#and would have had a few on night island
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Food in Venice is heavily seafood dominated, being that the city is man-made islands on the sea with no growing space of their own
Red Lobster was founded in 1968 and thus was already an established chain seafood restaurant in the US in the 70s and 80s
Armand enjoys having secondhand experiences via Daniel and would likely want to re-experience food familiar to him (seafood) served in 'modern' popular styles
Ipso facto, how many times was Daniel subjected to endless shrimp at different Red Lobster locations before the fascination of seeing the exact same restaurant in different places wore off for Armand and how unwell does the mere scent of cocktail sauce now make Daniel feel?
#this is calculus level vampire math#guys i think about them and tacky chain restaurants ALL the time#because most of the ones that exist today were established in the 70s#and they're so uniquely 'modern' american#i just think armand would be obsessed for a hot minute#and would have had a few on night island#for the tourists ofc#but also to satiate his occasional desire to see exactly where the limit of 'all you can eat' is for daniel#anyways i gotta think about feeding kink now goodbye#vc headcanons#armand/daniel
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It's funny that realistically, none of Leon's older versions are my type irl. Like, I know that he's basically the same (he's overall caring and responsible), but if I had to choose one of them, I'd always say that re2r Leon IS my one and only.
He's the closest to my age (just one year older) he's awkward, polite and a bit shy but so sweet and hskandkaks EXACTLY MY TYPE.
I'm not saying I don't like older leon. Literally most of my works are focused on either vendetta or death island leon buuuuut I'd get so shy if I had to speak to one of them. 😭😭
#— ࣪ ⊹ 🪐 ruby's thoughts#I'm really sociable irl BUT I GET SO SHY AROUND OLDER PEOPLE#soooo I wouldn't talk to any of his older versions#like how would I talk to death island leon without shitting my pants?#BUT HE'S MY FAVORITE#my pookie my baby who does no wrong i love him#i had this sitting on my drafts for a few days now#this is me rambling have a good night
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I fully believe that Total Drama's biggest crime was not changing it's cast every season.
#from judah's brain#total drama#i think if Action and World Tour had new casts with a few favorites returned Revenge and Pahkitew would probably have been better receivef#i rewatched the First 3 seasons recently and i think Action is my favorite but i think World Tour is the best#i don't think the drama in Action is very good and i think they could have better custom tailored a cast to that setting#i think action should have had an all new cast and then later on Owen being added back in should stay the same#i also watched all of revenge of the island last night and i have thoughts#i didn't like it overall i think#i liked some parts of the cast#wish Zoey had personality lol i read afterwards that she was supposed to be the indie girl and that just didn't come up#which is not good for your final 3#idk coming off of World Tour where almost every vote off feels earned it feels bad in Revenge where it feels like Scott is just destroying#i think the 13 episode seasons are also a limiting format and its sad to see that they're continuing with that even now#please tell me Ridonkulus Race is good?#i liked Dakota coming back as an intern but wasnt a huge fan of her being a competitor again#Also i get why they did it but i did not like the return of the legacy characters except for maybe izzy? Ezekiel should be dead#i think if the season had been 26 episodes it would have given more time to get used to the characters#i don't get why it wasn't#like i thought when i heard that it was because All Stars was produced as the second half of season 4#but it wasnt! it was produced as the first half of season 5!#which makes less sense because why would you producers all stars as the first half of a season if you're planning on introducing a new cast#that you could add to all stars in the back half#Pahkitew should be Switched with All Stars what happened#why does revenge only have 13 episodes#even like 2-4 extras would have helped the season a lot#and i know that's not how they green light things#but its not like they were trying to reach syndication anymore they had already got there with Action#if Revenge had been 26 episodes they would have been able to package it and World Tour together for syndication#i dont understand the buisness decisions here
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another day another horrifying nightmare!!
#kind of enjoyed this one though it was rly horrible but very cool#was working on a remote island with a big platform that went from the surface to deep deep deep underground#like the lift took a few hours to get down and back up (through the ocean and the earth)#and me and this team were doing research on some weird things happening down there trying to figure out why they were happening#and i was largely hired for stuff on the surface but things on the island were weird#the whole team would be in a room and then you'd hear footsteps upstairs#you'd be talking to someone and then they'd walk into the room and the original one u were talking to would be gone#you'd see these. idk ghostly figures walking really slowly around#eventually the entire team is in the underground area me included#and the lift starts going up as if someone up there had called it. and we're all like <:^(. and then the door handle starts rattling#the lift room automatically locked whenever it was in use to prevent injury but we were in the bit just outside the lift#so the lift stops at the top and whatever's at the door is now banging and kicking at it. one guy on the team is having a full on meltdown#and the lift starts coming back down. by this point some team members are like. trying to find weapons in the room to little avail#and the lift arrives. totally empty. and as it does the door unlocks.#and the door handle goes down slowly. and then as if whatever was doing it suddenly ceased to exist it jolted back up#turned out by the end whatever was down there in the caverns was creating like. ever so slightly wrong clones of us#they had tapetum lucidum and something else kind of disconcerting abt them and they absolutely hated their original#but i hadn't been down there long enough to have one#but we'd seen little glimpses of them every now and then. sometimes u could tell u weren't talking to the right one#and one day everyone came back up and they clearly weren't right and none of them were the originals i could tell#and i snuck down there that night and there was absolutely no trace of their bodies. blood trails‚ a few teeth‚ but no bodies#decided i wasn't going down there again but it was still kind of horrible on the surface. the footsteps upstairs were still there#the ghostly figures were still there and id wake up to them in my room. 7 of them. same as the amount of team members. staring.#ANYWAYS insanely spooky dream v cool
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Banished
jason todd x fem!reader
aka jason misses his girlfriend
warnings: extremely mild angst, he’s just mopey (he’s fine)
Jason sits slumped over the kitchen island, head lying in his crossed arms. His now soggy cereal disregarded after barely a few bites.
Dick’s been rummaging through the cabinets for the better part of twenty minutes and Tim sits atop of the nook table shoving donuts in his mouth for the better part of thirty.
Damian trudges past them to the nook bench, taking out a knife and beginning to whittle away at a block of wood.
He glances at Jason with a scowl. “If you’re going to be so miserable, can’t you do it in your own home?”
Jason just grunts.
He wishes. You and Bruce had conspired to trap him at the mansion for the week so he could heal from injuries sustained during the last mission without risk of him suiting up and sneaking away from you in the middle of the night.
It’s not even the fact that he’s basically being babysat that’s got him so disgruntled. He wouldn’t mind it at all if you were here too. But you were dead set that the manor was too far out of your way for work, so you’d stay behind. A lose-lose for Jason.
“He’s just mad his girlfriend kicked him out,” Dick teases, swiping through the fridge.
Tim snorts from the doorway, “Me too. He’s a lot more depressing on his own.”
Jason kept his head down as he blindly reached for the spoon in his cereal and chucked it at Tim’s head.
Tim catches it without thought, continuing, “A lot more irritable, at least. Why isn’t she here?”
“She’s gotta work,” Dick says, scanning through the pantry.
Damian peeps his head up from his project. “But Todd has a rather large supply of less than legally obtained money, does he not?”
“Yeah, but she said she wants to pay her own rent, I think,” Dicks hums, finally giving up on his quest for a snack.
Damian pauses.
“So she wants to live in a tiny apartment?” He asks, a mixture of confused and horrified.
“Watch your mouth,” Jason mumbles.
“It was a genuine question!” Damian protests, face screwed up.
Jason finally lifts his head up, turning to his little brother with a raised brows. “And I’m genuinely going to break your nose.”
It’s an empty threat, maybe. But it was enough to shut Damian up anyways. Jason turns back to his cereal and swishes the bowl around.
Dick rests his arms on the counter across from Jason and speaks lowly. “You know, it is just a few days. She’s coming back.”
“Yeah, whatever.”
Jason was never one for showing his feelings—let alone talking about them.
He misses you, plain and simple. Dick could see that much clearly, though the longing looked unfamiliar on Jason.
Bruce lingers in the hallway, just past the island, listening.
He’ll admit (to himself) that he’s worried about Jason. It’s been three days and Jason has yet to show a crack in this demeanor. And while it’s not uncommon for him to stow himself away, there is something quite wrong with the way he hasn’t countered his brother’s jabs at him or teased them.
And while he could do without the blatant threats, he’s proud to hear his son defending his girlfriend, even over trivial things. It’s one of the few moments where he feels like he did right by him as a father.
And now here’s his son, caring about someone else more than he cares about himself. Someone who’s a good person, no less. It had been your idea to trick Jason into staying at the manor, you were scared that he would push his body past its limit when you couldn’t do anything to help.
Bruce knew you didn’t feel great about basically banishing him for the week but he could see that you just wanted what was best for Jason. He could see it so clearly. Maybe Bruce could never have been a perfect father, could never have given his son everything he needed despite having more money than he could ever use. Maybe he couldn’t help him, even now.
But you could.
Bruce peers around the corner, leaning up against the doorframe.
He watches Damian give up on carving at his block and start into the leg of the table.
He watches the bickering that broke out after Tim grab the last glazed donut, which was apparently the only thing Dick could possibly fathom eating.
And he watches Jason.
As Jason’s phone lights up on the counter next to him. He glances down at it with a frown before his face absolutely lights up.
He scrambles to pick the phone up and starts typing away. A quiet action that catches the attention of all of his brothers.
He types and types, waits for ten seconds for a response and types and types again—smile on his face.
The Waynes didn’t need to be the greatest detectives in the world to know who he was texting.
✨ reblog fics or face the block button ✨
#jason todd loves his gf#jason todd x reader#jason todd imagine#jason todd fanfiction#jason todd fanfic#red hood x reader#red hood imagine#red hood fanfiction#red hood fanfic#dc imagine#dc x reader#dc fanfic#dc fanfiction#batfam x reader#batfam imagine#batfam fanfic#batfam fanfiction#jason todd x you#red hood x you#batfam x you#batfamily x reader#batfamily imagine#batfamily fanfic#batfamily fanfiction
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GO WITH IT
MARK LEE (이민형)
ABOUT 𓂃 ࣪˖ “have sex with me so I can finish writing this” inspired by this tweet or when mark offers to solve all your problems, it's much better to go with it
WARNING 𓂃 ࣪˖ language, mark is a bit of a slut, 18+ spiderman kiss (you’ll see lmao), allusions to fat cock mark… 😵💫, overstimulation, unprotected sex, mark’s name repeated like 78 times (no seriously, it’s up there), reader bent like a pretzel, orgasm denial, this author loves a comma, a pinch of softdom!mark, silly ending
PAIRING 𓂃 ࣪˖ bestfriend!mark x bestfriend!reader
WORD COUNT 𓂃 ࣪˖ 6k
AUTHOR'S NOTE 𓂃 ࣪˖ a little surprise drop for my favorite neo! i guess it's also a wee bit of a belated birthday gift to him :) i skimmed it for typos and stuff but i unfortunately did not edit it the way i should have, sorrryyyyy hope y'all enjoy! omg also reader's room is yu nabi's from the kdrama nevertheless hehehe
Nobody was busier than your best friend, Mark Lee. Between his job, his vibrant social life, and his weekly family dinners, you were lucky to be offered a slot in his schedule. It was always a yes to Mark Lee. Usually.
The last three times Mark had tried to make plans with you were all failed attempts, and the excuses varied each time. There was nothing shameful about the truth, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to tell him that your friendship was being thrown to the backburner while you sloppily attempted to get your life together. He knew all about your small business, taking commissions for art prints and ceramics, but he had no idea how much time and effort went into each piece. Besides, knowing Mark he would offer to help, and that wasn’t going to be of service to you in the slightest.
All you could do was rot in bed, hoping that something would spark your creative mind to no avail. Frustration was starting to take up every corner of your mind— from the nonstop orders that you couldn’t fulfill, to your supplier raising prices, to the fact that you hadn’t had a good date in two years. You were wound too tight to function, and any minute now you were going to start pulling your hair out in chunks.
The sound of the pin-pad at your door let you know that Mark was about to come barreling through. There were so many times that you’d be in strict creation mode, headphones in at full blast while Mark banged at the door pleading for you to answer; when it started to feel like a normal part of your routine, he just requested the code to let himself in. “Yo!”
Except, this time, none of that was necessary. Your headphones were stuffed in their case on the other side of the room, workstation completely untouched with your multiple projects stacked on top of each other. Despite the custom orders piling up over the last two weeks, you hadn’t had the artistic strength to move forward with any of them. The only thing you could do to buy yourself a little time was to post a message asking for patience and understanding while you navigate some vague emotional hardship. Realistically, though, it would only buy you another week or so before people would start to get angry.
“Hi.” Perched on a stool near the kitchen island, eyes locked on the cup of coffee you warmed up seventeen minutes ago, you were out of it.
Mark waved a few inches from your face, trying to get your full attention. “Hello? Earth to ___, are you okay?”
You snapped out of it, looking over at your best friend to see that he was dressed for a night on the town. “Sorry, got a lot on my mind right now.”
White, distressed tank top, loose plaid button-up undone, and his sexiest pair of black jeans. The way the meticulous curls fell around his face, looping around his forehead in a way that feigned boylike wonder. He looked oh so delicious, but you would never tell him that— his ego was big enough for the both of you. “Anything I could help with?”
A stifled chuckle barely reached his ears before you cleared your throat, turning toward him with renewed energy. “No, not really.”
Mark put his phone and keys down on the counter, taking a quick intermission to wash his hands before walking back over to you. He’d never been in your apartment in this way before— an unannounced hangout where you’re clearly just a stop along the way, being so underdressed in his presence. He’d seen you in a swimsuit before, but something about a big shirt and underwear felt far more intimate than the two strips of fabric. “This is like the third time you’ve curved me, if you hate me just say that.”
“Oh, you’re so fucking dramatic. I’m just busy.” You shoved at his shoulder, urging him to take a seat so you wouldn’t feel so awkward with him standing over you. He refused cooly, taking a look around your apartment to make sure you hadn’t been aimlessly rotting since the last time he stopped by.
“Even I'm not that busy. What’s going on?”
“I’ve just…” You sighed heavily, a breath you didn’t even know you were holding in. Talking about everything wrong in your life felt far too heavy, too much to divulge to a friend seemingly just doing a wellness check. “I think I’ve bitten off more than I can chew, and I’ve got all these creative blocks that won’t go away and honestly I just need to be fucked like properly fucked to get my juices flowing again but all of the men worth giving it up to are in hiding.”
Mark stood there, mouth agape in disbelief. He did ask, after all. “Woah.”
“Yeah.” It felt embarrassing to hear laid out like that, but there weren’t too many secrets between you and Mark in the first place. Your sex lives weren’t off limits for discussion, and the two of you had plenty of chats that were NSFW in nature. But blurting out how badly you needed to be railed? That was a new one.
The silence spoke for itself, apparently. You didn’t want to chance a glance up at him, but you knew that you’d have to say something. Maybe something to cover your ass, let him know that you’re well aware how ‘TMI’ that was. Or even—
“I’ll fuck you.”
You nearly choked on air,“What?!” Now you had no choice but to look at him, scanning the twinkle in his eyes in search of sincerity.
“I’m really good, too.” He took a step towards you, eyes never leaving yours as his hands found home in his shirt pockets. This was a side of Mark you rarely got to see— charming, smooth, confident. There were times, namely on nights out, where you’d get a taste of it, watching him chat it up in some dark corner with the prettiest girl you’d ever laid eyes on. But this, being on the receiving end? Watching his eyes drink you in like sweet tea on a balmy Southern summer afternoon? It was enough to make your heart skip several beats.
“Mark—”
The smile he cracks at you makes you embarrassed for even considering it. “I’m just messing with you, geez,” Heat takes over your face as you try to hide it from him, palms rubbing at your cheeks as your heartbeat tries to find its resting rate. “Although, given that reaction, maybe I shouldn’t be.”
“Shouldn’t be what?”
“Messing with you. Joking, rather. I can definitely mess with you, if you want,” Running so hot and cold in such a short window of time has you shivering under his gaze, scared to make the wrong move and ruin what you’d beg him for. “Hm? Is that what you want?”
The air is thick with anticipation, nothing but the consistent drip from a ceiling leak as the soundtrack to your staring contest with Mark. He was so close to you in all of his Friday night glory, cologne a cloud around you as the heat from his chest permeated your personal space. You were certain that just one taste, just one night in the throes of passion with a curly haired Mark Lee would solve all of your problems. If you closed your eyes, you could picture it— sweaty bodies intertwined amidst the sweltering heat of your studio after dark, the fanning of his breath in your face as he rocks into you, his strong frame caging you into the bed so all you can focus on is Mark, Mark, Mark! His sighs and whines of pleasure flooding your senses so they’re all you can pay attention to, just his voice and his unrelenting pace as he— “___,” The sound of your name on his tongue snapped you out of your lustful haze. “Offer’s about to expire, baby.”
Mark slipped his jacket off without breaking away from you, dropping it carelessly on the floor while your attention wandered to his arms. He seemed to know exactly what he was doing, crossing his arms against his chest as he awaited your answer. “You’re serious? This isn’t some cruel prank where if I say yes, you’ll tell me it was just a joke?”
“That’s not my idea of a prank, princess, where’s the fun in that?” Mark licked his lips, a faint smirk taking over. “Look, if you’re uncomfortable, we can pretend this never happened,” His fingers ghost along the side of your face, sweetly making their way to your lips. “But if it were up to me? I’d have you seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment.”
That was all you needed to lunge into a kiss with him, throwing him slightly off guard as you practically tossed yourself into his arms. But his lips were ready for you, steaming hot and sopping wet— just the way you like it. The smush of your lips together so suddenly garnered the sweetest moan from him, just enough to tease you of what’s to come. His arms wrapped around your torso like a claw machine, pulling you so flush against him as though he was afraid you’d slip through his fingers.
Your lips were still tingling as he pulled away to lap kisses against your neck, peppering anywhere his lips could reach. “M-Mark, hmngh.”
It was no secret that Mark had a bit of a reputation in the bedroom, but you never thought you’d witness it firsthand. His hands delved blindly to your legs, hoisting you around his waist so he could move you over to your bed. You almost had a mind to remind him of the three big steps up to your bedroom area, but he was far suaver than you gave him credit for— this wasn’t exactly his first rodeo.
He tossed you on the bed, the slight recoil exhilarating before he was all over you again. “If a proper fuck is what you want…” His kisses had shifted to your chest, lips and tongue sucking in the essence of your skin like he couldn’t bear not to. He was almost more excited than you were, his touch reaching anywhere and everywhere all at once, like he couldn’t get enough of exploring everything you had to offer. It was all starting to feel real as Mark made a move to lift up your shirt and the implication of your best friend seeing you naked caught up with you.
“Wait, wait. We’re gonna see each other naked.”
Mark, with the fabric of your shirt caught in his teeth, stared at you blankly. “Yeah…”
“Shouldn’t that be weird?”
He rolled his eyes playfully, squeezing at your hip with the hand closest to it. “Maybe, but how do you suggest we fuck then? Through my jeans?” He pulled your body swiftly down the mattress so you could feel how hard he was through your panties.
“Shut the fuck up, oh, my God.”
“I was trying to before you got all weird and jittery,” Mark made a move for your shirt again, and this time you didn’t fight him on it. The balmy air hit your pert nipples the second they were exposed, and Mark couldn’t stop the gruff noise that formed in his throat. “Just as pretty as I imagined.” You squirmed at the compliment, cheeks heating up at the sight of him drooling over you. “Like that? Hm? Are you my pretty girl?”
His lips wrapped around the peak of your breast, tongue swirling to the same pattern his thumb and forefinger followed on your other nipple. “Yes!” It was embarrassing, how fast you succumbed to his commands. He struck with confidence, maneuvering his way around your body like he’d done it before. “I’m your pretty girl.”
“So sexy saying that for me, baby,” Your legs part instinctually to make more room for him, and Mark took that as his sign to shift gears. “You know… sometimes, every now and then, I’d think about you. If I needed a little extra push towards ecstasy, you’d pop in my head. Think about the way you’d look if I got my hands on you. How you’d feel, how you’d taste,” His fingers prodded at the growing wet patch on your underwear. “Gonna let me see?”
Your back arched off the mattress, hands pulling him impossibly closer to you. “Mark, please stop asking, just do it.”
“Mm, say ‘please’ again.”
“Mark!”
His laugh would be even sexier if it weren’t at your expense. “Alright, fine.” Your panties stayed on as his tongue lapped at your folds through them, the flimsy cotton doing absolutely nothing to stop him from devouring you. You jerked at the feeling as his tongue licked a bold strip through your folds, your hands entangling themselves in his curly locs. “You’re so wet, holy shit.”
One quick motion moved your panties to the side, puffy wet lips on full display for his greedy eyes. His eyes sparkled at the sight, mouth watering at the mere thought of getting to taste you. “Smell so good, pretty girl.” He was so hungry and you were the only one who could satiate him. His tongue had a mind of its own, pressing flat against your folds without a second thought, “Taste even better.”
Mark’s grip on your thighs held you in place as he licked you clean, running his tongue against every nerve-ending he could feel for. He pulled them apart just enough to spread you out for him, just enough to be on full display for him. Your taste occupied every corner of his mind as he blacked out in pleasure, lapping up every drop your gushing pussy offered up.
He circled your clit until you saw stars, your squirming uncontrollable as his tongue darted inside of you. “You’re so good to me.”
Mark groaned between your thighs, in love with the praise you were showering him with. There was something about how natural and seamless it was for you to compliment him that turned him on even more, if that was possible. “I don't think I'll ever get enough of how you taste, Christ.”
His free hand slithered up your torso, sinking his thumb into your eager mouth while his continued working at your core. He wasn’t shy, either, licking boldly from your ass to your clit while shaking his tongue side to side. Slurping up every drop that dribbled out of your entrance, twisting his tongue as far inside of you as he could reach. You were dripping down his chin by the time he introduced his fingers, prodding at your glistening hole with just one to test the waters. He took the way you gripped onto his hair as his sign that you were more than enjoying it. “F-feels good, oh, God.”
“Mm, don’t be shy.”
Laving at your clit, he drank up the praises the way he was drinking you up. He only pulled away to fully discard your panties, diving back into center with renewed vigor. “Need more.” You didn’t want to push him any closer to you, scared you’d smother him, but he didn’t seem afraid to drown. He’d awoken something desperately greedy inside of you, and you were slipping further into a haze of pleasure with every passing moment. Two fingers pressed their way inside of you, pumping slowly to get you adjusted before the jerk of your hips told him to pick up the pace. You couldn’t hold still with the way he was devouring you, mouth and hands prying you open deliciously all for his enjoyment. He would die between your thighs if you let him, you’re sure of it.
You had to physically pull him off of you to get him to stop, orgasming bubbling inside of you in record time. “Want you inside of me already.” The entirety of the lower half of his face was a sticky mess of your arousal, from his nose to his chin completely covered in you. “Bro, you need to wipe… that.” Times like these, you were glad that you kept tissues on your nightstand.
“You cannot and will not call me ‘bro’ now that I know what you taste like. How insulting.”
It hadn’t dawned on you that Mark was still fully dressed, sans his plaid jacket-shirt that was curled in a sad pile on the floor. “Is that an order?”
He bit at his lip, eyes darkening as he drank in your bare figure sprawled beneath him. Your hands ran themselves up and down his arms, finally getting a chance to admire his body after all the focus was turned to you. Maybe it was the lighting, the way his hair fell over his eyes, or just the fact that he was the best kisser you’d had the pleasure of test driving— but he looked divine. Halo of light circling his head as he fumbled with his belt, biceps flexing as he lifted the tank top off of his lean frame. Suddenly, he wasn’t your friend anymore; he was something new entirely.
You were so lost in your own adoration of him that you hadn’t noticed he was undressed, pulling you directly underneath him as he kissed at your collarbones. “Where’d you go off to, huh?”
“It’s nothing,” you shook your head, snapping back to reality (which was so much better than whatever was going on in your will they-won’t they fantasy). “Thank you, for this.”
Mark didn’t respond with words, instead opting to kiss you softly, tenderly. Slowly, deeply, passionately kissing you as he lowered himself atop of you. He wasn’t in a rush anymore, pulling you into him like you were made of glass, grinding against your center like you had all the time in the world. Everything was so delicate, like he was savoring the moment for years to come. It scared you, if you were being honest. “Mark? You know you can still kiss me while you’re inside of me, yeah?”
He hummed in approval, connecting your mouths again in a slow, languid kiss, tongues slithering into each other's mouths and twisting messily. You could feel him lining up with your entrance, his hand wrapped around his girth to guide himself into you steadily. Chancing a look down, you tried to hide the way your eyes bulged out at the sheer size of him— he would never let you hear the end of it if you fawned over how huge he was. It took all of your willpower to remain still, your body welcomed him as though it had hundreds of times, the shape of him slotting inside of you like he was made to. His fingers tangled in your hair, angling your head so he could travel to your neck, groaning out his praise against your sticky skin. The absence of his lips on yours made you whine, hands wandering the expanse of his back just for confirmation that this was real. “Tell me how it feels.”
You couldn’t. Months of the worst dry spell you’d ever experienced coming to a head with Mark milking you for everything you had couldn’t be described. All you could do was moan, coiling around him even tighter as he started to rock his hips forward as though he was testing the waters. He was the only thing you could focus on— his scent, his taste, they way his nose pressed right against yours, the feeling of his fingers intertwining with yours against the mattress, the dionysian desire his hips were fulfilling. It was all just Mark, Mark, Mark. “Mark!” His teeth couldn’t resist nipping at your lip, pulling on it playfully before letting go to let his tongues soothe the area.
“I can’t help it, you’re so fun to play with.” He kissed you to make up for the quick dot of pain, relishing in the way you immediately kissed him back with just as much enthusiasm.
“I’m, I’m close.”
He spread your legs further apart to give himself more room to buck his hips, pressing at your thighs as he fucked into you faster. “Hold it.”
“Whyyyy?”
“You asked for the Mark Lee experience,” His thrusts grew pointed, almost exaggerated as his hips drove forward with precision, “and I’m gonna give it to you.”
You could feel yourself teetering dangerously close to the edge, stomach coiled tight and lungs working overtime. The mere thought of being denied your orgasm was getting you worked up— you hate not getting your way. Your legs wrapped around Mark’s waist, locking your ankles together for good measure. If he wanted to play games, you were down for it. “Harder.”
But instead of faster, Mark slowed to a complete stop, hands drifting down to your hips to pin them to the mattress. “Oh, baby, do you think I’m stupid?” He chuckled in your face, shaking his head as the laughter subsided. “That’s a sure fire way to get nothing.”
“Wait, no, please! I didn’t mean it.”
The damage had already been done. His patience with you was wearing thin, and he didn’t take kindly to disobedience. “Have you learned your lesson?” Each second that passed stole a piece of your orgasm away with it, that delicious ball of tension and heat simmering down to a cool pit of nothing the longer Mark held your hips down. Your heart stopped fluttering with urgency, slowing to its resting rate as you dealt with the consequences of trying to outsmart your best friend. “Speak up, baby.”
“Yes,” You hissed out, annoyed that your declaration of needing to be fucked was currently going unanswered. Who is he to deny you of the very thing he promised you? “I learned my lesson.”
It was exactly what he wanted to hear, “God, you’re so sexy when you behave yourself.”
You rolled your eyes, slapping his chest as he pulled away from you entirely. “What happened to ‘having me seven ways to Sunday all over this apartment’?”
It was Mark’s turn to roll his eyes, fingers running through his hair as he sat back on his heels. “Up against the wall.” You did as he said, spreading your hands against the wall as you felt him behind you, lining himself up with your sodden entrance. The inward arch felt unnatural at first, but you settled into it as you got comfortable in it. “Look up at me.” Mark was towering over you, quite literally. From this angle, all you had to do to see his face was look up and there he was with that devilish smile. His cock pressed into you as you watched him, the sheer thickness splitting you clean open for him, sucking him in like your pussy had been waiting for him. “Fuck, you feel so good.”
Maybe it was the taboo of sleeping with a friend, but your body was on fire. You felt your entire body heating up at the sudden change in his demeanor, switching your flirty best friend to a man absolutely starved. With your eyes screwed shut, you reached a hand out to hold onto his arm, fingers giving it a squeeze, head bumping the bare skin of his chest.
“Fuck.”
You were even wetter than you were while he had you pinned to the mattress, the feeling of being filled by him more electrifying after a brief intermission. He was all over you again and that was all that mattered, walls tightening around him with a vice-like grip that had both of you gasping for air.
“Shit,” he hiss, already lost in the sensation, “so good to me, ___, so fucking good.” He emphasized the last syllable with a gentle thrust that had your nails scratching at the wall. Your orgasm was building back up faster than you would’ve liked it to, considering you knew Mark wouldn’t let you cum so soon after denying you.
It hit you deeply, in all the right places at the right angle. Mark was that good from the start, and you couldn’t believe you’d been missing out on it. If you knew he was this goof, you would’ve ruined the friendship ages ago. “So fucking deep, Mark, keep going like that,” you moaned, just as caught up as he was.
He captured your lips in a searing kiss, fucking into you with much more vigor than before, gripping your ass with such force you half expected to see the dents after. You moaned all you had to say, all you had to feel into each other’s mouths. When his velvety tongue enveloped yours you could almost taste the remnants of your arousal and the chocolate muffin he ate right in between sweeping and mopping. The water was still running, hitting part of his back and your leg.
You couldn’t pull away from him even if you tried— he was a part of you now, molded into each other’s bodies until you became one. “Wanna keep fucking you forever,” he groaned, pouring his all into every touch. “Keep you on me forever.”
It threw you for a loop. Keep you forever? Mark was a lot more emotional than he let on, sure, but you couldn’t shake the feeling that he meant it in ways other than platonic. You couldn’t even stop him to ask what he meant by that because he was so deep in your guts that you were starting to feel him in your throat.
“Don’t stop,” you cried out, biting your lip when he hit a certain spot inside you and kept hitting it over and over again— the taste of blood didn’t stop you. “Don’tstopdon’tsopdon’tstop-”
“Fuck,” he whisper, voice strained and raspy, smacking at your ass before gripping it and bringing you down to meet his increasingly harsh thrusts, the slap echoing throughout your studio apartment. “Wanna fuck you forever, baby.” One hand kept its vice grip on your hip while the other grasped at your neck, forcing you to maintain eye contact with him. “Gimme a kiss, pretty girl.” Your lips found his despite the blurring of your vision, a supple lock as he steadied rocking into your core. Kissing him upside down felt worlds away from the first kiss you shared with him, and yet you still couldn’t get enough of it. The hand on your hip slithered up to cup your breast, rolling your nipple as he pulled away from the kiss. “So obedient.”
All the shame had disappeared from your body, the satisfaction of finally being fucked numbing you to his quips completely. His name was on the tip of your tongue, begging to be set free, but the way his hips ricocheted off your ass made you short circuit. Your skin was hot to the touch, goosebumps littering the expanse of your body as your toes curled around the fabric of your duvet.
“Who knew you were such a dirty girl, hm?” Mark tutted. You hold back your moans, reveling in the sensation of his tip sliding up and down you dripping folds. Interrupting his own rhythm just to get a rise out of you, giving you no warning before shoving himself right back in.
“Bet this was your plan all along,” You ignore the fact that he technically initiated all of this, too blissed out to snap back at him cheekily. “Dripping all over my cock, fuck.” He’s thinking out loud, eyes locked at the way your pussy invites him in, grip unrelenting with each thrust. He drew his hips back again to repeat the same unforgiving tempo, laughing to himself at the way your thighs shake in anticipation.
“Wanted this for so long.” You whine, bashful about the confession rolling off your tongue so easily. Mark had always occupied a special part of your mind, but the barrier of your friendship with him always kept you from thinking of him in that way for too long. He’s hot, sure, and one of the most genuine guys you’d ever met— but risking that by dating him felt too stupid to risk.
Mark didn’t keep you waiting for too long, filling you to the brim with one stroke that had your toes curling. You gasp, a shiver running up your spine as he adopts a frenzied pace that nearly knocks you into the wall in front of you. “You’re so fucking warm.” He can’t help but moan out at the feeling, clutching onto your hips as he pistons in and out of you. Blunt fingers digging into your skin as you let your body fall forward. You felt so full.
“Mark, fuck.” you whine, probably a tad too loud considering how thin the walls feel at night but you couldn’t help it, with the way he held onto you and fucked you like he had never had good pussy in his life. “Faster.”
“Where’d your manners go? Say ‘please’.” He teased, testing your obedience despite knowing you’d obey him. There was just something about knowing he held your pleasure in the palm of his hands, knowing that you’d do anything he asked of you.
“Please, please, please Mark, need you so bad.” It sounded pathetic, and it only makes Markn screw his eyes shut as he fucks you harder. All control lost as he watches the drool drip from your mouth down the wall— he was really fucking your brains out.
Mark's rough groans were slowly morphing into needy moans, the sound causing even more slick to build up between your legs. “Taking my cock like such a good girl.” And you really were, considering you had nothing but the wall to grip onto, you let your body go wherever Mark led it. Each thrust sending you closer and closer to your climax, his dick hitting every single spot that you’re sure you’d see stars.
“I’m gonna cum, fuck.”
“You’re gonna cum? Mm, you can cum. Cum all over my dick, lemme see that pretty face.” You arched inward one last time for him, looking up at the man sending you to heaven and back on a loop. “There you go. Good fucking girl.” Mark smacked your ass sharply, holding onto your ass as he switched his rhythm to harsh, precise thrusts that were sure to throw you over the edge of pleasure. He kissed your forehead as the growing tension in the pit of your stomach snapped, your walls contracting around him in a tight frenzy that nearly triggered his own. He didn’t slow down, though. The clutching of pussy did absolutely nothing to deter him from fucking you with the same rigor, hips just as quick as they were before he finally let you cum.
“M-Mark, I don’...” The aftershocks of ecstasy silenced you in your tracks, the sparks of pleasure like electricity through your bloodstream. “Don’t stop.”
He laughed at the change of your tune, thumb flitting down to flick at your clit. “Baby needs more? Haven’t had enough yet?”
Even with him poking fun at your desperation, you were too drunk on his cock to care. All you could manage was a chorus of fuck me, fuck me, fuck me as Mark held you flush against him. “God, yes, fill me up like that.” Your arousal was dripping all over the inside of your thighs, the sticky slick glistening under the moonlight that peaked through your curtains.
“That’s right, I’m not fucking done with you yet, pretty girl.” This side of him was lethal. He was insatiable, obsessed with the way your body responded to him, greedy for the way you bent to his every whim. It was such a change of pace from the way he was kissing you in missionary, the way he treated you like a doll that he was afraid of hurting you. “Feel good?”
He was mocking you— of course, it was good. You didn’t have to tell him that for him to know; but feeding his ego was so addictive. The way he’d reward you for praising him was enough for you to fall for the trap every single time. “So, good, Mark, hngh.”
The smack of his hips against your ass bounced off the walls, echoing the depravity that you and Mark were oh so good at acting on. All of your senses on overdrive, the overstimulation pulling at you from every end, you weren’t sure if you could take it all for much longer. Drool slipped from your mouth onto Mark’s arm, the edges of your vision blurring as you could feel yourself bubbling over. “Gonna cum again?”
“‘m gonna cum again.”
He was drunk with the power of controlling you. “Hold it.”
“Mark, I can’t.” You were surprised you were even able to do it the first two times he commanded it, not used to having gratification delayed against your wishes.
“Gonna fill you up and then you can cum.” It only took a few more targeted thrusts before he was spilling his seed into you, an endless leak of evidence of what took place over the last hour or so. Even as his cock began to soften, he made sure to fuck you through it, massaging tight circles into your clit until your legs spasmed. The air was snatched from your lungs, eyes flittering shut in sweet relief. It was only two orgasms, but the build up had really taken it out of you. Mark flipped you over gently on your back, brushing the hair out of your face as you sleepily opened your eyes.
“Look at that. Take a look at the mess we made, baby.”
He gestured between your legs, a slippery canvas of cum smeared across your most intimate parts. “So much…” You couldn’t stop yourself from gathering some on your fingers, popping them into your mouth for a taste of the two of you mixed together.
Your brain was on fire, neurons alight with the molten sensation that was Mark Lee. Even though you took him up on the offer, you weren’t expecting him to completely change your world. A solid orgasm and a pat of the back, maybe. But now you were afraid that he was your new addiction that you’d never be able to feed.
You woke up in a fresh sleep shirt to the smell of toasted bagels and coffee. Mark balanced the plates and mugs the best he could as he tackled the steps leading up to your bedroom area. “Mornin’ sleepyhead.”
“What time is it?”
He shoved a mug of steaming coffee into your hands, kissing you on the forehead. “Don’t worry about that. You were exhausted, wanted to let you sleep.”
“Thank you.” The coffee was exactly to your liking, just what you needed after a night of fucking like rabbits. “So, should we talk about… it?”
Blush rose to his cheeks and there was no hiding it, his hair pulled back into a messy bun so his face was on full display. “I mean, only if you want to? I’m okay with proceeding however you want to.”
“You’d be fine staying friends? Never talking about it? Pretending that nothing’s changed?”
He shrugged, “if that’s what you wanted, then yeah.” His attention shifted to his breakfast, eyes zeroed in on his eggs and toast like it was a gourmet meal. “Just don’t wanna make you feel weird about it, you know?”
“Mark?” You placed your coffee and plate down on your bedside table, turning your full attention to him as he continued to avoid your gaze. “What did you mean by all the ‘keep you forever’ stuff then?”
He rushed to try to explain himself, scrambling his words into a whole lot of nothing. “It’s not, like, a big deal or anything. I just get possessive… in bed, sometimes. I’m not a weirdo or anything, I promise.”
None of that mattered to you anyway, your dreams of Mark that clouded your head all night giving you the push you needed to throw caution to the wind. Would it be the worst thing in the world to risk it all with him? One kiss, chaste and sweet, was enough to shut him up for just a moment. “So if I said we should try exploring further, maybe go on a date or something, you’d say yes?”
His eyebrows shot up to his hairline, mouth falling agape as he searched your face for any signs that you were being facetious. “Y-yeah, yes. If that’s what you want.” He was so bad with his feelings, sometimes— but you were more than willing to be patient.
“Well, good, because that’s what I want.”
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strategic manoeuvre.
— WITH…ART DONALDSON!
contains...babysitter!reader, age gap, 18+ MDNI, art cheats w reader but it is lowkey implied that tashi planned the whole thing, car sex, semi-public sex, head (f receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, inspired by this post from @traumatrios
You had never been interested in tennis before Art.
You weren’t interested in sports at all, really — you just wanted to buckle down and focus on your college work, earn some money with an easy part-time job. You didn’t have time to follow sports, or anything else.
But then you got a call. You had been in the middle of a lecture when your phone buzzed against your notebook, a California number shining up at you and enticing you to pick up. Normally you would’ve let it go to voicemail, but you had recently gone around some of the fancier hotels in your city with flyers, asking for babysitting jobs and posting your number, so you excused yourself with a wave and took the call in the hallway.
You didn’t know who Tashi Donaldson was when she introduced herself, but the hotel she’d asked you to come to later that night was fancy enough that you didn’t question it. You had done an extensive google search afterwards, of course, but simply raised an impressed brow at her repertoire.
Then you met Art, her tennis player husband and the father of the lovely little girl you would be taking care of, and suddenly you were pretty interested in tennis.
It started when Lily had a bad nightmare and you couldn’t get her down — well, it started when you met the guy, palm sweaty in his own as he introduced himself, but it didn’t really start until you had to put one of his old games on the TV for the girl to watch until she fell asleep at your side, tear tracks from her bad dream dry on her cheeks.
You had been planning on carrying her back to her bed when she was down for the count, but you had been so fixated on Art’s movements; his determined look, his arms, his legs, that you ended up dropping out too. You woke up a few hours later with a blanket over your body and Art standing quietly at the kitchen island behind the sofa.
“You looked peaceful. Didn't wanna wake you.” He’d said, sipping at his tea, and you knew you were done for.
Now all of a sudden you had time to watch a tennis match in the morning, play one as background noise while you studied. You had started following his tennis journey right from the Junior Open in 2006 — you didn’t think you'd ever actually see him again, but you could fantasise about it whenever you remembered the smell of his cologne as he thanked you for taking care of Lily, promising a big tip would go straight into your account in the morning.
(The money went in fifteen minutes after you’d left).
It came as a pleasant surprise when Tashi’s number popped up on your screen once more, a few months later. You had been in your kitchen, and took the call the moment you recognised the digits.
“We’re a little ways out of town.” She’d said, “But Lily raved about you for days after last time, and we know you better than a stranger. If you can’t make it out here, don’t worry, but we still wanted to try our luck.”
We she’d said. As in her and Art.
You cursed yourself for lusting after a married man in the uber to the hotel.
From then on out, you became their primary babysitter. Since they travelled a lot, and Tashi’s mom was with them most of the time, you only really sat for them once every couple of months. The town you lived in was sunny and had a huge private sports centre for professional athletes — a fact you weren’t aware of until Art told you over a cup of tea — so they always came back. You were glad you could count on them coming back — it was like magic, the way your phone lit up with Tashi’s now saved contact whenever the late night bingeing of matches and interviews stopped fueling your infatuation.
The guilt was almost enough to make you ignore it, say you were busy or just get a new number all together. But you never did. As much as you knew it was wrong, you always dropped what you were doing and drove to that cushy hotel where the receptionist knew your face and let you in with a smile. You travelled that same memorised route to the master suite, knocked on the door and made sure you were standing far enough away from the peep hole that you didn’t look weird and distorted when Art would look through before letting you in.
It was always Art now. Tashi had greeted you a few times but lately it had always been him — a sick part of you thought she might’ve known about your crush on him, played with it for fun because she couldn’t play tennis anymore. But that was crazy, and you really needed to sort yourself out.
You would greet him with a smile, push through the small talk, lean up against the kitchen island and watch his shirt stretch around the planes of his back as he made you coffee (On those unlucky days he would be wearing a shirt. Sometimes he would be just done with warm ups and physio and would answer the door half naked and covered in sweat. Those were the good days). Then Lily would come running at you from her room, hug you around your waist and pull you in to play; Art would laugh and grin at you, sliding the coffee cup in your direction and holding your eyes before heading to his room to get ready.
You would be knee deep in headless barbies and chewed up polly pocket clothes when he and would return, dressed up and ready to go. He would lean down, kiss Lily on the forehead, and press his hand to your back in a silent goodbye. Then he would leave, and you would spend the whole day trying to pull yourself together.
He was married. He was ten years older than you. He had a child, and was paying you to look after her.
But he always made you coffee when you arrived — just how you liked it because he remembered. He always checked in on you, asked you how your life was while you nursed the mug that was warm from the beverage and his hands. He would tell Lily to behave for you because We like her, and we don’t want to scare her off. He would let his land linger on your back half a second longer every single time he left.
But.
But Tashi was the one who would call you. She was the one who made you coffee the first time, told you it was the least they could do for you. She would walk out of her room with Art, smile at you and tell you how beautiful you look in that shirt. She would grin at you before leaving, waiting patiently by the door for her husband to take his hand off your back.
You were evil. Truly. The guy was married.
But as evil as you were, you always made sure there was an old game of his playing on the TV when they would return — because then Art would prompt you to stay and listen to him talk about it. And you would have an excuse to lean up against that island and watch him make tea while Tashi excused herself to bed. Hours would pass before he was checking his watch and hissing out an apology for keeping you so late, and then letting you leave.
The first couple of times he’d simply make sure you got in your uber safely. Then he started calling cars himself, the same ones that would drive him and his family to and from matches, press events. The same sort of service celebrites used, not their babysitters. You didn’t mind — it was a thrill, listening to him ask the person behind the wheel to make sure you got back safely.
(The bar was under the court at this point, but at least you were aware of that).
But tonight was different. In more ways than one.
In the beginning, all was the same. You were left sitting on the plush carpet of Lily’s room surrounded by lego pieces, a burning in your gut and guilt in your heart. You played doctor, you made dinner, ordered room service after her relentless begging, put on a movie, carried her sleeping form to bed, came back and watched Art play tennis until he returned.
You had started to run out of games to watch, ones you hadn’t already seen, so settled for an old game from 2006. He was playing against his old partner, Patrick something, and you wondered where the lesser known second half of Fire and Ice had disappeared to after that night.
Then Art came back, Tashi right behind him, and you smiled at them both over the back of the sofa. Tashi watched the game, something unfamiliar glinting in her irises, before blinking back at Art, “I’m going to bed.”
He responded a little slower, kissing her goodnight and looking back at you, “Tea? This game was one of my most memorable.”
“Even though you lost?” You teased, leaning against the marble.
He paused, looking back at you. He blinked, “Yeah.”
You drank your tea. You pretended like you weren’t full of shame for standing that inch closer to him. You let him talk until he had nothing left to talk about, and watched him check his watch. You waited for him to pick up the phone and call the car — only he paused by the phone, hand floating just before it, and retracted his steps to the kitchen, “I’m gonna drive you back, if it’s not too much trouble. Saves waking up my driver.”
“Oh.” Your fingers twitched, and you told them to stop. “Sure, of course.”
Art’s car wasn’t what you had expected. Thinking back on it, he didn’t seem like the sports car type, but his status and riches led you to assume you were about to get into one of the two seats in his Bugatti — you didn’t. The black jeep was expensive enough for someone like him, but close enough to home that you didn’t feel like an outsider climbing into the passenger seat.
The drive wasn’t all that far — twenty minutes both ways, so Art would’ve been back before Tashi fell asleep if he hadn't pulled into a parking lot five minutes out.
Your lips parted, eyes following his hands as they slid slowly off the wheel and into his thighs. His chest rose with a deep breath and his jaw constricted when he swallowed. Then he was looking at you, eyes piercing.
“Lily likes you.”
You were unsure, feet shifting beneath you, the sound encasing the silence of the space and forcing you to stop and blink, “I’m glad. I like her.”
“Tashi likes you.”
You weren’t too positive that she would like you if she could feel how you were feeling now — that all too familiar heartbeat pulsing between your legs with every one of Art’s breaths.
“I like you.” He finished, tilting his head until his temple rested softly on the headrest of his seat. His smile was almost taunting when he undid his seatbelt, “Which is your favourite?”
“What?”
“The games.” He clarified, knowing his question was too broad and that you would have to ask, “The ones you watch every time you’re over. The ones I assume you watch even when you aren’t sitting for us. My games. Which is your favourite?”
“Oh. Um —“ Slightly distracted by the way he shed his jacket, dumping it in the backseat. He’d lent all the way forward to take it off and his eyes didn’t leave yours once. “I don’t know.”
“The one you were watching tonight.” He asked then, “What’d you think of it? Honestly.”
“Honestly?” You swallowed, mortified that you were even entertaining this, “You looked a little distracted.”
He huffed a laugh, finally looking away and letting you breathe. It didn’t last long, because he was then getting out of the car and rounding the front of it.
The breeze was cool when it hit you, Art blocking most of it from where he stood in the gap. His hand was still on the handle, but you were busy unbuckling your own seatbelt — the message had been received, you had crossed a line and he was kicking you out of his car.
But when you turned, legs swinging carefully into the cold, his hand on your knee stopped you from really getting out. Your eyes snapped up to his, and you realised you had been caged — with one hand on the door and one hand on you, Art Donaldson had you right where you had been dreaming of him having you. It felt surreal.
“My opponent. In the game from tonight.” He breathed, glancing around casually like you were having one of your simple conversations over tea. “He slept with my wife.”
Out of all the things…
“What?” Your eyes darted between his, but the rest of your body otherwise remained still. Even when his hand on your knee travelled upwards.
“He’d slept with her before. In college. We weren’t together then.” He was now watching his hand move, like he wasn’t the one moving it, “But then he slept with her again, in Atlanta. After I’d already married her.”
“Wow.” You breathed, mainly because it was the easiest word you could slide out of your mouth whilst holding your breath. His fingers reached your thigh, begged to dip between them. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be.” He was quick to respond. Your legs parted on instinct, and at this point you had surrendered to being an awful person — although maybe you’d fallen asleep on the couch and this was all a dream. You didn’t think you’d be able to face Art if it was. You couldn’t even face him now.
He took the newfound space for granted, stepping between your legs and holding them open with his body. His hand on the door followed him, taking its new place on your other leg. He rubbed up and down your thighs, but you couldn’t look away from his face.
“I don’t want you watching him play.” He spoke lowly, tracing his fingertips around your waistband, “I’ve seen enough of his games.”
“Okay.” You didn’t hesitate to let out, swallowing the hungered saliva that had built up in your mouth.
He unbuttoned your jeans, pulled the zipper down — painstakingly slow, but it allowed you time to brace your hands on the seat and the dashboard so you could raise your hips and let him slide them off you.
You were stuck in your head, but Art didn’t seem to notice since he was too busy folding your jeans and hanging them over the open car door. You dared question it through a heavy breath but he just moved on to your panties, throwing them precariously on the dashboard and exposing your glittering cunt to his bright eyes.
“We shouldn’t —“ It was a half-assed attempt at reconciling with your guilt, but the fact that you were half naked and spread eagle made it lose its meaning.
Art shushed you, kneeling down so he was looking at your pussy, “We can, and we will.” Then he glanced back at you, brow arched, “Unless you don’t want to.”
Any sense of rationale had fucked off when he put his hand on your leg, so you swallowed and said, “I want to.”
He wasted no time, licking a thick stripe from your asshole to your clit. You knocked your head back with a gasped moan, bucking into him and hissing when the gear stick poked you in the back when you led back too far.
You let out a shaky breath as he lapped you up, tongue dipping inside of you before travelling up to that sweet spot and sucking at it gently. You gasped and moaned, hands scrambling between holding yourself up and holding him down. His own were resting on your thighs — his calm and collected demeanour was a drastic contradiction from your own.
His head nodded calmly between your legs, relaxed in its position — yours, shaky and tense all at once, neck bracing whenever you fell back. His hands tapped soft melodies on your skin whereas yours tightened around whatever was in their old, whether that be the leather of the seats or the blonde of Art’s hair.
When he finally came up for air, his chin was coated in your slick, and he licked his lips clean before straightening up above you. You watched, paralysed, while he unbuckled his belt, threw it over the door with your jeans, and sent you a look under his lashes that you’d only seen him wear during his tennis matches.
You had been keeping quiet earlier, but when he bottomed out inside you and started to piston, your mind went wild. Choruses of Oh my God and Fuck!, shouts of Art’s name and whimpers under your breath — it all came tumbling out and you couldn’t even try and stop it.
Not that you wanted to; your vocality seemed to make him go faster, harder. It made him vocal, no longer calm and relaxed as he had been when eating you out, but loud and gruff. Grunts and moans you had dreamt about hearing outside of a television screen, now being huffed into the air you shared.
You came with a whine and Art followed not long after, and you settled there for a moment — legs spread in his passenger seat with him standing between them — until you could muster up the strength to push yourself up.
Five minutes later and you were both dressed, Art’s black jeep parked outside of your apartment building. You hadn’t exchanged any more words, but when you turned to slam the door once you had jumped out, you found his eyes on yours.
“I have a game this weekend. Two hours out. Tashi wanted you to come. A gift, for all you’ve done for us.”
(You went to the game. Art won. Tashi grinned like she’d made it happen and then offered to buy you a drink).
divider by @cafekitsune !!
#art donaldson#art donaldson x you#art donaldson x reader#art challengers#art donaldson smut#babysitter!reader#challengers#challengers movie#@lia’s works#tashi duncan
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rafe, his fiancée and their family in the 18 month gap between s3 and s4
“What do you think about another baby?”
rafe is ecstatic about the prospect of another kid, and he shows it. he’s constantly spoiling his girl, always doting on her and helping her around the house. he makes sure to hire staff around tannyhill and ensure she doesn’t have to stress, making sure to spend time each night with his family despite the chaos of his day. rafe knows her first pregnancy wasn’t the best (bc of him) and he wants to give her a whole new experience
high school gf was worried about telling him she was pregnant again, knowing how badly it all went the first time. she knew rafe had grown to love his son and his family, but she was still apprehensive about his reaction, knowing he was in a stressful period of life rn. she didn’t have anything to worry about however, seeing straight away how different rafe was with her now. he loved being a father and was so keen to have another baby, especially now everything is his, and he can provide for his family the way he wants
baby no. 2 was a girl, just as rafe wanted. he already has little charlie, who is a carbon copy of himself, but he wants a little girl who looks just like her mother. rafe already loved to stare at his fiancée’s face, but imagining her looking after a mini version of herself - rafe thinks he might die.
as his fiancée and mother of his child, high school gf is living good. rafe is struggling with his father’s death, but mostly, they’re happy - really, really happy. charlie is starting to speak, and he is so excited to have a baby sister
oh you know the jokes are going around the OBX about how rafe just can’t keep it in his pants (but who could blame him when his girl is just so hot)
rafe doing the absolute most to have his fiancée relaxed and resting at all times - he loves to take her out on the boat and let her lay in the warm sun, especially because she gets so clingy when she’s sleepy and calm
rafe who begins to secretly hunt for a new house for the family to move into, wanting a new space just for themselves. tannyhill had too many bad vibes and rafe wants to start fresh
the family are often seen out and about the island with little charlie either toddling in front of his parents, or being swung in between their outstretched arms
charlie becoming known by those on the island as a cheeky little boy, always pulling faces and trying to play with everyone
rafe watching his girl get closer and closer to her due date and growing more and more anxious - he was so coked up the first time that he never really worried, but now he is always hovering and checking in on their baby
rafe is there for this delivery!! he's 100% holding his fiancée’s hand and brushing her sweaty hair out of her face, whispering "you can do this, baby, you've got this"
the nurses let him cut the cord once his daughter is born and he is definitely crying and trying to subtly wipe away his tears
the whole family spending the next few weeks hiding in their new house enjoying their first moments with their new little girl
rafe picks her name and decides to call her emmeline, emmy for short
if any family ever gave off rich vibes, it's the cameron's. rafe has his kids dressed to the nines, nice cars in the driveway of his new house and his fiancée wearing the nicest jewellery
all the women on kildare being so jealous once they see sexy muscular rafe cameron fussing over a tiny little baby, emmy clutched tightly in his arms as his fiancée holds charlie's hand
rafe would never admit it, but he loves the looks he gets when he walks around his little girl - he might be loyal but he still likes to be reminded he's hot sorry not sorry
wedding time!!!!
i think their wedding is actually very casual, maybe even a holiday elopement
rafe doesn't really like the people in the obx that much and so when his girl suggested getting married somewhere quiet, just the two of them, he was like "mmm, why not?"
the pair get married on a private beach in hawaii, rafe in a loose white shirt and a pair of linen trousers, his girl in a silky dress (this is so serious to me)
they hire a photographer and definitely put a big wedding pic on their hallway wall
everyone in the obx knew it was coming (bc they were engaged) but people are still a little shocked that the high school couple actually got married?
i see them settling into a nice routine once back, really just wifey looking after their little family, rafe running cameron development and the family spending all their time together happily
idk i'm just very passionate about the concept of rafe being loved and giving love in return bc it's clear he's capable of it, he just needs to feel safe and nurtured
click here for pre-season 1 rafe, gf & their unborn son
click here for season 1 rafe, gf & their son
click here for season 2 rafe, gf & their son
click here for season 3 rafe, gf & their son
click here for season 4 part 1 rafe, gf & their son
#rafe cameron x reader#rafe x reader#rafe cameron imagine#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe imagine#rafe x oc#outer banks x reader#rafe outer banks#high school gf! au#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron outer banks#rafe cameron#rafe fanfiction#rafe fic#rafe obx#outerbanks rafe#rafe x you#outer banks fanfiction#outer banks imagine#outer banks headcanons#outer banks#dad!rafe au#dad!rafe
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──𐙚 brothers best friend - request, club vibes, fluff
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content: JK is yn´s older brothers bestie, clubbing, mini sexual banter, teasing, make out, humping, chest play, confessions , childhood friends 2 lovers, biker JK, movie night, pining mutally, hopeless romantic reader, FLUFF
note from cherry: cloud anonie, this is a lot more cutesy than u requested, but i hope that's okay!!! Mwa!!
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Fleeting, a look of tension is sent your way, a familiar pair of eyes being the messanger
Jungwon is a good older brother; caring, supportive, kind. Even introduced you to his friends, let his two year younger, kind of loser sister hang out too
Talk for hours about video game interests and never really understanding the jokes until she got old enough, still, always sharing a laugh.
His best friend, Jeon Jungkook, is the complete opposite. Someone you have grown up with and always hated the guts of.
A huge ego, sexual jokes, a player who shamelessly stared at every pair of tits he saw, yours included. A guy who, honestly, didn't fit into the working class, grateful life you and Jungwon live.
Somehow, you found a way to enjoy his company, grown acustom to his banter and flirting, adapting to his sense of humor and finding yourself get a little bit excited whenever he announced he would be coming over
Nonetheless, he had always been around. For every birthday after jungwon turned 7, Jungkook was always there. Every holiday, every special dinner, countless weekends, sleepovers, parties, homework.. you name it.
Through the transformation of childhood to embarrasing teenage phases and crushes, now adulthood, young adulthood
22 isn't that grown up yet, Jungkook is closer with 24, however his mind hasn't aged since age 14, not to your understanding
The point is, he has always been there. In your life, your home, your heart.
You still remember when both of you were teens, sitting alone at your dining table and listening to him explain algebra to you,
You didn't understand a word though, distracted by the big brown doe eyes his face came with.
To be completely honest, Jungkook had been your crush from childhood.
Sure, you hated the way he did absolutely everything but you adored it at the same time. Jealous when he talked about his hook ups and that one serious girlfriend he had,
Hurt when he complimented your looks but would call you annoying afterwards
Your brothers cool, older best friend who came over almost every day.
From finding him pretty as a little girl to humping your pillow thinking about his shirtless body as a teen, the way in which Jungkook showed up in your brain always changed with maturity,
It had been clear however, that your attraction to him is more serious than purely physical, given that it had been years
It took a few exes to take your mind off for sure but at the end of the day, you would always come back to wishing the lips on yours would belong to someone else
The someone that's currently in your kitchen, drinking a glass of water and scanning over the miniskirt on your body
"Where are you going?" he asks, leaning his fully tattoed arm against the large kitchen island,
"You sound like Jungwon" you say, gathering up the coat you would wear to shield yourself of this breezy night.
He cocks his head, "i watched you grow up, i think i have every right to sound like that"
"hmm, sure. Going to a bar" you reply, putting on the black high heels next to the front door
Truth be told, you were going to a bar to attempt at meeting someone to leave with.
After years of pining and useless hope in his flirtatious nothingness, enough is enough
Enough of falling over Jungkook.
"A bar? Alone?" his muscular arms cross over his chest, grey tshirt bulging along his flexed bicep,
Was he working out more?
You nod, replying "yep" with a popping p,
He humms,
"Can i join?" his smile is infuriating, innocent and almost making you question if that was a sincere thing to ask, you giggle,
"Seriously? No?"
"A shame. You look sexy, be careful out there" he nods his chin upwards, disappearing into the depths of your brothers bedroom once again.
"He called you sexy, stop kidding me" she exclaims, rolling her eyes and throwing back yet another shot
Going out alone didn't work when you panic dialed your best friend,
The bar bustling with pretty girls and handsome guys entertaining them,
Searching for a manly snack to take home, you double take with every sleeve tatto having guy,
Looking for a piece of Jungkook in each one of them
"It's nothing nayeon really, he's always like this"
She widens her eyes, crossing her arms in front of her chest,
No bullshit with nayeon, if someone was gonna feed into your thoughts or pull you straight from delusion, it would be her
"No. No its not, he never called you sexy so casually. He didn't make fun of you this time. He said YOU LOOK SEXY" she empathizes the last sentence by tapping her hand on the table, Scoffing with her words
"Okay yeah, but come on?" doubtful about the possibility that he would return your multiple year long feelings, this conversation is seemingly going no where
"What?" She asks, rasing an eyebrow
You take a sip of your untouched mojito,
"If he liked me back, he would have said something. He's jungkook after all yeonie"
the sigh escaping your lips compliments an array of people leaving the club with little whispers and kisses,
Slow, quiet hushes of passion trailing out with them, leaving behind a yearning wish to feel what they must have felt in this moment
Having found love and lust in one place, taking it home, possibly cherishing it
Turning your head back to your best friend in front of you, her face glimmers in the dim light of the bar,
"I think he's been trying to show you for a long time" she says, pausing for a brief second before her face lights up
"Isn't it Jungwon's birthday next week?"
You hum, then tell her that he's planing to go to the club,
"Do you want to join too? He wouldn't mind" you ask, knowing that Jungwon always likes as many people around as possible
She nods happily, giving you her bright smile once again,
"I'd love to. Maybe you should try to get closer to him. Just try, it's gonna be okay"
Advice is often easier to give than to recieve and follow through with, especially when a good friend is on the line
Saving her from the immediate worry of absolutely embarrassing yourself when you attempt to grow closer to kook, you just smile,
"I guess it won't hurt?"
"Yeah," she replies, "maybe it will feel good"
You leave the bar without a man to fulfill a spot that wasn't molded in his shape to begin with
Slowly, the front door closes with minimal noise, only the tv playing from the living room can be heard,
Illuminating the hallway with bright, colorful flashes ever so often, you walk in without your heels and in your closed coat,
Gazing torward the large grey couch, it's occupied by your brother peacefully sleeping on one end, snoring away like it's the best sleep he's ever had
His best friend sitting a bit further, awake and attentive to the movie playing on the screen,
A rom-com you've seen dozens of times
He glances at you with a small smile, patting the space next to him,
"How was the bar?" he asks once you're planted down next to him, a strand tucked behind your ear while you let your eyes dance on the delicate features of his face
"Good, met up with nayeon" your reply only makes him nod in return, silently mustering your body up and down,
You can't tell what's behind this look,
"Movie night?" your question falls naturally to make up for the tense silence between the two of you, having long forgotten about your sibling a mere two meteres apart
Until he mentions him again
"Yeah, but hyung feel asleep as always"
With a small giggle both of you look at him,
"Typical" you say, rolling your eyes
"Wanna join me? It's pretty lonely down here"
There's a moment where his eyes stay lingering on your lips, bottom one tucked under your teeth
"Sure, i'm gonna go change first" he nods again, granting himself premission to gaze at your legs when you walk up the stairs, the silver ring in the corner of his lip now wet from being toyed with,
When you're back down in a comfortable lounge outfit and without your make up, Jungkooks breath stalls,
"Ah! Scared me" he teases, a playful smirk planted on his plump lips,
"Ha ha jeon" the face you make is enough to make him giggle, nose scrunching up and tongue sticking out
"I'm kidding i'm kidding- ouch!" exclaming dramatically while clutching his chest, he makes a fake sobbing noise before breaking out into the same laugh you're captured in,
"I was really joking, you look beautiful" he says, still focused on your bare face,
Without a second thought just hum mockingly, signaling you took it as a joke as much as you are offended
"Sorry, sorry princess" the tone he uses for your nickname is sultry, low and sounds like something you'd always imagined him to say, maybe even to whisper in your ear and make your spine tingle
Every bone in your body goes limp when you feel a muscular arm wrap around your shoulders, pulling you into his firm chest,
His head is tuned to the tv, silently, without a word to utter at last you watch the movie,
Getting comfortable with the position, you're breath is still a little ragged from the sudden move, his hands now playing with strands of your hair, gently moving them around
"What's with the heavy breathing?" he says, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear and pinching your cheek,
His eyes stay on the tv, knowing he wouldn't contain himself at the sight
You're looking up at him, glancing over the tv's reflection in his big, brown eyes,
"No idea what you're talking about" your reply is close to a whisper, still adimiring the man that's holding you near,
He chuckles, patting your head
"So the staring is probably nothing too right? Come on, you're missing the movie princess" his note comes with a little smirk,
You laugh softly, mumbling out your words
"I've seen this movie a million times"
It wasn't the first time you two cuddled either, while watching a movie he used to pull you closer. However, it had been a while since then,
You must have been 18 the last time it had happened, your reaction then no different to the one now
Rosy cheeks and a racing mind, going places far from the reality of simply laying in his arms
Remembering how you told yourself that this is enough, this is all you would want and need,
It didn't stay that way, desire of things to experince with him only growing with each passing moment of proximity
The two characters of the movie kiss and naturally you smile, entraced with the love they share
Entraced with the desire the guy feels, a spark igniting within your heart to feel this type of kiss,
Lost in thought, you don't seem to notice how Jungkook's head has turned so he could look down to your precious smile,
Contemplating wheather or not to just risk it all and pull your chin up for a kiss, upon seeing the way you melt for the love shown on screen, he wanted nothing more but to make you familair with the feeling
Get you used to what he had been wanting to give you for years
His heartbeat increases, thumping with the thought of feeling your little smile against his lips,
You do notice however, how much quicker his heart is beating, pressing your head closer to his chest,
It must be because of the loving scene, after all, once you did look at him, his head had been turned back to the tv
He decided not to risk it all,
if only he had contemplated a little while longer.
Proud, confidently gesturing to the girl he's engaged in a conversation with
He adjusts his leather jacket, leaning on the counter with his back and casually putting his hand in his pocket,
The pretty girl in front of him smiles, tracing her fingers on his arm
You're left dumbfoundedly looking at nayeon,
"See?" you say, a sad smile dripping from your lips
You can barely make out nayeon's reply though the blaring Club music, people pushing torward the bar left and right
She tells you not to worry and come dance,
You agree, turning your head to look at Jungkook one last time, wishing to see him alone or talking to Jungwon
Instead, he's still busy making another woman laugh
Today was supposed to be your last chance at growing closer to him, your time to laugh and dance with him
You were supposed to go home with him, kissing him wildly at your doorstep and hiding from your disapproving brother
Now, you're swaying your hips with a random guy you haven't seen the face of, searching for your older brother in the crowd
Nayeon is dancing with her boyfriend, giggling, holding his hand that are placed on her hips,
You wanted that to be you tonight,
Jungwon sees you and smiles, assuming you finally let someone near you after being alone for a while,
He does judge the guy, letting you know that he's keeping an eye out for you, before he turns back to conversing with his friends
The music grows louder and so does the feeling of sadness that's being chased away by alcohol and strangers around you
Meanwhile,
"Oh there she is" he smiles, nodding towards you, he could only make out your hair from the back, long and silky as it sways with the music
"Ahh, wow she's pretty" the girl says, giving Jungkook a thumbs up
"Who is?" Another girl chimes in, wrapping her arms around her girlfriend that had been talking to Jungkook the past ten minutes,
An old friend he met coincidentally while she's clubbing with her partner
"His crush, the girl over there" she signals, pointing her finger to your figure, dancing with the guy you haven't met
With his replacement, his never fulfilling replacement
"Oh wow she is but, who's that guy?"
Jungkook's eyes fall, smile turning into a clenching jaw, moving his body up immediately to get a better view
A view he didn't like seeing,
You looked absolutely gorgeous, a short, soft pink dress draping down your body, stopping mid thigh
The curve of your waist perfectly on display, light pink blush on your cheeks only adding to the glow you extent,
But your face doesn't match, he doesn't find the same glow radiating from it as he does from your body
"I gotta go, have fun minnie, you too!" He shouts while looking back, already pushing his way through the mass of people just to get to you,
You spot him too, alone, smiling with a worried expression when you make eye contact,
He snatches you away from the guy while pulling your hands in torward him, sneaking his arms around your waist
"You okay?" he asks, gently swaying the two of you around,
Your heart lights up, already sewing itself together with what you believe to be false hope
Still, your hands press on his shoulders, moving your hips to the music
The alcohol in your system not nearly enough to have gotten you tipsy
"Yeah. Why?" you reply, smiling at the way his eyes seem so focused on your face,
He glows beneath the colorful lights,
"You look sad dancing with that dude" he explains, pulling you in a little closer
A smile hits your face again, you love that he noticed, you love that he watched you
"I was sad you were busy"
The boldness of your claim takes him by surpirse, chuckling at the unusual comment
He didn't know if you were serious, but he wanted to keep playing your game
"I was talking to my friend, waiting for you actually" he winks, spining you around once before you stumble against his chest,
"Oh yeah?" You laugh, focused on his little foot movements, the dance is becoming second nature, much like your back and forth
everyone disappears when he smiles down to you,
"Yeah, she and her girlfriend said you look pretty. We all agreed on that, maybe we do have a lot in common"
Suddenly, the weight of a thousand stones have been lifted from your heart,
A fresh breeze blooms within it, filling you with what you can only call confidence and hope,
Although it feels more secure than hope, almost evidently factual,
Both of you realized it in that very glimpse
"Wanna get out of here?" he whispers into your ear, having wrapped both of his arms around you, pulling you flush to his chest
You nod, biting back a grin you have waited to unleash
He returns it, taking your hand and rushing outside the club
From the corner of your eye you see jungwon shaking his head,
"Took them long enough" he tells nayeon
She smiles, sighing
"I know right"
Once the night has quieted down from outside of the busy club, only small street lights and some pedestrians are around
Even the music is almost completely deaf to your ears, a faint melody playing in what you wouldn't need to remember
He takes you by the hips, pulling you closer to his body,
"You know what this means i hope" he says, running his tongue over his lips,
you did, you knew the moment both of you smiled at each other after the relief of the truth,
You had waited your time, it was now finally your turn to collide
"What do you mean ?"
He snarks, tilting your chin up to him with a sincere look
Knowing you just needed him to say it,
"I love you. I've liked you for years, but i think today we were meant to connect"
The soft kiss he places on your longing lips seals his sincerity, moving slowly against you in a rhythm you've dreamed of
He feels like home, he feels like years spent were worth this one kiss
You kiss him back, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him closer,
"I love you too" you mumble, losing the words to a kiss that had spoken for you before you did,
"I know" he says, resting his forhead on yours with an unsteady breath, you can't help but scoff at his cocky tone
He just laughs in return, capturing your lips in another kiss of the same kind
"Wanna ride home with me?" he asks, clasping his hand in with yours and already walking along the rocky road
"On your bike?" you're snapping to look at him, glimmering with excitment
It has been one of your teenage dreams to ride on his bike with him, wrapping your arms around his waist and just feeling the freedom of the trust you have in him
His heartthrob allure only growing after he had gotten his license at 17
He says yes, stopping in front of the black, sleek looking bike,
"But it's late kook"
Without missing a beat,
"Stay the night. I've slept over a million times. I can sleep on the guest bed if you want me to"
Your cheeks fill with heat, turning your head sideways to hide your excitement
Still, he catches it, cupping your face to turn you back towards his loving eyes,
"So?"
You grin, "hell yes"
"Okay, you need to hold on tight" his head is covered by the large helmet, leather jacket zipped up all the way to the top,
Like a scene from a movie, your hair flows with the wind, hands tightening around his waist when he begins driving, not to slow, not too fast
"Feels so nice!" You shout, closing you eyes to indulge in this new found satisfaction,
He chuckles, shouting back
"Right? I'll drive you anywhere baby!" the sweetness of his voice doesn't feel forgein or like he's jumping ahead
It all falls together perfectly, like it had always been this way
Arrving at his front door a couple minutes later, he takes off the helmet and assists your leave from the bike
Unlocking the door and getting rid of the thick jacket, he stares at your revealing dress, this time, all of his sense fully able to concentrate on you
"Are you cold? You look stunning, by the way, in case you couldn't tell from how i can't stop looking" he takes his hands to run down your sides again, placing a small kiss on your nose,
"Thank you, i know i don't have to tell you, but you look really good too" you say, caressing his face with your hands,
He notes you didn't answer his question but he doesn't push, leading you to his couch to wrap you up comfortably either way
"I do know, but it's different when my girl says it" he mutters against your lips while he places you down on the couch, climbing to hover over you
Your lips move on their very own, focused on chasing after the love in his kisses, softly humming while playing with his hair
He sneaks his tongue into your mouth, wrapping it around yours and causing for a deeper kiss,
You take it, moaning softly into it and then you play with his bottom lip, swiping your tongue across the small metal ring,
"You're my girl, you know that, right princess?"
his hands wander to your arms, caressing them while his lips move to kiss down your neck, leaving traces of wet spots and little bruises on your soft skin
Moaning in pleasure and happiness, this feeling is what you've been longing for,
It's him, he is what you were missing
It's you, it's you he needed all along
"Yours, wanted it for so long" you mumble out, getting lost in the feeling of his warmth all over you,
You can feel him smile against your neck, his head lifts to look you directly into the eyes
He's a little blushed out, lips swollen and glazed and his pretty hair is slightly messed up
One of his hands makes its way to your face, grazing his thumb over your cheek and bottom lip
"Me too, i first realized when i was 17. You were so pretty and just so.. you. It only got worse by the day" he says, although he's slightly breathy in his voice, the statement is firm
Your heart jumps, you are you
And that was enough for him
When he shifts in the couch to be more comfortable, his hips press into yours
The barrier of your thin dress not nearly enough to stop feeling his bulge inside the jeans he's wearing,
You let out a small whimper just as he groans, quickly you hide under your hands
"Oh god i-i-m sorry" you stutter out but he makes it known he didn't mind, prying your hands away immediately
"It's okay pretty, you sound cute. Are you okay with this? If we're moving too fast-"
"Please?" your whine is soft; a plea to feel him more,
He smiles, kissing you with grace and lust,
"Anything for you"
Slowly, the bulge in his pants presses into you again, his hips roll into your heat carefully, the friction immediately eliciting small groans and whimpers from your mouths,
You kiss him again, moving your hands under his shirt to touch his abs while you continue cherishing his closeness, growing wetter by the second
He takes every little moan, starting to groan himself and growing more eager, more rapid with his movements,
"So pretty, can i touch your chest baby?" he whispers against your lips, opening his eyes to watch your tits move with every roll to your core, breath fanning over your lips as ragged as yours
"Mhh, yes, please kook"
His hands occupy themselves immediately, pulling down the straps of your dress and releasing them from the cups of your bra,
He takes a second to stare, listening to your little pleas while your face is glazed with pleasure and your exposed chest moves with you,
"You're a dream" he keeps pressing small kisses to your lips, hands now working against your chest.
Squeezing the flesh, rolling his fingers over your nipples
The moans from your mouth are now rapid, your clit overwhelmingly pleased with friction and the knot in your lower abdomen close to snapping,
"Feels so good kook, gonna cum" you whisper, pulling him into a deeper kiss by the neck,
"Cum for me pretty, doing so good" he says in that airy low voice and it only takes two more pushes to make you release into your soaked panties
He stops his hips slowly, listening to your little whimpers and collecting his breath
"Felt.. so good.." he mutters into your hair, pressing little kisses to your scalp
"Mhm.. you didn't cum did you?" your question seems almost absurd to him
He chuckles, looking at your pretty face under him,
"I did. I came like a teen in my boxers, i mean god look at you"
You laugh sweetly, kissing his cheek, he returns it shortly after
"Reminds me of when i once stole your shirt from jungwons room to masturbate with"
Shamelessly admitting to one of your most down- bad moments, knowing you wouldn't be judged
He gasps, sitting you up with him,
"Oh my god, i stole your panties once!" he laughs, your eyes widen in shock as you begin laughing with him
"The stuff we did as teens man" you say with a sigh, wrapping yourself in one of the blankets around
He furrows his eyebrows,
"Teens? I did that last year"
Another gasp, this time from you
He pinches your nose, shutting your words of disbelief up with a kiss,
"Shhh shh no more. Let's sleep, I'll give you my shirt, no need to steal them anymore"
You nod, yawning and falling into his arms,
He takes your body right up with him, picking you up to his room, where you'd be sleeping in his clothes, in his arms
Just where you belonged all this time.
#redcherrykook#jeon jungkook#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook fanfic#bts jungkook#bts fanfic#jungkook smut#jungkook fluff#brothers best friend
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Eyes Only For You
Pairing: Lando Norris x reader
Warnings: a little bit of angst, fluff
“Hey, baby” You say smiling walking into the kitchen greeting your boyfriend who you missed so much after a whole day filled with meetings.
Lando was free for another week before returning to the races, and you really had a lot of work to do the whole week. You had a lot of meetings and events to attend so you’ve been out of the house and even out of the town most of the time.
You hated it when Lando was free and you had a lot of work to do and couldn't take full advantage of his rare free time. And so when such days happen, you always rush home at the end of the day, eager to see him and cuddle him and just rest in his arms.
That's how you thought it would be this evening too, but as soon as you entered the room and saw that Lando didn't even turn to you when you greeted him, you immediately felt that something was up.
“Hi” He says apathetically looking for something in the fridge and not paying attention to the fact that you finally came home after being away all day.
He was angry. You read it right away. You could tell by his tone, but you decided to ignore it at first.
You walked up to him from the other side of the kitchen island and hugged him from behind while he was still standing in front of the fridge looking into it.
“Where is Mila?” You ask.
Oh, and you were also babysitting Mila for the night. His brother and sister in law and Mila were in town so you offered to watch her tonight so they could have some time to themselves and go on a date.
“She fell asleep in the living room a little while ago.” He said not engaging in further conversation.
“I missed you today” You say leaving a small kiss against his bare back.
“Yeah? How was your day?” He asks taking the salad dressing from the fridge and walking up to the kitchen island where his chicken salad was.
“It was..hectic.” You say looking at him. “Been waiting to come home to you.” You say softly trying to get anything out of him, but failing when he continues to be silent and ignore you focusing on making his salad.
“Lan? Is everything okay?” You finally ask.
“Well,” He sighs and somewhat aggressively throws the soiled fork into the kitchen sink making you wince slightly. “It was up until two hours ago when some pictures of you from the Boss Show in Milan emerged.”
“What pictures?” You ask confused, immediately going over the events of that day in Milan in your head.
He pulls his phone out of the pocket of his shorts, unlocks it and throws it in front of you on the surface of the kitchen island. “Care to explain?”
You stare at the picture on his cell phone of you and Michele Morrone and you immediately remember the situation you had with him that day that you were not even aware that someone had taken a picture of it and published it on the Internet.
In the picture, you were leaving the fashion show and he was grabbing your elbow. You met him for the first time that day and you talked about nothing more than the looks from the show, but it was quite obvious to you that he was indirectly hitting on you here and there. You grabbed his attention and he didn't spare you a few compliments, but at no point did you give him reason to think you were interested in him.
When you were leaving the fashion show, you didn't even know that he came out after you. He grabbed your elbow before you walked over to the waiting car and asked if he could have your number to which you replied that you have a boyfriend and that you’re in a happy relationship.
“Oh my God..” You sigh before explaining what exactly happened in the picture.
“Did you give him your number?” Lando asks even though you had said you didn’t.
“Of course I didn’t, Lando?” You say a bit offended that he even had to ask such a thing.
“Why didn't you tell me right away instead of me having to look at the pictures of my girlfriend with that fucking- porn actor?”
“I don’t ever tell you when things like that happen because I don’t care about that stuff and because I’m not interested in anyone but you!”
“What the fuck? What do you mean ‘when things like that happen’? Do guys hit on you a lot?”
“Lando..please” You were already getting exhausted from this kind of conversation. You considered it so unimportant that you almost forgot it happened, but you could understand why Lando was upset about it.
“No, tell me, y/n!”
“Yes, guys do hit on me, but I never ever respond to any of that in any kind of way whatsoever!”
“Oh, that’s really nice. Very comforting.” He says sarcastically.
“What? Am I so unattractive that it comes as such a surprise to you?”
“No, fuck..of course not. I just-“ He sighs running his hands through his hair. “I just thought everyone knew you were mine..”
“Lando, as long as I know that I’m yours, it doesn’t matter what other guys think or try to do. And I can’t believe that you would even think that I was doing something behind your back. I can’t believe you don’t trust me, Lando?” It hurt you because you never gave him a reason to doubt you. Your relationship was pure and full of love for each other. Topics like this have never even been in the conversation.
He deeply sighs again and steps closer to you cupping your face making you look up at him. “It’s not you that I don’t trust, it’s others. I don’t want someone to steal you from me. I’m sorry”
“That could never happen.” You say looking up at him.
He pulls your face closer to his wanting to kiss you, but you move your head to the left avoiding the kiss.
“I’m going to change. I’m tired.” You move away from him and go to your shared bedroom.
Your mood was no longer up to par and you weren't as happy and excited as you were half an hour ago and you blamed Lando for that. On the one hand, you understood him, but on the other hand, you couldn't believe that he doubted you even for a slight moment.
It especially hurt you because you knew that girls are hitting on him every chance they get and that they obsess over him all the time not caring in the slightest that he has a girlfriend and yet you never showed him it bothered you because you know he only has eyes for you.
You took a quick shower and changed into more comfortable clothes. Although you were still sad about the things that went down with Lando, you wanted to see Mila and hang out with her in case she woke up because it was only 7 p.m. so you headed to the living room shortly after taking the shower.
You knew she was awake when you approached the living room and heard Lando and her chatting about the Minions that Lando had turned on on the TV. It was more of Lando's favorite cartoon than Mila’s honestly. You walked over closer and saw Lando
Lando was lying on the couch and Mila was lying next to him with her head resting on his chest while his arm was wrapped around her. The sight melted your heart. You loved their relationship. You loved seeing him spend time with her and bond and you loved the way she loved him.
“Auntie!!” Mila exclaimed when she saw you.
“Hey, cutie” You smiled at her sitting on the couch next to Lando and giving her a hug. “Are you guys watching the Minions?”
“Yess!!” She said excitedly.
“Wanna join us?” Lando asked, his eyes pleading for you to say yes.
You nodded your head bringing a huge smile to Lando's face. He opened his free arm for you so you can cuddle up to him. When you laid your head against his chest as well as Mila, he tightly wrapped his arm around you and kissed your head quietly whispering “I’m sorry”
You just looked up at him and kissed his chin without saying a word.
Halfway through the movie, Mila slowly began to fall asleep again. Lando was gently rubbing her back the whole time and when he would stop for a moment she would startle and say "Lala, more" so Lando had to continue until she fell asleep and you just found his gesture so adorable.
“I can't wait to see you like this with our own baby.” You said softly.
“What? Are you-?”
“I’m not pregnant, Lan” You chuckled. “I’m just saying, one day I hope.”
“You want babies with me?” He asked his fingers playing with your hair and looking into your eyes as you lifted your gaze up.
“Of course I do. I think about it often.” You admit that every now and then you find yourself daydreaming about your perfect little family and it makes you so excited about the future.
“Yeah? I do too, baby. I dream of holding you both just like this, waking up next to you, taking care of you.” He says pressing a kiss on your forehead. “Should we make it a reality soon?”
“I think we should, Lan”
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1#lando norris#lando norris imagine#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x y/n#lando norris blurb#lando norris one shot#lando x reader#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x you#f1 x reader#f1 scenario#f1 smut#f1 one shot#f1 fluff#f1 imagine
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Juno - JJ Maybank
(one-shot, boyfriend!jj x reader, 4.1k words)
summary: You've built a beautiful little life with JJ, but his wild past and your trust issues keep you guarded. When a storm hits the island, you gain the perspective you need to take the next step.
content: fluff/smut, mentions of drinking and smoking. 18+ minors do not interact
When you met JJ, he was wild. Smoking, drinking, surfing - it was all he knew. You were new to the island and attending your first party at the Boneyard when he saw you standing by the keg, laughing with some friends, and his world turned upside down.
From that day on, he asked you out every time he saw you, relentlessly flirting with you. But you had heard about his reputation before your boxes were even unpacked, and you were far too cautious of a person to jump into something with someone like him quickly.
“You don’t give up, do you, Maybank?” You asked him about a year in, after he begged you to leave a party with him for the hundredth time.
“Usually I do, actually,” he leaned in so you could feel his warm breath against your lips, your heart rate spiking. “Just never wanted anything this bad.”
After that night, he had you. When you were a little older and out of school, and after months of begging from JJ, you moved in with him. You rented a little house on The Cut together, it wasn’t anything impressive, falling apart inside and outside, but with you waitressing and him working hourly for a landscaping service, it was all you could afford.
You had never been so anxious about anything as you were to move in with JJ. Your own parents were a disaster, your dad leaving before you could walk, and you grew up watching your mother’s revolving door of deadbeat men disappoint her over and over. Even though you knew JJ was infinitely better than even the best of those men, you had trust issues you couldn’t shake. You didn’t tell JJ about your concerns, not wanting him to take them personally, but he noticed the way you’d toss and turn in your shared bed, twisting your hair in your fingers with worry.
He swore to himself he’d never let you down the way those other men did. He worked his way up at the landscaping business until he was a manager. Eventually, after giving up partying so you could both pick up a few extra shifts, you had made enough combined to put a deposit down and buy the house you shared. You both picked up second jobs at the Island Club, you’d bartend while he parked cars. When you got home each night, you’d pool your tips, counting them before adding them to the glass jar labeled “Dream House.” On the rare occasion you both had a day off, you’d sit in a lawn chair and keep him company while he fixed the roof, or lay on the bathroom floor while he installed the big claw-foot tub you’d wanted since you were a little girl. Bit by bit, he turned what you loving called The Shitshack into your Dream House.
Even though you were both exhausted at the end of every day, you always made time for each other. You’d split a $5 bottle of wine while playing Uno on the living room floor. Or you’d cook his favorite meals for him while he sat at the counter, your dutiful taste tester. After particularly rough shifts, you’d take a bath, JJ leaning back into you as you rubbed his shoulders and he massaged your calves and feet.
Those nights would always lead to the two of you tangled up in your bed, or the shower, or on the floor. The beauty of owning your own home was that there was not one place - or position - you hadn’t tried. When you were first together, you had to talk JJ through pleasuring you, no girl ever being as honest with him as you were. He made you promise you’d never fake it with him, and you didn’t, patiently telling and showing him exactly what you wanted. He studied dutifully, storing away every single word you said. Now, you didn’t have to tell him anything, he knew exactly what to do. Hell, he knew your body better than you did.
“Just sit back and relax, baby girl, I got you,” he’d say, smiling coyly as you inevitably came undone for him in minutes.
Every night, whether you’d had sex or just talked about your days, he’d hold you until you fell asleep. And every night, without fail, he’d ask you to marry him. You’d just kiss him and tell him you loved him, falling asleep a few moments later. He didn’t take it personally, he understood why you were hesitant, and he’d wait until you were old and gray if that’s what you needed.
. ⋆ * .♡ *:・. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・. ݁ ˖ ࣪ .. ݁ ˖ ࣪ . ⋆ * .♡ *:・. ˖ ࣪ .
This was the first night in a long time JJ held you in bed and didn’t propose. A tropical storm was raging outside your little house, winds making the walls sway and rain pounding against the windows so hard you think they might break. You’re shaking in JJ’s arms, you’ve always hated storms and this is the worst one that’s hit the island in a long time. He pulls the covers over your head and wraps his strong arms around you tightly, trying to drown out the noise of the storm with soothing words.
“It’s gonna be okay, love,” he promises. “I’m not gonna let anything bad happen. ‘S just a little rain, it’ll pass.”
Even though you were terrified, his confident words were enough to lull you into sleep sometime in the early morning. When you wake up, JJ isn’t in bed next to you. Sun is peeking through the crack in the curtains and the sound of birds chirping has replaced the thunder. You pull on your robe and slippers and shuffle out of the bedroom.
You brew yourself some coffee, thankful the power is still on, and walk around the house to check for leaks or damage. There isn’t a single problem. You sigh in relief, beyond grateful for all the hard work JJ had put in to make the house so safe.
Suddenly, you hear voices coming from outside the screen door. You look out to see commotion up and down the street, you set your coffee down and step outside, eyes wide as you take in the storm’s aftermath. You realize with dismay that you and JJ were the only house on the block that seemed untouched. Every other yard was riddled with debris, roofs were damaged, windows broken.
You spotted JJ across the street, helping a neighbor lift heavy branches off of his car. Feeling helpless, you hurried back into the house and pulled out everything you had in the pantry and fridge, making sandwiches and cutting up veggies, loading up the back of JJ’s landscaping van with the food. You parked the van at the end of the street and handed out the food and drinks to everyone, creating a makeshift block party, while JJ made his way house to house to see how he could help with the damage.
You try to listen as your neighbors discuss the volume of the thunder and share stories of past storms, but you couldn’t help the way your eyes kept drifting back to JJ. He looked so strong and capable, lifting heavy branches, boarding up broken windows, clearing debris. Every neighbor he helped was left laughing, their smiles wide as he eased their worry by just being him.
Once it starts to get dark, you and JJ invite everyone over for a bonfire and cookout in your backyard. You’re sitting by the fire, watching with adoration as JJ plays tag football with all the kids. He purposely let them win, making them feel like they were ten feet tall. They all dogpile on him in excitement and you laugh along with all the other adults, shaking your head lovingly.
One of the young moms in the neighborhood you had come to know fairly well sits next to you, smiling knowingly as she watches you watch him.
“It’s really none of my business,” she says to you quietly, “but why aren’t you two married?”
You don’t look away from JJ as you respond, “y’know, I had a reason, but I can’t seem to remember what it was.”
After everyone has left, the yard is a mess of solo cups and the fire still burns. You look around and sigh, you’ve been cooking and helping people all day, and you didn’t realize how exhausted you were after getting so little sleep last night. You start to pick up, yawning as you bend down to pick up something off the ground. You feel JJ’s arms around your waist, hugging you tightly. You lean back into him and sway as he places a kiss on your cheek.
“Loved watching you today,” he says, his voice low. “Cooking for everyone, making sure everyone was okay. You’re such a good person, baby.”
You smile at his praise. “I learned it from you,” you say sweetly.
“Nah, babe, you got that the wrong way around,” he laughed. “You think the me you met five years ago would’ve been out here helping people clean up? I would’ve taken one look around and gotten the hell out of here.”
You smile at this, knowing he was right, picturing eighteen-year-old JJ grabbing his board and peeling out of the neighborhood at the first sight of trouble.
“You made me a better man,” he says, his tone serious now.
You lift one of his hands up to your lips, kissing his knuckles affectionately. He holds you for a long while as you look up at the stars, the night clear and calm after the storm.
“I drew you a bath,” he breaks the silence.
“Thank you, but I have to clean up,” you say, breaking from his hold and looking around the messy yard.
He just takes the trash from your hand and shakes his head, “I’ve got it, love. You don’t want your bath to get cold and waste the water.”
You smile at him, knowing his play. “You turned it on before telling me so I couldn’t say no.”
He doesn’t deny it, just kisses you on the cheek and starts picking up more empty paper plates and cups.
The bath water was perfect when you got in, your favorite candle already lit and some soft music playing. Your heart squeezed at JJ’s thoughtfulness as you relaxed into the warm water and let it wash away the day.
From your spot in the tub, you could see JJ in the yard, lit by the moon as he poured water over the fire to put it out. You felt suddenly emotional, overwhelmed by the deepest affection for him. You thought about his comment that you’d made him a better man. It was true that he’d grown so much in the last five years, but you couldn’t take all the credit. Maybe you were the reason he’d begun the journey, but he got to this destination all on his own. No one worked harder than him, or loved harder, or played harder. He provided for you, while still acknowledging how hard you worked, too. He encouraged all your dreams, listened to all of your anxious ramblings, laughed at all your stupid jokes. He never missed the chance to tell you how smart, beautiful, and special you were. He was selfless, always putting your needs before his. Even when you’d fight, he never walked away, never let the night end without trying to come to an understanding, only sleeping on the couch when he knew what you needed most was space. He’s proven to you over and over that he’s become the man you need.
You’re pulled from your thoughts when you hear the bedroom door open and shut. You hear JJ shuffle around in the bedroom for a bit before settling, surely not wanting to interrupt your relaxation. It hits you all at once, finally finding the answer he’s been wanting from you for years.
You drain the tub and stand at the sink,running your hands through your hair and dabbing on a little lipgloss. You rub vanilla scented lotion into your skin, JJ’s favorite. You walk over to the walk-in closet he built for you, digging through the drawers until you find a new pair of pink lace panties and its matching bra and garter set that he hasn’t seen you in yet.
When you slowly open the bathroom door and step into the bedroom, JJ is sitting on the bed in only his boxers, leaning against the headboard as he scrolls on his phone.
“Babe, you need to see these videos of the swells this morning,” he tells you, eyes still fixed to his phone as you start to walk slowly toward the bed. “We gotta get out there tomorrow.”
“Whatever you want, baby,” you purr.
He looks up the sound of your sultry voice, eyes immediately widening at the sight of you in your lingerie. He sits up, moving to the side of the bed and throwing his phone behind him, not even caring when it bounces off the mattress and onto the floor with a crash.
“Damnnnn,” he whistles at you playfully, making your cheeks heat up as you giggle.
“You like it?” You do a little twirl for him.
He looks you up and down hungrily, his chest rising and falling in heavy breaths. He hooks his finger and motions for you, “get over here.”
A rush of excitement flows through you, straight to your core, and you saunter over to him. He spreads his knees apart so you can stand in front of him, between his legs. He looks up at you, his eyes burying into yours as he slowly reaches his hand up to rest on your hip.
“I love it,” he places a soft kiss onto your stomach and you feel goosebumps shoot up all over your skin. He kisses you a few more times before pulling back slightly to mumble, “it’s too bad I’m gonna have to rip it off.”
You moan softly at the feeling of his soft lips grazing over the sensitive skin right above the waistband of your panties. Before he can go any further, you grab his face in both hands and lift his gaze back up to yours.
“You first,” you whisper.
JJ’s lips spread in a wicked smile, and you instinctively press the pads of your thumbs into his dimples. You lean down to place a quick kiss to his lips before saying, “lay down.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says eagerly as he scrambles back to lean against the headboard.
You slowly climb over him, your knees on either side of his lap, and ever so slightly drop your hips, your core ghosting over his clothed cock. At the slightest contact, he groans, unable to help himself but attach his lips to your neck. He sucks on the sensitive skin for a moment, before running his tongue over the same spot.
“Mmmm, you taste like vanilla,” you smile at the warmth in his words.
“Put on that lotion you like,” you explain as you grind down on him again, just a little harder this time.
“God,” he groans. “You’re so good to me.”
“Not as good as you are to me,” you smile down at him as you start rolling your hips in a steady rhythm. He throws his head back, reveling in the feeling of you, fingers digging into your hips to guide you to continue grinding. You place soft, wet kisses on his neck and chest, offering him a praise between each one.
“You make me so happy…treat me so well…fuck me so good…make me come so hard…make me so fucking horny…”
His dick twitches in his boxers at the sound of your dirty talk. You continue moving your kisses down his abs, backing up your body to reach lower with each one.
“Fuck, angel,” he chokes out, “you got me so hard.”
You look up at him with a smirk, you’re between his legs now, face inches from the waistband of his boxers, you arch your back so your ass sticks up behind you, giving him a perfect angle of your body.
“Can I taste you, J?” You pout, as if he’d ever say no.
“Mhm, do whatever you want,” he pants, brushing your hair back from your face and tucking it behind your ear. Even when he has you in this position, he’s sweet, taking care of you.
“All I want is to make you happy,” you tell him, your intent was to sound sexy, but you can’t help the bit of emotion that creeps in, realizing how true your words are on so many levels.
He sits up when he notices the way your brow is drawn together in sincerity. He kisses your forehead and whispers, “all you gotta do to make me happy is exist.”
This man is perfect, you think, a huge grin on your face. You kiss him back once before laying your hand gently on his chest so he’ll lay back. You keep your hand over his heart as the other pulls down the waistband of his boxers. His dick springs free the second the fabric is out of the way. Even after all these years, your stomach still flips with excitement when you see his cock hard and needy for you. He places one hand over yours on his chest, while his other hand finds its way back into your hair.
You wrap your fingers around his shaft gently and he sucks in a sharp breath, overly sensitive from how worked up you’ve got him. You drop a kiss to the tip, leaving a dab of lipgloss behind, quick to brush it off with your thumb, the motion making his hips buck up.
You know he’s trying to be patient, not to rush, afraid to pressure you. Your heart swells at his considerate restraint. You reward his patience by flattening your tongue and dragging it from his base to his tip, swirling it over the tip a few times before bringing his cockhead into your lips.
He looks down at you, eyes wide, watching the way your mouth accepts him. You moan softly at the taste of him and it reverberates through his body, making his head fall back against the headboard with a bang.
“Are you ok, love?” You ask nervously.
He laughs and shakes his head at his own clumsiness, “I’m fine baby, you just got me so damn worked up, your mouth feels so good.”
You smile in satisfaction and return your mouth to his tip. You work him into your mouth slowly, inch by inch, trying to relax your throat as best you can. Even though you’ve done this many times, you’ve never gotten used to the size of him. He knows it, too, looking at you with concern as you start to gag a bit, only two-thirds of the way down.
“Don’t hurt yourself, it’s okay if you stop there,” you pull off of him and he thinks you’re done, but you just shush him as you run your hand up and down his shaft a few times before diving back in.
When he’s finally all the way in, his tip nudging the back of your throat, you moan to disguise your gag so he knows you’re okay. He seems to relent, tugging slightly at the roots of your hair and gripping your hand harder, you hollow your cheeks and start to bob up and down.
“Shhhit,” he says through clenched teeth. “That’s perfect, baby. You’re so fucking perfect.”
You keep up the pace for a couple minutes, JJ a whining mess beneath you. You adored the sound of him letting go and feeling good. He worked so hard, and always tried to prove how strong he was, nothing felt better than making him finally relax.
When you moaned around him again, he bucked his hips up subconsciously.
“Wait,” he sat up, “wait wait wait.”
You pulled off of him, startled, “what’s wrong?”
“Nothing, it’s so good, too good,” he rushed to assure you. “Not gonna last much longer.”
You smiled pridefully, “where do you want to finish, baby?”
“Inside, need to be inside you, please,” he used the hand he was holding to pull you up to him, making you laugh as you fall onto his chest.
“I was hoping you’d say that,” you giggled, placing a swift kiss on his lips.
“Yeah?” He taunts as he flips you onto your back gently, slipping his finger under the strap of your bra. “You finally gonna let me rip these off of you?”
You pull your lip between your teeth and nod, watching JJ’s hands move swiftly to rid you of the lacy fabric. Once he had your bra and panties off, he kissed you again, and you let out a little sigh into his mouth. He studied your face as his hand dipped between your legs, two fingers gliding through your wetness. You whimpered and twitched beneath him as he grazed your clit.
“All this for me?” He asked, well aware of the answer.
“Yes,” you grabbed his shoulders to steady yourself, the pressure of his fingers against you so good your legs were starting to shake. “I’m yours, J. Forever.”
His nostrils flared slightly at the sound of the words, never needing to be inside you quite as much as he did in that moment. He used your wetness on his hand to get his dick ready, sliding in slowly as your back arched while you gasped at the sensation.
“Forever, huh?” He asks as he sinks into you.
You nod desperately, pulling a wicked grin from him as he finally bottoms out. He starts to rock in and out of you, slowly at first, picking up the pace when you wrap your legs around his waist, clinging to him.
“I love you so much,” he says so earnestly your heart aches, pressing his forehead against yours.
“I love you too, you have no idea,” you tell him.
When he shifts his hips slightly so his pelvis rubs over your clit, you clench around him, crying his name in pleasure.
“I think I have some idea,” he teases.
You squeeze him again, harder, making the smile fall from his lips as he groans, jaw clenched.
As JJ picks up his pace, brushing over your clit with each deep thrust, both of you moan, your breaths becoming frenzied and your sweat mixing together everywhere your skin touches.
His words are a tangled mess of I love yous and fucks, yours a chant of oh my gods and his name. You squeeze him again, your orgasm approaching. He watches your face, eyes shut tight and lips parted, your hair a halo around you as he presses you into the pillows with each stroke. It’s the most beautiful sight, he thinks, the most precious person in the world, completely lost in the joy he’s giving her.
He can’t help himself when he whispers, “marry me.”
Your eyes shoot open, meeting his with surprise, and he wishes he hadn’t said it, that he had waited until later like he did every other night, when you were falling asleep and too tired to scold him for his impulsiveness.
But then, you reach your hand up to caress his face, running your thumb over his bottom lip, looking at him with so much love and affection.
“Yes,” you say.
He stops moving into you and leans away from your face a bit, positive that he misheard you.
“Wh-what?” He sounds concerned, like maybe he was dreaming and none of this was really happening.
“I wanna marry you, JJ,” you repeat, your voice sure and unwavering. You caress his cheek with your thumb, waiting for his mind to catch up with his ears.
When it finally does, he places a kiss on your palm and sinks into you again, moving slowly at first in his dazed state, before you lift your hips, reminding him how you like it. He pounds into you, the sounds of skin slapping and heavy breaths filling the room as you near your high.
“You gonna be my wife?” JJ asks, watching your face contort with pure bliss.
“Yes!” You cry, the wave of your orgasm crashing into you hard, your clenching walls pulling JJ’s from him as he fills you.
That night, while JJ held you like he always did, your back to his chest, he’s uncharacteristically quiet. You turn in his arms so you can look at him, trying to read his face.
“What’s wrong?” You ask.
“I’m trying to figure out how long I have to wait before I can start asking if we can have a baby,” he admits, his tongue poking into his cheek.
You laugh loudly, swatting his shoulder.
“You really don’t give up, do you Maybank?”
“On you? Never.”
a/n: in which nat takes a break from all the rafe angst to write some jj fluff. I saw some of the jj girlies say he needs more fics, so i'd thought I'd try writing for him and I had soooo much fun!! also I fear short 'n sweet has a death grip on my one-shots, oh well.
#obx fic#jj maybank#jj obx#jj outer banks#jj obx imagine#JJ smut#JJ maybank smut#obx smut#outer banks fic#outer banks#outer banks smut#JJ x reader#JJ maybank x reader#x reader#JJ fluff#JJ maybank fic
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Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology
MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist
Part 6: Where…?
The first thing out of your mouth when you wake is a low, discontent groan as your hands fist the blankets around you. Your head and eyes throb. For a good several minutes, you remain completely still - no motivation to move from your semi-comfortable position. You really can’t drink like you used to, huh?
Eventually you work up the courage to crack your eyes open. At least the curtains are closed. The room takes a minute to focus, and the first thing you notice are the incorrectly colored sheets - lacking the usual floral print. You frown, grunting as you sit up. The second thing you notice is the t-shirt and sweatpants you’re currently wearing - not yours and easily a couple sizes too big. They have to belong to someone wide and tall to not be fitted on you. You don’t remember going home with anyone…
You take a moment to look around. It’s a decently sized room with minimal decor. A few art prints line the walls and the closet is in perfect order - separated by type and color. Though, most of it appears to be black. The bed is huge. Tall, too, you realize as you slowly slip your way out of it, nearly tripping on the long fabric of the sweatpants you’ve been dressed in. Glancing at yourself in the small mirror on the wall, you realize your makeup is gone and your hair is braided. There’s a dark wooden dresser and a matching desk with a laptop and sketchbook neatly placed on top. You wander over nosily, squinting down at the book. Oh shit! Oh shit, that’s Simon’s sketchbook. You’d recognize that collection of skull pattered stickers anywhere.
The sound of clinking pans and the scent of bacon slowly registers. Did… did you somehow end up going home with him? There’s no way, right? You remember asking him to dance, you remember him being surprisingly good and… and… that’s about it. On top of the dresser is your outfit from the night before, neatly folded with your bra tucked underneath. Your face heats and you cover your chest.
After a quick self inspection (and a nervous check for condoms in the trash) you decide you’re pretty sure you didn’t fuck anyone. Probably. Hopefully. What happens if you did? Would Simon tell John? Should you tell John? Will it make things awkward? Will he fire you? Oh, you really don’t want to lose this job. It’s the best you’ve ever had and you really, truly love all your boys so much. You press the heels of your hands into your eyes both to soothe the ache in them and to bite back tears.
You’ve always been such a stupid girl.
After giving yourself a few minutes to sit on the bed and properly freak out, flapping your hands in an attempt to get that nervous energy out of your system, you decide it’s time to face the music.
You slip your bralette back on before slowly cracking open the bedroom door. The short hall is mostly shadowed, lights off and the sun drifting in from what you assume is the living room. The door across from you is closed and to your left is a rather nice, spotless bathroom.
You peak your head out into the living room. It’s large and open, flowing into the kitchen as hardwood becomes tile and an island with stools between the two. Simon is the source of the clinking, apparently, moving around the stove like it’s second nature. You suppose you shouldn’t be surprised he can cook - he’s a grown man - but there’s something about the way he arranges the plates, the from-scratch ingredients, that tells you he does actively enjoys it.
It’s cute.
Johnny and Kyle sit on a well loved couch just a few feet from you, both focused on some TV show you don’t recognize. A slow frown forms on your face, turning into shock as the door beside you opens. You nearly jump out of your skin as John appears beside you in a robe and plaid pajama pants.
A soft smile splits his face. “Mornin’, dove.”
“Och, she’s awake!” Johnny grins, throwing an arm over the back of the couch as he turns to face you.
You blink dumbly, head pounding and gut churning as you step closer to stand beside the couch. Without thinking you blurt, “You all… live together?”
“Course.” Kyle pipes up, looking at you as well. As if you were supposed to have known that already.
You melt to the floor in a hungover heap. “Oh, thank god!”
Johnny laughs. “Why thank god?”
“I was so scared I did something stupid…” Your voice cracks as you press your cheek to the cool hardwood. You didn’t fuck anyone, you didn’t embarrass yourself, you were simply taken care of. The relief alone almost makes you want to cry. Though, that’s probably the hangover more than anything.
“Oh, love.” Kyle reaches down to soothe a hand over your hair. “We wouldn’t have done anything like that, yeah?”
You nod.
“Sorry it scared you.” John murmurs, crouching to set a mug of coffee on the floor beside your head. “We didn’t feel comfortable sendin’ y’home alone.”
You nod again, slowly pushing yourself up to grab the mug. The bitter taste of black coffee makes you cringe, but it wakes your system up and seems to push your hangover down to a tolerable level.
“I should go home…” You sigh, not moving a single muscle off the floor where you currently sit.
“Not before you eat somethin’.” Simon calls from the kitchen.
You take the opportunity to look around the living room. The sun has been mostly blocked out by barely cracked curtains. There’s a little bit of each of them in it - artwork scattered across the walls. A few photos - one of John and Simon that looks like the opening of the shop. The leather pride flag sticker stuck on what looks like a toolbox doesn’t escape your notice. Probably John’s. You’ve never seen another man with such well cared for boots and leather coats. Maybe that’s assumptive. There’s a game boy and a PS5 behind the 4K television. Your eyes follow the rather extensive sound system to a massive CD organizer. There’s a short hall on the opposite side of the apartment where you assume the other two rooms are. Everything is so… homey. Comfortable.
“Wait, who’s clothes are these?” You ask suddenly, staring down at the oversized t-shirt and tightly tied sweatpants that pool at your feet awkwardly.
“Mine.” Simon shrugs, setting a plate on the coffee table for you before handing two more off to Johnny and Kyle.
“Comfy.” You hum, eyes zeroing in on the large breakfast in front of you - plate piled high with bacon, sausage, and waffles.
“Ye can sit up here wit’ us.” Johnny pats the empty couch beside him.
You think for a moment before shaking your still aching head. “Don’t think I should stand up yet.”
The food is even better than it looks. For a Brit Simon actually knows how to handle his flavors.
You groan as a particular rough throb stabs at your temple. “I don’t remember drinking enough to be this hungover…”
“Johnny can be very convincing.” Simon rumbles, stabbing a piece of sausage.
“What do you remember?” Kyle leans forward a bit to reach for his coffee.
You shrug. “I remember dancing. That’s kind of where it stops.”
“At least you got to skip the part of the night where Johnny starts rantin’ about chemistry math.” Kyle rolls his eyes.
“Och! Ye love my chemistry talk! It’s the structure of the universe! It’s-“
“Yap yap yap.” Kyle opens and closes his hand in a mocking ‘blah blah blah’ motion.
Kyle helps Simon clean up. You try to insist to let you help as well, but they won’t hear of it. John offers to let you stay the day and sleep off your hangover but you shake your head, wanting nothing more than to take a burning hot shower in your own bathroom - as fun as hanging around with them all day sounds. So, you slip into Simon’s room to change back into your own clothes.
Out of the corner of your eye, you see Kyle rest a hand on Simon’s lower back. A light touch, but solid. You don’t have the wherewithal to think about it.
You peel off Simon’s clothes and put yours back on with a wrinkled nose. There’s something so gross about it, not that you’re clean right now anyway. Thank god you had the foresight to not wear underwire. You order yourself a car on your mostly dead phone as you wander back out to the living room. Your skirt suddenly feels far too exposing for the daylight.
You chew your lip. “My driver’s five minutes out… so, I’ll see you guys Wednesday?”
“I’ll walk you down.” John grunts, pulling himself up out of the arm chair.
“Oh, you don’t have to-” You pause when he gives you that look you’ve come to recognize as ‘don’t argue, I’m doing it anyway.’
You give a round of goodbyes to the others who make no movement to get off the couch, fully sunken in. Johnny has sprawled over the L part of the couch with an arm over his eyes and a water bottle in hand.
“Thanks for letting me stay over. Sorry if I got too, uh, sloppy or whatever.” You murmur as the elevator makes for the lobby.
John chuckles. “No more than Johnny ever does. I’m glad you came. Lookin’ forward to the next one.”
You heart skips as you nod. “Me too.”
John leans forward just as your driver pulls up, pressing a light kiss to your forehead. Your back stiffens and your stomach flutters - face hot as he pulls away.
“See you at the shop.” He nods, sauntering back into the building like he didn’t just give you a heart attack.
Bonus:
“No, ye need an oil cleanser first.” Johnny slurs. “Tha’s how ye get the - hic - the makeup off.”
“Don’t act like I didn’t teach you everythin’ you know about skin care y’muppet.” Kyle snipes back as he digs through the drawers under the counter.
“Workin’ on yer John impersonation, I see.” Johnny snickers. Kyle bats at his arm.
You just giggle, seated on the toilet in Kyle and Johnny’s shared bathroom and swaying back and forth. Simon leans in the doorway, watching as the two drunkenly try to help you get your makeup off. All three of you bursting out into another fit of giggles when Kyle squeezes your round cheeks to make a fish face. It occurs to him that he’s never seen you bare faced. None of them have. Not that you come in everyday with a full beat but even so, there’s something intimate about it. To him, at least. Something about you perched in their apartment, in his clothes, having Johnny smudge moisturizer over your face while Kyle braids your hair to keep it from tangling overnight.
The three of you fit together so well…
John puts on a stupid action movie. Something to distract everyone as you wind down and sober up before bed. You snuggle up to Johnny, unsurprisingly, tucking yourself under his arm with your head on his chest. He’s practically Pavlov’d you into constantly touching each other. Just like he did with the rest of them. He jumps a bit when you press your socked feet to his thigh, humming comfortably. There’s a stupid grin plastered across your face.
“Alright, off to bed with you.” John chuckles as you snore comfortably on Johnny’s chest. The Scot is equally asleep, your chests rising and falling in an asynchronous rhythm. John loops his arms under your back and knees, just as strong as he’s always been, carefully cradling you against his chest as he takes you to Simon’s room.
Simon follows, glancing sideways at your clothes in his dresser. You groan as John lowers you but don’t wake up - well and truly passed out.
Simon pauses for a moment before following John out, staring down at you. He’s no better than the others, the alcohol numbing his inhibitions. So, he reaches down, and swipes a thumb over your slightly parted lips. Just as soft as he thought…
He settles into John’s bed, the frame creaking under their combined weight. Neither of them are particularly slight, after all.
“Glad y’danced tonight.” John mutters, reaching over to turn off his lamp.
Simon just grunts.
“She’s good for you.”
“She’s good for us.” He blurts, immediately wanting to shove the words back down his throat.
To his surprise, John just nods, turning to sling an arm over Simon’s waist. “She is.”
A/N: Thank you all so much for enjoying this series with me, it means a ton! I’m sorry I’m not very good at responding to replies/asks but I really do love and appreciate you all!
Hope you’re pumped for the next part bc I am
#simon ghost riley#john soap mactavish#call of duty#cod#cod x reader#johnny soap mctavish x reader#johnny soap mactavish#captain john price x reader#john soap mctavish x reader#john price x reader#captain john price#price x reader#poly 141 x reader#poly 141#tf 141 x reader#141 x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#captain price#fem reader#captain price x reader#fat reader#plus size reader#john price
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The Ogre Prince of Breakbend Isle
Male Ogre Yandere x Feminized Male Reader
CW: Noncon, drugging, aphrodisiacs, aphrodisiac cum, kidnapping, voyeurism, masturbation, big musky ogre cock, cockwarming, somnophilia, multiple orgasms, feminized reader, belly bulge from absurdly huge dick, belly bulge from absurdly large amounts of ogre cum, sweet yandere, general yandere behavior
Word Count: 1.4k
(Started writing this last night before the cat thing, then worked more on it until 5am, then finished it up this evening. REALLY hope you all like it, pretty please comment <3)
Breakbend Isle. Not a place any human should ever be. It was a medium-sized island filled with ogre villages. Yet you were there. A storm had taken your tiny fishing ship and washed you up there. The boat had broken hopelessly too.
You were stranded in dangerous territory. The ogres had a reputation for being brutal and violent towards trespassers, as none who had set foot there had ever returned.
And you were no exception. Despite your best efforts, your cooking fire was sniffed out miles away by Rahtrig the Wrathful. Prince to the leading ogres of Breakbend Isle, son of a the fiercest ogre warlord in human history. He took after his father, over 7ft tall and all muscle.
He had been hunting for deer but found something far more appetizing for a completely different type of hunger.
Instead of just walking up and snatching you, he was captivated and wanted to just… watch. You were so pretty. Most ogres found humans to be exceedingly beautiful. No matter the human's gender they made cute little wives.
Their delicate hands and tongues could greatly pleasure an ogre's prick or massage his big nuts. Rahtrig rubbed his aching crotch in anticipation.
The ogre prince watched you as you ate some fish you had caught. Your tiny little meal that you ate with your delicate little mouth. Then he stared as you disrobed and got into the nearby stream to bathe.
Rahtrig stared in rapt attention at your form. Your perfect small human cock was just so cute. He'd definitely let you grind your cock on his big tongue and let you spill your seed on it.
He started stroking himself as he watched and fantasized about all the amazing things the two of you could do together. He came quickly, spilling thick cum all over the ground.
The ogre had to stifle a moan. He wasn't yet ready to steal you away. Instead, he continued to spy on you until you went to sleep on a pile of leaves with only a jacket to cover you.
Rahtrig crept closer and gazed upon the serenity of your sleeping face bathed in the soft moonlight. Then he imagined more domestic and romantic things for the two of you.
Having you sleep with your head nestled on his huge pecs, lightly drooling on him because of how safe and comfortable you feel. Coming home to you after a long day of hunting or patrol. Maybe even adopting an orphan ogre child and raising it as your own together.
You awoke to find yourself carried over the shoulder of a massive ogre. He stroked your back to comfort you while you cried, kicked, and struggled.
"Shhh, my small flower, would never hurt you. I'm your husband, Rahtrig!"
Did you hear that correctly?
"What? No! You're not m-"
He chuckled loudly, cutting you off. As if the notion that he wasn't your partner was genuinely hilarious.
"Will feel lots better once we get you on my dick. Will be all you want for days~"
His promise to fuck you until you were a babbling cock addicted mess did nothing to calm you down. His deep, rumbling voice didn't exactly help soothe you either.
You continued kicking and screaming the entire way until you were just too exhausted to continue.
When he got into the walls of his village, every ogre that happened to see what he was carrying congratulated the both of you on your upcoming marriage. You saw that there were more than a few humans that averted their gaze as Rahtrig passed by with you. Some of them were accompanied by half-ogre offspring.
The ogre holding you saw you staring at the humans and their children.
"You can't get pregnant; it's fine. We'll adopt!"
Your mind swirled with the image of an ogre child much larger and stronger than you running to you and hugging you half to death. And how would you deal with a rebellious teenager that could kill you with one smack? You barely even noticed when he opened the door to a large ogre hut and stepped inside.
Rahtrig sat you down on the bed. You shook in fear as he started a fire. After that, he lit a few candles around the room. With the hut illuminated, you could see your surroundings clearly.
It was all one room; on this side was a bed and some furniture, and on the other there was a kitchen and eating area. Dried herbs hung from the ceiling, as well as strings of small bones. The heads of various frightening beasts were mounted upon the walls.
You wondered if any of those bones were human and had never wanted to bolt more. But you were in a close walled ogre village, there was really nowhere to run.
With his task of lighting the place done, he turned his attention to you. Much to your dismay.
He took off his large fur loincloth and belt. They were all he was wearing, given the warm climate and the fact that he had only been on a hunt.
His massive cock sprung free; it was far thicker than your arm and least three feet long, uncut and dripping with precum. It was a slightly darker shade of steel grey than the rest of his body. The musk hit you from several feet away, a heady and manly scent, not exactly unpleasant.
He grabbed a vial of liquid before walking closer.
His balls swung heavily beneath him as he got onto the bed with you, ready to empty their contents deeply into your soft ass.
You cowered and shrank against the wall that the bed was situated beside. Rahtrig could smell your fear. It was unpleasant. You were so obviously stricken with terror.
That wouldn't do at all. That's the scent you want on prey. Or an enemy you were about to strike down in combat. Not on your pretty bride.
"Calm down, princess; this'll help. Would never hurt you."
Undeterred by your kicks and protests, the ogre prince pulled you over to him carefully and flipped you over on your belly.
Rahtrig opened the vial and slowly poured all the contents directly on your hole, making sure to massage it in as well as possible. You gradually calmed down as it took effect, though you were still quite scared that his cock would simply split you in two.
When he lined up with your hole and sunk into you, though, all remaining anxiety and fear melted away before the pure bliss you felt.
"Wh-what was in that?"
"Magic potion. Makes humans relax. Also makes em stretchy to take ogre cock."
You only responded by moaning lewdly and pushing your ass back and forth on his dick. Impaling yourself down to the base and creating a perfect stretched outline of his prick in your tummy.
Rahtrig licked and nipped at your sensitive neck as he thrust slowly. He continued at that leisurely pace until you whimpered for him to go faster. He smirked. He knew once you had been lubed up and then filled with ogre precum that you'd be addicted. Both were potent aphrodisiacs, as was his actual cum.
He pulled out of you and moved you over while he got situated in the bed, lying on his back.
The ogre situated you on his dick and let you ride him at your own pace.
After over an hour of riding him, you had cum several times but were still gripped with arousal. He had cum a few times too; your belly distended with cum that slowly leaked out of you and dripped down his shaft and nuts.
You started crying because you needed more but were just too tired.
Rahtrig wiped away your tears and let you lay on top of him and go gently to sleep as he kept his cock in you to fuck you to sleep.
Eventually his cum and the lube from the vial would wear off, though that could take days. You'd always crave his dick, though, no matter what after the first dose. Though you may still try to resist, it could take a while for you to bond with him.
He was sure you'd be the perfect wife eventually, though. Even if it took a while for you to be willing. All the humans who landed on the island settled in at some point.
#yandere teratophilia#my ocs#yandere terato#yandere x reader#monster boyfriend#yandere monster#yandere boyfriend#feminized male reader#male reader#x male reader#male yandere x male reader#My OC Rahtrig
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could you write bombshell!reader getting a tattoo of spencer’s name or something that reminds her of him and his reaction please?
“Why are you kissing me?” you mumble, your voice hoarse with sleep.
They’re light kisses. “I’m going now,” Spencer says, matching your quiet tone.
“No.”
You wrap your arm behind his neck and feel his hair against your wrist. His nose and lips warm your jaw.
“Yes.” He kisses your jaw. “I have to go, but I didn’t wanna leave without a kiss.”
That’s really sweet, he’s so sweet, you’re so tired. “Please don’t go, Spencer.”
“I have to go.” He readjusts your hugging to hum against your temple, distinctly content despite your pleading. “I’ll be back by six for dinner, promise.”
“Promise,” you say.
You get to keep him for a few minutes, regardless. His neck must sing bent as he is over you but he doesn’t relent, doesn’t move until you encourage his face back to kiss just under his bottom lip. “Sorry, I’m making you late,” you whisper.
“No, no, I accounted for this. You’re on my agenda.”
“How much time did you allot?” you ask through a smile.
“Seventeen minutes. That’s how long we usually hug in the morning.”
“Gotta get that time down,” you say.
“Or up.” He holds your face. You turn your head into his touch and keep him for just another half a minute.
“Okay,” you mumble, letting your eyes flutter closed again, “you can leave, I’m gonna go back to sleep.”
“Good idea.” He kisses you, and he says goodbye. You’re sleeping again before he’s even left your room
When you wake properly, you still feel loved, like a sunburn but with less stinging. There’s something very special about your boy; something permanent about the way he loves. You can’t imagine he’ll ever stop loving you like this, he’s embedded you so deeply into his life and his routines (and you’d beg him to keep you if he ever changed his mind). That in itself is crazy. You can’t have imagined begging a guy to let you stay, but for Spencer, you would.
When he comes home that night, half an hour before six, you have no regrets.
You hadn’t noticed how he was dressed when he left, but he looks lovely in just a simple t-shirt and jeans. Remarkably casual for him, you used to think he only wore t-shirts to bed, but the older he gets the better propensity he has for comfort. What makes it for you is the cardigan.
“You look nice,” you praise, more than satisfied when the first thing he does after he takes off his shoes is lean down to hug you where you’re sitting on his couch.
“Thank you.” He pats your back and pulls away. “You’re beautiful,” he says with ease, like he’s commenting on the weather. “Good day?”
Your lips pucker into a twist.
“What?” he asks.
Unfortunately, he sounds deeply worried.
“No, it’s nothing, I just hurt my arm. Can you have a look?”
Spencer takes your arm. “What did you do?” he asks, pulling the sleeve of your shirt carefully up to your elbow. The Saran wrap confuses him, until it doesn’t, and he grins at your skin, before frowning again. His flickering emotions worry you, until he says, “Is that mine?”
You hold your arm in the light. “Of course it’s yours?”
It’s just a few words from a note he wrote you, perhaps too soon into your relationship for sweetness, and yet one you kept anyways. He told you the story of the I Love You lighthouse, or rather, the Minot Ledge lighthouse, and how the man who lived there had to live on a different island to his family while tending the lighthouse, so he would flash the light once, then four times, and then three times, one flash for every letter of each corresponding word: I love you. The note was left on your dresser. You’d slept together the night before, but he had to leave early. Nowadays he wakes you up, but back then he’d been too shy.
I want to be able to do that for you but I can’t find a lighthouse in D.C. that will let me in to try. I’ll keep looking.
“I’ll keep looking,” Spencer reads. His thumb heistates just under your small font.
“It’s from that note you left me.”
“I know, I remember.” He does his awful frowny face where his eyelids lower and you're sure he’ll never smile again, he looks that upset. “You know this is permanent?”
“They do tend to be,” you say with a lovelorn sigh.
“I don’t know what to do. I don’t know if I should kiss you, or hug you, or… I don’t know why you’d do this.”
“But it’s okay?” you ask. It could make for a very awkward conversation if he doesn't like it.
“It’s perfect.” He holds your gaze. “You’re perfect.”
He acts like your tattoo is a gaping wound as he moves in to hug you, careful of your new ink, but relentless in the tightness of his arms behind your back. You laugh, then squeal at his insistence, a giggly girly thing that nobody else should ever hear but him. He doesn’t make fun of you, just squeezes you to him, his face pressed so hard to yours you can feel his cheekbones.
“Now I just have to say something romantic for you to get tattooed and we’ll be equal again.’
“So we aren’t equal?”
“Um, no way.” Your laugh is self-satisfied and breathless. You turn your lips to his cheek. “I love you. I’m gonna build you a lighthouse.”
“Can’t believe you kept that note.”
“I have a whole shoebox of them. I love that you write them.”
He stops holding himself up, half on the couch and half in your lap as he hugs you with every bit of strength in his arms.
#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction
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Omg imagine everyone outside watching the fireworks but you and JJ are fucking in his room and the lights from the fireworks illuminate him beautifully through the window 😩
PHEW!!! i have a few filled requests sitting in my drafts but i had to write this and get it posted today for the 4th! thank you pookie for this!<3
warnings: 18+!!! unprotected p in v sex, creampie, think that’s it!
“Ah, fuck, JJ, they’re gonna hear us.” You spoke between moans, face smushed into JJ’s pillow as he slammed his cock into you from behind, the loud sounds of skin slapping against skin (even louder than usual in this position) filling the room.
His grip on your hips was tight, his rings cool against your skin creating the perfect contrast to soothe the slight burn from his grip.
“It’s loud as shit out there, baby, the whole fuckin’ island lightin’ off fireworks right now, no one’s gonna hear us.” He assured you, not stopping his movements as he spoke, his voice shaky from his relentless speed.
He was right, it was loud as fuck outside. Fireworks had been going off for at least an hour now and they would surely continue throughout the evening, so you two weren’t missing much.
You didn’t plan on sneaking away with JJ, but apparently he did. Something along the lines of how you were “struttin’ around in that thin ass bikini all damn day.” But you had no complaints.
“I’m close, Jay, oh god.” You whined as his cock continued to hit that perfect spot inside of you, your stomach tightening by the second.
“Yeah? Let me see that pretty face.” He breathed, his hands quickly sliding up your waist, cock still deep inside of you as he flipped you around so you were on your back and you were looking into each other’s eyes.
He had only stopped his movements for maybe three seconds, quickly continuing where he left off, his strong arms planted on both sides of you head as he kept himself up, his abs contracting with every thrust. He was so fucking hot.
Through glossy eyes, you took a moment to really take in the sight of JJ above you. His blonde hair and tan skin was perfectly illuminated by a multitude of different colors that seeped in through the window from outside, fireworks in the distance as well as many that were much closer sparkling in the night sky. You were a done deal.
“Shit— I’m coming, don’t stop, don’t stop…” You whimpered, your orgasm exploding through your body, similar to the fireworks just outside the window.
Your pussy clenched hard around his cock as his thrusts grew more and more sloppy by the second, his gaze transfixed on your face, flushed cheeks and parted lips as a sequence of soft curses and moans fell from your lips as he fucked you through your orgasm.
“God, you’re so perfect, takin’ my dick so good. Fuckin’ Christ, gonna cum, baby.”
That was more than enough to bring him to his end as well, stilling inside of you as you felt his thick cock twitch, his balls now wet with your cum pressed against your ass as he bottomed out and released inside of you, long hot spurts filling you up.
He grunted loudly as he spilled inside of you, slowly thrusting his cock inside of you a few more times, fucking his cum deeper into your pussy.
You gasped at the feeling, not missing the loud squelching sounds made from his movements, a pool of both of your releases dripping out of you once he finally pulled out.
You were panting, your naked chest rising and falling rapidly as you worked to catch your breath, properly and perfectly fucked.
“Shit,” JJ breathed, dipping his head to kiss your swollen lips sweetly before leaning back and grabbing a towel to clean you up.
“God bless America, ain’t that right?”
“JJ, shut the fuck up.”
#jj maybank#jj maybank x reader#outer banks#jj maybank prompt#jj maybank one shot#jj maybank fanfiction#jj maybank fic#jj maybank imagine#jj maybank smut
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18+ loss of virginity, mentions of non-con, brief smut descriptions
⋆ ★ Thinking about how the Rafe's would take your virginity. <3
Season One Rafe would so take your V card at one of the kook parties, or maybe even in the secluded rec room at the Country Club during Midsummer's. Either way, I can see you losing your virginity to him in a public place. Somewhere where his friends are too, so after he fucks you, he can immediately boost about it.
Ugh, I could see it now, his stupid hair slicked back, his suit bluer than ever, and that silly smile on his face whispering into Topper's ear:
"Guess who I just had face down ass up on the pool table in the rec room." (Bonus points if you're the hottest girl on the island everyone's been trying to touch.)
He'd nag you about having sex with him, especially if you'd been talking to one another for months (Not dating. Talking.)
He would make pass after pass at you every time you'd make out with each other: His hand would sometimes snake its way underneath your skirt, and he'd press on your clothed mound with his thick fingers, or he would (very childishly) start popping you in the back with your bra strap to try to get you to take it off. He'd stopped when you went braless.
When telling season one Rafe that you were a virgin, you almost saw an uncontrollable smile creep onto his face--it's just something having ownership over ones very FIRST sexual interaction (This would be a recurring theme for him in each season.).
But with that being said, this man would not go soft on you.
Season Two Rafe, he's got a lot of shit on his plate: he wants to get in the good graces with his father, those stupid pouges have his gold, and he suspects that something could be wrong with him, but no one wants to listen to him. The last thing he needs is a girlfriend that won't put out.
In season two, Rafe knew you were a virgin, and he knew you'd been waiting until you had at least been together for a few months--which, surprisingly, he was okay with--as long as you two could do oral on each other--which you did.
But one day, a violent fight between Rafe and his father broke out on a date night.
You'd offer to reschedule the reservations you made for dinner--reschedule the whole day, but to your dismay, Rafe still wanted to go for it.
It wasn't until after dinner when you were both sitting outside of Tanny Hill in Rafe's truck, that Rafe got himself worked up going over the events from earlier with Ward.
It wasn't until you both were inside his house that he started complaining about other things--more evidently about you and your stupid virginity saving.
Nonetheless, you just let the boy rant because he was mad; it didn't stop you from your heavy make-out session on his bed later that night.
Something was particularly rough about this make-out session; every time he went to kiss your lips, his hand would wrap around your throat, and every time you protested, his other hand would cover your mouth.
In the moment, it only felt right to Rafe to overpower you completely, hiking up your dress and pulling down your panties to your knees, along with his slacks and his briefs.
He cooed you when you cried--as if he weren't the one inflicting your pain, he held you tight when you tried to push him away, and he'll whisper in your ear, "How could you hold out on me with such good pussy like this." every time you told him 'no."
You would almost lose your virginity to Season Three Rafe in a heated moment of vulnerability.
Rafe would open up to you about his troubles, which ultimately led to him telling you about the bad things he's done to the pouges—to his sister—in the past and how bad he felt.
And there was something so attractive about THEE kook king breaking down his exterior just for you.
When the moment got heated with a shared passionate kiss, as Rafe lips left a wet trail down your neck, you moaned, "Rafe, I'm a virgin." and then he stopped.
Rafe knew he wanted to take your virginity, but he didn't want to make any more brash decisions; he wanted your first time to be special.
A month or so later, he takes you with him on a business trip to Guadeloupe--he doesn't tell you what type of business he's doing; all you know is that when he's done, you can have him all to yourself.
And fuck is he so charming.
He rents a condo for you two, takes you shopping, and takes you to fancy dinners.
After being out all day, you'd come back to the condo with a trail of roses leading to the bedroom (very cheesy, but he's doing his best).
Now, don't get me wrong. Just because season three Rafe did take the liberty of making your first-time special doesn't mean he will go all soft on you.
He does let your cunt adjust to his length for a few slow strokes--until he's completely wrecking your shit--I'm talking about his tip kissing your cervix and him making you squirt for the first time.
#crookedteethed#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#drew starkey#fem reader#fanfiction#rafe cameron#rafe cameron headcanons#rafe outer banks#rafe obx#rafe x reader#outerbanks rafe#headcanon
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