drive home four hours. You're staying the night." Then she points at you. "She's still got a couch in her room that you can sleep on. I'd offer you a guest room, but half the family's staying here and we're already out of air mattresses."
So an hour later, you're rummaging about your room, picking up clothes off the couch and stuffing them in your closet to make room for Tyler. He's leaning against your doorway, looking around, taking in the mess that is your childhood bedroom.
"Nice posters", he says, and you throw him a look over your shoulder that could be deadly. He's grinning all sarcastic, only chuckling as his eyes meet yours. "You could put up one of my shirts here."
You have to snort at that and before you can even really think about it, you've pulled the shirt Boone had given you yesterday from where you'd put it down on your desk. You throw it at him carelessly and he catches it with no effort at all, which - paired with that fucking grin - shouldn't be as attractive as it turns out to be.
"Knock yourself out", you say, then you turn back around to your closet and tug out bedsheets for him. "My old poster glue should be in one of the desk drawers."
You don't think he'll seriously do it, but you seem to have misjudged him. Badly. Because he gets to work immediately.
You watch him for a few stunned seconds before you decide to just leave him to it. So while you turn the couch into a makeshift bed for him, he glues that goddamn "Not My First Tornadeo" shirt to your wall.
"Fits perfectly if you ask me", he declares eventually, barely concealing the amusement dripping from his words. You smooth down his sheets before you look up at your wall. He's put the shirt up in one of the few empty spots, right between your Maroon 5 and Destiny's Child posters.
"Yeah", you snort. "Perfectly."
You give him a toothbrush and let him use your bathroom. While he's gone, you change into your pajamas, fold his shirt carefully and put it on a pile with Lilly's pants and her socks. Honestly, a little part of you already mourns the loss of it - but another part of you already has hope for another shirt. Maybe in a different context.
"What're you doing?", Tyler asks, shutting the bathroom door behind him. You don't look up as you fold the other clothes you'd thrown onto your desk yesterday.
"I put Lilly's things and your shirt there, you can take it back tomorrow", you explain, starting a second pile of your own clothes next to his.
"Keep my shirt", he says. That finally makes you look up at him.
Which isn't a good idea. Not at all. Because he's standing there in nothing but his briefs and good fucking lord-
You'd known he's handsome. You'd known he's broad. But you hadn't known he's fucking ripped. You shouldn't stare. You're very aware. You definitely shouldn't stare. It's incredibly rude to stare. It's very inappropriate to stare. But goddamn, this man is built so perfectly god himself must be jealous.
You have to forcibly blink yourself back to reality. You're definitely red in the face when you finally manage to meet his eyes again. And he's raised his eyebrows in a way that tells you he's reading your every emotion right off your face.
"Sorry, come again?", you croak out, brushing your hand through your hair and realising just a second too late that your eyes have travelled down too far again.
"I said you should keep my shirt", he repeats, a very, very obvious grin on his lips. "It looks better on you."
"Okay", you agree, a little too quickly. The heat in your cheeks comes from more than just the half-naked view of him now. He thinks his shirt looks better on you. You don't even care if that's a line. "I'll... I'll go brush my teeth real quick."
When you come out of the bathroom a few minutes later, Tyler has made himself comfortable on your couch. It's a little too small for him, you realise, but he doesn't seem bothered. He's pulled the covers up to his hips - you can still stare at his chest, to your delight. And he's put one hand under his head, flexing his bicep in a way that has you hurrying over to your own bed so you won't jump him right then and there.
"Alright, goodnight, Tyler", you breathe, adjusting your pillow and wrapping your blanket around your body as if grabbing at it will somehow ground you.
"Goodnight", he echoes, and then you turn off the light.
It's quiet. The only noise is the laughter of your family a floor below, all settling into bed themselves. It's quiet and it's dark.
And you're staring wide-eyed at absolutely nothing.
Oh, god. He's so fucking hot. He's so fucking hot you want to throw yourself out of the window. He's so fucking hot and he's on your fucking couch, barely ten feet from you. He's so fucking hot and he'd driven four hours here just to bring your clothes.
"Tyler", you say, barely two minutes after you'd turned the light off. He hums in response - still awake. You don't know what you'd expected. "Thanks again. For, you know, for everything."
"Anytime", he replies, and even though you can't see his grin, you imagine you can hear it. You nod into your pillow. Then silence falls again.
It lasts maybe another two minutes.
"Your family's nice", he says then. You can't help but smile.
"Thanks", you mutter.
"I like your mother", he says. Your smile only grows. You turn onto your back and stare at the dark ceiling.
"She likes you too."
It's the truth.
Tyler stays quiet. You don't even try to close your eyes this time - you can hear him breathe, deep and relaxed. It's calming. You're sure it could lull you to sleep. If you were anywhere near tired, that is. This way, you just blink at black nothingness.
"Were you really a Destiny's Child fan?", Tyler asks eventually, his sheets rustling.
"Yep", you say.
That's it for that conversation.
You don't know what it is, the darkness or the silence, but something pushes on your chest and weighs you down, warming your skin as it settles on your body. It's a tension, thick and heavy, one that had grown with every scrap of conversation.
"You know-", he starts again, but this time, you've got enough.
"Tyler", you interrupt, turning onto your side and pulling your covers with you. "Get up here."
You can't see him as he throws his bedsheets off himself, can't watch as he heaves himself up, can't look at him as he strides over to your bed - but you hear the rustling of his covers, you hear the couch creaking, you hear his steps on the floorboards. And you feel the mattress dipping when he finally sets his knees on your bed.
You don't wait until he's actually in there. You don't think you could possibly wait until he is. You just push yourself up, grab onto the first part of him you can get your hands on (his shoulders), cup his face in your palms and pull him into you.
Right into your kiss.
Tyler Owens kisses you for the first time in the darkness of your childhood bedroom. For the second time in the morning light in your bed. For the third time in your parent's kitchen, right as your mother walks in. For the fourth time in his truck, after your parents all but throw you out of their house and force you to go home with him. For the fifth time in front of his own house, where his crew watches through the window.
And after that, Tyler Owens loses count of just how often he kisses you. Because he kisses you every day for the rest of his life.
6K notes · View notes
planetaryupscaled · 6 months ago
Text
She Was Never Yours
Male OC x Sana
Tags: 16k, smut, cheating, gb, oral, creampie
The story is not ours, we alternate the original story to match our desired settings.
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The densely packed car was brimming with excitement as Sana and her boyfriend, Minkyu, sped along the final stretch of highway to their destination. The couple had been looking forward to this camping trip for months, and they could barely contain themselves when the week-long break arrived. This was their third year together, and it had become somewhat of an annual tradition to drive out to their favorite secluded spot to celebrate.
“I can’t wait to just be there!” Minkyu exclaimed with enthusiasm.
“Yeah!” Sana agreed, adjusting the straps of her white crop top she had just purchased a few days ago and was eager to show her boyfriend. She knew how attractive she was—petite and toned, with perky, full breasts and a round ass that always had men stealing glances.
Sana rubbed her smooth thighs together in anticipation. She was looking forward to lots of hot sex this week, as the stresses of their busy lives had left little time for the deed lately.
The car's cabin began to vibrate violently as Minkyu drove off the paved road and into the rocky, open desert. After about a half-hour of off-roading, they'd arrive at the familiar rock formation known as “camp”.
“Woo! Finally!” Sana cheered as the long drive came to an end. She giggled as her small body bounced around in the seat, the rough terrain testing the limits of the vehicle's suspension. Her swelling breasts were barely supported by the small fabric, threatening to spill out from under her low-cut top.
The towering series of rocks finally came into view, and Minkyu’s heart sank. “Shit... I think someone’s in our spot,” he muttered, squinting to make out the distant objects at the base of the formation. As they got closer, it became clear that their ostensibly hidden, makeshift campsite was occupied. “Dammit,” Minkyu cursed under his breath.
“It’s okay, babe. We can find another spot nearby,” Sana tried to mask her disappointment to keep the situation positive.
“I mean... Look around. This is the only decent rock for miles, and having zero shade all day is not gonna be a good time...” He answered with frustration.
Sana peered at the barren desert surrounding them. Her boyfriend was right. Without the dependable stone shelter above them, the blaring sun would get old pretty fast.
“Let’s at least see what their plans are. Maybe they’re packing up to leave right now,” Minkyu suggested with newfound optimism.
As their car approached the site, the couple got a better look at the unwanted campers. A large trailer sat parked amongst four cars, and some tents, forming a semi-circle around a smoldering fire. Sana counted about half a dozen men scattered around the camp. The sound of obnoxiously loud music soon became apparent, indicating that the group of strangers was partying hard. The ground was littered with empty beer bottles, and two men were chanting at the top of their lungs as their friend chugged one and threw it into the pile.
A tall, shirtless guy was the first to notice the advancing vehicle, and he stood up from his chair to meet the outsiders at the edge of the site. Minkyu came to a stop, and rolled the passenger window down as the stranger approached Sana’s side of the car. She couldn't help but notice the man's lean, chiseled torso, which appeared to be in excellent shape. “Hey,” the hopeful boyfriend greeted.
“What’s up,” answered the man. He was clearly intoxicated, and leaned an elbow on the window, getting a little too close for comfort. His eyes widened at noticing Sana and fell to her swelling cleavage before he added, “What can I do for you, gorgeous?”
Sana, suddenly feeling quite exposed, blushed and quickly pulled her top up to conceal herself.
“We were hoping to camp here... How long you guys planning on staying?” Minkyu asked shortly, clearly annoyed that the stranger was openly ogling his girl.
“Oh... We just got here this morning. Probably sticking around for at least a few days,” the stranger answered, not taking his eyes off of Sana. He extended his hand to her and smiled, “I’m Yejun by the way. You?”
Sana hesitantly raised her hand to shake his, not wanting to be rude. “I’m Sana...” Yejun’s hand was warm and coarse, dwarfing her own. An awkward moment passed when she met his piercing eyes. “Oh! And this is my boyfriend, Minkyu.” Sana’s heart was racing. Something about the way this guy was staring at her made her feel like prey. An anxious tingle ran down her spine as she tried unsuccessfully to pull her hand away. There was an undeniable hint of excitement though, to feel so intensely desired.
“Good to meet you,” Yejun responded, finally releasing his grip. “Anyway, you guys are welcome to join us, I know the boys wouldn’t mind having a beauty like yourself hanging around the camp,” he chuckled.
“No! I mean... No, we were hoping to have some privacy,” Minkyu stammered.
Yejun laughed. “Hey, I get it,” he said, eyes running down Sana’s body suggestively. “You know... there's plenty of room. You could just camp on the other side, and you'd barely notice we were here.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Minkyu said hurriedly, abruptly rolling the window up and pressing the gas pedal. Yejun stumbled from his position and disappeared in a cloud of dust behind.
“What an asshole...” Minkyu muttered, fuming.
“Yeah...” Sana agreed.
“I can’t believe how openly he was checking you out right in front of me! Did you really need to have your tits halfway out?” Minkyu accused her.
“I didn’t do it on purpose!” She argued. “Don’t blame me!”
“I’m just saying guys are gonna get the wrong idea if you don’t stand up for yourself,” he added.
“Ugh... Whatever. Can we just figure out what we’re doing? It’s getting late,” Sana stated angrily, crossing her arms and looking out her window at the darkening landscape.
“I guess we better scope out the other side of the rocks... At least for tonight. We don’t really have any other options,” Minkyu suggested. A quiet tension was in the air between them. He knew he had fucked up. “Sana... I’m really sorry. I was just mad about the whole situation. Can we please pretend that didn’t happen and make the best of our time here?”
“I’ll think about it...” Sana muttered. Her boyfriend’s apology was genuine enough, but she needed a minute to cool down.
The couple had reached the far side of the rock formation and were delighted to find that it was an adequate spot to camp. The rowdy campers on the other side could not be seen at all, and there were plenty of spots that offered shade from the sun.
“I think this is gonna work out after all!” Minkyu announced with renewed cheer. He swung his door open and jogged to the bed of the car, rummaging for the cooler. After producing two ice-cold beers, he trotted over to Sana’s door and offered her one. “Please forgive me?”
Sana rolled her eyes and gave in. “Fine...” She took the drink and cracked it open, enjoying the bubbly beverage that felt so hard-earned. By the time they had both finished their first drink, the couple was back to smiling and hurried to unpack.
The sun was setting as they finished the job, and they enjoyed a second beer while admiring their cozy campsite. Minkyu started a fire while Sana opened the food they had prepared for a simple first-night meal. The pair sat near the flames and munched their dinner, drinking in the vast landscape around them. Sana was about to comment on how soothing the silence was, when they both heard it. The distant booming of the noisy neighbours’ music was even louder than before.
“Seriously?” She cringed at the disturbance.
“I know... But hey... Let’s just try to ignore it. I’m not gonna let them ruin this for us,” Minkyu encouraged.
“You’re right. By the look of it, they had been drinking all day and will probably pass out soon,”
“I hope so... Hey babe?” Minkyu, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol, looked at his girlfriend with remorse.
“Yeah?”
“I just wanted to say I’m sorry again for getting jealous earlier. The way that guy was looking at you just really triggered me... and it probably didn’t help that he looked like a damn model...”
“Aw, I forgive you,” Sana comforted, stroking her boyfriend’s back. “I guess I’m more used to that sort of thing. Guys are always behaving like that around me, especially drunk ones. But I’m a big girl; I can handle it. And I’m not going to lose control just cause some dumb hot guy flashes his abs at me. I love you.”
“I love you too. Thanks. Yeah... I mean it’s hard to fault him... You are sexy as fuck...”
“Thanks! Oh, that reminds me,” Sana said, rising to her feet. “I got a little surprise for you under these... Wanna see?” Minkyu nodded, and she began swaying her hips and slowly pulling her top over her head. The young girlfriend’s full, fleshy tits bounced into view, the tiny, triangular fabric of her bikini top barely covering her nipples. Her boyfriend gawked at her admiringly as she turned her back towards him and peeled off her shorts, revealing her perfectly round ass, fully exposed in her g-string.
“Damn... How did I get so lucky?” Minkyu murmured, staring longingly at the striking beauty in front of him, illuminated by the flickering light of the fire.
“You’re about to get even luckier. Put on a condom and get in that tent, Mister,” Sana ordered playfully. Her boyfriend wasted no time climbing into the small shelter and removing his clothes. Seconds after securing the protection on his modestly sized erection, she climbed on top of him.
The couple kissed each other deeply as Sana ground her hips along his shaft. She was wet, and couldn’t wait to feel his cock inside of her. She reached back and took hold of it, positioning his throbbing tip against her slick entrance. With one smooth push, her pussy enveloped the entire length of his cock, causing them both to moan.
Sana rode her boyfriend slowly at first, relishing the feel of his hardness while he gently held her hips and groaned in pleasure. “Oh fuck baby, that feels so… good,” Minkyu cooed.
“Mmm... Yesss...” She moaned back in encouragement, slowly picking up the pace. Her tits swayed as she pressed harder against his pelvis. She was already feeling an orgasm building, and closed her eyes in anticipation. Suddenly, Minkyu moaned loudly and frantically pushed her off of him. Feeling abruptly empty, Sana watched her boyfriend’s covered dick twitch wildly as he came into the condom. She wasn’t on the pill, so they were always very safe.
“Unnngh... Fuck... Sorry babe. Shit...” Minkyu cursed under his breath.
“It’s okay,” she tried to reassure him.
“It’s just... been a while, and you look so fucking hot. I couldn’t help it...”
“Don’t worry about it. We’ve got plenty of time,” said Sana, masking her disappointment. She was still incredibly horny, but wanted to save her release for the next round with him.
Minkyu yawned and rolled onto his side. “I think I’m gonna pass out. Good night.”
“Oh... Okay. Good night babe.” Sana snuggled up against him, her pussy aching with need. Before long, they had both drifted to sleep.
Sana was jolted awake by loud, popping, explosive sounds. After a moment of confusion, she gathered that the neighbouring campers were probably setting off fireworks or something. “Those fucking dicks,” she muttered. Sana looked over at her boyfriend, who was still fast asleep. “Minkyu?” She jostled him a bit, but decided to just let him be. He had always been a deep sleeper, even without alcohol, and nothing short of dumping a bucket of water on him would stir him at this point.
Sana tossed and turned in frustration for what felt like an hour. The day had not gone as planned, and now she couldn’t even rest up for tomorrow. She checked the time to find it was three in the morning. She decided to have a few more drinks, hoping it would be what she needed to get back to sleep, but it wasn’t enough to overcome the disturbing noises. Emboldened by her intoxicated state, Sana decided she was going to give them a piece of her mind.
Slipping back into her shorts and top, and grabbing a flashlight, she started an angry march towards the jerks’ camp. As she rounded the giant rock formation separating the two groups, she realized she didn’t really have a plan for what to do or say to them. She mainly needed to vent and let them know what inconsiderate assholes they were.
Eventually, the rowdy campers came into view. Sana’s eyebrows furrowed as she approached the crowd, stiff-armed. The men were yelling, laughing, and throwing some form of small explosives into their fire pit.
“HEY!” Sana shouted at the top of her lungs. No one heard her. She stepped closer and was about to scream at them again, when one of the guys caught sight of her and alerted his friends. The group finally quieted down, but the sudden silence was eerie. The young woman felt several pairs of eyes on her, accompanied by a lump in her throat, but she couldn’t back down now.
“What the FUCK, you guys!? It’s three in the FUCKING morning, and we’re trying to sleep over there!”
“So what, bitch?” One of the men yelled back. A few of them chuckled.
“How about a little fucking common courtesy!?” She added, red in the face.
“You wanna be courteous? Come suck my dick then!” Another guy taunted.
“Woah, woah. Hold up guys.” Sana recognized Yejun from earlier, who stepped to the front of the crowd to address her. “Sana, right? I’m sorry about all the noise, but give us a break. It’s the middle of nowhere, and we didn’t even know you guys decided to post up back there. Where’s your boyfriend anyway?” He stepped closer to her.
Sana felt deflated after being confronted with Yejun’s logic. “He’s um... back at camp.”
Yejun laughed. “So, he sends his hot girlfriend to fight his battles?”
“No! I couldn’t sleep and decided to come here myself,” she replied defensively.
“Well, you’re as tough as you are beautiful then,” he said through a smile. “We’ll quiet down for you. Our bad.” Sana silently cursed the bare-chested smooth talker for de-escalating the situation so quickly. She wanted to remain angry with them, but he turned out to be so much more reasonable than expected.
“Tell you what. Have a quick shot of this drink, and you'll be sleeping like a rock with your boyfriend in no time,” suggested Yejun, who produced two cups and handed one to her.
Sana didn’t make a habit of drink heavily, but she did indulge on occasion. Much to her own surprise, she impulsively reached for the cup and took a shot.
Yejun chuckled and playfully said, “Alright! Now we’re partying! Guess you’re not such a stuck-up bitch after all...”
“Just had kind of a rough day I guess,” Sana replied, cringing a bit at her corny defense, and unsure of why she cared what he thought of her in the first place.
“Troubles with your boy?” He inquired.
“No... I mean... Not really. Maybe a little...” She responded hesitantly. She could feel the effects of the drink swiftly creeping up on her.
“Let me guess. He got all jealous on account of the obvious sparks between us earlier,” he said confidently.
“Sparks!?” Sana laughed nervously. “What sparks? There weren’t any sparks...”
“Mmm, Hmm... Whatever you say pretty lady,” Yejun teased smugly.
She scoffed. “I don’t even know why we’re talking about any of this. And you should really stop calling me stuff like that.” She stated more sternly.
“Why? So your protective boyfriend doesn’t get his panties in a bunch?” He challenged, grinning.
“No! It’s just... rude.” Sana’s mind was getting cloudier by the second.
“Well, I think you like it.” His bright eyes narrowed and slowly ran down her body, as if he was looking for physical evidence to prove his claim.
“Pshh, whatever... Don’t look at me like that.” She hated how openly he sized her up as if she were a snack, and it made her blush.
“Like what? What’s wrong with admiring a flawless woman like yourself?” Yejun took another small step towards her.
“It’s just... kinda creepy.” Sana felt uncomfortable with his increased proximity, but something about his presence had her temporarily frozen in place.
“Creepy? You expect me to believe being showered in compliments by a guy like me doesn’t excite you a little?”
She hesitated, and then deflected, “And what sort of a guy are you?”
“The kind that women throw themselves at. Especially when they have a secret desire to be dominated,” he said, looking straight through her.
Sana’s spine tingled at his cocky explanation. “Well, you must be very proud of yourself.”
“I could say the same about you, marching over here in the middle of the night in that tight, little outfit. I think you know perfectly well what sort of effect that has on men.”
“Oh please. I didn’t wear this for your enjoyment.”
“Well, I’m enjoying it anyway...” Yejun openly gawked at her curves again, this time moving a hand to his crotch and adjusting his shorts. She couldn’t help but follow his movements with her eyes, spotting the outline of a massive bulge running down his inner thigh. It looked far too big to be a penis, and her curiosity held her gaze for a moment too long.
“I-I should really get back,” Sana said, snapping her eyes away and feeling her warm face grow flusher.
He smirked at her knowingly. “Why? Afraid you might not be able to resist me much longer?” Yejun reached out and lightly stroked her hair.
“You wish...” She murmured, grabbing his wrist and tossing it away from her.
“At least have a stay with me for a while?” Yejun asked.
“Um... No thanks. I gotta... go,” she stammered. She could tell she had mere minutes before she was fully cross faded.
“Well, if you ever feel like having your mind blown, you know where to find me.”
Sana turned and started walking back to her tent when Yejun called out, “Come back anytime, gorgeous! Nice ass by the way!”
“Perv!” She jabbed back as she stepped into the darkness and out of his view.
“What an arrogant asshole...” Sana murmured to herself as she carefully strolled through the still night of the desert alone. She’d become quite intoxicated, and a flood of thoughts were swirling around in her brain. On one hand, she felt proud of herself for successfully confronting the disorderly campers, but it didn’t exactly go as planned. Had she flirted with Yejun? She reassured herself that she was simply trying to smooth things over after basically erupting on them. Sana knew deep down that something about that interaction excited her. There was an unmistakable moistness in her pussy, but she chalked it up to the drugs and alcohol, on top of not being satisfied earlier.
Sana quietly climbed back into her tent and was relieved to find that her boyfriend had not moved an inch. She decided it was probably better not to mention her night-time venture to him, especially given his reaction earlier. “It’s not like I did anything wrong,” she convinced herself. After undressing and getting into her sleeping bag, the tingle of desire in her groin had not subsided. She might have given into it if not for the overwhelming urge to sleep that soon washed over her.
Sana woke a few hours later to the warm sun in her face, and her hips being lifted off of the ground. She was beyond groggy, and had a slight headache.
“Morning, babe,” Minkyu said softly as he positioned his girlfriend’s bare ass. “I woke up so horny. Care for some hot morning sex?”
“Mmm... Yes please,” she cooed lazily as he pressed his swollen cock head against her folds to prepare for entry.
“Damn, you’re already soaking wet!” Her boyfriend exclaimed as he thrust into her from behind.
“Ooh! Yess... Fuck me baby,” Sana encouraged.
“Mmpf! You feel so slippery and warm. God yes... Did you have a sexy dream about me or something?”
Sana’s eyes widened as his question connected the dots in her memory. She had in fact had a sexy dream, only it didn’t involve her boyfriend. She shuddered at the memory, and her nipples stiffened as her lust kicked into overdrive. “Ungh... Yes... Yes I did. Fuck me! Fuck me hard, please!”
Minkyu answered her pleas by thrusting more forcefully into her. “Like that?”
“Harder! Deeper! Fuuuuck!” She met his thrusts, slamming her round ass into him in an effort to get more. Her boyfriend was already fully bottoming out in her pussy, but he did his best to comply and fucked her as hard as he could manage.
Minkyu moaned as he watched his sweet girlfriend’s round ass knock into his hips; he knew he wouldn’t last much longer. Her tight cunt squeezed his dick so wonderfully, and her wild enthusiasm was driving him crazy. “Mmmpf! I’m gonna cum baby!”
“NO! DON’T STOP!” She demanded, desperate to get off.
He closed his eyes and tightened his muscles in an effort to prevent the inevitable, but couldn’t hold back and pulled out of her gripping tunnel just in time to jerk his cock with his fist, filling the condom with semen. Sana practically cried in frustration as her pleasure came to a halt.
“Oh my god babe, I don’t know what got into you, but that was so fucking hot. I couldn’t help it,” Minkyu explained.
In her sudden guilt from her inner thoughts, Sana tried not to make a big deal about it. “It’s... fine, Minkyu. You were fucking me so good too... We’ll get plenty of other opportunities.”
“Thanks babe. Yeah, we’re gonna be doing it all week long,” he said, leaning in and kissing her. “Anyway, I'm going for a jog. You in?”
Sana hardly gotten any sleep, and desperately needed to hydrate. “Uhhh... I’m pretty hungover. I think I’ll chill here for a while.”
“You sure?” Minkyu asked, pulling on his clothes eagerly.
“Yeah, yeah. Have fun babe. I’ll join you next time.”
“Okay then. Hope you feel better,” he said while exiting the tent.
The mostly naked Sana adjusted her tiny bikini, sliding the minuscule piece of fabric over her creamy pussy and concealing her hard nipples with the equally small triangles on her top. She sat up, gulped down a nearby water bottle, and stepped outside into the bright sun. After applying protective lotion to her body, she stacked a few towels on the ground and lay on her stomach.
As Sana dozed off, the images of her naughty dream played through her mind again.
When she woke, Sana was covered in a layer of sweat. Unsure of how much time had passed, she rolled onto her back and sat up to reapply the lotion. She looked curiously at a large wet spot where her groin had been and realized her pussy was absolutely drenched.
“What the hell is wrong with me?” She wondered. The horny young woman scanned her surroundings. Her boyfriend hadn’t come back yet, and there was no one in sight. She figured her body was desperately trying to tell her its needs, so she decided to take the edge off.
Sana slipped her fingers under the soaked fabric and started rubbing her clit. She started slowly and gently, but was soon squirming around on her towel and frantically pleasuring herself. She couldn't control her moaning or the dirty thoughts of being dominated, just like in her dream, that kept invading her mind. Sana allowed herself the fantasy, and imagined the manly stranger tossing her into her tent and having his way with her.
“Fuck, fuck, FUCK! YES! FUCK ME! FUCKING USE MY BODY YOU- OHHHHH MYYYY GODDDD!” Sana’s eyes clamped shut and her back arched as her long awaited orgasm finally exploded within her. Her body writhed and her legs twitched uncontrollably as she rode through the all-consuming waves of pleasure that were thrashing her. Her mouth hung wide open, but no sounds came out until her climax finally started subsiding, at which point she let out several long moans of relief.
Sana lay there panting for several minutes, dumbstruck by the immense satisfaction of her release. There was some guilt too, but she minimized it by reminding herself that it was only a fantasy, and that fantasies were perfectly normal things to have.
The sound of a distant vehicle approaching startled her out of her reverie, and she quickly adjusted herself. She flipped the towel over just in time to lay back down when Minkyu pulled up.
The couple had a relatively peaceful rest of the day, playing cards and drinking. The boyfriend had been boozing particularly hard and Sana insisted they do their best to wash themselves with the large tank of water they'd brought. She took the opportunity to clean her 'dirty' bikini before putting it back on.
Just before they called it a night, the familiar annoyances of the neighbouring camp began picking up in volume. “Ugh, not again,” sighed Sana. The thought that she would have to go confront Yejun again briefly occurred to her, causing her pussy to moisten, but she shook the idea out of her mind.
“Those ash holesh must be nocturnal or shomething,” said Minkyu, slurring his words.
“Let’s go to bed, babe.” Sana suggest, standing, and offering a hand to help her boyfriend steady himself as he rose from his chair. She managed to guide him into the tent, at which point he collapsed, muttering something unintelligible.
“Minkyu?” She shook him, but to no avail. He was out.
The frustrated girlfriend once again found herself horny and unsatisfied while her boyfriend snored in a drunken bliss. She was pretty tipsy herself, and decided she would just try to get a good night’s sleep. There was plenty of time for the sex she needed.
However, Sana's plan wasn’t working out though, as the disturbances from the neighboring camp grew worse throughout the night. “Fucking hell,” she cursed under her breath, deciding it would be simpler to tell them to shut up again. This time, however, she promised herself she would not stay there any longer than necessary. The task was simply to silence them so she could get some rest.
Sana once again made her way around the rock formation to the camp on the opposite side. She was more nervous this time, even though her last trip was productive. After getting close enough to be in earshot of the group of partiers, she cleared her throat and yelled, “Seriously, guys? I thought we addressed this shit last night!”
“She’s here!” Announced a stranger who was the first to notice her arrival. Cheers and applause suddenly echoed throughout the camp, leaving Sana frozen in confusion.
“Oh! Fuck me! Yesss,” taunted another guy, causing the group to erupt in laughter.
Sana’s heart sank to the floor. “Are they... quoting me?” She realized in horror what they were referring to. Her face bright crimson, she challenged them, “What the hell are you guys talking about!?”
One guy answered immediately, “You know, how you want to “Use your tiny body,” I think it was.”
“To use her LITTLE body!” Another man corrected him. This got another big laugh from everyone.
The absolute embarrassment was beyond anything she had ever felt. “You fucking pervs were spying on me!?”
“Don’t flatter yourself, bitch. I just happened to be rock climbing earlier and there you were going to town on your cunt out in the open!” A third man, the apparent witness, chimed in.
“So you run back to camp and tell EVERYONE!?” Sana screamed defensively.
“Well, actually-” He was interrupted by the trailer door suddenly swinging open. Yejun walked down the steps and approached Sana, looking beyond smug. The crowd fell silent, not wanting to miss a single moment of the drama.
Sana let him have it, “This is so fucked up, Yejun! I can’t believe how disgusting you guys are. Aren’t I entitled to a little privacy!? I mean... UGH!” She turned to the group and added, “Fuck you! I don’t want to see any of you ever again. And don’t come near my camp!” With that, she spun around and began strolling away from them.
“Sana,” Yejun called out behind her. “Sana!”
“I don’t wanna hear it. I’m done trying to be cordial with you assholes!” She snapped back, not breaking her stride.
“We have video,” Yejun added calmly, just loud enough for her to hear.
Sana froze in her tracks. “You’re lying...” She muttered, her voice trembling.
“Come and see,” he said, gesturing for the rock climber to hand over his phone.
She didn’t know what to do. She had to know if there was actually video evidence of her doing and saying such things. “You better be fucking kidding!” She stormed back over to Yejun, who had the phone extended in his hand, on display.
Sure enough, a video was playing that depicted her, sprawled out in the sun, dropping her hand to her mound. She could hear the man behind the camera whisper, “Oh shit,” and duck behind a nearby boulder. Sana watched, mortified, as the scene from that morning unfolded before her eyes. The video zoomed in and it was unmistakable that it was her, skin glistening, bucking her hips as she pleasured herself. Then came the finale. Her depraved cries could be heard clear as day as she flopped around in ecstasy on her towel.
She was in shock. A sense of dread washed over her from head to toe, and yet a fiery heat had been building in her pussy. “DELETE IT!” Sana demanded suddenly. She tried to swipe the phone from Yejun, but he quickly raised it above his head and out of her reach.
“Nah ah,” he said, chuckling. “Why would we do that? The boys get horny out here, and with no Internet, this is the best we got to work with. This video is gold.” He leaned in closer, “And if you ask me, this is far superior to porn. It has a certain... personal touch, you know what I mean?”
She took the chance and slapped him across the face. He simply laughed and rubbed his cheek. His arrogance was disgusting, but Sana knew she was powerless. She had to convince them somehow. “Just please delete it, for fuck’s sake.”
“Maybe we could come to some sort of arrangement,” he suggested.
“I know where this is going. I’m not gonna let you fuck me,” Sana answered quickly.
“I figured you’d say that, even though we both know you don’t really mean it. That’s fine though. I was thinking something a little more harmless... and group-oriented,” Yejun stated with a devilish grin.
“Group? Not a single one of you pervs is laying a finger on me!”
“That’s fair. How ‘bout this. Since you’d be depriving us of our prized jerk off material, I think the only logical trade would be a live demonstration, so to speak.”
“I’m not doing that either! You know what, enjoy your dirty video. See if I care!” Sana tried to get the upper hand, motioning that she was leaving.
“Okay, then I’ll just share this with Minkyu. I’m sure he’d be very interested to see what his little girlfriend was up to while he was away,” argued Yejun confidently. He knew he had her backed into a corner.
“God dammit!” Sana shouted in frustration. There was absolutely no way she could allow Minkyu to see this video. It would crush him. It would undoubtedly ruin their relationship beyond repair. Her eyes dropped to the ground in defeat. She knew she had no choice. “Fine...”
“So you’ll do it? You have to strip for us and then pleasure yourself to completion.” Yejun asked eagerly.
“Pleasure myself... right here? In front of everyone?” The task seemed beyond daunting to her.
“That’s right. You just give us a quick little performance, we delete the video, and everyone rests easy tonight. So, do we have a deal?”
“Ugh... I guess so... But NO touching, NO cameras, and you delete ALL records of that video right in front of me.”
“Agreed. You have my word. Hear that boys? We get a show tonight!” Yejun announced, drawing cheers from the men. “Alright... Let’s get you set up over here by the fire,” He said to her, gesturing towards an open space. A couple of guys threw some towels down, while the others moved the chairs so that they were all facing the spot that she was to occupy.
“Got any shots?” Sana asked. She figured if her fate was sealed, she might as well make it easier on herself and get a nice buzz going. The men fetched a plastic shot cup and a bottle of tequila. She took three shots back-to-back in an effort to numb her anxiety.
Sana hesitantly stepped towards her “stage”. She couldn’t believe this was happening. She had never done anything like this before, and the whole situation felt surreal. She reached the towels and turned to face her audience. Her heart raced in her chest as she counted six men; six pairs of eyes eagerly waiting to watch her fully expose herself.
“Show us the goods!” Yelled one of the guys.
“Take your time! Get into it!” Added another.
Sana glared at Yejun, who simply nodded. She felt so incredibly vulnerable, but knew it would be best to just get it over with as soon as possible. “Fuck it...” she pushed herself over the mental hurdle, and pulled her top off in one smooth motion. Her bikini clad tits bounced into the open and the crowd went wild. The alcohol was beginning to kick in, and she felt the pleasant warmth from the drinks spreading throughout her body. She reluctantly peeled her shorts off, earning herself another thunderous applause.
She couldn’t help but grin the slightest bit, if only for a second. She was determined not to enjoy this forced exhibition, but something about how thrilled all these guys were to simply see her body was exciting her. She felt powerful, witnessing them lean in with wide eyes as her hands traveled to the thin straps of her bikini top. The feeling was a welcome one, giving her a sense of control in this otherwise helpless position.
“Don’t be shy! You’re so fucking hot!” Someone shouted.
“I’d give my left nut just to take the rest off myself,” another said.
Sana untied the strap around the back of her neck and the fabric covering her nipples flopped over, much to the delight of her audience. She had never felt so desirable and appreciated. She grabbed her sizable tits and squeezed them together, playing with them seductively for a moment while swaying her hips. The men were out of control, and she could barely make out what they were saying to her and one another over the music.
She had finally gained the courage to look at them more directly, and saw that some were sporting bulges that they couldn’t keep their hands off of. Not wanting to lose the momentum she had built, Sana spun around and made a show of her shapely ass. She slowly pulled her thong down and it dropped to the floor. She was completely naked now, all of her most vulnerable parts on display for this group of strangers she knew almost nothing about.
“Slap your ass!” A voice suggested. She did so without a second thought. The whole ordeal was beginning to feel natural. Everyone cheered. “Bend over and do it again!” She complied. Her inhibitions melted further with each passing moment. She wouldn’t admit it to herself yet, but she was starting to enjoy the attention.
“Get on your knees and pinch your nipples!” Sana obeyed, lowering herself and rolling her stiff nipples in her fingers. She could feel her bare pussy getting wet as she followed the lewd instructions. “Touch your pussy!” Her hand fell between her legs, and she glided her fingers over her slippery lips, sending a bolt of pleasure through her.
“Spread your legs so we can see!”
“Are you wet?”
Sana nodded, and rested her ass on the towel, parting her legs and fully revealing her glistening pussy. She started lightly rubbing her clit, her drooling sex begging for more attention. One by one, she witnessed the men freeing their erections and stroking themselves to her performance. She had never seen more than one cock at a time, let alone six. At least four of them were noticeably bigger than her boyfriend’s, and she felt herself captivated, curiously examining the various shapes and sizes.
“Damn, that pussy looks tight!”
“Oh my, it’s perfect!”
Her eyes found Yejun, who had been surprisingly quiet throughout the ordeal. His cock was shockingly thick and lengthy, just as she had imagined. He gently massaged the spot where the shaft met his swollen mushroom tip, causing it to visibly throb. She briefly wondered if it would even fit inside her.
Sana openly moaned in pleasure as she publicly stimulated herself. When Yejun laid out the details, that she would touch herself to completion, she’d thought the degrading act would end with her faking an orgasm and getting out of there as soon as she could. It was now clear though that her body was responding well beyond her expectations.
“Why is this turning me on so much?” Sana thought to herself. She felt like such a slut, getting herself off while six horny strangers rubbed their hard dicks right in front of her. Sana’s mind was overcome with lust, and increasingly dirty thoughts infiltrated her innocence. She imagined the men losing control and taking her right then and there, using her body to satiate their big cocks. The vision made her shiver with wicked delight.
One guy moaned suddenly, grabbing her attention, and she watched as he began shooting ropes of cum onto the ground between them. The sight of it fueled Sana’s desire even further, and she whimpered with need as the nameless camper drained his balls for her.
“Fuuck... You made me cum so hard, you slut,” he said to her.
The naked Sana nodded slowly at him; her face scrunched in apparent pleasure as she worked her clit with fervor. She was getting close, desperate to achieve the massive release that this unbelievably dirty scene was building in her.
Two more of her audience members soon hit their limits, grunting as they pumped their hardness, and spewing their creamy loads all over the desert sand.
“Ungh, Yes!” Sana squealed. Watching the big cocks explode for her was driving her mad. She had no idea that being the center of attention for a group of horny men would turn her on so much, but she couldn’t get enough. She finally hit her peak, and screamed in pleasure as a powerful orgasm shook to her core. The men cheered for her, but their voices were drowned out as her senses focused on nothing but her overwhelming climax.
Sana lay there twitching wildly for a solid minute before finally opening her eyes. Yejun was standing over her, pumping his fat cock in his fist. “Oh fuck...” She cooed, biting her lip, as he seized up and pointed his pulsing meat at her. A long, sticky rope of semen shot out landed across her torso. Another splattered all over her tits. The next reached as far as her chin, pooling in the crevice below her neck.
Sana, still in the aftermath of her orgasm, watched in amazement as Yejun painted her smooth skin with his warm cum. He had pushed the arrangement further than they had agreed upon, but at that moment, she didn’t mind it. In fact, she was glad he did. Being covered in the copious seed of the dominant stud jabbed at something primal in her. She felt like she might cum again right then from the mere sight of him.
Yejun’s last few dribbles landed directly on her mound, trickling down her tender pussy and mixing with her own juices. “That was quite the show, wouldn’t you say, gorgeous?”
Sana simply nodded, still catching her breath.
“God, you look so fucking beautiful all covered with my cum.”
She moaned lightly. If he had wanted to fuck her right there and then, she would have let him. Her soaking pussy felt insatiable.
“Well, my cum slut, I’d say you definitely earned your right to delete the video,” Yejun said.
“Okay...” She murmured, still panting. She hardly even cared about the video anymore. Things felt different now.
“I’d ask if you enjoyed yourself, but I think we all already know the answer,” he teased. The other men agreed.
“This slut is fucking wild. Are you gonna stay the night with us, sweetie?” One asked.
“Shit,” Sana muttered, a bit of reality coming back to her. “How long has it been? I need to go.”
“Up to you. You have my permission,” Yejun said with authority.
“Oh, thaaanks,” she responded with sarcasm. She was learning to enjoy the way he talked down to her. He offered her his hand, and she took it, rising to her feet. She could feel his cum drizzling down her skin.
“You should wear my cum all the way back to your boyfriend,” he suggested, groping her ass with one of his hands.
“I... can’t do that...” Sana picked up the towel and wiped herself off. As much as the thought of going right to sleep with Yejun’s cream all over her turned her on, she could never be that cruel. Yejun smacked her ass with a loud crack, causing her to yelp. “Hey! No touching!”
“Oh please. You love it. Want another?” He asked, grinning.
“Screw y-AH!” She was interrupted by another firm slap. Sana tried her best to maintain a disapproving look, but she knew he wasn’t buying it.
Much to everyone’s disappointment, the sexy young woman got dressed and said her goodbyes, trotting out of the camp. Her mind was racing. The gravity of what had happened hadn’t fully settled in yet, and the dull pangs of guilt were overshadowed by her incredible lust.
She climbed into her tent to a snoring boyfriend, and immediately got to work on her ravenous pussy. Sana pleasured herself relentlessly, soaking the fabric of her sleeping bag and losing track of how many times she came. She could still smell the faint scent of Yejun’s cum on her, and wished she hadn’t wiped it off. Her hand did not leave her cunt until she eventually passed out.
The next morning proved to be troublesome right off the bat. Sana was woken up by Minkyu climbing on top of her. He had opened her sleeping bag and was presumably attempting to stir her in the hopes of having sex.
“Good morning,” he said, kissing her. “Ah, last night was a blur. Apparently I came all over you?”
Sana looked down at her skin and found she was covered in several white streaks of dried semen. Her hasty wipe down had not even come close to actually removing all of Yejun’s enormous load. “Oh... Yeah. I was drunk too, but I do remember us fucking and you wanting to cum on me,” she lied.
Minkyu laughed. “That’s so weird, I never do that. It must’ve been some crazy good sex. That seems like a lot of cum!”
“Oh my god, yeah... It was so much.” She could feel her pussy getting drenched as she recalled the previous night.
“I didn’t accidentally cum inside of you too, did I?” He asked worriedly. Sana’s heart skipped a beat, unsure of why he would think that. He motioned to the large stain in her sleeping bag where her crotch had been. It was surprisingly big, and she could see how it could be mistaken for dried semen. It was cum, for sure, but hers.
“Uh... No. It wasn’t inside me, don’t worry. I just wiped it off my body and onto that spot.” It was a lame explanation, but she hoped it made enough sense. Sana crawled over to the pack of water bottles on one side of the tent and Minkyu gasped.
“Holy shit. Did I spank you too?”
“Huh? Oh! Y-yeah. You did...” She tried to get a look at her ass cheek and could see part of the large, deep red prints. “Damn, Yejun marked me good,” she thought.
“What the hell got into me last night? I’m never rough with you. I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry babe. I had an amazing time last night,” Sana reassured him. “Anyway, you really wore me out, so I’m gonna drink this and try to get some more sleep.”
“Aw, I was hoping we could do it, but yeah if I did all that to you then I understand.”
“There’s always later.” Sana kissed him.
“Well, I guess I’ll go for a drive,” Minkyu stated.
“Okay, have fun,” she said, between big gulps of water. Sana waited for the sound of her boyfriend’s car departing to let out a big sigh of relief. That had been way too close for comfort, and she was angry with herself for jeopardizing their relationship. Now that she was sober, the guilt was really starting to weigh on her. As much as she was enjoying her new-found naughtiness, she needed to put a stop to it before things got even more out of hand.
As Sana tried to sleep, her mind was constantly bombarded with visions of her dirty exhibition. She gave in and rubbed her pussy to the thought of Yejun and his huge, juicy cock showering her; claiming her. She wished he had not let her leave and fucked her cum-covered body all night. Maybe if she had just gotten to experience him inside of her, she could finally be released from this spell of perpetual lust she was trapped in.
After a series of quality orgasms, Sana’s arm was tired and needed a break. It hadn’t been enough though; she needed more. “What the fuck is going on with me?” She decided to give her swollen clit a break. She slipped on her tight bikini and lay on her stomach just outside of the tent.
She didn’t realize she had dozed off, and woke groggily to strong hands rubbing her lower back. “Oh, hey babe. How was your drive? Mmm... That feels nice.”
“I couldn’t just stand by and let you burn your perfect skin.”
“Yejun!? Wh- Y-You can’t be here!”
“Shhh... Just relax and let me make you feel good,” Yejun said calmly, pressing his strong thumbs into her and expertly rolling them along her spine.
It did feel great, but she couldn’t risk Minkyu showing up and seeing Yejun with his hands all over her. “Yejun. Seriously. This is wayyy too far.” Sana tried to push up from the towel, but he pressed a palm between her shoulders, firmly holding her in place. “What the fuck! Let me go!”
“Just go with it, slut. I know what your body needs,” He insisted. His oily, free hand roamed down her backside and reached her bare ass.
“Don’t call me that! Last night was a one-time deal, and it never should’ve happened in the first place,” Sana argued.
“Psh. You fucking loved every second of it. Don’t lie.” He squeezed her shiny ass cheek and jiggled it around.
“I didn’t! You took advantage of me!” She held firm, and wasn’t going to let him manipulate her. Yejun swiftly brought his open palm down on her, spanking her exposed flesh. “AH! Stop!” He struck her again. She whimpered and tried to wiggle out from under him. He countered her attempt by sitting on her back and pinning her arms to her sides with his legs. Yejun now had full access and groped her slick cheeks with both hands.
“I’ll make you a deal. If your slutty little pussy isn’t soaking wet, I’ll leave you alone,” he said. Sana squirmed and kicked her legs as he forced her thighs apart. She knew she had no chance with those terms. He slid her tiny thong to the side and ran a finger over her exposed pink lips. “Ha. Beyond soaked. Let’s check inside though, just to make sure.” He pushed two of his thick fingers deep into her cunt. She couldn’t help but moan. “Wow, you couldn’t be more drenched, you horny little thing. Guess that means you DO want this,” he stated.
“No! Ungh... Stop!” Sana continued to protest, but his fingers were feeding the growing fire in her. He worked them carefully, thrusting in and out of her, and curving them in different directions to test her reactions. She tried her hardest to block out the pleasure, but her involuntary moans were increasingly frequent. Her pussy was clenching around him, desperate to be more fully stuffed. The helpless girlfriend’s secret fantasy was becoming a reality, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. Despite her best efforts, Sana was about to cum hard.
Yejun sensed a change in her breathing, and tensing of her muscles. He quickly withdrew his fingers, and she groaned in obvious disappointment. “Nooooo,” she whimpered. He plunged back in, thrusted a few times, and pulled out, grazing her clit as he passed it. “Yes-Oh my god-fuck-NOOOOO!” She cried out the words in quick succession as he gave her more, and complained with further desperation when he denied her again.
“I’m getting mixed signals here. What do you want?” He asked, smiling smugly. He continued the torturous pattern, keeping her right on the edge.
“Fuck! Just-Ungh-Do it!”
“Do what?”
“Make me cum!”
“Are you sure?” He rubbed her clit frantically, only to stop after a second.
“UGH! YESSSS!”
“With my cock?”
“PLEASE!” It didn’t even register to Sana what she had agreed to, but it was too late. Yejun immediately jumped behind her, pulled his shorts down, lifted her hips, and pushed his hard cock straight into her dripping pussy. She shrieked as his giant cock invaded further and further into her depths, stretching her to her limits. Sana screamed and moaned wildly as each inch of his thick, veiny cock entered her. Before he was even half-way in, she exploded in orgasm. Her entire body quivered uncontrollably, and her pussy pulsed around his meat as the incredible pleasure rocked her.
Yejun grunted blissfully as he bottomed out in the sexy, young girlfriend. He paused for a moment to savor her tight, gripping hole, and the way her full ass rippled as she shook beneath him. He had finally claimed her; speared her precious cunt at the camp she shared with her boyfriend. He began slowly easing in and out of her as Sana’s screams turned into drawn out moans.
“You loving my big dick, slut?” He asked confidently, smacking her on the ass.
“AHGH! Yes! Ohhmm my fucking God! It’s soooo - Ungh! - huge!” Sana couldn’t believe how fully stuffed she felt, nor how amazing the feeling.
“You’ve been secretly hoping I would force myself on you, haven’t you?”
“Fuck! Yessss... Oh... You made me cum so fucking hard...”
“Do you cum that hard for your boyfriend?”
“Ungh... No... Never,” she felt bad for a brief moment at admitting it, but she was far too caught up in the heat of the moment to care.
“If you ask nicely, I’ll give you another one.”
“Mmmpf... Please... Please make me cum again...”
Yejun, pleased with her submission, grabbed a fistful of her hair and began ramping up his pace.
“Oh, fuck! Fuck me, Yejun! Yes!” Just like in her fantasies, he was being rough and dominant with her. It was something she didn’t know for sure she would like until this moment. He pulled her hair back tightly and started ramming into her. The repeated cracks of his skin hitting hers echoed against the rocks looming over them.
Sana clutched the towel in her fists as Yejun forcefully pounded her from behind. He was not holding back, slamming his entire length into her while she moaned loudly in encouragement.
“You love being fucked hard by a real man, don’t you, bitch?” He asked with authority.
“Anngh! YES! It’s so fucking gooood! Ohhhh! I’m gonna! Fucking! CUM!” Sana’s pussy clamped down hard on Yejun’s throbbing cock as he slammed into her one last time and flexed his meat, causing it to swell and stretch her even further. He released her hair and caught her chest, firmly squeezing her tits and pinching her nipples. She flailed in ecstasy in his arms as her senses were overwhelmed with pure pleasure.
Before her mind-shattering orgasm had run its course, he aggressively flipped her onto her back and crawled on top of her. Yejun rubbed her clit with his mushroom tip, making her squirm around beneath him. He then pressed into her sopping wet folds and filled her spasming pussy again. He pressed his mouth against hers, and drove his tongue into her welcoming mouth. The two kissed deeply and passionately while he slowly eased in and out of her, moaning into each other’s mouths.
“Oh my fucking God, Yejun...” Sana was at a loss for words. She couldn’t believe how incredible she felt. She hadn’t the slightest idea sex could be this good.
“Mmm...” Yejun was relishing the moment, drinking in the sight of the beautiful woman who was finally under his control. She was clearly captivated by him, her eyes telling the story of a girl who just had a sexual awakening. He pressed his hard body into her soft chest and kissed her again. “You know you’re mine now, right?”
“Ugh... Yes... I’m all yours...” She whispered back, kissing his neck. She didn’t overthink it. Sana just gave into the moment, and at that moment, he owned her.
Still gently working his full length in her, he said, “You’re staying with me tonight.”
“Okay...” She agreed automatically.
“You like sneaking around and being my little cheating slut, don’t you?”
“Yeah...”
“Isn’t it so fucking hot to be used behind your boyfriend’s back?” Yejun started thrusting more forcefully again.
“Mmm... Yes... It is...”
“You want me to use your little body a lot more, don’t you?”
“Ugh... Fuck yes. So much,” Sana admitted.
“Good. Now beg me for my cum like the little cheating whore you are.”
“Mmmpf... Yes. Please cover me with all your hot cum again,” she pleaded.
“Hmm... I was thinking of unloading inside of you this time,” he stated, as if her opinion didn’t really matter.
“But, I’m not on the pill,” she explained quickly, just then realizing that she had been enjoying this raw, uncovered cock that whole time.
“Even better,” he said devilishly. “But ok, we’ll save that for next time.” He shifted gears, and started driving into her more harshly. He brutally fucked her into the ground while grunting more dirty things to her.
“Take that dick, you cheating slut!”
“Yes! Fuck me hard!”
“Who fucks you the best?”
“You! Ungh! You do!”
“Better than your boyfriend?”
“Oh my god! So much - Fuck! - Better!”
“Don’t forget it, bitch!”
“Ahh! I won’t! Hngh! I’m gonna cum again!”
“Do it! Cum on my cock slut!”
On command, Sana’s eyes rolled back as her third explosive climax with Yejun rippled through her. He pulled out of her and jerked his slimy cock over her writhing frame. His first several creamy ropes shot out across the entire length of her body, streaking her from her belly to her hair. The next thick strands flung in different directions, splattering her skin as he aimed his twitching dick in an effort to cover as much of her as possible.
Sana watched in awe as the chiseled stud towering over her coated her in his warm seed. She couldn’t believe how much sticky semen was spurting out of him as he claimed her. It was the most erotic thing she had ever witnessed.
Yejun breathed heavily as he admired the freshly glazed woman beneath him. He lazily wiped his oozing cock along her swollen pussy. “Damn... I could get used to seeing you like this.”
Snapping them both out of their orgasmic bliss, the distant sound of a vehicle was suddenly apparent. “Oh shit! Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Sana cursed frantically. In her panic, she started rubbing the cum into her skin and wiping the excess onto the towel. Yejun grabbed his shorts and scrambled to the nearest boulder, ducking out of sight.
Minkyu’s car came into view and halted in its usual spot just as she adjusted her bikini back into place. Sana’s heart was racing as she inspected her skin, hastily smearing the patches she had missed. “Hey babe!” Her boyfriend said, stepping out of the car and approaching her.
“H-Hi! I um, was just reapplying,” she stammered, trying desperately to sound calm.
“Cool. You feeling better?” He said, drawing closer.
“Sooo much better...” She said truthfully. Minkyu was getting too close, and she feared he would notice something was off. “Wait!” She jumped to her feet. “Let me wash up really quick, I smell terrible,” she said, scurrying to the water tank.
“Uh, okay. I thought you just put more lotion on though,” Minkyu said suspiciously.
“Oh... yeah. Well, I didn’t know when you’d be back, but I’ve had enough sun for now,” Sana stated through her nervously clenched jaw. She doused herself with a generous amount of body wash and splashed herself with water, trying to erase all the evidence of her steamy sex.
“Hey, neighbors!” Sana’s eyes widened in horror as Yejun emerged, smiling and waving at the couple. “Oops. Am I interrupting shower time?”
Minkyu stepped in front of Sana, who had just been scrubbing the small patches of skin under her bikini. “Uh, yeah. What are you doing here?” He asked, furrowing his brow and trying to conceal his nearly naked girlfriend.
“My bad. I just thought I’d stop by and invite you guys to party with us tonight. I know we haven’t been on the best terms, but it’s our last night here, and I thought it could be like a peace offering or something,” Yejun proposed.
His invite caught them both off guard. To Minkyu, it seemed to come out of nowhere, and Sana was shocked by his boldness. Minkyu replied first, “I dunno, You guys have been kind of a headache since we got here, to be honest.”
“I know, and I am sorry about that. That’s why I wanna bury the hatchet. Free food and drinks on us, and then you guys can have our spot when we head out,” Yejun reasoned.
Sana stepped out from behind her boyfriend and looped her arm into his. “That could be fun, babe. Maybe we should give them a chance to make it up to us.” She shot Yejun a quick grin.
Minkyu recoiled the slightest bit, partly in surprise that his girlfriend was considering the invitation, and also in annoyance that she was now fully visible to the unwanted visitor in her skimpy bikini. The fact that she was hanging on his arm though, put him at ease. “Hmm... We’ll think about it.”
“Alright, well. Come on over as early as you’d like! See you guys,” Yejun said warmly as he turned to walk back towards his camp.
Sana’s pussy tingled, wondering what he was up to. “Aw, I think he actually feels bad. We should go. Get drunk for free, and then enjoy the rest of our week how we intended.”
“I guess you’re right. Something about that dude rubs me the wrong way though. Plus I thought you hated them even more than I did,” Minkyu argued, conflicted.
“C’mon, he doesn’t seem that bad. We can always leave if the party’s lame.” Sana insisted.
Minkyu sighed, but finally agreed, not wanting to disappoint his beautiful girlfriend.
As the sun dipped below the distant desert hills, the young couple set off towards the rowdy camp, which unsurprisingly could already be heard loud and clear. Yejun was the first to notice them approach, and jogged over, two beers in hand. “You made it!” He nestled between them and draped his arms over their shoulders, filling their empty hands with the ice-cold bottles. “You guys have some catching up to do,” he said, squeezing Sana’s ass and winking at her.
“This is Sana and Minkyu, boys! Let’s show ‘em a good time,” he announced to his friends. The men shouted their greetings towards the couple. Sana noticed them stealing knowing glances at her, which she had fully anticipated. She wore a tight, white tank top and a short, black skirt. The thought of the big group of hot guys lusting after her again was exciting, but she hoped they understood not to make it obvious that they had met her before.
The gathering quickly proved to be a good time for both Minkyu and Sana, who played a few rounds of board games, and enjoyed tasty burgers one of the men had cooked up. Everyone was becoming quite intoxicated, and a little less sneaky when checking out Sana. Minkyu hadn’t seemed to notice, though, as he was constantly being offered drinks and distracted by various conversations. Every so often, Yejun would grope Sana when her boyfriend wasn’t looking, and she’d smile slyly at him.
At one point, she announced she had to use the bathroom, and Yejun was quick to offer the facilities in his trailer. He gave his friend, who was engaging Minkyu in a detailed discussion about their cars, a nod, and quietly slipped into the large enclosure behind Sana.
As soon as the door swung shut, they were all over each other. They made out hungrily, and had their hands in the other’s clothes within seconds. “Couldn’t wait to sneak off for some of this, eh?” He asked, as she wrapped her fingers around his hard cock.
“I need your fucking cock,” Sana cooed.
Yejun laughed, “You’re such a slut. Get on your knees.”
Sana complied immediately, kneeling at his feet, and pulling his waistband down until his erection sprang out in front of her face. She realized she hadn’t seen it this close before, nor had she felt it in her hand. It was so girthy and warm. Admiring his impressive erection was making her salivate.
Once again, Sana found herself wondering how she had changed so much in a matter of days. She had enjoyed the pleasures of sex for years, but never to this extent. She was becoming obsessed with being dominated by a huge cock like Yejun’s. She felt compelled to worship it.
She rested the massive appendage on her face, savoring the musky aroma and weight of it. She snaked out her tongue, and savored her first taste of it, teasing him with little licks up the length of his shaft. Upon reaching the bulbous, velvety head, she flattened her tongue and massaged the bottom ridge.
Yejun let out a small moan, fixated on her mesmerized face. She swirled her tongue around the circumference before pulling the head into her mouth and sucking on it. He pushed forward slowly, and she accepted more of the thick meat until it hit the back of her throat. Sana tried to pop it out of her mouth, but he placed a hand on the back of her head and held her there. After several seconds, he finally pulled her face off of him by her hair, causing her to cough. A large string of saliva hung between her tongue and the tip of his cock.
“Mmm... I love how your big cock feels in my mouth,” she murmured, stroking his sticky shaft with her slender hand. A clear bead of precum formed at the tip, and she lapped it up with the end of her tongue. “Mmmpf...” Sana slurped him down to the back of her throat again, gagging slightly, and began sliding him in and out of her mouth.
“Ughhh... what a hot cum slut...” Yejun moaned under his breath. “God damn you’re a natural. Better milk that cock like your life depends on it. Minkyu’s gonna be wondering where you are soon,” he warned teasingly, resting his hands on the back of his own head and letting her do the work.
Sana sucked him off with her warm, wet mouth with as much effort as she could muster. Her gargled moans synced up with the squelching of her pumping fist. “Don’t forget to look up at me,” Yejun instructed. “A good cocksucker always shows her eyes.”
She obeyed, and stared up at him with an expression that conveyed, “Please give me your cum.”
He started tensing up and sucking in his breath sharply. “Ungh... Here it comes...”
Sana felt him twitch against her tongue, and soon felt strong blasts of creamy fluid hitting her throat. She tried her best to swallow it fast enough, but the enormous load was overflowing her tiny mouth. Some of his semen spilled out past her lips, and Yejun grabbed her head and rammed his spurting cock straight down her throat.
“Breathe through your nose. Good girl. We don’t want to be making a mess just yet.”
She felt Yejun’s warm cum sliding straight down her throat, and choked through the forceful hold he had on her. Sana was finally able to relax her muscles, and allowed him to drain his balls directly down to her stomach. Her pussy was absolutely drenched, responding to the way he continued to roughly manhandle her. She didn’t understand why she craved the abuse, but was becoming addicted to being used like a toy.
When the last of Yejun’s unbelievably copious load had been swallowed, Sana licked him from balls to tip one last time and pleaded, “Please fuck me Yejun. I’m so wet for you.”
“Later. For now, you need to get back to your little boyfriend,” he answered dismissively.
She pouted, but knew he was right. She had been away for long enough. Sana straightened herself up, fixed her hair, and quietly exited the trailer. She was relieved to find Minkyu hadn’t moved from his chair, and approached him from behind, putting her hands on his shoulders. He reeled around to look at her, and she could tell from his eyes that he had continued getting drunker.
“OH HEYYY! Where did you go?” He inquired through a crooked smile.
“I just had to use the bathroom,” she answered simply.
“Well we just took shots. You want one?” Minkyu asked her, motioning to the bottle of tequila on the table nearby. She agreed, quickly pouring and gulping down her shot. It instantly warmed her belly and was the perfect thing to mask the strong taste of Yejun in her mouth.
She noticed the guy her boyfriend had been talking to was staring at her, grinning. “He probably knows I was in there messing around with his friend,” she thought. To her surprise, it didn’t embarrass her in the slightest. She found it hot that all these random guys knew what a slut she had been recently. Sana noted the alcohol setting in, and it made her even more horny.
“What’s your name?” She asked the attractive man sitting across from Minkyu.
“Brad,” he replied, flashing his exceptionally white teeth.
“Brad’s pretty cool, babe. He has almost the exact same try-”
“Can you toss me that beer Brad?” Sana asked sweetly, interrupting her boyfriend. He threw her the nearby can, which she caught, opened, and tipped into her mouth. She then proceeded to spill a generous amount of the cold liquid all over her top, completely soaking the white fabric through. “Oooops!” She feigned the accident and smiled gleefully at Brad’s open mouth stare. Her large chest and black bikini top were clearly visible under the now transparent garment.
“Babe, how drunk are you?” Minkyu asked, laughing heartily at her clumsiness.
“I guess a little more than I thought,” she lied. “I’ll just have to take this off. At least everything underneath is waterproof.” She had raised her voice for that last comment, peering around from her peripheral to see how many heads she turned.
“Sana, wait!” Minkyu shouted to stop her, but it was too late. His girlfriend pulled her top off and stood near the center of the camp almost completely naked from the waist up. “Avaaaa...”
“Babe, relax. It’s just a bikini. I would wear this at the beach,” she tried to reason with him.
“You’ve never worn anything even close to that small! Your tits are like completely out!” Minkyu’s argument backfired, as his loud comments had drawn everyone’s attention to her. A few of the men exclaimed their approval as Minkyu’s face grew red with anger.
“It’s okay love,” she said as she approached her jealous boyfriend. “Guys are going to look at me sometimes, but I’m all yours. I promise.” She kissed him deeply, feeling his tension melt away as she pressed into him and reassured him of their status. “Now take another shot with me.”
“Okay...” Minkyu finally agreed, sheepishly. The couple downed another dose of the brown poison and everyone cheered at realizing Sana would be nearly topless for the rest of the night.
Yejun reappeared at some point during the commotion and grinned slyly at Sana. “I’ve got a fun idea!” He announced. “Minkyu should do a body shot off his hot little girlfriend!”
“Oooh that would be sexy. Let’s do it babe!” Sana liked where the plan was going.
“I dunno... I think I might’ve hit my limit,” slurred Minkyu, stumbling a bit.
“Okay, someone else’s turn then,” Yejun suggested, still smiling at Sana.
“No, wait, wait, wait... I’ll do it,” Minkyu said.
“Alright, let’s do a titty shot.” Yejun boldly squeezed a lime wedge over her chest, getting it all sticky with the sour juice, and sprinkled some salt on top. He then carefully pressed a full shot cup into her cleavage. Sana helped by squeezing her tits together to secure the drink. “Okay, lover boy. Got her all set up for ya.” He said to Minkyu, staying next to Sana and placing a hand on her lower back.
The drunken boyfriend stepped over to her and straightened himself up. “Lick one, take the shot, and lick the other. No hands,” Yejun instructed. Sana giggled as Minkyu gently tongued her left breast and then struggled to get the shot securely in his mouth. He threw his head back clumsily, spilling most of the alcohol on himself. The onlookers laughed.
“No prob, let’s try it again. Just open your mouth and put it right here between these delicious tits,” Yejun suggested. His hand had slowly wandered down her backside and was now under her skirt. As Minkyu got into position at the base of Sana’s chest, Yejun held the tequila bottle over her and slowly tipped it downwards. A stream of alcohol poured down through her fleshy crevice and straight into Minkyu’s waiting mouth, which quickly filled to maximum capacity.
Minkyu reflexively swallowed the mouthful, choking a little, and stumbling backwards. “Oh fuck, I’m gonna be sick,” he winced, clutching his stomach.
“Go throw up behind the trailer. That’s kinda our spot.” Yejun motioned towards the
large vessel at the edge of camp.
“You alright, babe?” Asked Sana, sweetly. She felt guilty for letting her boyfriend drink so excessively, but he was going to do that anyway, she reasoned.
“Y-Yeah, I’ll be - hich - fine... Jusht gotta...” He staggered into the shadows, mumbling.
“Who’s next?” Asked Yejun, firmly squeezing Sana’s plump ass beneath her skirt.
Brad was first to fill the space in front of her. A tight circle of men had formed around the much smaller girlfriend, her breasts glistened as they rose and fell with her breathing. She was beyond excited, and was flooding her tiny thong in her juices; right next to Yejun’s exploring fingers.
Brad placed his hands on Sana’s bare waist, just above the hem of her skirt. “You’re so fucking hot,” he said admiringly.
“Thanks! Not so bad yourself,” she replied, smiling widely.
Yejun abruptly pulled at the strings around her neck and the small patches of fabric slid up to her collar bone. Sana squealed and bounced a little as the concealed parts of her breasts came into view. Her hard nipples pointed straight at Brad, who was looking at her like she was a meal. Yejun lightly drizzled some tequila over her naked tits and Brad pounced. He noisily slurped at her smooth skin, licking and sucking her chest dry.
Sana softly moaned as the burly man took her stiff nipple into his mouth and rolled his tongue around it. Yejun had begun tracing his finger back and forth along her covered, wet slit. She was beyond horny, sandwiched between the two strong males. One attacked her tits ravenously while the other teased her pussy. She arched her back, sticking her chest out and placing her hands on Yejun’s thighs behind her to steady herself.
Yejun called for the next round, and Brad stepped away disappointed. One by one, the other four men took their turns ridding Sana’s tits of alcohol. They grew bolder over time, roughly squeezing and pinching her fleshy orbs as they sucked at them. A couple guys even licked up her neck and ended up forcing their tongues into her mouth. Her moans intensified as they took more liberties with her. Yejun had slid her thong to the side and was firmly rubbing her slippery clit.
As the last stranger was biting her sensitive nipples and groping her chest in his rough hands, Sana murmured, “Oh my God... I’m gonna cum, you guys...”
Just then, Minkyu could be heard dragging his feet through the dirt. “Sana?”
“Minkyu!” She shouted, her volume influenced by a mix of surprise and her rapidly approaching climax. Luckily, her half-naked form was concealed behind the wall of taller men. “You feel okay, babe?”
“Ugh, I dunno...” He collapsed into a nearby chair. “What are you doing?”
“We’re just tnghh - talking. Be right THERRRE...” Sana lost control of her voice as she orgasmed. Yejun clamped his free hand over her mouth as he massaged her throbbing clit. If not for the men holding onto her, she would have fallen over. The pleasure bolted through her and made her legs quiver. The audience was overwhelmed with lust from the display, and several hands were extended to cop a feel of her curves. Her hips bucked against Yejun’s firm touch as she silently came. She was on cloud nine, countless hands exploring her body while she ground her needy pussy through the pleasure. Someone eventually undid her skirt, which fell to the floor. She rode out the final waves of her orgasm in nothing but her g string thong.
When Sana had control of her body again, she peered through the large frames in front of her and saw that Minkyu was slumped over in the chair, seemingly passed out. She made a move to squeeze through the men and check on him, but they didn’t budge, and Yejun didn’t let go of her hips. “He’ll be fine, gorgeous. Just let him sleep it off while we take care of you.”
“But... I should at least-”
“Nope.” Yejun interrupted Sana by lifting her and draping her over his broad shoulder. “Save your breath, slut. You’re gonna need it.” He carried her towards the trailer, the rest of the group following closely behind. The parade of horny men passed the unconscious boyfriend, and piled into the shelter.
A few of the guys hurriedly rearranged the furniture, collapsing tables, and extending the sofa. Soon there was a large makeshift bed in the middle of the enclosure, surrounded by padded cushions. Yejun threw Sana down in the center of it, and the six red-blooded males closed in on their prey.
The young girlfriend felt completely helpless as strong hands grabbed at her from every angle. Yejun forcefully ripped her stringy thong from her and dove mouth-first into her juicy, swollen cunt. Sana squealed in delight as he tongued her pussy with fervor. She gazed up and witnessed a variety of stiff cocks springing free all around her. She had seen each of them the previous night, but they were distant and non-threatening. This time, however, she was closely surrounded by them, and they all pointed at her aggressively. Sana knew that every single one of their hard dicks was going to have a turn with her, whether she consented or not. It was definitely more than she bargained for, but the feeling of being utterly powerless to do anything to stop them drove her mad with lust.
“Oh fuck... Unghh... You guys are all so big...” The overwhelmed Sana cooed.
“You ever taken multiple cocks before, bitch?” One deep-voiced man asked, shoving his way to her face and stroking her soft cheek.
“N-no... hohhh... it’s so fucking hot...” She admitted shakily as Yejun assaulted her sensitive clit with his tongue. Sana could hardly believe what was happening. She’d been a sweet, faithful girlfriend for years, and within a matter of days had transformed into a cock-loving slut. A cheating whore who was about to let a group of strangers use her body for their pleasure. The depraved thought triggered an orgasm, and she squirmed around on the bed, moaning in ecstasy and squeezing Yejun’s head between her thighs.
The deep voice boomed at her, “Suck my dick, you slut.” He tapped his meaty erection against her lips, and she parted them, allowing him to drive it into her warm mouth. As Sana bathed the thick cock with her tongue, two other throbbing hardons were pressed against her cheeks. The horny men jabbed at her face, trying to get a turn in her wet mouth. She wrapped her fingers around each of them, and started pumping her fists as she focused on pleasuring the velvety skin poking the back of her throat.
Yejun rose to his knees on the bed and started rubbing his purple head along her dripping entrance. “Mmmmpff! Ohmm yes... Give me that big cock Yejun... Glrrmp...” Sana begged, pulling her mouth off of one dick and swallowing another. He grunted as he slipped into her folds and pushed forward as her clenching pussy swallowed him whole.
Sana moaned intensely through the rod in her mouth as Yejun began rhythmically fucking her. She could barely focus on attending to the three slick cocks looming over her as Yejun stretched her tight cunt. Her tits bounced in circles on her chest as he pounded into her again and again.
One man grabbed her jaw and turned her towards him, promptly filling her abused mouth again. He fucked her face harshly, pulling globs of saliva from her as he jerked in and out of her. The men waiting their turn anxiously groped the parts of her within their reach. One guy was rubbing his dick against her bare foot.
Sana closed her eyes and tried to relax, completely submitting and allowing the brutes to do whatever they wanted to her. She felt another strong orgasm building as the fat cocks pumped her mercilessly from both ends. The cheating girlfriend was completely smothered in hot men, their combined musky smells and animalistic grunts overwhelming her senses.
Without warning, the cock sliding in and out of her mouth jerked, and started slathering her taste buds with warm cum. She darted her tongue around, savoring the salty flavor and sensation of the pulsing meat. She gulped the man’s semen down noisily and her face was immediately stuffed with another needy dick.
“Fuuuuuck,” groaned the guy whose cum was still sliding down Sana’s throat. “That tight little mouth is perfect. I couldn’t hold back. Thanks for sharing, Yejun. How’s that little snatch feel?”
“You said it, Dave - perfection. I’m about to bust in her. Start flooding that little unprotected womb,” Yejun answered through heavy breaths. He was slamming into Sana with all his might now, lightly rocking the trailer back and forth.
“Unprotected? Dayum, that’s fucking hot. You ever been creampied, slut?” Dave asked her.
“No!” Sana barely managed to answer between moans. She had never had someone cum inside of her, but the thought of it seemed irresistible now.
“Hohoo... You our breeding bitch now... We’re gonna fill that little pussy up to the brim.”
“Ungh! Fuck yes! Cum wherever you want!” She shouted in encouragement right as Yejun tightly gripped her waist, holding her in place, and pressed himself fully against her, jabbing her cervix as his cock exploded deep within her. Sana could feel his warm semen splashing against her inner walls, and her cunt spasmed wildly. The cock in her mouth popped out as she thrashed around wildly, her pussy tightly milking the seed from Yejun’s dick.
“OHHH MYYYY FUUUUCKKKKK! I CAN FEEL ALL YOUR HOT CUM FILLING ME UP! UNNNGHH YESSSSS!” Sana screamed in pleasure as he released his massive load into her.
“Jesus, this whore is too damn sexy,” muttered one of the guys she had been sucking off. He jerked his dick over her and started shooting ropes onto her face and tits.
“UGH! GOD I FUCKING LOVE CUM!” Sana was beside herself, becoming the crazed slut they were all treating her like. If Minkyu had not been completely unconscious outside, he would have easily heard her depraved confession.
By the time the most recent finisher had coated her in his semen, Yejun was still soaking his softening cock in her completely filled pussy. He finally pulled out of her, and watched with great interest as his cum began dribbling out of her freshly fucked hole.
“I’ve waited long enough. Get on your hands and knees, bitch,” ordered Brad, who impatiently grabbed her thighs and roughly twisted her around. He positioned himself behind her and plunged right into her dripping cunt. Sana screamed in delight as he fucked her relentlessly, his balls loudly slapping against her clit.
Hours passed while the assault on Sana continued. Between the six, horny opportunists, there were no breaks for her, and at any given time she had a hard cock slamming into her pussy, mouth, or both. She was treated like a common whore, tossed around the room, and bent and folded every which way as they pummeled her. Her mind had gone numb, and she’d been reduced to a fuck doll to be used however they saw fit.
The heavy scent of sweat and cum was unmistakable in the cramped trailer, and Sana was covered in both. She lost count of how many creamy loads were shot into and on her, as well as how many times she had orgasmed.
After most of the men had finally passed out or hit their limits, Sana found herself on top of Yejun, lazily grinding his fat cock while they kissed each other.
“I can’t believe you’re still so hard...” she whispered to him.
“I’m honestly shocked you’re still going, too. I think I finally met my match,” he replied.
“Ugh... I just... can’t get enough... tonight has been fucking amaz-” She was interrupted by a series of quick knocks at the door.
“Sana!? Are you in there?” Minkyu had finally woken up.
“Minkyu! I - Yeah. I got really sick and have been in the bathroom,” she explained.
He pulled at the locked door a couple times. “Let me in!”
“Uh, no babe. I’m a disgusting mess right now. I don’t want you to see me like this - Unngh...” She had stopped moving her hips in her panic, so Yejun clutched her ass in his hands and did the work for her.
“Who cares, I’m a mess too. Just let me take care of you.” Her boyfriend was determined to get to her. It was obvious that he was still quite out of it himself.
“I’m gonna - fuuuck - throw up again. Please just go back to camp. Ohh... I’ll meet you there as soon as I’m done.” The cheating girlfriend was having trouble stifling her moans as Yejun steadily increased the intensity.
“Sana, that’s stupid! C’mon...”
Yejun put his hand over her mouth, and called out to the doorway, “Don’t worry dude, she’s better off finishing up in here with a proper bathroom and stuff. I’m taking good care of her.” He punctuated his last sentence with a stern thrust upwards into her pussy. “I’m making sure she gets plenty of fluids. Get some rest man. You don’t sound so great yourself.”
“Just let me in, Yejun.” Minkyu pleaded.
Yejun replied sternly, “Minkyu. People are trying to sleep and you’re becoming a nuisance. Listen to your girlfriend and go back to your tent.”
“Yeah, b-babe. Let me finish up - Ohhh fuck - I’ll be right there. I promise,” Sana insisted, losing control of her moaning, and hoping they would be mistaken for sickly sounds.
“Fucking bull shit...” Minkyu muttered, the sounds of his uneven steps trailing off away from the door.
“Maybe I should go...” Sana whispered, feeling guilty.
Yejun ceased his movements, abruptly pausing the stimulation they had both been enjoying. Instead of answering, he took a moment to look into her eyes, studying her silently. The conflicted Sana pondered, but her instincts took over, and she started grinding into him again.
“I knew you wouldn’t be able to stop,” Yejun said proudly.
“Just shut up and fuck me,” she demanded.
“Slut...” He teased.
“Asshole,” she fired back.
“You got all riled up again. You like almost getting caught, don’t you?”
“Ngh... Maybe...”
“You know, all he’d have to do is take a quick peek around to find the rest of your clothes on the ground out there.” Yejun grinned smugly, still sitting back and watching Sana squirm around on his lap.
“Oh fuck...”
“Even then he’d probably be clueless to the fact that his sweet girlfriend is secretly a big cock slut.”
“Hnngh...”
“Spending the whole night getting passed around like a rag doll and bred by a bunch Just mere feet away from him.”
“Fuck... Yejun...” His words were driving her crazy. She was grinding him as hard as she could, but she needed more.
“God, you’re a needy little bitch,” he laughed, smacking her ass.
“AH! I need you to fuck me so hard! Right now!”
“Like Minkyu never could?”
“Ngh... Please!”
“Say it!”
“YES! You already know you fuck me way better! Now just fucking do it!”
“Admit you’re a cheating slut.”
“I’m a cheating slut! Ughhh!”
“And who do you belon-”
“I belong to you, Yejun! I’m yours! You’re better in every way! Now just please, for the love of God, fuck my slutty, little pussy!” Sana spouted everything she thought he wanted to hear, and it finally satisfied him. Yejun lifted the already impaled woman into the air, and slammed her back into the nearest wall with a crash. She could only hang onto him for dear life as he thrust into her like a caged beast.
The trailer shook back and forth wildly as Yejun gave her everything he had. Sana’s legs flailed helplessly in the air as she was smashed repeatedly against the enclosure. “YES! YES! OHHH FUUUUCK!” She screamed for him over and over, the thoughtless words being pumped out of her with each harsh jab at her cervix. Her body was electrified with immense pleasure, and her cunt was drenching Yejun’s cock with thick cream.
“I’M... GONNA... FUCKING... CUM... SO... HARD!” She squealed as her climax crashed down on her. Yejun didn’t miss a beat, and continued to pound away at her through her mind-numbing orgasm. Her pussy sprayed clear liquid violently, coating his thrusting lower half in her juices. Still, he did not let up, and she continued to cum for longer than she thought was possible. Sana felt as if she might black out, her vision blurring as he overwhelmed her.
With one last mighty thrust, Yejun bottomed out and his cock exploded. He groaned as he flooded her deepest depths with his virile seed. As he emptied the last of his balls into her, his legs began to tremble from his exertion. They both fell backwards onto the bed together, a sweaty, twisted heap of flesh. Beyond exhausted, the pair lay there in a daze, breathing heavily. His semi-hard dick still planted deep within her, they eventually dozed off.
Sana’s eyes opened abruptly a few hours later to the sound of aggressive knocking at the trailer door. She cursed under her breath as she regained consciousness in the midst of the depraved aftermath around her. Her naked body was draped over Yejun’s, who was still asleep. She peeled her sticky skin from his, and rose to her feet. The room was an absolute mess, evidence of the brutal gangbang wherever she looked.
“Sana? I know you’re in there. Just come out and talk to me... please,” Minkyu said from outside.
“Give me a minute, babe. I must’ve passed out on the toilet...” She looked around frantically for an idea of how to make herself half-way decent. She heard him sigh heavily as she scrambled to the bathroom, careful to not step on one of the several naked men sprawled out on the floor. Sana felt a surge of relief to find that her clothes were in a neat pile near the sink. She hastily splashed her face with water and pulled her clothes on over her soiled skin. She grabbed a towel and draped it over her shoulders in an attempt to conceal more of her body, before heading towards the door.
Sana slowly opened the door and slipped outside into the bright desert, careful not to reveal a single square-inch of the interior. Minkyu stood at the foot of the steps, looking beyond disappointed.
“I’m so sorry, Minkyu...” She said, throwing her arms around him in a tight embrace.
“Are you okay? You look horrific,” he asked, clutching her shoulders with extended arms and inspecting her.
“I’m alright now... I don’t remember much, aside from hugging the damn toilet all night,” she lied.
“Aw, me neither... I can’t believe how drunk we both got. I was so out of it.”
“Yeah...” Sana was eager to hear how much detail her boyfriend could recall, before needlessly trying to cover things up.
“I do remember being super pissed that you were locked in there. And that you guys wouldn’t let me in. They could’ve done really bad things to you, you know?”
“You’re right, babe...” Images of the wild orgy flashed through her mind. “That was not safe. I couldn’t think straight, and just wanted to be left alone. Luckily, no one laid a finger one me. I know they can be jerks, but those guys treated me very well and took care of all my needs.”
“Well that’s a relief. I just wish I could’ve been the one to take care of you...” Minkyu seemed convinced already that nothing unsavory had happened.
“I know. I wish you had been there too. I guess we both let a night of free drinks get a little out of control.” Sana felt she was finally in the clear, and could relax a bit.
“Seriously... crazy night. Did I do a body shot from your tits?” He asked, smiling.
She laughed. “I think so, yeah. That was... interesting.”
“I guess we both got to show off a little, then. The guys were probably so jealous that I got to lick your boobs and stuff,” he said proudly.
Sana couldn’t help but laugh again at the irony. “Oh, I’m sure they were. I gotta admit, it was pretty fun being basically topless for everyone. Thanks for being okay with that.” She decided to reveal a small shred of truth about her feelings, as it felt natural in that moment.
“No problem. I suppose I’m learning to be less controlling. Trying anyway. I trust you, and you deserve to cut loose and flaunt your sexy side a bit under the right circumstances.”
“Thanks babe. That’s very mature of you.” Sana could hardly believe how well the exchange was progressing.
The reunited couple turned towards the trailer in unison as the door creaked open. Yejun, shirtless as usual, stepped towards them with a wide smile.
“Hey, big guy! Sorry about last night. I think we all got more toasted than we meant to. Glad Sana’s okay. I stayed up as late as I could to make sure she was still breathing. No hard feelings?” He extended a hand towards Minkyu, who shook it without hesitation.
“No worries, man. My bad for getting all... shitty... towards you. I was just concerned about her. Anyway, thanks for looking out for her.”
“Happy to do it. It was a damn fun night overall. You guys are welcome to party with us any time. We’ll be heading out soon, so feel free to move your stuff and claim the spot for yourselves.”
“Thanks, Yejun,” Minkyu said.
Yejun started back up the steps, and then added, “Oh! Sana, I think you left something of yours in the bathroom.”
“Oh woops. Be right back, babe.” Sana climbed up the steps and hurried inside behind him.
The second they were out of Minkyu’s line of sight, Yejun grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him. He held her tightly in his strong arms as they kissed ferociously. Their hands clawed at each other’s bodies as their tongues swirled together. Sana wrapped a leg around him, and broke the kiss, staring into his blue eyes.
“Will I ever see you again?” She whispered.
“Of course, you will.” He stuffed a small strip of paper into her cleavage, and pecked her with his lips on her soft chest and up the length of her neck. He let go of her finally and patted her ass. “Till next time. Don’t forget what you are.”
“Your slut.” Sana smiled at Yejun one last time, before exiting the trailer and joining her boyfriend.
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codnasties · 11 days ago
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141 mechanic shop. 👻🧼🧢🚬 (🌽 link)
your car breaks down in a town in the middle of nowhere and it needs fixing asap so you can resume your trip. good thing that the closes town has a trusty mechanic shop ;)
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price 🚬- the tow truck driver
price is the tow truck driver, responding to a call about a car that suddenly stopper running in the middle of a highway. much to his surprise, when he pulls up on site, he sees you. pretty little thing, distressed about the state of your car. he doesn't know what it is - maybe loneliness hitting him, the tears in your eyes or your sweet body and face - but it awakes something in him.
he's unable to keep his eyes out of your body, soft legs shining under the blazzing summer sum, as he's winching your car onto the truck. he find himself oogling a bit too much and too hard for it to be considered genletmanly. the minutes spent driving, your delightful perfume filling the space, taking you to the shop, he had to figh the urge of touching you. hands tingling with need to see if your sking is as soft as it looks - and also get to know if that pussy is as delicious as he's imaging -. but he won't do that.
he will settle for a cheeky wank in a hidden part of the parking lot in the shop, his hand running up and down his aching cock at a fast speed at the thought of a body that won't be leaving his mind any time soon.
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ghost 👻- the mechanic
ghost in one of the two mechanics the shop has. while soap is working on fixing your car as fast as he can so you can resume your journey, ghost sees your tear-streaked face and decides to chat you up, offer you some kind of comfort - or at the very least, a way of getting your mind away from your problem and how hard it's going to hit your finances -.
but with a man this hot - and mysterious, rugged and slighty dirty -, simple chatting soon turns into flirting, subtle touches to get closer to him and feel how hard are those muscles hiddind under his clothes. one thing leads to another and then this scary man ends up fucking you. making you take a seat in one of the stools they have in the shop, you ass pushed out to give him aceess to your needy holes. his cock deep inside your ass as your car gets fixed. plucked hole stretched around the leaking mess his thick cock is. the moans he's pulling out of you reverberating all over the shop. and the way he's going to make sure to fill your ass nicely with his cum, just a little souvenir so you remember him ;)
if you ask me, i would say this is peak customer service, and the perfect way of keeping the customer happy and entertained
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soap 🧼- the other mechanic
soap in the other mechanic, the one actually doing his job and working on your car - no shade being thrown here -. but when some pretty lasses' sweet sounds reach his ears, he pushed himself from underneath the car only to get the perfect view of you, getting fucked by ghost. tits on full display for him, mouth hanging open and eyes rolling back with each and every one of simon's thrusts.
just from your whines and moans he was already half chubbed up, but that view did it for him. he couldn't stop his cock from getting fully hard. he already didn't have a shirt on - blame it on the heat or this man loving to show off -, so it was easy to pull his pants off in one swift motion - no underpants, very on brand -. his dick hitting his stomach as it gets feed from it confines. he's supposed to be working in fixing your car but god... can't concentrate with a boner, can't he? his hand, covered in grease, wrapping around his meaty shaft, slowly stoking up and down, rubbing one out until he cums all over himself to you getting your ass fucked.
he really wished it was his cock fucking you, or that he could step in and join ghost, but he knows if he does that he's either going to get reprimanded or hit for interrumptng
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gaz 🧢- the admin
gaz is the admin, he does all the paperwork. he was the one that picked up the call, heard you though your stressed out half sobbed words and reassured you that whatever was going on with your car could be fixed. he's also the last one you get to interact with in the shop, becasue he sorts out your documents and the one you have to pay an obnoxiously high price to for the work done on your car.
good thing that this pretty admin guy, clad in some dress pants and a shirt that pulled taut around his bulging arms, is willing to bargain with you, finding a way to lower your price - or even going as far as paying for you, since you've been such a good motivation to all the shop workers -. but getting rid of your little debt to them does not mean he's doind it for free. maybe a little hand with the problem that boner in his slacks is. he's been watching the havoc you've been causing on the floor though the security cameras. can't blame him. your puffy lips from trying to bite back your moans earliers now enveloping his mushroom tip.
but he's a hungry fucker, so just your mouth isn't enough. so why not let him have a taste of that neglected soaking wet pussy, dripping with both your own arousal and ghost's cum that keeps uncontrolably dripping out?
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reddtulips · 16 days ago
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something something ghoap staying at johnny’s family farm that’s less than two hours away from glasgow.
they barely reach the damn place because simon insists on driving and takes a wrong exit on the highway and johnny has to piss a hundred times during the drive.
the air is crisp and cold and frosts the tips of their noses and simon forces indifference when johnny’s fingers brush simon’s to hold the duffel bag so he can close the trunk of the car.
johnny knocks on the front door and his mother rips it open, hugging his son and without a second to think, hugs simon as well and ushers them inside.
johnny’s father is a simple man and gives simon a firm handshake and a pat on his back and shows him the dining room, a feast set on the table and every salad under the sun overflowing in hand painted bowls that johnny’s mother made when she did pottery ten years ago.
johnny’s sisters are there, his niece and nephews as well, all children and simon sweats thinking how in the hell he is supposed to talk to them. are the boys at the appropriate age to know about guns and knives? or do they look at encyclopedias of greek mythology and dinosaurs? does the niece like barbie and dress up? or is she one of those girls that like to collect bugs and draw hopscotch on the pavement with colorful chalk and wipe the excess from her fingers onto her pants?
they watch him with eager eyes and giggles smothered behind tiny hands, and watch in awe when he lifts his balaclava to expose his mouth so he can eat.
johnny does the talking at the table and simon can’t understand a fucking word he’s saying because he’s gone full scottish with his family, only hums and nods occasionally. he wolfs down every piece of food, the human trashcan that he is (and because he doesn’t remember the last time he had a home-cooked meal), and nearly combusts for a second time that day as johnny’s mam places a plate with a thick slice of apple pie in front of him, vanilla ice cream melting over it and puts a hand on his shoulder, “johnny told me ye have a sweet tooth, so i made it especially for ye.”
simon who does silent breathing exercises so he doesn’t cry because he misses this so fucking much. to sit down with a family and enjoy a meal together with loved ones and not fight, nor scream nor yell nor cry nor throw food nor break plates and it’s just laughter upon laughter upon claps on the shoulders and clutching at arms and pulling each other into side hugs and light jabs that mean nothing and don’t break into full blown fights and simon thinks he’s going to vomit.
simon who gets to see johnny’s childhood bedroom. it’s decorated in superhero posters and hanging medals and trophies from gymnastics and competitive shooting competitions. johnny turns sheepish when simon points them out, teases him and likes and fears the swirl of warmth in his chest when johnny’s ears and neck turn red. he’s told “still a better shot than you,” and if johnny were anyone else, he’s be given toilet cleaning duties for the next three months.
simon who wants to pull out and empty every drawer, check every nook and cranny and learn and suck in every single piece of information and story there is about johnny and what — there’s pictures of you as a kid? with a mohawk? fuck off, soap, lemme see.
johnny opens the left door of his wardrobe and it’s covered in baby pictures of him and his family and simon’s chest tightens but he doesn’t break his gaze. Lo and behold, Johnny points out a picture on top and holy shit, it’s him holding a fat, orange cat the size of half his body and he’s sporting a long mohawk. His cheeks are stained with tears but there’s a forced grin on his face and blood on his chin. johnny explains it was his 7th birthday, he fell off a swing, hit his chin and his mam still wanted a photo. the cat’s named ‘fergus’ and he’s still alive and has lost most of the weight. he explains more photos but simon’s eyes keep coming back to the first one and he just wants to lean down and leave a gentle kiss on the scar covering johnny’s chin.
the kids don’t leave simon alone, as much as uncle johnny protests and tells them to get tae and let ‘em rest, he’s been drivin’ all mornin’ but watches them from the kitchen with a soft smile as simon walks around with the kids hanging and clutching at his strong arms like they’re monkeys and simon can’t get enough of their giggles and ooh’s and ahh’s when he tells them heroic and child-friendly war stories about their uncle. he also tells them that he sucks ass at taking orders and sharing his MREs and that they should listen to their parents and respect their elders and share with each other. johnny smothers a grin behind his hand as simon uses his lieutenant’s voice when speaking to the kids about these things.
johnny steals simon away then, “gotta show ‘em the horses”, and simon keeps his distance and doesn’t dare get up on one of them. the cockiest, “scared, Lt.?” with a shit-eating grin from johnny makes him grab the reigns and climb on. johnny leads the horse down the field and they fall into a comfortable silence. simon can’t get enough of the peace and quiet and chirping of birds and gentle yet chilly breeze on his hands and johnny is suddenly coming to a halt.
simon looks down at his sergeant, and his cheeks are flushed red and there’s determination and well-masked hesitation in his blue eyes and before simon knows it, he’s being pulled down by the sleeve of his jacket and johnny is cupping the sides of his face and pressing a gentle kiss over the material of simon’s mask. it’s innocent, quick, almost like it doesn’t even happen and isn’t registered. but their gazes meet when they part and it’s over for both of them because simon is fervently pushing his mask up and cupping johnny’s cheeks and they’re both leaning forward again and pressing kiss upon kiss upon kiss on each other’s lips and simon finally thinks,
i’ve found it. i’ve found home.
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rainrot4me · 8 months ago
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Keep It Rolling
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Summary: You and your friend decide to see if you can find ghosts in an abandoned asylum as you record the whole thing. When you run into Hoodie, he thinks it’d be fun to record you instead.
Characters: Hoodie x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Recording sex, bad blowjob, vaginal, threatening with a gun, pussy slapping, size difference, forcing, gagging, stretching, cream pie, size difference
Words: 3.9k
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You spent your whole life filming everything. 
It didn’t matter what. Eating breakfast, going to the store, hanging with friends, everything was caught on your little camcorder. You had an internet personality to keep up with and feeding your viewers your personal life was a hefty job. But you loved it. 
So, of course, when your best friend messaged you about some supposedly haunted mental asylum twenty minutes off the interstate, you had to get it on camera. 
The mid-autumn breeze blew through your hair as you and your friend packed your filming equipment into the back of your car, shutting the trunk before climbing into the driver's seat. The asylum wasn’t even an hour away. But as you sped down the interstate, it was like the whole atmosphere had changed. The clouds were dark, the wind blew leaves from the trees, and this ominous darkness loomed around you. 
“Where did these rain clouds come from?” Your friend mumbled, scrolling through her phone and checking the weather which didn’t offer many answers. Brushing it off, you turned down an overgrown dirt road off the highway and searched for the building. If it did start raining, there was no way you were getting your camera out of the car. And if there was no camera, there was no reason for you to go inside. But as you drove further, an overgrown sign dangled on the side of the path. ‘State Asylum for the Mentally Insane.’ Charming. It was much farther after that that you could see the run-down building come into view, boarded up windows and patches of wall missing. The decorations of the building had all but disintegrated, but the foundation and skeleton of the building still stood strong minus the crumbling sections of walls. You pulled the car as close to the end of the path as you could before the overgrown plants stopped your path. Shutting the engine off, you sat and stared at the rolling clouds swarming overhead, judging if this was a good idea or not. Obviously, you knew it wasn’t.
“Shit, whole things coming down. Wonder how much longer it's got till it completely crumbles.” Your friends laughed, hopping out of the car and opening the trunk, slinging a bag full of voice recorders over her shoulder. “I hope we don’t find out.” You joked back, sliding to the back and grabbing your camera and backpack full of batteries and hard drives. The wind howled through the building, an eerie whistling noise echoing off the decaying walls that were visible from the outside. If you couldn’t find anything haunted in there, at least you’d get some good aesthetic shots. “I say we make a lap through the building and see if we can find any particular room that feels right to set up in. Y’know, see if it feels haunted.” They laughed, slamming the trunk shut and sauntering towards the entrance, a large dark door with shattered lanterns on either side. You flipped open your camera lens, filming a good shot of your friend shoving the door open and peeking inside. You quickly followed behind, skipping up the steps and peeking inside yourself.
The entrance was dark, furniture and paintings rusted with age and tossed around on the ground. Leaves and cobwebs accented the space, giving just the right amount of old and creepy as you filmed you both entering. The wind howled through the halls as you scanned each room, discovering abandoned medical supplies, facility rooms, and rows and rows of medical beds. All of it was caught on film, the dim lighting giving just the perfect balance with the soft glow of your flashlight. This had to get you views.
When you and your friend finally decided on a spot, a recreation room fit with a stage and tables, you set your audio recorders on the tables, little blinking lights illuminating the room as you pointed the camera. Your friend pulled out their flashlight, laying it on the table and flicking it on. You angled the lens, catching their face in the glow as they began to ask questions, the eerie quietness echoing their voice. “If there are any spirits here who are wishing to make themselves known, please do so now.” Silence. Besides the settling of the old floorboards, there wasn’t a movement or sound to be made. They tried again. “We’re here to do nothing more than talk. Please don’t be afraid to communicate.” Nothing again. You were growing impatient, switching your camera between your friend and the dormant recording devices, no lights signaling activity was being captured. Your friend groaned, holding out for maybe just some noise but ultimately flipping off the flashlight and scooping the recording equipment back into their bag. “Maybe we just picked a bad room. I want to try something though.” You flipped your camera shut, breathing deep and smelling nothing but mould and concrete. “And?” 
They shuffled the bag onto their shoulder, shining their flashlight around the disheveled room. “I saw on some ghost channel they split up and went to opposite ends of their hospital and got a lot of activity. Apparently, ghosts like it when you’re alone.” They smiled, shuffling back to the hallway. “Sounds good to me,” It didn’t, but who were you to say no to some good content? “Walk to opposite ends of the building and meet back in thirty minutes?” You both nodded, turning away from each other as you trudged your way to the farthest end of the asylum. 
You felt like you had walked forever, stepping down two flights of stairs until you ended up in what you assumed to be the basement. Random trash and unorganized medical equipment littered the floor but it was charming in a way, like the place was a relic of what it used to be. The damp air surrounded you, every step echoing off the concrete walls and recording beautifully as you flipped on your camera. Cobwebs hung in every corner, more afraid of running into one than running into an actual ghost, but content was content.
You set your camera on the ground, shining your flashlight at your face as you crisscrossed in front of the lens. The hall was silent, the dark corners sending chills up your spine as you couldn’t see past where your flashlight glow went. You settled yourself, breathing deeply before calling into the darkness. “If there are any spirits here who would like to communicate, please make yourself known.” Silence. The rhythmic dripping of water from the pipes offered some relief as you listened closely, but ultimately heard nothing. You sighed, trying again. “I am only here to talk. Please make yourself known.” Nothing still. It was relieving, sort of, praying internally that you’d find nothing as you stared into the camera’s lens. Shaking your head, you gave it one final attempt before you’d decide to head back upstairs. “If any spirits wa-” 
That was when you heard it. The loud thud echoed from down the dark hallway. Fear shot through you, quickly aiming your flashlight but seeing nothing that could have made the noise. “Hello..?” You called, picking your camera up and directing it the same way. There was no response. But as you went to stand, a very clear sound of someone clearing their throat echoed. You scrambled to your feet, realizing this wasn’t going to be paranormal, but some squatter you’d accidentally run up on. Your hands were shaking but relentlessly keeping the camera trained on the hall, staring intently for any sign of motion. Deciding not to press your luck further, you quietly stepped towards the stairs, barely reaching the railing before you saw it. The tall figure of a man resting his shoulder on the wall beside you and staring straight at you. 
A scream bubbled in your throat, panic building before he was on you in a second, his large hands shoving his over your mouth and holding your head still. You gripped your equipment tightly, panicking desperately as you tried to wiggle your way out of his grasp. That all stopped as soon as you felt the gunhead press against your ribs, nudging you to be compliant. “One word and I shoot.” He huffed, his deep voice reverberating against the walls. That’s when you could see him in the glow of your flashlight. He wore a ski mask that covered every feature of his face, but had a weird face drawn on. Tears rolled down your cheeks, realizing what a heap of trouble you were in. Whining, the man released your mouth but nudged the gun deeper into your rib, forcing you to the wall behind you. His gruff demeanor shakes you. “Explain yourself. Now.” He commanded, shoving the hilt further up. You panicked, quickly answering. “Uh- My f-friend and I came to see if we c- could find ghosts. I was making, uh, a video.” You cringed, holding the camera up as it was still rolling, capturing everything that had happened so far. The man jerked the camera out of your hand, examining it before tossing it to the floor, a whine escaping you as you watched it skid against the concrete. He leaned in close to your face, his breathing mumbled by the mask. “No ghosts, huh?” He towered over you, his large frame encapsulating you easily. You shook your head awkwardly, gulping as he pulled the gun from your side but quickly repositioned it under your chin, nudging it forcefully. “Sorry sweetheart, but I’m afraid this is as far as you’ll get.” He cocked the trigger, the noise sending a full-blown panic through you as you gripped his arm. “Please! Please- oh, God, I’ll do anything,” You huffed, tears pouring heavily. “Anything you want. Money, your dick sucked, food, anything!” You pleaded, face growing red as you shook with fear. 
The man leaned back, pulling his finger off the trigger as he chuckled. “What was that second thing?” He smirked, resting his hand on his hip but not letting that gunhead leave your chin. You blushed roughly, your words betraying you as you just word-vomited something to save yourself. “I said anything.” You huffed, gritting your teeth as you felt the cold metal leave your skin, sighing deeply. 
The man holstered his gun in the back of his jeans, sauntering over to your camera on the ground and scooping it up. He wiped it off, flipping the screen open before pointing it at you. You blushed, feeling awkward on the other side of the lens for once. He chuckled, stepping closer to you as he moved the camera to the side, staring at you directly. “Well?” He grinned, focusing his gaze back on the camera screen that captured your red face, the flash accentuating your features. His mask concealed his expression making you unsure if he was being serious or not, but you didn’t want to test those waters knowing full well he had a gun.
You awkwardly knelt in front of him, the concrete wall behind you cramping you. The truth was, you had no clue what you were doing. No boyfriends made their way around to lay you, so whatever you were about to pull out of your ass: your life literally depended on it. 
You fiddled with his belt, sliding it open before nervously pulling the zipper of his jeans down. He wasn’t even half-hard in his boxers. You palmed at the bulge awkwardly, glancing up as the camera stared at you, his face peeking behind and watching you closely. Growing in your hand, you tucked your fingers under his boxers and tugged them down, his large cock barely bobbing out. It was awkward, but you took the length in your hands and slowly began to stroke, feeling it harden slowly. This was good. Nervousness pricked at your stomach as you licked at the tip. You slowly pressed the now hard length into your mouth, getting as deep as you could before pulling back. Slobber coated the length, gleaming in the flash of the camera. You leaned back in, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock and taking the rest of what you could in your mouth. It wasn’t good and you knew it. Your teeth constantly scraped against his length. Not to mention any time the tip passed your tongue you were gagging back off of it.
He was growing impatient, the half-assed attempt at head making his head hurt. You felt his hand slink up the back of your head and grip a handful of your hair, slowly guiding your head back onto his cock. “Open wide.” He commanded, holding the camera lower to get a good shot. You hung your jaw lower, gripping his jeans quickly as you felt him press into your mouth further than you knew you could take. You gagged, straining to pull your head back but he wouldn’t let you, he just kept pushing your head further. You slammed your eyes shut, tears pricking as you wrapped your lips around the thick cock deep in your mouth. He finally pulled your head back, giving you a second to breathe before you snapped his hips back into your mouth quickly. You whined, throat choking as he thrust your head on his cock quickly. He held your hair tightly as he forced himself down your throat, practically face-fucking you and not giving you a second to adjust. 
“Damn, you got a mouth on you, huh?” He huffed, shoving the camera closer to your mouth wrapping around him tightly. You groaned, eyes rolling as you gagged each time his cock pressed against the back of your throat. It was loud and vulgar, the wet sounds echoing off the walls. He refused to let up though, groaning as he held your head back. “There you go. Keep that throat open, sweetheart.” He moaned deeply, pressing your head flush against him but not pulling away. You began to panic, gripping at his jeans as you choked, no air reaching you. He chuckled, cock throbbing in your mouth at the sound of drool gurgling in your throat. He finally pulled you off his length, a loud gasp escaping you as air filled your lungs. He pulled your hair back making you stare at the camera, your flushed face and slobber-covered lips shining brightly against the flash. “God…” He let go of your hair, pumping his cock into his hand before kneeling at your level. “Yeah, I’m not done with you.” He grinned, gripping your legs pulling them out from under you and landing you on your back. He crawled over you, nudging himself between your legs as he tugged at your shirt until it bunched above your bra. He hooked his fingers under the cups, pushing them up and exposing your tits. Hands were on them in a second, massaging and pulling at the mounds. 
Your whines echoed as he pinched your nipples, pulling them roughly and kneading the buds in between his fingers. “You’ve got such a nice body sweetheart. I can’t wait to ruin it.” He scaled the camera across your body and shot your curves well. It was incredibly embarrassing. 
He pulled his hands off your nipples, leaning back to set the camera on the ground and angle it between your legs, getting a good shot of your crotch. If anything, you were impressed with his familiarity with a camera. But the other half of you cringed as he unbuttoned your pants and slid them off your legs, giving the camera a clear shot of your damp panties. His fingers rubbed at the spot, his thumb pressing roughly against your clit and making you squirm. You reached down quickly, grabbing his wrist. That wasn’t going to happen. He immediately grabbed your wrists in return, pinning your hands above your head and relishing the way your body arched in defiance. “Calm down, huh? Relax…” He grinned, sliding your panties off your hips with his right hand and sliding his fingers up your folds, collecting your arousal. Pressing your legs open, he spread your folds the same, the cold air making your clit twitch. “Such a pretty cunt…” He groaned, spreading your lips and spitting against your hole, making you squirm.
He rubbed his fingers against your entrance, circling the area as you arched your back, silently begging for him to slide them in. That was when you saw his hand reach back and quickly slap down on your cunt, a sharp sting hitting you. You gasped, his hand slapping you again before you could even say anything. His palm continued to connect with your cunt, rubbing the area roughly before bringing his hand back to slap down again. You were a whining mess, every sting and slap making you so much wetter. The squelching sounds your cunt made every time his palm reached was embarrassing, your moans mixing and creating an insanely lewd noise. “God! Please…” You whined, squeezing your knees closer and trapping his hand against your cunt. He chuckled, giving in and pressing his fingers into your soaked entrance, a loud squelch echoing. You groaned, his fingers reaching deeply inside of you and curling just the right way. When he began to pump his fingers, it was all you could do not to scream your pleasure. Your throbbing clit ached as his fingers curled against your walls, each curl causing them to clench down. His thick fingers worked you open, your squirming body being easily held down by his muscled arms. Your orgasm came incredibly fast, your walls tightening around his fingers as they stretched your entrance wide and became soaked with your ecstasy. 
He pulled his fingers out sharply and brought them to the hem of his mask as he slid it up just above his nose. He licked his fingers of your arousal, smiling at you as he took them down to the knuckle. Your eyes frantically glanced at the camera lens, the flash blinding you as you begged the battery would magically die and none of this would be recorded. No luck. “Damn sweetheart, you think that cunt’s ready for me yet?” He grinned, pulling his mask back down and wrapping his hands around your ankles, pulling you quickly to rest your thighs on top of his. His cock was twitching and angry, the head pulsing as he pumped it in his hands. He let it rest on your tummy. You glance down, head spinning as you realize just how big he is. “Oh, I’m gonna be in there.” He chuckled, releasing your wrists to scoop his hands under your hips and angle them up. He nudged the head of his cock against your entrance, leaning down to meet his face with your as he breathed deeply. “Try to not scream, yeah?” 
Before you could question why, he slammed your hips down onto his length. The rough stretch and sting of him entering you so abruptly made you cry out, tears leaking down your cheeks. He didn’t wait. Either because he couldn’t or because he didn’t care. His hips snapped into you quickly, fingers digging into your bare hips as he forced your hips to connect with his. “Shit-” He was grunting with every thrust, heavily breathing behind the mask. Your moans and cries matched his, every nudge of his cock against your walls making your back arch and jaw hang open. It was dizzying. He was perched on his knees, holding your hips off the ground and fucking into you like some fleshlight. 
Every tug at his hands and pull at his jacket went unnoticed as you clawed against him, trying your hardest to find some stability as your body was being rammed against. Your cunt throbbed with every squelch and slap, your walls constricting around the thick length invading inside of you. The camera caught it all, angled perfectly to see every inch of his cock sink into your cunt as he thrust quickly. It caught every lewd moan, every slap of skin. The tears were rolling down your cheeks, the sting and stretch of him mixing with the absolute pleasure slamming into you. “Fuck, so tight. Gonna milk me dry, sweetheart.” He huffed, repositioning for a split second before angling his hips up to ram into your g-spot. You screamed out, hand reaching for your clit as you rubbed in pace with his thrusts up into you.
That’s when he grabbed the camera, angling it down directly at your cunt as he sunk into you quickly. “Cum on my cock. Yeah, let me see it.” He moaned, shoving your hand out of the way to press his own fingers against your clit, rubbing quick and rough. You slapped your hands over your face, eyes rolling as you felt your orgasm rushing against you. The masked man was moaning louder, little whines escaping his lips as his own pace became sloppy. “Cum all over me, sweetheart.” He groaned. It sent you over, waves of pleasure crashing into you quickly as he refused to let off of your clit. You screamed out, arching your back against his fingers as he rubbed your orgasm out. Walls around his cock constricted, milking him as he held the camera close, the flash catching every drop of sweat and arousal that mixed on you. He bottomed out against you, moaning loudly as he released deep into your cunt. 
The room went quiet apart from your panting. The camera caught it all, each pulse of his cock as he filled you full, your hands gripping tightly against his wrist as he held his thumb over your clit. He slowly pulled out, hissing as you felt the stretch of him. When his head popped out, he moved the camera down, catching every second as his seed leaked out of you. “Did so good sweetheart. Took me so good.” He huffed, sliding his fingers through your folds and spreading his release across your cunt, making you squirm. He pressed his fingers into your swallowed entrance, pressing his seed back in. When he pulled them out, he flipped the camera shut, turning the flash off and setting it back on the ground. 
Finding your panties, he slid them back on you and relished as he watched them soak darker. He helped you button your pants back, pulling your shirt down and helping you stand. Handing you the camera, he laughed at your hazy expression, your heavy eyes and swollen cheeks evident of your fucked out cunt. “Thanks, sweetheart, now run along before I change my mind.” He huffed, turning back to the dark hallway and waving you off. “Good luck with your ghosts.” You nodded, frantically turning back to the steps and rushing up to the fresh air. It hadn’t been long, but as you listened closely and heard the sound of heavy rain, you trudged to the other side of the asylum and found your friend just as hopeless as you left them.
“Did you find anything? I had a whole lot of nothing.” They sighed, leading you to the entrance and out to the car as you tried to hide your equipment from the rain. “Nah. Nothing interesting.” You sighed, climbing into the driver's seat and speeding off back down the dirt path. 
When you eventually made it home, you sprinted to your laptop and shoved the SD card in, loading up the video. Your hand covered your mouth as you watched the scene unfold, arousal growing in your pants again as you felt the leak of the masked man’s seed against your folds. 
The video played through, every squelch and moan sending shivers through you as your hand slid down between your legs, rubbing lazily as you rewatched his cock sink inside of you. 
You’d have to go ghost hunting more often.
Comments are reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
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gilbertscurls · 2 months ago
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trading places — matt sturniolo
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summary: matt gets tired during a roadtrip.
The highway stretched endlessly ahead, the sun hanging low in the sky, casting a golden hue over everything. You sat in the passenger seat, legs tucked beneath yourself, idly scrolling through your playlist. Nick and Chris were in the back, laughing about something, as they always did, their voices blending with the music playing softly in the background. The car hummed along, its gentle rhythm almost lulling you to sleep.
But then, you glanced over at Matt.
His eyes were focused on the road, but they seemed heavy, the dark circles under them more prominent now in the fading light. Every so often, his hand would flex on the steering wheel, his grip tightening, trying to stay alert.
“Hey,” you said softly, nudging his arm. “You good?”
Matt gave you a quick smile, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tired, but we’re almost there.”
You weren’t convinced. You could see the fatigue in the way his shoulders slumped, how his blinks lasted just a little too long. The trip had been fun so far—hours of laughter and road trip banter with his brothers—but it was clear Matt had taken on more than his share by driving the whole way.
“You look exhausted,” you pointed out, your tone gentle but firm. “How about I take over for a bit?”
Nick and Chris paused their conversation at that, both looking toward the front.
Nick chimed in, half-joking, “You offering to drive? Because, uh, I’d love to see that.”
You rolled your eyes but kept your attention on Matt. “Yes, I’m offering. You guys can’t drive,” you added, turning back to shoot a look at Nick and Chris, “since none of you bothered to get your licenses.”
Chris grinned. “Hey, we just like being chauffeured around by Matt.”
“Yeah, real helpful,” Matt muttered under his breath, his grip tightening on the wheel again. You could see the strain in him now, the long hours of being behind the wheel wearing him down.
“Matt, pull over,” you insisted, your voice soft but leaving no room for argument. “You’re too tired. I’ll drive the rest of the way.”
For a moment, Matt hesitated. He wasn’t one to give up control easily, and you knew that. But his eyes flicked over to yours, catching the concern written all over your face, and something in him relented.
“Alright,” he sighed, signaling to pull off at the nearest rest stop. “But if anything happens to my car—”
“Nothing’s going to happen to your car,” you interrupted, already unbuckling your seatbelt. “I’ve got this.”
Once you swapped places, Matt moved to the passenger seat, reclining the seat almost immediately. You glanced over at him as you adjusted the mirrors, seeing the way his eyes were already half-closed. He was barely holding on.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, his voice low and sleepy. “I owe you one.”
“Just rest,” you said, your heart softening at how drained he looked. “You’ve earned it.”
Matt closed his eyes, and within moments, he was out cold. You smiled to yourself, turning your attention back to the road. From the backseat, Nick and Chris had resumed their banter, but their words faded into the background as you focused on driving. The car felt different with you at the wheel, but in a good way—you were in control now, and Matt could finally rest.
As the miles passed, the sky darkened, stars dotting the horizon. Every so often, you would glance over at Matt, peaceful in his sleep. It was moments like this that reminded you how much he took on for his brothers, always the one to shoulder the responsibility, even when it wore him down.
And, you realized with a quiet smile, you didn’t mind stepping up for him when he needed it most.
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tag list: @stuwniolo, @sturnobsessedwh0re, @matts-myloverboy, @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut, @lizzymacdonald06, @asherrisrandom, @sturniolowhore69, @faith5drpepper, @emely9274, @psychologyloverfr, @lovetaylorrussellgrr, @conspiracy-ash, @helpimateenagerinlove, @ghostlythinggoingaround, @sturmatt, @chris-hallelujah, @goingtojohnkramershouseee, @wurlibydominicfike, @straw8berry
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cheriecoke · 2 months ago
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˚₊‧꒰ა ONCE BITTEN, TWICE SHY — levi ackerman
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𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎. your car breaks down before you can make it home for christmas. it leaves you with no choice but to call your ex-boyfriend.
𝒸𝑜𝓃𝓉𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓈. fluff, sfw, gn!reader, exes, christmas, light angst, second chance romance, soft!levi, modern au — 3.3k words
𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓈. dropping the annual levi christmas fic. happy birthday to my beloved, he is such a special character to me and has gotten me thru some rough times :( forever grateful u exist levi ackerman. this was going to go in a completely different direction in my head but... alas the words lead me and i must follow. hope you enjoy!
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Of all the things to happen on Christmas Eve, car trouble ranked among the worst. Which, naturally, meant that’s exactly what happened to you. 
Something not too far from a blizzard had come in overnight, coating the roads in a thick, hazardous blanket. It looked beautiful, sure, but you were two hours away from where you needed to be on Christmas, and you figured — how bad could it be?
The answer was bad.
You’d skidded, blown out a tire (they were old, due for a change), and found your hood popped open with an odd smoke, stranded only 30 minutes south of where you’d come from. Your family was expecting you home by the evening, there to see everyone for Christmas Eve dinner. 
At this rate, you’d be lucky if you made it for Christmas at all.
After cursing yourself profusely for not just taking an extra day off and leaving yesterday, you started scrolling through your phone, looking for assistance.
The towing company answered the line in a sharp tone, already dismissive of your worries. It was idiots like you that kept them working Christmas Eve, and their annoyance was evident.
“What can I do for you?” a man, testy and older, answered. 
You explained the situation, and received a less than understanding response. 
“Sorry, miss, but we’ll be two hours out. There’s been a few other incidents, and we’re short-staffed. We can give you another call when we free up.”
“But I need to be somewhere tonight. There must be something you can do?”
“Sorry,” he said again, but it was clear he wasn’t very sorry at all. “If I were you, I’d start making calls… See if there’s anyone brave enough to come pick you up in this weather.”
He hung up on you.
You groaned, throwing your hands up in the air. It was unlikely that anyone would want to be your savior tonight. Your family was still 70 miles away, and everyone else you knew had other plans for Christmas Eve. 
But. 
You knew this stretch of road well, were more familiar with it than most streets along here. It was a country highway that wrapped around the smaller town before leading you onto the interstate, one direction to your hometown, the other to the city you lived in. 
Of course, it was here that your car had decided to break down, just ten minutes away from your ex-boyfriend’s house — a man you knew would be home, and certainly wouldn’t be afraid of the weather. 
In fact, he was the only one that wasn’t a tedious drive away, that could save you from the unfortunate situation you’d found yourself in.
You squeezed your eyes tight, trying not to cry. 
Calling Levi seemed your only choice — as pathetic of a choice as that was. You weren’t even sure he’d still have your number, or if he’d answer. But, your hands were becoming numb, the temperatures were dropping with the sun, and you weren’t sure how long you could stay out here without getting frostbite.
Still, on the second ring, you faltered, licking your lips. 
Maybe this was a bad idea. It’d been three years, after all. For all you knew, he could’ve had a new partner, could’ve been engaged. He could’ve moved across the country without any warning — you had no idea. 
Your hand started to fall away from your cheek, phone dropping with it. But the familiar tone stopped you, interrupting the third ring.
“Hello?” 
You exhaled, unprepared for the wave of emotions that washed over you from that simple word. Levi sounded exactly like you’d remembered, his voice even, almost monotone, nothing in it betraying his emotions. 
Still, it made your stomach twist. You couldn’t help but recall a time when that word had held a hint of affection in it.
“Levi,” you said, pushing away that line of thought to keep your voice steady. “You answered.” 
He was, apparently, just as surprised as you were. There was a long pause on the other end, before he resumed talking.
“I almost didn’t,” Levi admitted, releasing a breath of air that had to have come through his nose. “I didn’t want to. But, I couldn’t think of a good reason you’d call me on Christmas Eve unless—”
“I’m so sorry,” you cut him off, apologizing. You pinched the bridge of your nose, shivering in the cold. “I wouldn’t be calling if I weren’t desperate. but my car broke down — I was driving back to my parents’ house, and the tow company can’t come yet…” you rushed through the story, sparing too many details. “But it’s freezing, and you were the closest person I could think to call.”
He went silent once again. 
That was when you started to realize how crazy you’d been to call him. The last conversation you’d had was around this time of year, both of you stiffly walking through all the reasons you were worse for each other than you were better. 
This was a horrible idea. 
“I’m sorry,” you said again, shaking your head. Tears of embarrassment flooded your waterline. You weren’t sure they’d ever stopped. “This was stupid. Fuck. Forget it. I’ll—” 
“Where are you?” 
“What?” 
“Where are you?” Levi repeated, insistent. “I only answered because I figured it was an emergency. Looks like I was right. So where are you?” 
Your heart flipped at the notion that, even if it was a small part of him, he still cared. 
After fifteen more minutes of shivering in your freezing car, you ended up back at Levi’s house. The same house he’d lived in for ten years, and probably would live in until he died.
Levi wasn’t a homebody — in fact, he liked to spend more time outside of the house than he probably spent in it. He traveled a lot, sometimes for work, sometimes for fun. But it was a home that had belonged to his mother, until she passed away when he was freshly eighteen. 
Even if he hated living in this suburban town, you didn’t think he could stomach to part with the home he’d been raised in. One of the only things he had left of his mom.
It was almost heartbreaking, that you knew such intimate details about a person that had faded out of your life.
Levi’s house looked about the same, but Levi… Well, he looked incredible. As far as breakups went, he must have gotten the better end of it.  
His black hair was lightly dusted with snow when he helped you out of his car, red cheeks a bright contrast against his pale skin. Time may have dulled your memory of him, but you could have sworn his eyes had gotten even more blue in the time you’d been apart.
God, he was gorgeous. How had you ever been with someone like him?
“Would you like any tea?” Levi asked, taking you to the kitchen. Not like you’d forgotten how to get there. You’d spent enough time in his house to know the layout, right down to the foundation.
“Sure,” you said, still shivering, even with the heat blasting in the house. “Thank you, Levi. Not just for the tea, but for helping me. I won’t stay long, I promise.”
Levi was rummaging through his cabinet, and looked over his shoulder, back at you. Something rest on the edge of his tongue, but he said nothing, busying himself once more. 
The kitchen was the same as you’d remembered. None of the furniture had changed, but he’d added new appliances, changed out some of the cookware. Poinsettias were in the middle of the table, the only festive thing in the room.
You stared at them, and frowned, the tension between the two of you palpable. While you’d met each other once again like you’d never been parted, there still an underlying current of mistrust and uncertainty. A feeling that was expected to linger.
The break-up between you hadn’t been nasty, but you hadn’t parted on the best of terms, either. You and Levi had always argued… a lot. Half the time, it didn’t mean anything, but you couldn’t stop yourself from spitting something mean when you got angry.
It was your similarities that drove you apart, not your differences. You were both so neat, you fought over where things were meant to go. You were both independent, you grew frustrated with sharing space and compromises.
You were both stubborn, and never admitted to being wrong, even when it caused a rift between you and split you apart for good.
Of course, the worst issue was your tendency to bottle up your feelings, rather than talk through them. A problem that Levi shared — meaning that every little thing between you was brushed under the rug, only to trip you up later.
Levi brought the steaming mug over, pushing it to you across the table. You took a small sip of it, blinking at him over the edge of ceramic. 
“My favorite tea?” you asked, recognizing the taste of it immediately. “You remembered.” 
“I wasn’t sure if you still liked it, but I’ve kept it around anyway,” Levi said, and, as if realizing what he’d admitted, continued, “It grew on me. I drink it now.” 
You smiled. It was small and sad, mourning all the things you’d lost, but the sentiment warmed you all the same. You remembered Levi loved earl grey in the mornings, and chamomile before bed. In the fall, he preferred rooibos, the color and flavor reminded him of the autumn leaves. 
Or maybe he didn’t. Maybe he didn’t like any of those things, anymore. 
“I’m glad you like it now,” you said, humming. “You never did, before.” 
It sounded like a jab, even if you didn’t mean it as one. Levi stiffened, only slightly, before he released the tension and snorted, tightening his grip around the mug. 
You glanced at his hands, slender and pale, veins purple under his skin. Hands that had once roamed all over your body, slipped inside you, pulling you apart from the seams. 
That wasn’t a path you wanted to go down. You blinked, pushing away that line of thought as your stomach flipped, and prayed he hadn’t noticed your staring. 
“Anyway,” Levi coughed, clearing his throat. 
You nearly shrunk from embarrassment, certain that he had discerned your thoughts, but Levi wasn’t looking at you at all. His eyes were fixed on the clock across the room, watching the hand rotate around the frame. 
“You were visiting your family. How have they been?” 
Safe conversation, easy conversation. The kind that you could have had with any stranger, even if Levi knew all your family by name, knew your Christmas traditions. You repeated old history anyway, like you were meeting him for the first time, sharing weekend plans with an acquaintance before going your separate ways. 
The two of you chatted for a while, sipping on your teas, all the while, avoiding the topic of his holiday plans — if only to sidestep the discomfort that came with hearing he had none. Not that that was shameful, of course. Plenty of people did nothing for the holidays, didn’t want to. 
But, Levi had always come home with you for Christmas, for five years. Everyone loved him. Although you’d been nervous, at first, Levi fit right in, made himself comfortable with those that you cherished. He was polite, even though his sarcasm often bled through. But, that only made him funnier, in the eyes of everyone you held dear. They’d always given him two sets of gifts — for Christmas and his birthday — excited to watch him open them. 
Levi had always been so stoic when he responded with a stiff thank you, but you could see how touched he was, how pleased to be integrating himself so easily into your life. 
He’d made your holidays better than they’d ever been.
Now, he spent them alone. 
You couldn’t help but feel like your breakup had taken something special away from him, something he should’ve gotten to keep, even whilst you were separated. Maybe you could invite him home with you, just so your cousins could play one more round of cards with him and lose.
Melancholia flowered in your chest, and you, then, yearned for those moments, the ones you’d kept so dear. 
How had everything gone so wrong?
Your conversation stalled. You looked at each other, unsure what to say next. 
Shifting anxiously in your seat, you stood, as if for the first time realizing that you were in Levi Ackerman’s house, and you shouldn’t have been. That you were having cordial conversation with a man you swore to never speak to again, and it was like falling back into a routine, it was normal. 
And that was the worst thing about it — you knew why’d you’d broken up, but right now, you could hardly recall a good reason.
“I’m sorry,” you said for the millionth time that evening, eyes flashing towards the clock. It had only been thirty minutes, but the snow was getting worse and your tea was cold. “I should call my parents and let them know I won’t be home tonight. Hopefully the roads will be—”
“Wait.” Levi reached out, grabbing your hand before you could stand and make your exit. 
Your eyes flashed down to where you touched, at the same time his did, before you uncomfortably broke away. Levi blinked, then chewed the inside of his cheek, his mouth still drawn into that unexpressive, thin line. 
“What?” you asked, after too many seconds of silence. 
Levi inhaled, then dropped his head, jaw working as he looked away. “I’ve done a lot of thinking, over the past two years.”
Your breath caught in your chest. “About?” 
You already knew the answer.
“When we—” He licked his lips, eyes narrowing at the microwave, before they met your own. “Decided to end it.” 
Decided to end it. What a harsh way of putting it, but you supposed it was true. A final round in the passionate romance you’d had. A break-up seemed too simple for what you’d been, when it had ripped your heart out of your chest. 
“Oh,” you said, swallowing. 
“I know you might not want to have this conversation,” he said, nodding to himself. “But I need to say what I should’ve a long time ago. That I’m sorry.” Levi’s eyes were on you then, a more intense shade than you’d ever seen before. You froze, feeling unable to move, locked in the storminess of his gaze. “So many things were my fault. All the times I was dismissive, the times I was angry. All the times I didn’t communicate when I should’ve.” He released a breath, and despite his bravado, you realized he was just as nervous as you were. “I didn’t know how to love you like you wanted, and I’m sorry that I did such a bad job of it.” 
You blinked, watching him shift in his chair. “Levi…” you said slowly, softly, the word agonizing as it left his lips. 
“I know that doesn’t make it right, but I need you to know. I am sorry. You deserved better.” 
That, alone, brought you close to tears, that he seemed to be taking the blame for all the things that went wrong. Putting it on himself, when it was both of you, incapable of working together. “Levi, I’m sorry too,” you blinked back your tears, setting aside your pride. You’d already lost enough dignity, what was a little more? “You loved me just fine. Maybe I just couldn’t appreciate what I had. I never tried hard enough to make it work.” 
“That isn’t true.” 
“Yes, it is.” 
“No,” Levi huffed, “it’s—” But then he stopped, gathering himself, catching the fall, right back into the same old routine. You looked down at your hands, embarrassed. “We weren’t bad for each other. Nothing we ever did was bad for each other.” It sounded like a question, even if it wasn’t.
“It must have been,” you said, in a small voice. “Otherwise…” 
Otherwise, you’d still be together. 
Levi smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. His hands clenched and unclenched on the table. “I should’ve called you, when you left. I shouldn’t have let you walk away.” 
“But you did.” 
“I did,” he breathed. “And I regret it every day of my life.” 
You looked up at him, eyes shining at the realization. He still wanted you, maybe even still loved you. 
And as much as you cared for him, as much as your heart still bloomed in your chest at the sight of him, you weren’t sure how you felt about that.
“Levi—” you began, hoping to dispel the conversation. But he didn’t let it get that far, voice cracking at the start of his sentence.
“I mean it. I think about it all the time. About you. You were my friend as much as you were my partner, and I wanted you forever. I miss you. I—” Levi cut himself off, there, at the growing look of fear on your face, the knowledge that he was going to let something slip he shouldn’t. 
It tugged at your heartstrings all the same, and you looked away, wrapping yourself up in your arms. 
Silence fell across the room, the only sound the howling wind outside, a flurry of snow crashing against the window. Levi waited, patiently, for you to be the one to break the silence — and you summoned up all your courage, all your honesty, for a response.
“I would be lying, if I said I didn’t think about it too… What it would be like to try again.” 
Levi looked up, blue eyes narrow, but sharp with anticipation. “You—”
“I miss you too, Levi.” It felt like carving your heart out of your chest and handing it to him on a platter. “But it couldn’t be like it was before. Where we talked to each other about everything except for what really mattered. We can’t.” you swallowed, shaking your head. “I can’t do that again.” 
“I know.” Levi licked his lips. “Is that something… You would want?” 
Was it? Was Levi truly what you wanted, or were you not thinking clearly, only remembering the good times amongst all the bad. Were you just yearning for an idealization of love, a feeling that you’d been missing since splitting with Levi? Was it him you really wanted, or just someone to call your own?
But you knew the answer. It was obvious.
“Yes,” you answered, so quiet you weren’t sure he could hear it. “I would… I do want that. Maybe that’s why I didn’t hesitate to call you tonight.” 
Levi didn’t smile, but his eyes brightened, the storminess fading away so they looked like the sky. The cloud of grey above him melted away, and he seemed even younger than he had before, caught in the promises of adoration, akin to a boy in a schoolyard. 
“You can spend Christmas with me. Your birthday,” you said, hesitantly, not knowing if you’d even make it home, if you’d be stuck here. If that kind of invitation was not yours to give. “If that’s something you’d want.” 
“It is,” Levi answered softly, without questioning it, gripping your hand across the table. “I would’t want to spend it any other way.”
You smiled at each other, then, caught up in the glow of Christmas lights and the snow outside, a shaky vow holding between you. Maybe things wouldn’t change — maybe they would go back to how it’d been before, neither of you ever saying what you really meant. Maybe you’d hurt each other worse than you ever had before. 
But you loved him — you loved each other. And that could be enough.
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thank you for reading! ❤︎ reblogs and comments are appreciated!!! i might write a pt 2 if there is enough interest, but i wanted to finish this before christmas ◡̈
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gumii-bearr · 1 month ago
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Car sex with sukuna 🍳🍳
When He gets needy while driving on a highway and can't stop kissing your jaw/neck while fucking you into oblivion 😊
BOOOM SHAKALAAKAAAAAA i see u, i do be frothing at the mouth for that tattooed hoe.
thinking about... ❝ car sex ❞
featuring... ryomen sukuna
content warning: MDNI (18+), afab!reader, car sex hello, rough sex, sukuna being sukuna, semi-public sex, size kink???, fingering, don't have sex on the side of a highway that's dangerous
author's note: sorry this is so late!!!! i've been a busy lil worker bee
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── i just know the car is one of sukuna's favourite places to fuck you. it's intimate but he also gets the thrill of possibly being caught, the best of both worlds.
── sukuna tends to lose his composure when you're dressed in a short black dress that rides up your thighs whenever you sit down. you have to know what you're doing with how you press your tits together as you lean up to kiss his cheek.
── you have to know what you're doing when you bend down in front of him because oops! you dropped your favourite lipstick. and he can see the pair of sheer black panties you're wearing– his favourite.
── you don't make it to your reservation on time.
── sukuna's large hand is dwarfing your thigh, his fingers curling into the plush skin as you hum away and type on your phone like you're not teasing him by wriggling around in the passenger seat and pressing your thighs together.
── you're needy and he can tell.
── sukuna's hand always manages to be on you, always protective (possessive) of you. whether he's got a hand on your waist or your back, or he's holding the nape of your neck as he guides you through a crowded room.
── he always likes to feel you.
── so it's not surprising to you when his pinky finger grazes your clothed pussy while you're driving on the high way.
── neither of you say anything but you can see the shit-eating grin pulling at his fucking lips because he knows exactly what to do to get you going.
── "what's a matter, doll?"
── "nothing, 'kuna." god you're so cute when you feign innocence.
── but sukuna likes to tease you, see how far he can push you before you start crying and begging him to fuck you.
── sukuna pushes your panties to the side, your dress riding up over your hips as you spread your legs for him. you don't know how he manages to focus on the road while simultaneously fucking you open with his fingers.
── you're clutching his tattooed forearm, nails scraping at his skin as his fingers stretch your poor soaked little pussy open, your slick dripping down the inside of your thighs.
── he's getting you ready for him and you don't even know it.
── sukuna is rock fucking hard at the sounds you're making as you try to stifle your moans into your hand, the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder in a heap.
── he denies you your orgasm, he can tell you're close by the way your breath quickens and your cunt clamps down on just two of his fingers. you're so tight and he can't wait til you get home to fuck you, deciding to pull off the highway onto the dirt.
── "so fuckin' needy."
── he acts like it's such an inconvenience as if his cock isn't rock hard in his pants and as if the sight of you isn't sending him into a frenzy.
── sukuna is big you already know this, but the delicious burn and stretch you feel whenever he plunges into your tight heat never gets old.
── sukuna bounces you on his lap, not even bothering to take your panties off as he roughly shoves them to the side, holding your thighs open as he bites and sucks on your neck like an animal.
── he buries his face in your neck, the smell of your perfume being so fucking intoxicating to him.
── all he can do is bite, lick and suck at your neck, forcing those pretty sounds out of you as you whine and cry and scratch your nails against his clothed thighs.
── the windows are foggy, cars are speeding by but all you can feel is sukuna's cock splitting you open, his tip prodding at your cervix as he bullies into you.
── "couldn't fuckin' wait, huh? had to slut yourself out f'me."
── you make it to the restaurant, albeit extremely late.
── and you just have to pretend your neck and tits aren't covered in bites and hickies as you walk past the hostess.
── and pretend sukuna's cum isn't leaking out of your poor little hole as you sit at your table, your soaked panties sitting in his back pocket.
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author's note: so real
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sweetestberryofthebunch · 2 months ago
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Give It To Someone Special (Detective!Agnes x f!Reader)
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You take your fiancée home before the holidays, but your parents and Agnes have never been on the same wavelength. On the drive back home, you offer her the best remedy to release her tension that you know.
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Content/Warnings: Smut, Rough sex, Car Sex, Dom/Sub Dynamic, Age Gap Relationship, Vaginal Fingering, Choking, Spit Play, Degradation kink, They fuck nasty but they really love each other
Thank you so much to @ragnarockz @msharkness @lotsofmilfs for beta reading and helping me get this out in time for the holidays! I appreciate all of you angels so much! ♡
I‘m actually home for Christmas for the first time in years and the amount of time driving around to meet family that finds me odd and off putting inspired me, but like make it horny and enjoyable. My Yuletide Gift, from me to you! Enjoy my loves, happy holidays!
It was raining. Of course it was, you were in early December, and thanks to climate change, Westview barely got an actual white Christmas anymore. Let alone snowy December Days. Driving even further down South to the town your parents lived in certainly hadn’t helped. Miniscule raindrops hit the windshield silently, making the view muddy. The road was concealed by the mist like rain, the cars headlights piercing through just enough to safely follow the path.
Some young pop stars had covered Last Christmas, and the radio played it for the third time today. If dinner had been better, you might have sung along. But, as per usual, bringing Agnes out to see your parents had gone like shit, so you didn’t exactly feel the holiday spirit right now. The rain didn’t exactly help either.
Agnes‘ hair was in a low ponytail, a few strands falling loose around her face, forehead creased stoically as her eyes were fixed on the road. A few days ago, you‘d found the first grey hairs on her head while laying entangled in the morning, pressing little kisses to the crown of her head as she’d frowned and told you to get box dye immediately.
Now, the grey had disappeared between the rich brown of the rest of her hair,. If if you didn’t know you probably wouldn’t even notice them at all. However, the frown on her face remained. Just, it wasn’t her own greys frustrating her anymore. It was your parents. You licked your lips, resisting the urge to reach for her hand. Not while she was driving in weather conditions like this.
„Thank you“, you said instead, breaking the silence that had lingered since you‘dyou'd entered the car in your parents driveway. „For coming with me. I know you don’t exactly get along.“
Her jaw tensed, you could hear the motor give a tiny roar when her foot pressed down on the gas a little harder. You swallowed, eyes focusing back on the dark road before you. The highway was empty this late on a Sunday, especially in this weather. It was early December, most people hadn’t gone to visit family yet. You just liked to get it done early.
„I don’t mind your dad most of the time“, Agnes huffed, knuckles tightening around the steering wheel. „But today … was just uncalled for.“
„What did he say?“, you asked without looking at her, wanting to give her the space to dodge the question if she didn‘t want to talk about it.
„He probably just had too much beer.“, Agnes snarled, but you could tell it still bothered her, „Said the ring you’re wearing is a seal of your fate, that you’ll be in the prime of your life stuck taking care of some bitter old cop. That I‘m stealing your best years and you don’t even realise it.“
You bit the inside of your cheek, anger boiling in the pit of your stomach. „I‘m sorry. He shouldn’t feel entitled to say something like that, alcohol or not. That’s messed up.“
She scoffed, shoulders rolling back. „It’s fine. I know your mom doesn’t like me either.“
„That’s not true“, your tone didn’t even convince yourself. Your mother was better at pretending, but even you knew the smile she put on whenever Agnes and you drove down once or twice a year was a forced one. That she wished the person you brought home was anyone but the rough around the edges woman besides you. Like it was any of her business who made you happy.
Agnes scoffed. „I know she doesn’t show you her brunch friends’ shiny young sons for shits and giggles.“
„Agnes.“
The rain had intensified, thick drops of rain splattering against the windshield. Another roar of the engine. She kept her eyes focused on the road, gripping the steering wheel a lot tighter than she had to. You swallowed.
„You know none of their shit matters, right?“, A heavy sigh left your lips when she wouldn’t even glance at you, „My dad is talking out of his ass and my mother still thinks maybe the whole liking women thing will be over soon, as if we haven’t been engaged for two years now.“
Agnes stayed silent, eyes sternly focused on the dark road, only the sound of raindrops splattering onto the windshield between you. And that cover of Last Christmas, again.
You passed a road sign. A parking lot and a phone cell just a few miles ahead of you.
„Let’s stop there“, you proposed, watching the way Agnes pressed her lips together in a harsh line. „You know I don’t like when you drive angry.“
„I‘m not angry“, she replied immediately, and as if to prove her point, she took her foot off the gas, letting the car slow down a little, „I‘m just … irritated.“
„Either way“, finally, you reached out to her, brushing the few lost strands of hair behind her ear. The gentle touch of your fingertips against her cheek had her exhale immediately, readjusting her grip on the steering wheel. The car did a minimal swirl to the left before she caught herself again and readjusted her position on the road.
You giggled, pulling your hand away, elbows leaning on the middle console as you grinned at her. The tip of your tongue peaked out past your lips, giving her a coy smile. „I think you should take a break to … release some tension anyway.“ Your voice dropped lower when you saw the way her jaw tensed. „And it‘s just us out here tonight.“
At the clearly suggestive tone that swung in your voice, she finally glanced over at you, pupils dark. You shrugged your coat off your shoulders, leaning a little further towards her, eyes batting almost innocently.
Agnes' eyes stared at your lips, your eyes, your shoulder, still covered by a knit sweater, but the lacy strap of your bra peeking out, and then quickly back to the road before you.
She swallowed hard, then scoffed. But the smirk on her lips betrayed her, even as her eyes turned back to the road. Her right hand left the steering wheel to come rest firmly on your thigh, fingers brushing over the fabric of your pants so high up, your breath hitched at the contact. That made her chuckle, a low sound in the back of her throat, and she blinked right to pull over into the parking lot. „Maybe you’re right“, her thumb ran lazily up and down your inner thigh and you felt your stomach tighten at the touch. „A break sounds good right now.“
You were right, the small square of asphalt lay completely abandoned, nothing but a few parking spots and a telephone cell already halfway towards decay. No street lights, no buildings, just Agnes' grey little car alone between fields and meadows, the rain now pouring down against the metal roof.
Agnes put the car into park mode and turned off the radio, right hand never leaving your thigh as she did so, and then took a deep breath, back of her head hitting her seat as she did. She would never admit it, but she wasn’t just frustrated, she was tired too. Exhausted of never being enough to please your parents, of every trip to see them going to shit in some way. There was the little crease between her brows, the one she always got when she worried, when she was questioning herself.
„Baby“, you sighed. Now that you were safely parked, you leaned over the middle console completely and reached for her face with both hands, turning her head to face you. The tips of your fingers ran over her cheekbones, gently cradling her face, and her face immediately softened. Her hands wrapped around your wrists, keeping you close, the tips of your noses mere inches apart from each other.
„I‘m sorry we left on a bad note“, she said, blue eyes warm as she scanned your face, „I know you just want them to be happy.“
You shook your head at that, your thumbs brushing over her bottom lip as you gave her a warm, reassuring smile.
„I‘m sorry we spent your day off driving all the way down there only for dinner to be shit“, you replied, „I want my parents to be happy, but I value your happiness more.“
Her eyes widened, and you watched her pupils dilate at your little smile, which only made you grin brighter. „I mean it.“
Agnes' lips parted and she took a short breath. But before she could say anything else though, you surged forward, cutting her off with your lips on hers. Chapped lips melted against yours, leaning forward to deepen the kiss immediately. Fingers wrapped around the back of your neck to tug you closer, and you had to smile against her. Your teeth brushed against her upper lip and you felt Agnes holding back a little moan against your lips.
„I don’t care what my parents think“, you whispered, cupping her face in your palms. You made sure to look at her while speaking, watching the way her eyes flicked from your lips to your eyes, back to your lips. Your breath was heavy. „I just want you.“
For a moment, you just held eye contact in silence.
Agnes barely smiled, and she wasn’t one to keep her heart on her sleeve either, but you had learned that a lot of her inner world played out right behind her eyes. The way all color seemed to fade from them when she was sad, every little crease of her brow. How bright and wide they turned only when she looked at you.
Your tongue darted out, wetting your bottom lip as she scanned your face, that bright, distant look of almost disbelief on her face. Like she couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that you were real, that you chose to wake up next to her every single day. Like she was trying really hard to focus on what you were saying, but failing miserably.
A calloused thumb ran along your jaw, gentle like you were something delicate to be handled with care.
„You’re too good to me“, she murmured, and your own hand found hers, clasping around the pale skin, her fingers flexing in your grip.
„And you’re still way too tense“, you whispered, watching her eyes widen as you lead her thumb up and over your chin, grazing your bottom lip. Her eyes were firmly focused on the tip of her thumb, and you couldn’t help but grin before pushing it up further, lips parting to slip the single digit inside.
Agnes sucked in a sharp breath, watching the way your lips closed around her finger like it was some kind of mysterious sorcery, like she’d never seen it before. You had to withhold a smirk, tongue swirling around the tip of her thumb playfully, cheeks hollowing out as you made a show out of it. Agnes' other hand on the back of your neck tightened its grip, grasping at your soft hairs there.
Your eyes fluttered shut as you let out a soft moan, like her thumb pressing down onto your tongue was the most delicious thing you‘ve ever tasted. It was. Your stomach did a little flip at the taste, and a part of you wanted her to push more fingers past your lips, until you were gagging on her.
When she pulled out eventually, thumb now glistening wet, your mouth still parted as you blinked up at her with a smirk, you could swear you saw her tremble a little.
Agnes was fidgeting around in her seat, her eyes dark as she licked her lips, gaze heavy with arousal.
She kissed you again, firmly, one hand finding your shoulder and holding you in place, the other on your cheek, her wet thumb leaving a thin trail of your saliva on your skin. It made your insides feel like they were burning up.
„I really want to eat you out right now“, you gasped into her mouth, barely holding back the breathless giggle that accompanied your words. Her grip in your shoulder tightened, fingers digging into your skin.
„Way too good to me“, Agnes purred, her gaze heavy, fingers hot on your skin. Your lips were parted in a slight pant. Your thighs pressed together where you were still halfway sitting in your seat, halfway draped over the middle console to be as close to her as possible. Agnes glanced down at you, cheeks hot and lips swollen from kissing, your eyes dark and pupils round, practically begging her for more. Her own face was flushed too, and her breath had picked up, taking sharp breaths through her nose.
„Backseat“, she ordered, her tone leaving no room for discussion. Not that you had any intention to disobey. „Now.“
You jumped out of your seat and into the rain faster than you thought you were even able to move.
But, Agnes was still faster. She leapt around the car, pried the backseat door open, and before you even knew what was happening, your back hit the hard cushions. She was on top of you, crowding you up in the limited space of her car, slamming the door behind her shut with a little more force than necessary. She was straddling your hips, eyes now black with lust as she stared down at you. Even though you’d only been in the rain for a few seconds, wet strands of hair were already sticking to her forehead, and she wiped them back with one hand, the other finding your chest, pinning you down against the car seats.
„You’re wet“, she stated, and when a whine left your throat in response, paired with a twitch of your hips underneath her. She let out a hollow laugh. „I meant your shirt, slut.“
Your lips curled into a pout and her hand on your chest grabbed a fistful of your wine red sweater. She leaned down towards you, propping herself up with her other hand, until her face was mere inches from yours. You craned your neck, trying to catch her lips with yours, but she was just out of reach, her smile smug as she tugged harder on your sweater, exposing your midriff. A breathy whine escaped your throat, met by an evil chuckle.
„Not so assertive now, huh?“, her brows raised almost mockingly and for a moment, she just enjoyed watching you struggle underneath her, unable to push up against her grip on your jumper, helplessly wiggling underneath where she had you pinned. It was utterly pathetic, and by the way her breath came ragged, it was exactly what she wanted. Keeping you pinned down by your chest, she rolled her hips down into yours exactly once, the rough fabric of her jeans pushing against your softer, loose fitting slacks.
„Agnes please“, you whined at the contact, staring up at her through heavy lids. Heat was pooling in your stomach, you knew that your underwear must already be absolutely soaked, and you wanted nothing more than for her to just press her knee up against your core, to grind down against her until you were in tears from how good it would feel.
For a moment, she seemed to actually consider it. Then, she readjusted her position, sitting back up. At the loss of her closeness you almost cried out in frustration.
But her gaze was stern, so you didn’t dare to just yet.
„Arms up“, she instructed, eyes twinkling even in the dark at your eagerness.
You put your hands up over your head willingly, allowing her to quickly pull the knit sweater up and off, leaving you in just a thin black bralette, goosebumps rising on your skin. The moment the jumper was over your head, her lips found yours in a bruising kiss. One of her hands found your wrists and immediately pinned them over your head, the other one found your ribs, tips of her fingers running over your exposed skin. When you gasped at the contact, she took the opportunity to slip her tongue past your lips, smirking against you at the mewl in the back of your throat. The muscle ran over your teeth, pushing your own tongue aside as she explored your mouth, claiming each and every inch as her own in the process. Her hand ran over the flimsy lace of your bralette, and the little squeeze to one of your breasts made you squeak into her mouth.
“Worked up already?“, her voice had dropped low, that mocking tone she loved to taunt you with. A thumb ran over the curve of your breast, self satisfaction painting her face when she found your nipple already hard peaking through the thin fabric. She ran her index and middle finger over it, pressing down right into the hard bud just once. Hot pleasure surged through your body and your chest pushed up into her touch, the mewl escaping your lips loud and desperate.
„You know“, her hand wandered further up, over your collarbone. The tip of her finger ran over it asshe licked her lips. Like she was already planning how to devour you, how she was going to paint your delicate skin in shades of purple.
She was watching the way you were trembling under her touch, trying so hard to stay still. Fingers wandered up your throat, finally clasping around your neck, her grip firm but not yet tight. Agnes leaned down, voice ghosting so close to your ear you could feel her lips move against it. „If you just wanted me to fuck you in the backseat, you could’ve just asked.“
A moment of silence. Then you felt the tip of her tongue dart out, running along the shell of your ear. Hot breath right against it. „Next time we can skip the entire dinner and just go straight to this.“
Finally, her legs shifted, her knee pushing between your thighs. Your legs parted willingly, mouth opening in a gasp. Her fingers tightened around your neck, and the mix of finally feeling something push up against your aching cunt and the sudden lack of oxygen made your head spin. Agnes knew how to make you melt into nothing but a boiling hot puddle beneath her.
Agnes’ voice was still right by your ear, though she was leaning towards your face now, watching every muscle shift in reaction to her touch.
„You think you can cum like this?“, she taunted, „With me merely touching you?“
You nodded frantically, eyes wide with eagerness. Agnes scoffed, „Didn’t take you for such a needy slut, but alright.“ Without warning, her knee pushed up hard against you, and the squeak you let out was high pitched and throaty, weak through her firm hold on your neck. The older woman raised her brows expectantly, „Show me, and maybe I‘ll fuck you properly after.“
There were lawyers of fabric between you, and it shouldn’t work as well as it did, but God, you could not get enough. Your underwear was soaked, sticking to your core, and if you rolled your hips just right, angled yourself with just the slightest arch of your back, your clit brushed against her knee just right. So that was exactly what you did, grinding down into her, trying desperately to push closer as she kept your wrists pinned above your head with one hand, and your throat tightly gripped by the other. Piercing blue eyes stared down at you, taking in every single rut of your hips, every gasping attention to grasp for air, the flush of your face, your eyes fluttering open and closed as you worked yourself against her, steady and unwavering even in your compromising position. It was a borderline pathetic sight, and she couldn’t get enough of it. She needed to watch you fall apart like this, needed you to come undone on the brink of consciousness. She needed to see you in absolute ruin, from barely any stimulation at all. So you did.
You lost your sense of orientation, no way to tell where was up and down. Stars danced before your eyes, black spots mixing in with them over the blurry view of her face hovering over you. Hot white, spots of black, bright blue. Your eyes fluttered shut, but the view remained. Hips pressing down hard against her knee, picking up their pace as much as you could. Or maybe the sudden flashes of almost painful pleasure just came naturally, you genuinely couldn’t tell. But the soaked cotton of your underwear rubbed against your aching clit, pulsating with want as you chased more and more of it.
„That’s it“, the only clear sensation flooding your mind was her voice, so close to your ear, ringing through your head, „You look absolutely wrecked, my love.“
Hot, wet lips against the shell of your ear. A moan tried to escape your throat, but no sound could make it past the vice grip she had on your throat.
You felt scathing hot beneath her, burning up from the inside out, pleasure overtaking every last nerve end of your body. Finally, it all came crashing down. Your core pressed against her knee, not even rutting against her anymore, just pushing up as close as you could as a wave of heated, explosive euphoria shot up your spine. Your body was shaking, there was no up or down, left or right. There were just colors dancing before your eyes as your mouth fell open, no scream able to push past her tight hold and the pulsating of your aching clit as the orgasm took over all of your senses.
The grip on your throat disappeared, and your lungs rapidly filled with air in a loud, deep groan. Agnes’ lips attached to the side of your neck, nipping and kissing along the reddened skin, feeling the deep, slow breaths you took as slowly, your vision cleared and you felt the cushions beneath you again.
She released your wrists still pinned to the car door over your head as well, and your hands immediately found her hair, tugging her up towards your lips. She kissed you softly, making sure you could still breathe through it.
You wanted to moan into it, her name right on your lips, but no sound could make it past your throat, the strain settling in. Agnes' tongue darted out against your bottom lip, and you let her enter, hands running down her front. Your fingers dug into the washed out fabric of her flannel shirt, pulling her closer by it. Your legs, still shaking from the ragged orgasm prior loosely wrapped around her hips, holding her as close to you as possible.
The kiss turned heated again, and you felt your sense of up and down slip away. But she pulled away before you could fully lose yourself in the feeling again, leaning back enough to take you in before her. Your neck raw and bruised, painted by choking marks from her hands, a few blooming kisses peppered between them, the ghosting remnants of her teeth against your jaw. She loved to paint you hers, the view of her mark on you unlocking a feral, deep lust in her, a need to claim you and your pleasure as hers. To let everyone who laid eyes upon you know that she was the one touching you, that she was willing to do anything to make you feel good. And the things she did to you, even in the back of your car in the middle of nowhere on a mid December night … it should embarrass you, but something inside you twisted the humiliation into fuel for the fire inside you. Your legs twitched.
„Agnes“, you managed to croak out, surprised by how hoarse your own voice was, the single word barely making it past your lips.
Her brow raised, „What?“
Instead of an answer, you just tilted your head back, lips parting. Your tongue darted out, flat as your gaze found hers, a silent plea. Agnes' eyes turned black, her fingers digging into your waist harder. But, of course, your wish was granted.
Agnes strained her neck, jaw tightening at the movement. She was leaning over you, dark eyes never breaking contact with yours as a single string of saliva left her lips, dropping right onto your waiting tongue. Your eyes fluttered shut, lips closing around it as you savoured her spit like an expensive, rare fruit. With heavy eyes you stared at her from beneath your lashes as you swallowed, wincing at the slight pain the motion sent through your neck.
„Jesus fuck“, Agnes voice was low, nails digging into your waist, and your legs wrapped tighter around her at the sharp pain.
„If you could see yourself right now“, Agnes groaned, „So fucked out … and I haven’t even touched you yet.“
She surged back down, lips crashing into yours, and you managed to actually slip an audible moan past your throat this time, arms wrapping around her neck as you let her tongue lap into your mouth.
„Flip over“, she panted, words mere inches from your own lips, before propping herself up enough to give you some movement space, „On your hands and knees.“
Wriggling into the new position proved slightly difficult in the small space, but eventually you made it. On all fours, you cowered in front of her, Agnes forced to be halfway draped over your body with the low ceiling of the car. One hand wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against her before reaching up to brush your hair over your shoulder. Warm lips ghosted over the back of your neck, trailing downward between your shoulder blades.
„You okay?“, she grumbled, lips vibrating against your skin and you gave a quick nod.
Her lips attached to your back again, this time more urgently, sucking your skin between her teeth, the pain minimal but delicious.
Her other hand dove into your pants, brushing over your tailbone before dipping lower. She gave your ass a little squeeze, grunting into your neck at the feeling of your soft flesh in her palm. Her knuckles ran over your asshole on their way further down, and you jumped at the unexpected contact, making her chuckle.
„Now, now“, she just as much purred into your ear, „Don’t get greedy“, teeth nipped at your earlobe, „I‘m saving that one for another time.“
Your breath hitched, pushing back into her touch as her hand ran lower, down the curve of your ass and then finally, the tips of her fingers dipped between your folds.
She hissed at the contact feeling not just how hot you were but also the amount of slick that covered your core, absolutely soaking your underwear that she’d pushed past so easily.
„You are so wet“, she hummed, pressing a kiss to the sensitive spot right below your ear, „How embarrassing.“
Her index and middle finger swirled around your entrance, collecting liquid pleasure along their way. Your hips bucked back into her touch almost all on their own, and you heard her tut.
„Don’t get impatient now.“
For a moment, her touch was gone, and all you felt was the stretch of your cotton panties as she pulled her hand away. The lining sat just over your clit, and maybe if you rolled your hips just right …
Agnes let out an evil little laugh. „God, you’re so fucking pathetic.“
And then, without any warning or preparation, she plunged right in. Two digits slid right inside with little to no resistance, and the sudden intrusion made you jump, the moan on your lips shaking your entire body.
„Agnes fuck!“
She did not waste any time easing you into it, thrusting into you at a rapid pace, her hips pressed firmly against your ass. Your fingers dug into the fabric of the car seat underneath you, back arched like a cat to take her as deep as possible.
Once she was sure your position was stable enough, her other hand let go of your waist. Before you knew it, her fist curled into your hair, yanking your head back. You yelped at the unexpected tug, gasping for air as a hot, tingling sensation slowly crept up your entire body.
Her fingers drilled into you mercilessly, other hand pulling your head back by your hair. The tug was harsh at your roots, a sharp pain shooting through your skull that mixed deliciously with the way her fingers brushed over your walls, sliding in and out with no resistance.
„Agnes“, you mewled, eyes rolling back in your skull. The fist in your hair gripped harder.
„What, slut?“, she spat, fingers never breaking their brutal rhythm.
„Please“, was all you managed to reply. But of course, that wasn’t enough.
„Please, what?“ Her tone was harsh, and if it wasn’t for her grip on your hair, your head would have fallen forward in frustration.
“Make me cum“, you groaned, throat burning. You pushed your hips down into her hand, your entire body shaking as her fingers brushed over that one spot that made you see stars. „Like that“, you rasped, not caring for your voice anymore, so lost in the mix of pain and pleasure, all you needed was to reach that peak, and then come crashing down rapidly.
„Don’t stop Agnes, oh god— please don’t stop! I‘m gonna—“
And then you crashed. Her fingers drilled into you relentlessly, hitting the right spot with every thrust. The wet fabric of your panties still clung to your pulsating clit, and you could feel the way she pushed her own hips against the curve of your ass, felt her ragged breath against your back. For a moment, everything turned into singing, burning hot pleasure.
Your limbs gave out beneath you and you collapsed forward onto the seat. However, before your forehead could hit the car door right in front of you, Agnes' arm had wrapped around your waist already, interrupting your fall before gently laying you down on the cushions. Your breaths came ragged, panting loudly, throat still aching, your body numb from sheer overwhelming pleasure, tears stinging in your eyes.
But Agnes was right there. Her hand slipped out of your pants, running up your spine to brush your hair out of your face, a gentle kiss finding your cheek, arms wrapped around you firmly enough to keep you grounded, but not so tight that you could feel smothered. Slowly, your breath evened, craning your neck carefully, just enough to glance back at her.
„Fuck“, you sighed, sweat glistening on your brow.
Agnes chuckled. „What, you’re done already?“ Her hand brushed a few strands of hair from your forehead, stuck to the layer of sweat on your skin, „I thought you were gonna eat me out back here“
Still catching your breath, you shook your head at her. „Not after that I‘m not“, your voice was hoarse, throat still a little tight and you‘d definitely feel sore tomorrow morning. „I can barely breathe.“
Her thumb slid underneath your chin, tilting your face upwards to look directly at her. „Are you okay, darling? Did I go to hard?“
Slowly, as to not strain your neck any further, you shook your head. „I promise I‘d tell you if you did.“
Her eyes scanned your face for any signs of pain, but when all you did was give her a gentle smile, she nodded. „Let’s lay you down for a moment," she whispered, leaning forward. Her lips pressed against your forehead for a soft, lingering kiss, “I could use a breather myself.“
You were laying on your back, head in her lap, the blanket she kept in the back of the car for emergencies draped over your body, your hands holding one of hers, gently running your fingertips up and down her calloused palm. The movement came to a halt when she felt the metal of your ring brush against her skin, the rough edges of the little polished amethyst on the band. Her hand clasped around yours, warm skin against skin.
„We should pick a date soon“, she whispered suddenly, and your eyes fluttered open, already half asleep in your exhausted state.
„Hm?“
She leaned forward, nose brushing against the shell of your ear before pressing a single, small kiss to your cheek. „We should get married next summer“, she whispered, ponytail falling over her shoulder. Your heart skipped a beat.
„I‘ve already made you wait too long," Agnes murmured, forehead resting against yours.
You stretched your free arm over your head, blinking up at her, eyes bright in the half dark of the car.
„I‘d like that“, you whispered back, voice growing hoarse from the strain your earlier actions had put on your vocal cords. „Maybe Lilia could officiate. And we’d have a bonfire in the backyard. I‘d wear a flower crown. Jen could do my makeup.“ You sounded drowsy, half asleep but still smiling, the vision clear before your eyes, cheeks warm at the thought.
Agnes looked at you for a moment, and her face was soft. No crease on her forehead from constant frowning, no furrowed brows. Her lips were swollen from kissing you so hard, and they were slightly parted when she leaned in, a slow, gentle press of her lips against yours.
„I love you“, she murmured, and you felt her arms wrap tighter around you. „And promise we‘ll make our day the most special day it can be. But Jen is not touching my wife at my wedding. You’re beautiful as is. Jen should feel lucky that she’s invited.“ You rolled your eyes at her, pulling her into another kiss by the back of her neck. She let you, leaning down to brush her lips gently against yours.
The Radio played that stupid song again. This time, it made you smile, whether you wanted it to or not.
„Merry Christmas“, you whispered against her lips, and she pulled back in surprise. For a moment, she stared down at you in disbelief, like she was waiting for a punchline of some sort. But at your sheepish little grin, she just rolled her eyes with affection.
„Merry Christmas to you too, my love.“
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wendichester · 2 months ago
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༘⋆📼 。˚ songs that make me think of d.w.,
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summary. driver picks the music, shotgun... made the mixtape .ᐟ
pairing. dean winchester x reader
wordcount. 844.
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The gas station is quiet, the kind of place you only stop at when there’s no other option. Snow drifts lazily down, coating the ground as Dean pulls the Impala up to the pump. He steps out of the car, stretching with a grunt as the cold air hits him, walking around to the gas station to fill up. You sit in the passenger seat, glancing back at Sam in the back, his face pressed against the window, dead to the world. He's been asleep for the past couple of hours.
You reach down to grab the cassette tape resting in your lap. Songs That Make Me Think of D.W. is scrawled across the label in your handwriting. The whole drive here, you’ve been working up the nerve to give it to him. You try not to overthink it, trying to convince yourself it’s just a fun little thing. No big deal. Except it is a big deal because it’s for Dean, and everything with him feels bigger.
By the time he slides back into the driver’s seat, you’ve almost chickened out.
Dean exhales, rubbing his hands together for warmth before starting the engine. “Damn, it’s freezing,” he mutters, glancing back at Sam to confirm he’s still asleep.
You feel the weight of the tape in your hand as you glance over at Dean.
“So, what’s that?” he asks, voice still teasing as his gaze flicks to the tape in your hands. Of course, he noticed. He had noticed miles ago. But decided to wait to see if you would say anything. He got tired of waiting.
You hesitate, but finally, you offer it to him. “It's a mixtape,” you say casually, pretending like it’s no big deal. “I made it for you‒for the road.”
Dean raises an eyebrow, looking at the label. “Songs that make you think of me, huh? Well, color me intrigued." He chuckles. "What is this? Some kind of Christmas gift?” He smirks, clearly amused.
You roll your eyes, leaning back against the seat. “Don’t make it weird. It’s just some songs that remind me of you. Thought you might like it.”
Dean chuckles, sliding the tape into the deck. “Oh, I’m definitely making it weird. This is prime teasing material, sweetheart.”
As the first song starts, you feel the warmth in your chest when you hear the opening chords of “Simple Man” by Lynyrd Skynyrd. He leans back, letting out a satisfied sigh as he listens, his fingers drumming lightly against the wheel.
You can’t help but glance over at him, watching the way the music seems to take him in, his shoulders relaxing. His lips curve up at the edges, his eyes softening.
“You know,” he says after a few moments, his voice a little quieter, “this is one of my favorite songs.”
“I know,” you reply with a small smile, trying to keep the heat out of your voice.
Dean looks over at you, a glint of amusement still in his eyes. “Yeah? You think of me when you hear it?”
You shift in your seat, giving him a sidelong glance. “Maybe.” You bite your lip, feeling the slight weight of the moment between you two. “It’s… fitting. You know? With the whole ‘always on the road’ thing.”
Dean smirks, his thumb lightly brushing the steering wheel. “Ah, so you’re saying I’m a ‘simple man,’ huh?”
“Not exactly,” you tease. “But you do have your own way of doing things. And yeah, it’s a little… comforting.”
Dean raises an eyebrow, glancing at you again. “Comforting...” He pauses, his lips curling into that signature grin of his. “Well, I’ll take that as a compliment.”
You roll your eyes, trying to fight back the grin that’s tugging at your lips. “Just take the tape, okay?”
“I am taking it,” shaking his head as he shifts the car into drive and pulls back onto the highway. The song continues to play, filling the space between you. Sam stirs briefly in the back but doesn’t wake. “But I’m gonna get you back for this. You’re too cute when you get all flustered.”
You smirk, feeling your face heat up. “Flustered? I’m not flustered.”
Dean chuckles, the warmth in his voice making you feel like he knows exactly what he’s doing. “Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”
He keeps driving, the snow swirling outside the window as the song plays on. You’re not sure if it’s the music, the moment, or the way Dean is just… there, but the silence that falls between you doesn’t feel awkward. It feels… like home.
Dean turns his head, his gaze lingering on you. “You’re not getting out of this easily, you know. I’ll be playing this mixtape for the rest of our trip.”
You grin, the feeling of him staring at you making your heart race just a little. “Glad you like it.”
Dean’s fingers lightly tap on the wheel again, and he finally looks away, focusing back on the road. “I do,” he says softly, and you can hear the sincerity under the teasing tone.
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taglist ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ֶָ֢ @deans-daydream
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seat-safety-switch · 10 months ago
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One of the greatest joys in life is using your shitty old car to shut down a legitimately nice car. For any law enforcement folks reading this, I would never endorse street racing. Also, I think I heard someone shoplifting in the other room, and you should go check it out. The best kind of street racing is the street racing the other person doesn't know they're having.
Now, I've had nice cars in the past before. Once, I had a Mercury Cougar XR7 with most of its original paint. Come to think of it, I might still have it somewhere in the backyard. Hard to keep them all apart these days. Anyway, when you drive a nice car, you get this sort of ego boost every time you see a lesser vehicle. How dare you peasants not realize how inferior your base Corollae are? Only a connoisseur can truly appreciate the divine features of this fine automobile.
That kind of mentality is simply not healthy. All of us, each and every one of us, are just a few generations away from being shit-throwing apes. The fact that we managed to make a machine that gets us down the highway quickly is a total miracle, and it's not any more of one because we put a pretty logo on it and charged $20,000 extra to put precision-engineered butt manipulators in the seats. It is this problem that the very fast beater is meant to solve.
When you have a shitbox and that shitbox goes faster than a nice car, whether because of superior driving (not me) or a significant amount of horsepower (not me) or a lack of understanding of your imminent mortality (possibly me) it is a great feeling to shut down those rich folks tooling around in their "good cars." It knocks them down a peg, which keeps them from doing things like going into work and causing another housing crisis. In fact, I'm going to go out and gap some Porsches with an old rusty fire extinguisher filled with nitrous oxide right now. You should come too, so I can get a ride home after the cops bust me for shooting my engine block across four lanes of the highway.
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beardedjoel · 10 months ago
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oasis
dbf neighbor! joel miller x f!reader. one shot.
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main masterlist | ao3 | kofi
summary: your dad's friend is tasked with looking after you while he's out of town. he ends up finding you somewhere you absolutely shouldn't be. blackmail ensues. 8.3k words.
for @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my genre was dark and the prompt was "please don't tell my dad!" thanks for the amazing challenge! 💌
warnings: 18+ MDNI! dark themes, joel is pervy and sleazy, age gap (reader is under drinking age but an adult so 18-20, joel's age unmentioned but he calls himself an old man and he's 50+ in my head), consensual but there are elements of coercion and blackmail so... (it's dark! okay!), unprotected piv, lap sitting, lap dance, thigh/crotch riding, orgasm denial, pussy pronouns, dirty diiiirty talk, cumshot?, reader has hair that can be pulled and wears lingerie but otherwise is undescribed.
a/n: this is less edited than my usual work but i hope i did it justice! it was very fun and silly to come up with this idea and i ended up loooving how crazy it got!
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Keep an eye on her while we’re gone, eh?
The words from your father ring through Joel’s ears when he hears the start of an engine from where he sits in his living room, his view on the plush couch offering a perfect view through the large picture window on the front of the house. Right to where you live with your dad, where he can see the lights of your car come on. Bingo. He’s got you now.
Obsession felt like a strong word, but Joel could describe it no other way as soon as you’d moved in across the street - your dad was a longtime friend and neighbor, talk of his little girl rampant for years before he’d had the chance to meet you. You were going to be going to college nearby, so you moved from where you lived with your mom in California down to your father in Texas, right across the street from where he’d had the pleasure of laying eyes on you for the first time.
Young. Supple. Beautiful. And so damn shy. 
He hated just how much it turned him on when your timid eyes would find his. The pervy old man who couldn’t keep his eyes off a young girl - what a god damned cliche he’d become. He kept tabs on you, at first not really realizing he was doing it, eyes peering out the windows to catch you on your way out the door or coming home soon escalated to trying to see into your bedroom window at the front of the house. His time with your father mysteriously seemed to double, then triple, any chance he could to get close to you, see you in your natural habitat, hoping to learn more about this special girl that had captured so much of his attention.
You dressed modestly, too - far too modestly for his liking - he knew your father was a strict man, and assumed just as much about your mother from the way your dad talked about his ex-wife. He never got to see enough of you, except for the few times you had on shorter dresses when the summer heat just got to be too much to bear, and those rare occasions burned themselves into his memory, a bank of images to pull from when he took a hand to his cock and thought of you.
He’s up in a flash, smiling softly to himself as he quickly slides on his shoes and swipes his keys from the front table, exiting the house and seeing your car still parked in the drive. You always sit there too long before driving off, probably playing on your phone, texting your friends, whatever the hell young girls like you do. All Joel knows is he’s grateful it gives him enough time to sneak to his truck before you can get too far, waiting until you pull out and start down the street before starting his own car.
Joel checks the time as he starts down his driveway and sees it’s well after 9:00 pm. Where the hell could you be going, you naughty thing? Your dad has a strict curfew for you, he knows, and if he’s tasked with keeping an eye on you, he might as well do it right.
So he follows you. You get on the highway, heading towards downtown, and Joel’s eyebrows raise as he turns up his music, cruising along behind you, so unaware as he sees the outline of your own head bopping along to your music when he can get a clear enough view.
When you finally park, the city streets bustling with people out late on a Friday night around you, Joel sits in his truck, eyes peeled as he watches you round a building, disappearing. Oasis, the glowing sign on the front says. It looks a bit seedy, this area of town, a bouncer on the outside that you’d given a curt wave to sending Joel’s expression into pure shock before a determined smirk crosses his lips.
It turns out it’s not as exclusive as having a bouncer would make it seem. Joel waits in line with the others, feeling a bit out of place but his appetite to bust you outweighs all of it. Not more than ten minutes later he’s inside, the dark hallway opening up to a massive room laid out in front of him. It’s busy - bodies everywhere, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and arousal permeating everything and Joel blinks to adjust his eyes to the dim mood lighting. A dance floor takes up most of the middle, crowded to the max as music bumps through the speakers, and two bars flank either side, fully packed as well. There are lounges everywhere - cushy leather couches with tables, and as Joel’s vision comes in in full, he sees more private spots along the edges of the room on a slightly elevated area, curtains closing them in.
Too busy taking everything in, he doesn’t even notice the most important detail right away - the waitresses. More specifically, the way they’re all dressed. Gorgeous bodies of all shapes and sizes, parading around in what is essentially lingerie - a lacy black bra paired with a matching set of panties, sheer black stockings and a garter trailing down their legs all the way to the heels that adorn their feet. Joel feels a twinge inside his belly, pulling low and taut when he spots one of the waitresses with thick thighs and a plush stomach grinding on a woman sitting on one of the couches, the receiver throwing her head back in teasing, pleased laughter before taking a long sip of her drink. He continues scanning the room, seeing another man closer to his age being straddled by a different waitress with one of the nicest pairs of tits Joel has ever seen in that same uniform, her hips swaying and grinding so close to his crotch as she gives him a lapdance.
Fuck.
His mind spins faster, blood going hot as it runs through his veins, his cock twitching under the denim of his jeans. It’s been too long - all the pining, the built up frustration, and he’s needy. He finds it hard to believe you’d just be out partying at a place like this, certainly not the neighborly girl he knows. Bringing over leftovers you’d cooked for you and your dad, always with a little treat on the side and a soft smile, your frilly socks and white tennis shoes, collars that never revealed much past the very top of your gorgeous tits. But it still made him fucking crazy, all of it. He wanted to be the one to ruin it, to see who you really are underneath all of the fluff and sweetness. Because at the end of the day, he knows he wasn’t imagining that glint in your eye that told him you had more to offer.
Joel shakes the distractions and his dirty, racing thoughts, eyes scanning the room for you, remembering his mission. He is about to internally ask himself the question when your appearance answers everything he needs to know. Slack jawed, he looks on as you step out from behind one of the bars, tossing a smile over your shoulder at one of the other workers as you start to move carrying a tray full of drinks. 
When you emerge in full, strutting your way across the room, you’re wearing it. The outfit. The skimpy bra and panties to match all of the other servers. Your coworkers. Oh, he’s so thoroughly fucked right now, he thinks in a rising panic. But then again, so are you.
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“Thank god you’re here! You’re seriously such a life saver,” Kristina says breathlessly as you breeze into the locker room. She’s one of the supervisors here at Oasis, the club you’ve been working at since the beginning of the summer. Sure, you were underage to serve alcohol, but the owners of this club seemed willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of things to gain good talent. Good pay, direct cash, and an insane amount in tips. Enough to pay your way through college, you hoped. Beyond all of that, once you’d gotten into the swing of things you found that you liked it, too. The power you felt in these heels, the way eyes followed you everywhere, you’d never felt so desired, so free or sexually open in your life. Although the only time you’d actually had sex was with your one ex-boyfriend, and it never felt like you do here - sexy, with raw desire filling the air, something so tangible you feel you can reach out and touch it sometimes.
You pull your shirt over your head, unclasping your regular bra and swapping it for the black, lacy one that lives inside your locker. Kristina stands nearby, unfazed by your bare chest as she thanks you. She’d called you about forty five minutes ago, begging for you to come in on your night off when another server, Rochelle, got sick right as things started to pick up. Friday night tips hadn’t sounded so bad when you had no plans apart from watching TV in your dad’s empty house, so it felt like a win.
“No problem,” you say, smiling at her. “Happy to help.”
“You’ve got section five tonight - Justin has Laura covering right now, just switch out when you’re ready, kay?”
You confirm, quickly finishing up your swap into your uniform, admiring yourself in the mirror with a soft smile, still getting used to the look of lingerie on you. You’d have been stupid to keep something like this in the house with either of your parents, not worth the risk if they found out about it.
The noise of the club blares, making you wince for a quick moment as you step out from the calmness of the locker room to the deafening noise beyond and get your bearings behind the bar. It really is busy, but all you can see is money when you glance around, admiring how full the place is tonight. 
You’re stopped in the middle of your flow after swinging by the bar to pick up drinks for one of your tables. It’s an extra flirtatious group of men who are practically ready to feast on you, but for all the poorly managed things about this club, they at least have a strict no touching rule with the staff that is enforced by any number of the security guards around. So you get to have your fun, keep your distance, and hope they pay extra for a lapdance from you and tip you well for it.
“You’ve got a, uh, private request,” Justin says, speaking quietly but leaning close to your ear so you can hear him. You pull back, a look of surprise on your face, a questioning glance that he confirms with a nod. “We’ll cover your tables. Room seven.”
Your mind spins faster as you walk towards the room. The rooms aren’t fully private, just a halfway curtain that gives the impression you’re more alone than you are. That luxury doesn’t come cheap, so whoever booked this room and asked for you must mean business. In fact, management hasn’t even put you on serving private rooms regularly yet, reserving that right to the more tenured employees until you work your way up the ladder. You smile, wondering who it could even be that specifically requested you - a regular that loved the banter you’d offered? A new customer who was drawn to you from across the room? It makes your heart skip a little, anticipation and a hint of nervousness coursing through you as you reach the curtain, stepping beyond to see your mystery customer.
Holy shit.
The sultry smile you’d plastered on fades right off your face, replaced with a deep set frown, your mouth open but unable to speak. Your stomach is rapidly dropping to depths it's never known before as your face starts to burn hot, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. Your arms fly up to your chest, crossing them over as some kind of futile cover of yourself, but his eyes are trained there unashamedly, seeing the way your arms have really just accentuated your cleavage. He’s spread out on one of the loveseats, completely alone, knees wide apart, lap open and desperately inviting when it absolutely should not be.
“M-Mr. Miller?”
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Joel was having far too much fun with this. The priceless look on your face that had wiped off the pretty grin you’d had was worth every damn penny he’d spent on this ridiculous room just to get you alone. You think you can cover up, somehow, but it only really offers Joel a better view of your bottom half, the lacy shorts style panties a treat for his weary gaze, the garters sitting against your soft skin one of the most enticing things he’s ever seen. He instantly feels his cock getting hard as his eyes rake up and down your body, settling on where your tits are now pressed together against your crossed arms.
“Mr. Miller?” you stutter out after a long, dense silence between the two of you.
“Don’t cover up on account’a me, sweetheart,” Joel replies cooly, threading his hands together behind his head, looking even more relaxed than when you’d first walked in. Your arms seem to tighten around you, the complete opposite of Joel.
“Wh-what are you -” you start trying to ask, and Joel notices how you suddenly look unbalanced, legs shaking underneath you. You attempt a step forward, bringing yourself further into the room and it gives Joel an even closer look at you, and god damn you’re gorgeous. Your skin looks flawless, so smooth and soft looking - the apex of your thighs coming closer to eye level as you move forward, all adorned by that lace that’s making him wild. He’s never seen anything close to this much of your skin before, and he has half a mind to grab you right here and toss you over his lap, taking everything he wants from you.
“Could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” he questions you, enjoying the tease, the way he sees your face screw up a little tighter at the very valid point he was making. You’re caught, and there’s no way around it now, he thinks smugly.
Your face falls, eyes going to the ground and watching your feet shift nervously in your heels. “I-I get it. You made your point. I’ll go home, okay? I know I shouldn’t be here -” you stammer out, and the guilty look on your face tells Joel what he’d already suspected - your dad knows absolutely nothing about this job of yours. 
“No, you shouldn’t,” Joel says, but he makes no move to get up, keeping a steady, unrelenting gaze on you. When you flick your eyes up to him, he sees they’re watery, and it makes his insides twinge with a strange mixture of regret and pleasure as he sees the tears brimming along the edges of your eyes, the subtle panic he can see growing. 
“You’re bein’ very bad, ain’t ya? ” Joel tuts, and you seem to almost flinch at the words from where you awkwardly stand in front of him still, unsure of what to do, where to go. Joel feels that pleasure growing warm in his gut, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “I mean, look at that outfit, sweetheart -” Joel starts with a low whistle, sitting forward slightly so you can see just how much he’s admiring it, his eyes narrowed in inspection, the weathered lines in his face apparent with the way his brows are raised. “Thas’ a far cry from those clothes you wear on my doorstep, play actin’ a good little girl.”
“N-no! I don’t - I didn’t mean - I am good.” You’re more and more visibly flustered, your arms wrapping around yourself as Joel continues to tease you, intent on bringing you down a few more notches.
Joel gives you a condescending glare. “Darlin’, ain’t nothin’ good about this. Lemme tell you what I think…” He leans back again, staring up at you, not once inviting you to sit, and knowing you won’t unless he does - he wants to make you sweat. “You never got to have that rebellious streak w’ both your parents bein’ who they are, did ya? An’ you thought you deserved it, to have a little fun, didn’t you?”
Your lip quivers and you blink back another set of hot, embarrassed tears, eyes trained back on the dark, faux marble floors, refusing to speak.
“Didn’t you?” he asks again with more bite. Fucking brat. Good thing Joel had plenty of tactics up his sleeve to whip a wannabe brat back into a good girl, he thinks with a sly smile to himself.
“Y-yes! Okay? I wanted to do something… for me,” you finally admit, feeling yourself shake a little at his demanding words.
“Now was that so hard?” Joel asks, becoming acutely aware of just how hard he is, almost painfully so now that he’s been teasing you, fantasizing about this moment for far too long. You shake your head, still hung downwards in shame before bringing your eyes back to his. They look soft, youthful and desperate, and Joel has never felt so turned on in his goddamn life, all the power he’s feeling rushing right to his cock.
“J-just… please don’t tell my dad,” you say, almost quiet enough Joel can’t hear it over the distant bump of the music. But he made it out, the words he’d been hoping you’d say, the ones he knew you’d have to utter.
“I won’t,” Joel starts, seeing the relief flood your face, nearly laughing at how quickly you put stock in his words before even hearing what else he has to say. So naive. “But what’s in it for me, hm? Ain’t gonna keep a secret without a little… incentive.” Joel’s hands plant on his thighs, running up the length of them as he watches your emotions shift in real time, your jaw going slack, eyes widening and barely blinking. You just stutter, completely taken aback and Joel had expected as much - you’re too good of a girl to navigate a situation like this. Good thing he already has his next words planned and loaded up to help you along.
“Laps feelin’ mighty empty, y’know…” Joel muses, leaning back and spreading his palms out on the leather couch next to his thighs. You flash your eyes to his legs, then his face again, mouth gaping open, finally realizing just what he’s asking for. 
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You can’t believe this is happening to you. You should never have taken this job, kept such a big secret from your dad that you knew he’d absolutely kill you for if he found out. You were technically an adult now, but that didn’t mean you could just throw away his rules while you lived at home with him. 
And now you were being blackmailed by his friend. His very handsome friend, but you’re trying hard not to think about that right now. There’s no way he’s serious about this, no way he could actually want this from you? The neighbor girl, his friend’s daughter? Mr. Miller had always been kind, just a bit of a grumpy edge to him but he loved to joke around with your dad. You often caught them laughing together, too shy to have inserted yourself enough with someone who made your skin grow hot just from glancing into his dark, chocolate brown eyes. But without that buffer of your dad, here alone in the dim lighting of the club, it was like he’d become another man. 
“Y-you want me to…?” you say, blinking hard as you stare at his thick thighs and crotch, all spread wide open. It’s enticing - normally even with an attractive customer you find yourself thinking of it more as work - fun work, but still work. But with Joel… you’d felt heat pooling between your thighs as he observed you this entire conversation, the desire starting to outweigh the embarrassment you were feeling. 
“Paid for it, didn’t I?” he remarks practically, a nip of impatience edging his voice as you swallow hard and step forward. 
“Y-you don’t have to… we can get a refund if you don’t want me to do it…” you say, trying to remind yourself not to mumble, but your nerves are getting the best of you. 
Joel’s head shakes slowly, his hand drifting out smoothly from his body towards you, tenderly locking on to where your wrist dangles at your side and pulls you closer. Closer. Closer, until he’s pulling you down so that you have to bend down, coming face to face with him. Your cheeks burn, breathing heavy and stunted as the tension in the air thickens, his lips so close to yours. You can’t help but glance at them, the inviting curve of his lips drawing you in, but Joel’s eyes are elsewhere, peering down right between your bodies where your tits are on such display for him, spilling out of the bra at this angle. 
“Like I said,” he coos softly, eyes obviously drifting up towards your face, “I need a little incentive to not spill your dirty little secret, darlin’.” A smirk grows on his face before he lets go of your wrist, and you stumble backwards a little. 
“Y-you -” you stutter again, trying to counter him, but you come up short. “O-okay…” you mutter with a sigh, taking a deep breath before you hesitantly turn around, facing your back to him. 
Joel tuts immediately at your lack of enthusiasm. “None of that, gimme the full show, sweetheart, or the deal’s off.”
You huff quietly, taking a few steps away from Joel, readying yourself. He can see the change in your demeanor already, the more confident strides you take before turning around, facing him again. Then you begin your routine, practiced and ready, pacing towards him with a feline, graceful energy, heels clicking on the floor as you slip one leg in front of the other, heading towards him. You almost hesitate, pushing yourself through the doubt as your hand reaches out, grazing along his shoulder, moving inward towards his collarbone.
Your fingers drag along his chest, where one button of his flannel shirt is open, wishing you could delve your whole hand inside and feel the more than likely gorgeous planes of his chest. Christ, he’s so meaty, so thick everywhere you touch. 
A soft rumble escapes his chest before you turn around, grinding your ass downwards and then back up, teasing him by getting a little lower each time. But it’s not enough, he knows you’re holding back, your movements a little stilted and awkward. His cell phone is out of his pocket before he can think much more about it, snapping a photo of the way your ass is grinding down towards him, just enough of your side profile in the photo that it’s undeniably you. 
“Come on, know you can do better’n that.” Joel clicks his tongue, making you freeze, hovering awkwardly above him. “Do this for a livin’ lord knows how many nights a week. If you ain’t gonna give me what I paid my hard earned money for I can call your daddy right now… maybe jus’ text him this picture. What d’you think about that?” Joel asks, holding his cell phone forward and into your eyesight. You gasp, hands grabbing for it just as he snatches it away. 
“D-delete that! Please!” you cry out, feeling panic squeeze at your chest. Fuckfuckfuck you are so thoroughly fucked right now if Joel has photo evidence.
Joel smiles down at his phone, peering at the image one last time before pocketing it. “No can do, sweetheart. Now, I don’t really wanna have to ask again, yeah?”
You only gape at him for a moment longer before snapping your mouth shut and positioning yourself above his lap again. “F-fine. Jesus,” you mutter angrily, finding that the irritation you’re feeling is starting to spur you on as you begin to move again, feeling yourself turned on by Joel’s musk in your space, the heat of his body radiating towards yours in this close proximity. Not to mention you can sense just how turned on he is, how much this is affecting him as you move with more conviction, hips delicately swinging in front of him. If he wants a show, you’ll give him your best yet, you think with determination.
“F-fuck… attagirl,” Joel lets slip when you brush his crotch with your ass. He’s barely holding it together with your curves swaying tantalizingly in front of him, something even his wildest dreams likely couldn’t have conjured up. He’d never think he’d see you like this - so sensual, so fucking gorgeously in control of your sexual aura that it could make a man lose control. Your customers were beyond lucky, he thinks with a pang of jealousy shooting through him, making his blood boil hotter, his possessive side come out. While he’d been at home pining over you, thinking about you with a hand stroking his own cock, you’d been here - rubbing your pretty ass on all those lucky fucks and their undeserving crotches. 
The thought makes him insane, the image of you doing this to any other man, so when you lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest, your ass just beginning to grind on his jeans, his hands go to your hips instinctively trying to bring you down onto him, to claim you. You slow your movements to a stop, leaning your head back towards his ear so that you’re almost entirely pressed against him now. 
“Not s-supposed to touch,” you say, you voice the only thing giving away just how nervous you still are. 
“Don’t fuckin’ care, if I’m honest,” Joel huffs back quietly, his voice husky and breathless. You bite back a moan as his rough hands wrap around each side of your waist tightly and help guide you that last inch downwards, sending your ass fully rolling over his crotch. 
“H-holy shit…” you whimper when you feel the rough denim brush along the outside of your panties. You feel a flush run through you, your skin burning hot as you realize you won’t be able to hide how wet you’ve gotten for very long. It began slowly, just with his brooding, questioning eyes on you, now reaching a fever pitch as you’re in his space and feeling the prominent bulge in his pants. 
It’s been far too long since you were satisfied. Truly satisfied. 
Your breath catches as Joel fingers wiggle inward a little after hearing how much you’re getting into it, even closer to the waistband of your panties, the two of you facilitating the grinding motion together as you bear down a little more on his lap. Joel lets out a pleased hum, still somehow giving you the sense that he’s the one holding back now. His hands still have an air of respect to them, like they’re vibrating with the need to wrap completely around you and pull you to him, to roam your skin and grab at all the forbidden parts of you. 
When the thought flashes across your mind, you realize you want him to. 
“T-touch me…” you whisper, immediately clamping your betraying mouth shut as the words float out into the air. You hold your breath, waiting to see if Joel heard you.
“What’s that, gorgeous? Couldn’t quite hear you,” Joel says, his tone a low, mocking sound that tells you he’s baiting you, that he wants to play with his food before eating it. Your eyes narrow before they shut completely, rolling back when he forces your ass to move along his bulge again.
“F-fu- touch me,” you spit out a bit louder. “Please.”
“You poor thing,” you hear him tut from behind you, forcing your hips upwards and away before grasping onto your hands, turning you around to face him. “Can’t get us in trouble now, can we?” he asks tauntingly, his eyes giving you a heated staredown as they widen, almost looking sympathetic if there wasn’t so much of an appetite behind them.
You whimper, visibly whining as your face screws up, squeezing his hands with yours. Joel tugs, so lightly that you’d almost think it was your own idea as you start to come back down towards him, pressing the warmth between your legs against his thigh. You sigh shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly swing one leg over top of his and bear down a little more, straddling his thigh.
“We w-won’t… we won’t…” you breathe out, knowing it’s not the complete truth, but room seven is especially tucked back, hardly getting any traffic. In fact, it was known for bending the rules a bit. 
“She’s so needy, huh? You all wet for me, sweetheart, that it? She need a little relief?” Joel taunts, and when you open your eyes to meet his gaze, he’s practically pouting. Your cheeks burn at how desperate he’s making you sound, but your hips twitch of their own accord, sending a zing of pleasure up your spine and you whimper quietly again, giving yourself away even further. 
“Y-yes, Mr. Miller…”
“Keep on doin’ your little dance, pretty girl, jus’ right there,” Joel urges you, a hand finding the small of your back, the other locked onto your hip as you start to rock forward, then back again. Relief instantly floods you as your clit brushes against the ripples in the hard denim, making you move harder against him, mouth popped open in fresh ecstasy. 
“Close that mouth before I shove somethin’ in it, you fuckin’ tease,” Joel grits out, his eyes burning wildly, finally giving you a glimpse at how affected he is as he keeps his stare on your face, starting to sheen with sweat. Your mouth snaps shut, a stifled moan pulling from your throat and behind your closed lips, threatening to burst out of you.
“This ain’t against the rules? Havin’ a pretty girl ride my thigh?” he asks in cruel teasing, flickering eyes glancing down to where your hips are shamelessly rocking on him.
“I- I don’t - know-“ you choke out, your legs starting to tremble as the pleasure slowly, steadily builds deep inside of you. “I d-don’t care…”
“Riiight, she’s on her rebellious streak now, ain’t she?” Joel mutters facetiously, smiling a devious grin as he watches your face screw up in concentration. You truly don’t care, you can’t care anymore when whatever the hell is going on feels so good. Damn this job, damn Joel’s games, you’re going to get what you need out of this right now, too. Your head is thrown back as your whines and moans escalate, showing Joel just how close you’re getting. 
“That’s it, god you’re beggin’ for it, ain’t you? So dirty…” Joel’s hands grip tighter along your hips, starting to drag you inwards, towards his aching, clothed bulge. “Beggin’ for your daddy’s friend's cock while you make a mess all over his thigh, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought a good girl like you’d be wantin’ to get fucked by an old man?”
His words make you clench around nothing, the harsh tone making your insides twist in pleasure as you roll your hips a little faster. “F-fuck… I - I need to - Mr. Miller -” you plead aimlessly, feeling your core tightening, the obscene wetness driving you to full on madness as your pussy aches, cries out for Joel.
Your leg is being dragged over top of him, forcing you to fully straddle his lap, thighs stretched wide and burning at how wide you’re going to accommodate his huge frame. You’re in disbelief at the rough, needy noise Joel makes as soon as your cunt is pulled down onto him, Joel’s hands forcing your hips to start thrusting against him. You nearly lose your balance, wrapping your arms around his neck to hang on as he looks at you with determination. Hands planted firmly on your ass, squeezing hard as he relishes in the feel of finally having you like this, feeling your warm heat seeping through his denim right to where he’s desperate to have you most.
“Joel,” he corrects in his haze, stunting your hips to press down hard on his cock, sending a gasp flying out of your mouth at the sheer size of what’s to come. Your mouth is practically watering, so close to what your body craves now, what it needs. When your fingers graze the button of his jeans, he stiffens, seeming to snap out his lustful fog as he swats your hand away.
“Fuck… later,” Joel says suddenly, using every bit of self restraint to push you back, moving your heat from his bulge, the instantaneous lack of you devastating him to the core. 
Your brows quickly knit in confusion at the sudden change in course. “W-why…?” you whisper breathlessly, bringing your lips near his neck, kissing the rough skin, working your way up to his patchy, gray flecked beard. His hand is at the back of your head, yanking you backwards by the hair, tearing your lips off of him in a brutal rush. He holds you there, the pull on your scalp starting to prickle harder as you sit staring at him like a tamed animal being held up by its scruff. 
“Can’t fuck you properly in here. Too many fuckin’… people. Prying eyes wantin’ to see what all the fuss is about.”
“I-I can be quiet,” you retort, hating just how much it sounds like begging but the hold he has on you right now is so intense, so inexplicable that you’d say anything, you think.
Joel huffs, a tiny, incredulous snort coming out of his nose. “No, you can’t. Not if I’m doin’ what I plan on doin’ to you. We can’t have anyone come snoopin’, can we?”
You shake your head, suddenly wondering if he’s about to drag you out of here, take you home to his bed, or your bed, you think with a shudder. You feel a pull inside your belly, thinking you just might let him if you don’t get your head back on straight soon. 
“An’ you still gotta work the rest of your shift, make your money, don’t you babydoll?” Joel says with a smirk growing, making your face fall completely into a deep frown. “Call it a little punishment for bein’ such a bad, naughty girl, yeah? Then you can finish up givin’ me my piece of the pie.”
You find yourself gaping at him for the umpteenth time tonight in disbelief. He wasn’t going to just leave you… like this? Was he? You can feel your clit pulsing against your panties, your body tense and wound up, on the precipice of coming so hard you saw stars only a few moments ago. 
“Up, now,” Joel says, shifting his legs so that you’re forced to move, scrambling up onto your shaky legs, feeling like a newborn fawn getting your footing again.
“W-wait… I already - didn’t I… give you what you want?” you ask, suddenly feeling yourself snapping out of the heady, lust filled haze Joel had you in. This was insane, right? You can’t fuck him, you shouldn’t. It wasn’t right for either of you, and you’d been crazy to have just been this close to letting him stuff you full.
Joel’s head tilts, watching your slightly messy hair and smudged makeup for a few beats with a discerning gaze. “Nah, darlin’, you just gave me what I paid for. This is what I want.”
Your heart and stomach sink to new depths. “N-no. Joel! You said… if I gave you the lap dance you wouldn’t tell my dad. And I gave you a hell of a lot more than that -” Joel stands, interrupting you, coming forward and crowding your space, his hulking mass like a tower next to you, shadowing you with his commanding energy.
“Watch your mouth,” he snips, a hand gripping onto your wrist. “I’m the one callin’ the shots here, an’ I changed my mind once I saw just how pretty that sweet little pussy of yours can be. So here’s what’s gonna happen…” Joel’s fingers come up to ghost along your cheek, trailing down your neck, along the swells of your breasts as he speaks. You can’t help but shudder at the attention, how good it feels on your sensitive, needy skin.
“You go on out there, tell ‘em what a great job you did in here, work the rest of your shift like a good girl, thinkin’ about just how fuckin’ wet you got these pretty panties, how bad she needs a little help from Mr. Miller.”
Your breath is caught in your throat at his words, hitching further as his touch skates further down, sending your hips twitching forward. 
“An’ I’ll be waitin’ for you after, darlin’, for what I’m owed.”
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Your heart pounds as you slip out the side door and into the alleyway, pausing to let the cool night air wash over you as you gather your thoughts. Your mind is at war with itself, one half of you knowing this is a terrible idea, setting you up for complete disaster in the future. How could you ever face Joel again if you two took it that far? Then again, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to face him in the daylight already, anyways, without your cheeks burning so hot they caught fire. The other half of you was winning, had been winning as you worked the rest of your shift in a complete daze, hardly recognizing your own movements as your body burned hot and needy, mind completely scrambled by the conundrum of your father’s closest friend coming onto you and more.
You spent the rest of your shift coming to terms with the fact that you do want to fuck him. So badly. Even if it’s wrong, a complete mistake in every single way. You also know your mind isn’t to be trusted right now, running on pure horniness and desperation, never having been fucked in the way you know Joel could. His experience, his power, the way his lustful eyes had drank you in like the sweetest balm - it was all too hard to turn down. You turn, looking the opposite way down the alleyway from your car, starting to think you might be able to sneak around the block and get in your car and drive off without him noticing, wondering exactly where he’s waiting for you. You don’t see a soul, hear anyone else in this alley apart from the distant music from inside and chatter from along the main street which is a far cry from where the employee exit to Oasis dropped you. 
You take the risk, heart thrumming wildly as you start down the alley, saying a silent apology to Joel in your head, and then yourself for letting this secret come out, knowing Joel was definitely not bluffing if you didn’t follow through on your end of the deal. Better to face punishment from your father than have to deal with the consequences of fucking his best friend and facing the feelings that would come after. You’re only halfway down the alleyway before a warm, rough hand is slapped against your mouth and an arm is draped around your middle and tugging you backwards. A wall of muscle meets you and you whimper loudly behind the hand, starting to yell.
“Shh, shh, no screamin’,” the voice coos, distinctly recognizable. Shit.
“Tryna sneak off on me, huh, pretty girl?” Joel says next to your ear, his neck craning down to breathe you in, groaning. It’s so feminine, so light and soft, the faded scent of your perfume and body wash makes him instantly mad with need for you. His hand slips down, giving your lips some room to answer now that you’ve stopped fighting him, leaning back into his hold a little more.
“N-no,” you choke out, lying. “S-swear.”
“Didn’t change your mind? Want me to send those pretty pictures to your daddy?” Joel coos, starting to walk you towards the brick wall of the building, pushing your body forwards until you’re pressed against the cool, scratchy surface. You hold back a moan when his body leans into you fully, completely dominating you as you’re at his mercy against the wall.
“I j-just d-don’t think we should -” you utter half heartedly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, fearing what might come next after your suggestion.
“Why’s that?” he asks, dripping with condescension. “Seemed you couldn’t wait to get stuffed full of me not too long ago, yeah?”
“I-it’ll be weird after, w-won’t it? How can we… be around my dad? How can you?” You finally find your voice, your bravery, to ask him the question you’d been thinking the entire night.
A small chuckle blows past the side of your head from where Joel’s mouth sits against your head. “Think we both learned tonight I’m willin’ to keep a secret,” he says, his voice getting more harsh, a needy coarseness to it that sends goosebumps along your skin.  Joel feels a frenzy overcoming him when he notices your thighs clenching, how shallow and wanting your breaths are becoming now. He can’t wait much longer… can’t stand the torture he’s endured at your sweet teasing for a second longer.
“I-I want it…” you finally say in a harsh whisper, your resolve faded within seconds. Your ass ruts back into his hardness, an ache that hadn’t subsided in the least in the last hours as he waited for you. Patiently. Like he had already been all of these months. 
“You know I’m gonna ruin anyone else f’you, darlin’, don’t you?” he asks as his lips trace along your shoulder, now clad in a tank top that you’d changed back into. The bits of bare skin he touches taste like heaven, feel almost unbearably soft and inviting against his plush lips. He couldn’t possibly deserve any of this, but he couldn’t help but take it, anyhow. He could pay for his sins later. Your neck is next on his list, another supple spot of heaven to taste as he mutters the words again. “Don’t you?”
You just nod at first, dumbstruck by the feel of his lips, turning your head to try to meet them. “Yes,” you tell him softly, knowing it’s the truth, and there isn’t a turning back from this moment anymore. His lips are suddenly all there is, devouring your own whole as he takes in bounds, your tongues and teeth and mouths in a desperate clash, panting into one another as Joel starts to tug at your jeans, fingers flying desperately to tear them down.
You let him.
The second he’s pushing into you, you see bright white flash across your vision - that pulse of pain shooting through the very fabric of your being, your nerves lit up and screaming out from deep inside of you. Joel’s groan is barely audible through the ringing in your ears as he doesn’t stop, finding solace in your tight heat when he pushes himself into you in full. It’s heaven incarnate, you are heaven incarnate, he thinks, practically panting out the words as he feels your wet tightness pulling him in, walls pulsing as you adjust to the sheer volume that is Joel. Your cheek is crushed against the brick, mouth propped open in shock, the rough scrape on your face the only thing keeping you grounded as you whine out a long, wanton sound, something completely foreign to you.
“So… fuckin’... dumb on this cock,” Joel utters as he starts to move, a slow drag of his cock out and back in before he makes good on his promise to ruin anyone else for you, to never have a comparison to the blinding pleasure you feel rocking your entire universe as he quickly ruts into you. “Fuckin’ heaven.”
“J- fuck -” you stutter out, completely speechless. When one arm wraps around you, finding your clit, needy and puffy from hours of torturous edging, everything else melts away. The dark alley, the fact that you could be seen at any moment, the way you weren’t even sure you trusted Joel to keep your secret despite you following through on your end - none of it fucking mattered anymore.
“W-wanted this so bad, y’don’t know what you do to a man, sweetheart… Jesus fuck,” Joel says, uncharacteristically soft as his hips roll, sending your own bouncing onto his hurried fingers swirling along your clit. Desperation clings to the both of you now, hot and heavy air, hurried movements like this could be torn away from the two of you any second.
“Joel… I’m fu- I’m close, so close, please…” you rush out, feeling a pull of warmth at your center, his cock brushing along just the right spot to send you to that edge. You start to moan louder, the noise echoing in the open space around the two of you, your hand hurriedly slapping over your mouth to muffle it as the high starts to rock through you. His name screams from behind your hand, the sound still clear enough to send Joel to a state of crazed fervor, thrusting into you at an impossible pace, sending you bouncing harder against the wall. You twitch and shake, your eyes rolling back as you come harder than you have in months, maybe ever. Just like he’d promised, the absolute bastard.
“Fuckin’ creamin’ on this cock, shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” Joel marvels breathlessly as the obscene squelching of your bodies meeting only gets louder. “Oh, good girl, such a pretty, messy slut for a dirty old man, aren’t you?”
“G-god, yes, fuck… I am…” you whimper out with flustered nods, completely spent as you come down from your high, letting Joel use your cunt to chase his own now. You twitch at the overstimulation, your body still tingling pleasantly as he turns you into his own personal fuck toy, your body his for the taking. 
“Pretty as a picture, all fucked out like this,” he says slyly one hand planted on the wall next to you now, the other playing lazily with your aching clit. “Never gonna be able to give me up now, are you?”
You shake your head, lost in the moment with your answers as you feel another orgasm washing over you, less intense but still pleasant waves of pleasure rolling through while you gasp for breath, completely full of Joel each time he thrusts heartily into you, stealing away your air. 
“Please… c-can’t…” you mumble through your climax, hardly able to take the stimulation anymore but knowing the sick little part of your brain is happy to do it for him, let him use you until he’s completely spent himself. 
You don’t have to wait much longer for your wish, hearing Joel grunting, almost whimpering when he’s suddenly gone from you with a wet, slick pop, leaving you cavernous empty. He barely makes it out of you before his hand grips his cock, twitching in his palm as he comes towards the ground right in between your legs, ropes of cum coating your pulled down jeans and underwear, the brick wall, the pavement below you. His forehead is pressed to your back, sticky and hot as he catches his breath for a silent beat.
You’ve never felt anything like this, this satisfaction, this pure unadulterated filthiness and pleasure. The addiction already grips you, your poor, sore cunt already anticipating the next time he could ruin you. 
But then it hits you like a train, pulling you out of your reverent little bubble - this can’t happen again. It’s out of your system, out of his, and now you both have a secret to keep. You start to pull your pants up, the movement seeming to bring Joel to his senses, reaching down along with you. 
“Sh-shit, here, let me,” he says in a rasp, tugging your jeans up, the immediate feeling of wetness sticking to your body and making you cringe. “Little souvenir for ya,” he comments cockily, knowing his cum is now sticking to your skin, knowing that thought will sustain him for at least the next few hours. But that’s wishful thinking, he realizes, knowing that he could find himself buried in you the entire night, over and over again, considering hauling you away to do just that when you interrupt his thinking. 
“I- I’m sorry…” you mutter, not even fully sure of why you even say it. For some reason, you are sorry that you put the two of you in this position, even if it ended in something so incredible that you have a hard time even putting it into words. 
Joel spins you to face him, thumbing your chin and pinching it, bringing your face to look him in the eyes. They look a little softer than they had inside the club, more like the neighbor you’ve come to know. So charming and disarming when he wants to be. 
“Don’t be,” he says, leaning down to kiss you more gently than he had before, something tender and sweet that you find yourself immediately falling for, body melting into his as you hang your arms around his neck, wondering when along the way you started feeling so comfortable with this.
“Besides,” Joel adds, a devious smirk pulling his lips upwards. “Your daddy ain’t home for a few more days. Think we can find a few more ways to convince me to keep your little secret.”
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