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rafesangelita · 3 months ago

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₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 WHEN YOU KNOW, YOU KNOW | PROLOGUE

a pogue!sweetheart!reader series by rafesangelita ©

SUMMARY: nothing could’ve ever prepared you for the handsome kook that came crashing into your life.. quite literally. it’s hard to think that at one point you and rafe didn’t know one another, especially since you two have spent every passing day together for the last four months.

WARNINGS: drug use, driving under the influence, reckless driving, rafe arguing with ward, descriptions of a mild injury, mentions of addiction and sobriety, blood, reader tends to rafe’s wounds, fluff, opposite of slowburn, forced proximity (?), time skip (from four months ago to the current day), slight angst

AUTHOR’S NOTE: ahhhhh!! it’s finally here, and i couldn’t be more excited to share this with all of you!! all feedback is deeply appreciated <3 feel free to ask to be added to the taglist if you’d like!

LINKS: series masterlist | next chapter

WORD COUNT: 2.8k

rafe set a new record for himself tonight, and he wasn’t proud of it. not only did he lose count of the lines he snorted off of topper’s coffee table, he also had ward blowing up his phone. “aye, man, i don’t think you should be driving.” topper slurred, downing the alcohol in his glass. cleaning the residue from his nose, rafe shook him off, stumbling through the crowd of people in the living room before hopping in his truck and peeling out of the packed street.

jaw ticking, rafe cursed to himself when his phone started ringing, ward’s contact lighting up the screen. “i’m going home already, alright? yes— yes, dad! i know we have a meeting with some investors in the morning.. what? no i’m not fuckin’ high!” he rambled on, feigning offense when his father called his bluff. “just stop— i know, okay? i’ll be there in a minute—” before rafe could finish his sentence, he took a sharp turn, swerving onto the curb before hitting a light pole.

you were locking up the icecream parlor when you heard the high pitched squeal of tires against the pavement, a loud crash making you jump from your spot in front of the door. spinning on your heels, your eyes widened when you saw a black truck just feet away from the main street, smoke billowing from under the hood. unsure of what to do, you looked around to see if anyone was nearby, but of course, the strip was always empty at this time of the night.

“son of a bitch!” you heard someone groan before they tumbled out of the front seat, falling face down against the concrete. you gasped, dropping your purse before running across the street. “are you okay?!” you helped the stranger sit up, wincing when you saw blood dripping from his nose. he stared at you wide eyed, his pupils blown as you kneeled in front of him. he opened his mouth to speak but no words came out.

“it’s okay, you don’t have to say anything.” you reassured him, slipping off your cardigan before holding it against his nose. you noticed the open gash on his brow, your heart sinking when you saw his eyes soften. “we really need to get you to the emergency, do you have a phone?” rafe shook his head, leaning back against the tire of his truck. “no. well, yes, i have a phone.. somewhere.. but i can’t go to the emergency, not like this.” just then, rafe felt a sharp pain shoot up to his temple from his neck.

“yes, like this! you’re all scraped up.” you said incredulously. “no, i mean i’m not sober.” as if he was waiting for you to judge him, rafe watched as your expression didn’t falter. “i promise you, going to the emergency and getting help from a professional is a lot more better than not going at all. your truck can always be replaced; you can’t.” your words lit a fire in his chest, the sincerity in your tone making him crack a pained smile.

“i’ll go to jail for this, and i just can’t do that right now. i have to be somewhere in the morning, my dad will kill me if he finds out..” remembering that he was on the phone with ward before he crashed, he scrambled up to find the device, only to groan and plop back down on the street. still holding the pink cardigan to his head, you guided his hand to hold it for you. “what are you looking for? i can try to find it.” rafe let out a shaky breath, mumbling “my phone.” before you got up and spotted it near the tire.

turning it over, you held it up for him to see. it was completely shattered. “i don’t think it’s going to work..” you handed it to him, a bitter laugh falling from his lips. “what the fuck?” he breathed out, holding his head in his hands. you’ve never seen someone look so defeated before, your feet moving on their own before you could think. “do you think you can walk? my place is only five minutes away.” rafe looked up like he couldn’t believe the words that just came out of your mouth.

“your place?” he repeated, half shocked and half confused as to why you’d offer him help. “yes,” you nodded, taking his hand in yours, “i don’t have a phone there, but i can at least get you cleaned up..” rafe tried to weigh out his options, only to realize he didn’t have any. “are you sure?” he was truly at your mercy. “yes. here— just keep holding this to your head, let me go get my purse and we can be on our way.” you left him with your cardigan, running across the street and grabbing your bag before getting him up.

“i’m a lot stronger than i thought.” you joked, attempting to lighten the mood as you wrapped one of rafe’s arms around your shoulders. “fuck, what about my truck?” rafe leaned his weight on you, nearly making you topple over before you took a step. “someone will find it and call a tow, you could call the towing company tomorrow,” you explained to him, “do you have anything valuable in there?” rafe laughed, shaking his head. “just my piece of shit phone that has no value now.” he grunted, walking with a slight limp.

“hey, uhm, what’s your name?” rafe looked down at you, both of you sharing a glance before he looked away. despite him not being in the right state of mind, there was no doubting how insanely pretty you were. “y/n.. and yours?” why on earth were you getting butterflies right now? “rafe.” was all he replied before he started asking you an abundant amount of questions. rafe learned a lot about you in the short five minute walk to your camper. what you did for a living, where you currently worked for some extra money, what your hobbies consisted of.. along with being a pogue.

“so.. you live all alone in this pink camper in the middle of the woods? aren’t you scared some psycho will come across it and want to know who’s inside?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “a psycho?” you flashed him a playful smile, “like you?” rafe watched as you unlocked the small screen door, a chuckle threatening to slip from his throat. “i would laugh if it didn’t feel like i had a thousand needles stabbing me in my brain right now.” he swallowed thickly, accepting the hand you offered him to step in.

he was immediately hit with the smell of freshly baked cake and vanilla frosting. he loved it. “i know it’s really small in here, but you could just take a seat right there on that little couch and i’ll go get my first aid kit.” rafe did as you said, eyes darting around your space. pink florals, white lace trim, usually he’d be irked by this kind of decor, but for some reason unbeknownst to him, he didn’t mind it this time. rafe leaned back on the soft sofa, settling into the cushions while you scrambled for the little first aid kit somewhere in your bathroom.

spotting the small box on your little shelf, you grabbed it before making your way back to where rafe was sitting. he opened his eyes momentarily, finding you even more pretty now that darkness didn’t surround you two. he kept his gaze on you, watching as you took your bottom lip between your teeth. “sorry about this..” rafe took the pink cardigan away from his head, the fabric now stained with blood. “oh, don’t worry about it,” you smiled, “you needed it more than i did.”

pressing a damp cloth to his nose, rafe groaned when you applied the slightest bit of pressure. “i’m sorry!” you pouted, taking a seat next to him. rafe reassured you he was alright, a groan leaving his lips as he clutched his stomach. eyebrows knitting in confusion, you lifted his shirt, your eyes widening at the sight. he was scraped and bruised, a small wound adorning his lower abdomen. “here, lets get this off.” you pulled rafe’s t-shirt over his head, both of your cheeks heating at the compromising position.

“we could stop if this is too weird for you—” you shook your head, taking an ice pack out of your freezer. “no, it’s okay.” you pressed the cold bag to his skin, still wiping away the dried blood on his face. “i’m not sure how far you live, but i don’t think it’s a good idea for you to walk anywhere.” your voice was barely above a whisper, the sound of it soothing rafe more than any kind of medicine he could take right now. “don’t worry about me, i’ll be fine.” rafe watched your fingers dance across his stomach, your nails sparkling underneath the dim lighting of your camper.

you thought for a moment. “i guess what i’m trying to say is; i think you’re better off staying the night here..” you trailed off, meeting his gaze, “you’ll be able to get to a phone in the morning and call whoever you need to. you should just get some rest right now.” rafe was stunned. you wanted him to stay? “i don’t know..” he sounded uneasy, not because he didn’t want to, but because he couldn’t help but feel like he was imposing. “it’s okay, i swear! you could take my bed since there’s no way you’ll be able to sleep on this little thing.”

“no, no way, i’m fine with sleeping on the floor.” you smiled at him, eyes flickering down to his lips. “no, really, it’s okay, rafe.” he liked the way his name sounded rolling off of your tongue, “i’ve fallen asleep plenty of times over here, i’ll be fine on the couch.” you got up, wringing out the towel you were using to clean him up. “i just have one rule, though,” rafe held the ice pack to his stomach, humming as you grabbed some ointment and a couple of bandages.

“you can only lay in my bed if you’re clean.. and you need a shower.” the corner of rafe’s lips quirked. “if you want to see me naked all you have to do is ask.” you blinked, pushing his chest softly. “that’s not what i meant.” you giggled. “i’ll get you a change of clothes, just get in there for right now.” rafe was already too far in to look back. getting up with your assistance, you guided rafe to the bathroom before shutting the door behind him. “there’s clean towels and wash rags on the shelf!” you called from the kitchen, yawning as all of tonight’s events started to catch up with you.

rafe didn’t know what to make of all of this. one minute he was high out of his mind, crashing into a light pole with his dad on the phone, and the next he was inside some gorgeous girl’s camper getting tended to before using a strawberry scented body wash in her shower. what the fuck was his luck? taking his time in the shower, rafe thought about how he’d explain everything to ward tomorrow, from the towed truck to the cuts and bruises.

he wondered if ward would even care.

by the time rafe was done, he was stepping out of the bathroom smelling like a slice of strawberry cake with nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist. he glanced over at the couch, your back facing him as you slept soundlessly. moving aside the pink curtain that concealed the doorway to your room, rafe slipped into the sweatpants you left out for him, settling underneath your silky soft sheets shortly after.

how was it that you just happened to be the only person around when he crashed? how did he crash right in front of where you worked? and why were you being so nice to him? rafe had so many questions and couldn’t think of any logical answers. he didn’t believe in fate, but looking back on it, that seems to be the only explanation. the next day he woke up to his clothes freshly washed and wearable again, your music playing softly in the kitchen. “good morning!” you chirped, your hair and makeup already done for the day.

“hey..” rafe was still shirtless, his eyes following your every move. “what time is it?” he took a seat at the little booth by the wall, his head no longer pounding the way it did last night. “it’s about to be ten. i was debating if whether or not i should’ve woken you up earlier, but you really needed to sleep.” you leaned back against the counter, admiring the handsome man in your camper. “your wallet should also be with your clothes there on that chair,” you started, “..so i was thinking; the little store just right outside of these woods has a pay phone that you can use.”

rafe nodded. “yeah, that sounds good.” he couldn’t think of the last time he woke up without not wanting the day to be over with already. “hey, listen— uhm, i owe you a huge one for everything you’ve done for me.. i apologize if it was an inconvenience in any way, but i really do appreciate you.” rafe got up, grabbing his wallet from your room. “here. please take it.” you looked down at the hundred dollar bills tucked between his fingers, shaking your head as you moved his hands away.

“absolutely not.” you laughed. “no, please, take it.” rafe got closer, opening one of your palms before closing it around the bills. “rafe, i don’t want it!” you backed away, “i’m serious.” rafe let out a sigh. he already knew how this would go, so instead of urging you to keep it, he placed the money on your dresser after he was done changing. “well i guess i’ll be leaving now.” you masked the disappointment on your face by offering him a smile. “yeah, i guess so..” without saying a word, you and rafe stared at each other before he wrapped his arms around you, the action giving you butterflies.

before you could say or do anything, he pulled away and left, leaving your camper feeling more emptier than usual. you walked over to the door where you watched him walk away until you couldn’t see him anymore, a pout on your lips as you did so. while you were sure that you would more than likely never see him again, you couldn’t have been more wrong. that day was the first of approximately one hundred and twenty one days, and counting, that you two would spend together. rafe came back to you the next day with a brand new pink cardigan to replace the other one you so selflessly let him ruin.

one icecream date turned into several, which then progressed into him coming over to your place with an overnight bag, his very own toothbrush now taking a spot next to yours. which then led to him picking you up and dropping you off at work, and so on until he finally said that you were his. you two spent the entire summer underneath the trees, rolling around in the grass as you two gasped each other’s names into your mouths, sharing sweet kisses and an even sweeter love that continued to grow with no intentions of ever stopping.

rafe had gotten sober out of fear that he wouldn’t remember what a love like this felt like if he was high all the time, and without judgement, you were there with him every step of the way. you stayed by his side when he felt like all hope was lost, and for that he could never thank you enough. although ward wondered where rafe would go off to, he didn’t bring himself to care as long as he was doing what he needed to do for the family business. with his dad off of his back, and you to come ‘home’ to everyday, he could say that he was finally, truly happy.

even now as you two sat in your favorite diner, sharing a milkshake and laughing at whatever the other was saying, you felt no worries when you and rafe were together, your heart threatening to burst at the seams everytime you looked at him. everything was perfect.. at least for now. all good things must come to an end, and when you two are threatened by none other than ward himself, the love bubble you two have been mindlessly floating in is suddenly popped.

taglist: @percysley @oceandriveab @archiveofvirtue @weirdowithnobeardo @mattyskies @ankoluvly @cnnamongrl @b3bybunny @littlelamy @nemesyaaa @lovinqbella @jeonmochi99-blog @corpsebridenightamare @whorelaud @mymvlody @idontknowwhyimhere33 @ursovaine

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gloomwitchwrites · 4 months ago

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thinking about the 141 when you get nipple piercings and they can’t touch your nipples for four months

For clarity, I do not have my nipples pierced. Don't ever plan on it, but we can imagine that we did and what the guys think. I did do a little research, and I saw a wide variety of healing times, so instead of four months, I kept any mention of the healing process vague. The concept is the same though. I had a lot of fun with this one y'all. Enjoy it. :)

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Presented in four double drabbles.

Task Force 141 x Reader (can be read as gn!reader)

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): established relationship, brief dirty talk, suggestive themes, swearing, fade to black

Word Count: 800

ao3 // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

John Price

"You're not putting a shirt on."

“What are you talking about?”

“We’re at home. And I want to see them.”

“I’m putting a shirt on,”

John is quick, snatching the shirt out of your grasp. You start to protest, but John tosses it onto the highest shelf in the closet.

“You’re childish.” You gesture at the rest of the shirts on hangers. “And I have other shirts!”

John shrugs. “I’ll hide them all.”

"I fucking swear, John."

"Or tear them all up."

You smack his chest but John only chuckles. He’s having a go at you. A laugh.

"If I can't touch them, then I bloody well better be able to see them."

"You're ridiculous."

John carefully caresses a nearby path of skin near the piercing. "You got them for me," he purrs. "And I want to see them on display at all times." His hand settles on your waist, drawing you in. He leans in, lips lightly pressed to your ear. “Especially when my head is between your legs.”

Heat rapidly warms your neck, heading for your cheeks. John notices your sudden flustered demeanor.

“That sound good to you, love?”

You nod, and John guides you to the bed.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

"I can't touch them?" asks Kyle, sounding disappointed.

"Nope."

"Not at all?”

“Eventually. But not right now.”

Kyle frowns at your chest, his gaze on the shiny metal. "Do they hurt?"

You wince slightly. "Mostly sore. The pain killers help."

Kyle nods and then glances up at your face. "How do you care for them?"

You rattle off a list of things and then hand him the paper the piercer gave you. Kyle takes it, looking it over as you go over everything, repeating it verbatim.

The small frown on his face turns into an upward smirk. "I can help with this,” he says, voice almost sultry.

"You can," you say slowly, taking the paper and placing it on the counter.

"So I can touch them. If I help.”

"Not in the way you're thinking, Kyle," you scold, knowing exactly where his mind is drifting off to.

"But I still get to touch them?"

"Only to help me,” you correct. “Not for any other reason.”

He sighs, voice a little breathy as he speaks to himself. “I can wait to suck on those gorgeous nipples.”

“Kyle Garrick! I heard that!”

He snags the paper off the counter, hiding his grin.

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’re having a laugh.”

“Am I?”

"I can't touch them?"

"Nope."

"Not even a little bit?"

"No, Johnny. Not even a little bit."

Johnny lays on his side facing you with one elbow propped under him. He rests his head in his hand. Johnny’s gaze is locked on to your bare chest and the new metal there. The piercings are only a few days old, and they’re fucking sore.

"They're sensitive right now," you continue, wincing slightly when you move, adjusting the way you recline on the bed.

"Aye. I see," he murmurs, leaning closer, gaze narrowing as he focuses on your new piercings. The middle of his brow creases as if he's intensely considering something.

"What is it?" you ask. "You look very serious."

Johnny's gaze doesn't leave your chest. "I'm thinking about all the ways I'm going to play with those beauties."

Heat rushes to your face. “Be fucking for real right now.”

His mouth morphs into a sly smile. Johnny’s gaze shifts from your chest to your face. “Need a distraction?”

“What are you on about?”

Johnny shifts, forcing your legs open as he slots between them. “A distraction,” he purrs. “From your soreness. And my thoughts.”

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon stands behind you, watching you in the bathroom mirror from over your shoulder.

"Do you need help?" he asks, gaze unmoving.

"I'm fine, Simon."

He is quiet a moment before he speaks again. "I can’t touch them?"

"Not for a month. Possibly more. Healing is different for everyone."

You hear his annoyed grunt but his gaze doesn't leave you. It remains firmly planted on your newly pierced nipples.

"How sensitive are you?" he asks, taking a tiny step closer. Simon’s hand rests on your waist as you gently clean around the piercing.

"I’m sore. Nothing terrible."

Simon's head dips, lips pressing to your neck as his arms drape around you. "I can't touch them." It’s not a question, more like he’s speaking to himself.

"Nope,” you murmur.

Simon’s sigh has a hint of a growl in it. "Just means I'll have to give extra attention to everything else." His hands descend, and you bite back a groan as he touches you.

Simon's lips press to your ear. "I'll give you attention everywhere.” One hand comes up to trace a line near the piercing. “Except here.” His hand drops away, returns to between your legs. “You’ll be begging for me.”

taglist:

@glitterypirateduck @km-ffluv @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@ferns-fics @tulipsun-flower @miss-mistinguett @ninman82 @eternallyvenus

@beebeechaos @smileykiddie08 @whisperwispxx @chaostwinsofdestruction @weasleytwins-41

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@sammysinger04 @kylies-love-letter @dakotakazansky @suhmie @kadeeesworld

@keiva1000 @jackrabbitem @arrozyfrijoles23 @lovely-ateez @waves-against-a-cliff

@ash-tarte @marispunk @gingergirl06 @certainlygay @greeniegreengreen

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k1mbe3rly · 2 months ago

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could you do a fic with a bimbo/bubbly ready, where thanos and nam-gyu are both trying to sleep with her (thinking it'll be easy) but all her focus is on min su or se mi (your pick - or both) and is super giggly and flirty with them (your choice is smut or not)

ouu yess, i started this Saturday morning so im not sure when this would get out cause i was lowkey thinking how i was gonna start ittt😭

Who do you pick? (maybe both👀)

no warnings, pairings: Se-mi, Min-su

i MIGHT do part 2 of this but smut, Se-mi or Min-su, or a threesome ⚠️LMKK⚠️

⚠️short!! sorry😢 i have a lot more ideas with smut 😓⚠️

You caught Thanos and Nam-gyu eye by honeslty just being yourself, you were trying to get by the games but still having a bubbly personality, helping everyone out, and talking to everyone, always smiling after the games or sometimes ever during them if one or two crack a jokes to make these death games less scary, unfortunately, Se-mi and Min-su caught your eye, so obviously you made your move a bit flirting here and there

While you were talking to the both of them you heard a voice, “Ay, señorita~”, you turned around in confusion seeing a purpled hair guy and another guy next to him, you fully turned your body to face them “How about you ditch these losers and come team with us? we’ll keep you nice and safe” he said smirking and eyeing you and down, “And maybe a bit of.. fun while we at it?” His friend chimed in, you chucked “Uh.. and yall are?” you said crossing your arms, “The LEGEND thanos. but for you, you can call me ‘daddy’” he said raising his eyebrows up and down “And this, this is my friend Nam-Su!” he said slapping his friend chest a bit “Dude…it’s Nam-Gyu.” he said staring at him and slight lung throwing his head back, “Nam-gyu, Nam-su, same shit” Thanos corrected, your stared blankly at them both

“So, what do you say baby girl? wanna come join us? maybe in bed.. or the bathrooms?” Nam gyu said nodding his head at you “Uh well maybe not.. soo sorry boys” you said smiling at them, “What? well fuck you slut!” Nam gyu quickly said as Thanos slapped his chest “Dude..i got this, i’m a great convincer” he said whispering to him, Nam gyu just nodded, “Cmon señorita~ it’ll be fun, i’ll even let you take control and anything you know what i’m saying?” thanos said “Between me and you, yea i feel the power, to me your my beauty flower” he said winking at you as he did some rap rhyme, you stared at him, looking back at min-su and se-mi you chuckled a bit, you turned back at them

“Sorry..not interested” you said lowly, “Ah shit.. let’s get out here” Thanos said as he basically dragged Nam gyu with him in embarrassment

You laughed a bit and finally faced your attention to Se-mi and Min-su “Wow, seems like you’ve got almost everyone wrapped around your finger huh?” Se-mi said sounding almost jealous, you shrugged “I mean i wouldn’t say that, besides it’s not like i’m interested in them” you simply said sitting on the stairs, “Yea? whys that?” She said back, “Just not my type, or they didn’t catch my eyes, either way, someone already catched my eye” you said back looking at Se-mi, making direct eye contact with her than looked towards Min-su winking at him as he let out a small gasp and looked away

You chuckled, “What? your into Min-su?” Se-mi said frowning a bit, “I didn’t say that directly. Many people could catch my eye you know” you said leaning into her and slightly rubbing her thigh a bit, she raised an eyebrow at you and smirked she hummed, “5 minutes until lights out” The speaker went off, you got up “Well..ima start heading to bed, let’s go Min-Su” you said motioning him, since yalls bed were next to eachother, Min- su quickly got up obediently and followed, you begin walking and looked back at se-mi and smirked.

#squid game #squid game season 2 #squid game smut #squid game x reader #nam gyu #squid game s2 #park min su #min su smut #min su x reader #min su squid game #player 125 #se mi squid game #se mi x reader #se mi #Se mi smut #player 380 #player 380 x reader #choi su bong #thanos squid game

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loveindefinitely · 1 year ago

Text

01 — 𝘎𝘖 𝘈𝘏𝘌𝘈𝘋 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘊𝘙𝘠, 𝘓𝘐𝘛𝘛𝘓𝘌 𝘎𝘐𝘙𝘓

༊*·˚ LUST FOR LIFE — task force 141 x reader

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, legal age-gaps, inexperienced reader, virgin reader, corruption kink, slight power imbalance, praise, degradation, light dom/sub, slight daddy kink, oral, vaginal sex, your father's a dick, very minor soapghost, aftercare

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

Stay in your room, your father had said. Don't bother us tonight, your father had said. They are dangerous men that do dangerous things, your father had said.

Yet, here you were, standing at the bottom step of the stairwell, hiding behind the wall adjoined to the living room, listening in to the men on the other side.

You were bored out of your brains. It was a Friday night, and like hell was your over-protective father going to let you go out or party. And the fact that he wouldn't even introduce you to his only friends? Or let you leave your fucking room?

It had left you pissed off to no end, so.

Here you were.

"Bloody close," you hear a voice grunt, deep and gravelly. It sends heat to your stomach immediately, and it's almost embarrassing.

You hear the sound of a hand slapping a shoulder, and the bark of a laugh. "Aye, still got the cash you're gonna owe me?" This voice has a -- Irish? Scottish, maybe? -- lilt to it, humour and kindness embedded into its layers.

"He'll find a way outta paying," a third voice chimes, laughter in its tone.

Someone else clears their throat. "You're all gonna get yourselves indebted to each other at this rate," a fourth voice says, sounding almost resigned.

"You all need to shut the fuck up before she sticks her nose down 'ere."

Your spine straightens, and fury simmers in your blood. Did he have to be such an asshole? Why was your father so... so anti your existence? Why was he so ashamed of you, yet so overbeating?

"She's not a kid anymore, you really oughtta to lay off," the man with the scottish accent says, slightly stern in his delivery.

"If you met her, you'd understand how fuckin' annoying she is. Always wants me to deal with her emotions, as if they're my fuckin' problem," your father replies venomously. Your stomach has dropped to your feet, you're sure of it.

There's a low whistle in response, and a silence settles behind the wall. An unsettling one, full of animosity. The fact that you can tell that from behind the wall says a lot.

"I'm gonna go out and get some drinks. Maybe some dinner. Needa get out of this fuckin' house for a bit," your father says with a grunt, sounding like he's gotten up from the couch. "Call if you lot need anythin' while I'm out."

A few grunts of agreement, and after a few seconds, the front door opens and slams shut.

You let out a small breath of tense relief, eyes fluttering shut as you deeply exhale. The immediate relief of having your father out of the house is immense.

"I feel bad for her," you hear the third man speak, voice quiet and low. "You hear how he speaks about her -- what's he like with her?"

"Gaz, whatever you're thinkin', drop it," the first speaker grits out, impatient and tight.

"He's right," the scottish one says with a huff, "Poor kid. She's legal and he isn't letting her out on a Friday night? 'Nd he fuckin' wonders why she's upset."

"He must have his... reasons," the fatherly voice of the fourth speaker says, although his tone says otherwise.

You swallow, slowly creeping off of the bottom step and onto the wooden floors. Front pressed to the wall, you move just the slightest bit, to allow yourself a small peak into the loungeroom.

There are four men, like you'd expected, and they're...

They're big. There's no other word that comes to mind, except for big. Tall, broad, packed with muscle. Military-grade men.

Your mouth is suddenly parched of any moisture, and your brain turns to putty.

Selfishly, stupidly, you spend another dangerous moment to admire the four. The couch curves, the four of them seated on it, facing the TV hung on the wall. They're backs are to you.

Or.

One second, they're all blissfully turned the other way, and in the next, one's head turns, and deep brown eyes meet yours.

Your eyes go wide, and you immediately dart for the stairs, heart in your throat.

Rushing up, trying to stay quiet but still hurrying, you make it to your room in record time. You shut the door behind you, chest tight and breaths harried as your back presses to the wood.

Stupid, stupid girl, you think.

They are dangerous men who do dangerous things.

That's what your father had said, wasn't it? So what were you thinking, risking a look? For what purpose?

Then, there's a knock on your door.

Your eyes go impossibly wide, and your lips purse together as you slowly move away from the door. With one breath, you train your face into a pleasant, kind smile as you slowly open the door, only allowing a bit of your room to be shown.

"You're his daughter, ain't ya?"

You have to crane your neck, eyes going up, and up, and up, until you meet the man's eyes.

The skull balaclava shouldn't cause your face to heat, or your breaths to quicken, but they do.

"I -- um, yes, I'm really sorry for eavesdropping," you mumble, eyes flitting to the floor and hand squeezing the door in an anxious gesture.

A hand grabs your chin, forcing your gaze to meet the man's chocolate eyes once more. They're imploring, impossibly so, and your thighs squeeze together against your better judgement.

"Come watch the game with us," he says, and although the sentence isn't a demand, it feels like one.

So, like the good girl you are, you nod, his grip loosening as you do.

You forget that you're in your tiniest sleep shorts and your thinnest tank top as you follow him down the stairs, his large hand resting on your lower back.

This was the most touch you'd ever felt from a man that wasn't in a familial way, and your nerve-endings feel like they've been electrocuted.

Whatever conversation that was happening silences as soon as the two of you walk into the lounge room, your hands squeezing each other painfully tight.

Your anxiety was warranted in this situation, wasn't it? Surely, it was okay to be scared of four men whom you'd never met.

Four sets of eyes are trained to your body, and there's a slight tremble in your hands as you sit in the spot balaclava had gestured towards.

It seats you in the middle of the four of them, and your heart beats impossibly faster as you settle into the leather, feeling so small in comparison to the men surrounding you.

It's a new, albeit not entirely terrible, feeling.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" The man furthest to your left asks, and when you meet his eyes, they're warm and kind. His lower face is mostly covered in a beard, and he's wearing a light brown hat.

You bite at your inner cheek, gaze flicking back to your thighs as you weakly say your name.

Their gazes burn your skin, like a living force, and your hands form nervous fists in your lap. The warm yellow light of the living room lamp creates a warm, safe ambience that doesn't exactly fit the emotions swirling inside of you.

You flinch only slightly when a warm hand moves to rest on your knee, the thumb rubbing comforting circles on it that ease your tight muscles slightly.

When you look to the owner of the hand, it's to see a warm grin and a faux mohawk.

"You're so tense, lass," he says, his mouth quirking into a knowing smirk. "We don't bite."

"Don't speak for all of us, Soap," the man sitting on your close left says with a charming grin, his eyes meeting yours when you turn to him. "I'll ask nicely, love, don't worry."

You nod, slowly, in some sort of trance. This entire situation doesn't feel entirely real, more like a figment of your deepest desires.

Ones you've never let yourself think about, except for the darkest of nights and the dirtiest of feelings.

"Don't scare the girl," the man with the balaclava says, eyes narrowing on the two men beside you.

"Says the one with the fuckin' mask, ya weirdo," the scottish one says with a scoff of a chuckle. Your mouth pulls into a soft grin without you realising, and the hand on your knee tightens ever so slightly.

"I'm Price," the man who you've deemed the most sensible of the group says with a warm smile. His head gestures to each of the other three men respectively. "That's Gaz, Soap, and Ghost."

You can't say that you're all too familiar with the names, nor how...different they are, but you nod nonetheless, reserving the names in your memory.

"Father dearest never talked about us?" Gaz asks, eyebrows softly furrowing in question.

You shake your head, almost apologetic in the movement. "He doesn't like to tell me much, he's, ah... private."

There's a few returning grunts of understanding, and they settle your nerves just a little bit more. For men of their size, they were surprisingly good at keeping you feeling safe and comfortable.

"What're you doin' all alone on a Friday night? Pretty young thing like you, 'nd you're not at a club? A date?" Soap asks, and if you notice that he's moved just the slightest bit closer to you, you don't say a word.

You feel your face heat, and you murmur out your reply. "Never been to either," you admit, pulling at a thread in your sleep shorts with nervous jerks.

Ghost settles further into his chair, legs spread in an almost dominant way. "Surely you've at least had your first kiss?"

If you could get anymore embarrassed, you're sure you'll combust on the spot.

You softly shake your head.

"Aw, love, you're adorable," Gaz says, a hint of a smirk on his features. His dark eyes glimmer in the light, and you lick your bottom lip to wet it.

Price's arms rest on his knees, and his eyes seem trained on you, debating some sort of inner conflict, before they firm with some kind of resolution. "Y'know, we've been training rookies lately," he states, but with a knowing undertone that everyone in the room seems to pick up on except for you.

"That we have," Ghost says, his voice sending shivers down your spine as he nods in agreement with Price.

"How about we train you, bonnie?" Soap asks, his hand moving just the slightest bit higher on your thigh.

You swallow, mouth dry.

"Um. Like, train me... how?" You ask, although there's some part of your brain that knows all too well what area they're thinking of.

Gaz's hand moves to sit at the nape of your neck, stroking in soothing movements that leave your eyes half-closed and glassy. "How about I show you how to kiss, love?"

Your stomach hollows, and your chest rises and falls in heavy beats. Nervously looking around the room, you squeeze your eyes shut as you nod shortly.

Soap's hand tightens around your thigh, a barely hidden warning. "Words, baby, or you're goin' back to your room."

The threat instantly has words flying out of your mouth. "Yes. Please. Just... be gentle?"

All four men seem to huff a laugh at that, but Gaz nods, dimples showing as his smirk deepens. "I can do that."

He pulls you in, and your eyes flutter shut as his lips meet yours.

The feeling leaves you entirely dazed, your nervous system alighting with signals as your thoughts seem to pause, if only for a second. It's nothing like you'd expected, and butterflies erupt in your lower stomach.

He pulls away, not having breached your mouth, and you must look as out of it as you feel because he laughs.

"That good, love?" He asks, teasing and entirely prideful.

You nod, a bit too fast and enthusiastic, before his hand pulls away from your nape. The loss is mourned, briefly, before your attention pulls away from Gaz and instead to Soap.

"Gotta learn from all of us," is all he says, before his lips crush against your own. Where Gaz was tentative and soft, Soap is all energy and desperation.

His hand squeezes your thigh, and when it had moved from your knee to pushing against your tiny shorts, you haven't an idea.

You can't find it in yourself to care, with his relentless attack on your mouth, your lips, your mind.

When he pulls away, you realise it's because Ghost's moved to stand, and his hand is in a tight fist in Soap's hair, pulling his face away from yours.

"Actin' like a fuckin' mutt," Ghost mutters, tone laced with vitriol. It's degrading, and yet Soap doesn't seem phased in the slightest.

You're about to inquire about that when your attention's caught by Price, his knees spread and patting his thigh. "C'mere, sweetheart," he says, and like a dog on a leash, you do.

His unbelievably large hands grab your hips as he seats you in his lap, and with how he's got his legs spread, it forces you to sit over his groin.

It's a compromising position, and the heat that rushes to your core is an entirely unknown feeling.

He doesn't move his hands from your body as his eyes devour it, before they meet your gaze with a warmth to them that has you shivering.

"Show me what the boys have taught you, hm?" He says, and with shut eyes and a stiff movement, you press your lips to his.

He groans, pleased, his thumbs rubbing circles where your skin's been revealed by your tank top. No one's ever touched you there, not in this way, and it has your pussy wet.

When he pulls away, he licks at his lips, as if he's devouring your taste.

"You're so pretty, sweetheart, mm? No wonder your father's got you all locked up," he says, and the reminder of the source of your anger has you wanting to do entirely too reckless things.

Like kissing the four men he warned you about.

Like doing more, maybe.

...Maybe.

His hands force your hips down, and you let out a small whimper when your clit presses against his belt buckle, the action sending pleasure shooting up your spine.

He raises a brow, catching the change in expression and your small sound. "What's wrong, pretty?"

And then, he pulls you down again, deeper this time, and the movement has your breath hitching, core burning with need.

"Oh, you naughty little girl," he says, and the words have your mind turning into some sort of mouldable clay, entirely able to be controlled by whatever these men wanted to make of it. "So needy, ain't ya?"

Someone presses against you from behind, and a belt buckle presses against your lower back.

"My turn to feel those lips, innit?" Ghost says from behind, leaning down to whisper his next words next to your ear. "See what all the fuss 's about."

The idea that you're being passed around, like you're some kind of... of whore has you entirely speechless in the most positive of ways.

You feel filthy, and you love it.

Leaning your head back, you manage to make eye contact with the large man, before his lips press to yours, upside down.

He devours, all encompassing, his tongue slipping into yours without any hesitance. You're clumsy, unsure, but he makes up for it with experience and dominance. The entire act has you woozy, needy for more of them, more of their touch.

You don't expect for Price to start forcibly rotating your hips, forcing you to grind against his lap, but it forces a moan from your mouth, the sound getting devoured by Ghost's overpowering tongue.

"Who knew she'd be such a desperate slut?" Gaz asks, as if you're not there, as if you're just something to be observed. It causes another moan to leave your mouth, and Ghost detaches himself from you with a grunt of his own.

"Think she liked that," Soap says, amused and proud, in a strange sort of way. "Wanna be used, baby? Taken by men nearly twice your age?"

"Yes," you say, on a groan as Price's motions speed up, the pleasure so new and different and good.

Then, he stops, and a whine comes out of you before you can stop it.

Price makes a condescending noise in response. "Poor babygirl needs all the attention, hey? Needs her little pussy played with?"

"She looks like a goddamn mess, cap," Gaz says, his hand coming up to rest on your head. He gives comforting pats, not unlike one would with an obedient puppy.

Ghost's hands come around your waist, and before you even process what he's doing, he rips your sleep shorts in half, leaving you completely bare.

"Didn't think to wear panties, dumb girl?" Ghost asks with an appreciative groan, his large hand cupping your now exposed pussy.

With a whimper, you shake your head, your eyes squeezed shut at the embarrassment and nudity. No one had ever seen it before, and now, four of your father's friends were getting an eyeful.

"Lemme see if she's nice 'n wet for us," Soap murmurs, picking you up from Price's lap in a princess carry.

It doesn't even last two seconds before he's splaying you over the now empty couch, your hands pathetically covering your most private of areas.

"None of that, sweetheart," Price says with a 'tsk', grabbing both of your wrists in one hand and pinning them to the couch above your head, leaving you effectively defenceless to the men.

Soap's hand moves down your stomach, before he pauses for just a moment. "This okay, baby?"

You nod, because yes, this is most definitely okay.

Gaz gives you a stern look, so you quickly fix your mistake. "I -- yes, sir, it's okay."

There's a surrounding sound of approval, and Soap smirks from where he stands beside your hips. "Sir, aye? Like the sound of that."

With that, his finger slides down your pussy, and your eyes shut with a soft moan. His hands are rough, scarred, calloused from years of work on the field, and they're so much larger than your own.

"Think she likes it, sir," Ghost says, taunting Soap, whose eyes are completely transfixed on your glistening pussy.

"Not the only one," Price says with an approving murmur, his hand tightening around your wrists. The sense of powerlessness has you aching with desire.

Soap's finger continues to rub against your slit, not breaching your entrance, instead continuing to tease and amplify his touch. Your eyes are shut, too embarrassed to look at the mess you're likely causing on the fabric, and too nervous to see the expression on the men's faces.

"Do you play with your lil cunt often, princess?" Ghost says, voice darkened with lust.

Your face feels like it's burning, but you nod. "Sometimes. I -- ah," you break off with a moan as Soap's thumb presses against your swollen clit.

"Be a good girl and answer when spoken to, love," Gaz says with a sound of disappointment that has you aching to amend your mistake.

"I'm sorry, sir, I, yes. Sometimes 'm just needing to, um, y'know..." You trail off, trying to preserve any amounts of dignity you had left. You were aware that masturbation was normal, but you'd never discussed it with a single soul, and talking about it felt like laying your soul bare.

Price's other hand moves to gently brush your hair from your face, the gesture so at odds with Soap's sensual movements.

You're about to say something, what, you aren't exactly sure, when Soap's finger roughly enters your soaked pussy. A loud whimper escapes your lips at the sudden intrusion, and the sheer size difference of his finger compared to your own.

"Aww, baby, it's alright," Soap coos, and it's so fucking condescending. It's cruel, almost, as if you're so dumb that you can't even form your own thoughts.

Which is, honestly, more true than you're willing to admit.

"'Atta girl," Ghost groans when your whimpers only increase with every thrust of Soap's finger.

Gaz's hand moves down to replace Soap's thumb on your clit, using the pads of his fingers to roughly circle around it. That sensation, mixed with Soap's intrusion, has your back arching slightly from the couch.

"Think she's close, Cap," Gaz says, conversationally, again treating you like you're not entirely capable of voicing your own feelings or thoughts.

"Mm, that right, sweetheart? Close already?" Price echoes, the hand not around your wrists going to squish your cheeks together, causing your lips to pucker. "What a pathetic girl, hm?"

Those words, those demeaning, humiliating words, only stoke the fire in your stomach, and your eyes burn with unshed tears as you shakily nod.

As soon as you do, however, Gaz pulls away, and Soap's finger leaves your pussy entirely. You groan, eyes opening slightly to see what could've possibly caused them to stop.

"You look so upset, baby," Soap laughs, and his smile is no longer the jovial one it had been mere minutes before -- no, it's been replaced with something much more predatory, something much more dangerous.

Dangerous men.

Ghost moves, then, moving your legs with much more care than you'd expected from the large man, before moving to kneel at the end of the couch where your legs had been. Hooking your knees over his shoulder, he effectively folds you in half.

"W-what are you doing?" You ask, almost frantic, utterly confused at your current state.

He leans down, hooking his balaclava over the tip of his nose, before there's searing wet heat at your core, causing you to throw your head back with a loud moan.

Gaz chuckles, "So dirty, love. Like having the big bad Ghost with his head between your legs, huh? Like having the attention of men with blood on their hands?"

Oh, and the confirmation -- the proper, hard proof, that they killed, that they truly were as dangerous as your father had said --

"Yes, fuck, please, oh my god," you ramble, almost incoherent with your words as you body trembles with the feeling of a mouth at your pussy. "Jesus, don't stop."

You can hear laughter around you, some words being passed between the men, but your focus is entirely on the tongue dipping into your folds, licking at your essence like a man starved. Like you're his only salvation.

Soap's hand is in Ghost's hair, a complete parallel to the kiss the two of you had shared, and he's pushing Ghost further against you, manhandling him like a toy for you to grind against, for you to take advantage of.

"I'm gonna, oh, please, I'm close," you cry out, eyes squeezed shut yet again as Ghost's ministrations only double in enthusiasm.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Gonna cum all over his face? Go on, ride it, there we go," Price eggs you on, his hand patting down your hair, massaging at your scalp as you lose yourself to the pleasure of it all.

You cum with a desperate keen, tears finally spilling down your cheeks as you ride out the high, embracing this moment for the beauty it is.

It doesn't hit you, not at first, the full extent of your actions.

Ghost pulls away after your whimpers turn into ones of overstimulation, pressing a soft kiss to your inner thigh, your twitching pussy, and then your inner knee as he carefully sets your legs back down on the couch.

"Such a good girl, aye?" Soap asks, rubbing at your tense calves with expert strokes and pressure. "Did so well for us, darlin'."

Your head feels like it's been filled with cotton, and your mouth is in a similar state as you nod dazedly.

You're not sure when, but at some point, Price gently moves you to lay your back against the cushion of the couch. "Need you to drink something for us, sweetheart, okay?"

Gods, this part? Them treating you like a princess, like you're something worthy of taking care of, it's almost as good as the orgasm they'd given you.

Gaz comes into view with a glass of water, and when he gently moves your chin to open your mouth, you let him pour it down your throat.

It feels almost like you're entirely too weak to do anything by yourself, like your ability to function has been completely removed by these men. It's intoxicating, the kind of feeling that could be as addictive as the most threatening of drugs.

The water slides down your throat, and it's as if it cools you from the inside out, your heartbeat slowly coming down from the quickened pace it was previously at.

Price picks you up, cradling your head to his chest as he sits down, the other three settling down on the couch as well. Gaz, sitting beside Price, moves your legs to sit over his lap, your feet in Soap's. Ghost sits to Soap's left, his eyes focused on you as you get comfortable, burrowing your head closer to Price.

If you could stay in this moment forever, you think that you'll be a very happy woman.

Closing your eyes, you drift into a space between sleep and awareness, and when they flutter open again, you realise that your previously exposed pussy and legs are now hidden by your sweatpants that had been laid on your bed, ready to be put away.

Price's hand is in your hair, softly playing with the strands. His hand encompasses your entire scalp, almost, and if you weren't completely exhausted, that fact alone would have you ready to get on your knees.

"What're we gonna do?" Gaz whispers, and you realise with a start that they must all think you're still dozing. "I mean, we seriously fucked this up."

"Not yet we haven't," Ghost interrupts, voice still gravelly and low, but with a hint of warmth. "This doesn't change anything."

"This changes everything!" Soap hisses back, incredulous, his hands stilling from where they were rubbing into your feet with practiced movements. Were they all trained masseuses, or something?

No. Trained killers, your mind unhelpfully supplies, and a chill runs down your spine.

Oh god. Oh god. What had you done? Seriously, what the actual fuck had you done? You just.

You just lost your virginity to four of your father's very lethal, very dangerous friends. Friends who are nearly twice your age, at that.

Oh. God.

"Laswell will be expecting correspondence by three," Price mutters in a voice akin to a whisper. "You boys know what we have to do."

What? What were they talking about? Who was Laswell? What did they have to do by three?

Your mind whirrs, like a hamster in a wheel, before the sound of keys jingling on the other side of your front door has your entire body freezing.

Oh god.

Oh. God.

"Shit," Gaz grumbles, and between one thought and the next, you've been bundled up into a warm chest, the movement fluid and shockingly quick. A hand at the base of skull softly pushes your head against a warm neck, and your legs hang over a muscled arm. "I'll take her upstairs. Be quiet and quick."

There's murmurs too quiet between the other three as you're taken up the stairs, two steps at a time, by the man whose fingers had been on your pussy, at most, only an hour ago.

You're aware that you've been taken to your room when the door clicks behind you, the familiar path to it engrained in your memory, even with your eyes closed and in someone else's arms.

The smell of vanilla and caramel is a comforting and familiar one, and you realise that you'd left your candle burning all night.

It's really the least of your worries, but that thought manages to snag at your conscious like an annoying fly.

"I'm so sorry, kid," Gaz whispers, gently laying you down underneath your bedsheets, before pulling them up and over your lazed form. "I'll try my best to talk some sense into 'em."

You're not sure what he could possible mean -- what the fuck was even happening, what your life was even becoming, but his words are nothing if not sincere.

His tone is almost... apologetic, in a way, and you reserve that thought for later. When you're not pretending to be awake, when you're still not slightly out of it from your first orgasm caused by someone else, when you're not in the middle of the worst moral conflict of your life.

Your window's slightly open, allowing a soft breeze to brush over your still slightly heated skin as Gaz presses a soft kiss to your forehead, brushing your hair back.

"Get off me!"

Your father. That's your father's voice, and it sounds panicked, angry -- not unusual, but still, the cause of it was nearly always you.

And those specific words, what --

"Y'know, Laswell found out somethin' pretty interestin' the other day," a voice that you recognise as Ghost's says, tone mocking interest.

Gaz moves away from you, before going to the window and looking out at whatever scene is happening down there. Somehow, he hasn't realised you're not asleep -- you'd kept your breathing pattern the same as it usually was when you're asleep, some youtube video you'd watched months ago finally coming in handy.

You can hear them all clear as day through the small opening of the window, and Gaz can too.

"Aye. Somethin' 'bout some info bein' leaked," Soap continues Ghost's train of thought, and you're so lost it's almost pathetic.

But, you continue to listen, desperate for any source of understanding for whatever the fuck was happening down there.

"You can't possibly think it was me!" Your father yells, his voice full of venom and rage. To have it not be directed at you is a rare moment, and you allow yourself a small breath of reprieve.

"We know it was you," Price says, before sighing loud enough for it to be heard from your room. "The way you spoke about that kid of yours was enough to cement the idea."

"She's a fuckin' waste of space, and where do you get off on caring how I treat my kid? Has nothin' to do with the job!"

Those words hurt. Like an actual, physical wound, almost.

Gaz swears under his breath, and you can feel the tension ooze out of him like a wave. It's... oddly comforting.

There's the sound of a fist hitting a jaw, and it takes everything in you not to race to the window and look at what's going on yourself.

"Jesus fucking christ!" Your father hisses, and you put two and two together. One of the three men down there had punched him -- if you had to take a guess, it was Ghost.

"You've never been one of us, and you'll never be one of us. You sellin' us out was the last straw, mate," Soap snarls. You can hear him spit on the ground, before another sound of fists flying makes your heart race.

There's a moment of silence, until two things happen in the span of five seconds.

First, your father screams, "Please! Don't --"

And then...

A bullet.

The sound of a trigger being pulled.

The sound of a bullet ringing through the air.

The sound of a final breath.

Your eyes fly wide, and you immediately stumble out of bed.

Gaz's gaze meets yours, and there's nothing but apology in them. No guilt, just apology.

He doesn't stop you from looking out the window, where your father's body lays in the grass, blood leaking from the wound now sitting between his eyes.

And when you turn to him, he doesn't stop you as you land a punch to his jaw.

a/n. CROSS-POSTED TO AO3 ummm so did i PLAN for this to become an actual fic? no. not in the slightest. but i was writing the fingering bit and was like. what if her dad died? and there's an actual plot? so uhhh here we are! anyways hope yall enjoyedddd if u guys know me u know polyamory is my SHIT so there will very likely be more poly!tf141 x reader to come. ty for reading mwah mwah mwah

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dilf-docs · 2 months ago

Text

Le Pedí Al Mar Y Al Sol Que Te Trajera

pedro pascal x younger!reader

summary: vacations are supposed to be fun! and with a hot older famous boyfriend? now we're really talking.

warnings: 18+ (minors dni), age gap (yum), pwp, p. in v., fingering, pussy spanking (ooc i'm sorry i just want a man to do this to me), creampie, virgin!reader (sorry if this is kinda unrealistic for a first as i too i'm a virgin; in the curb we all fam), aftercare, spanglish ofc!!!

word count: 2,865 words

side note: so, i modified the request a bit bc idk pedro's friends like that (i just know omar apollo can tower over me wait what). check the og request here. reqs still open as we enter 2025! happy new year, dilf town citizens: pushed this drabble last minute as a lil' gift for you before the year ends! :) thank u sm for being part of it, my journey on tumblr is just getting started!!!!!!!!!!

Hace tiempo que quería yo sentir esto que siento.

They say dating a star and having to share him with everybody else is the hardest part, but to you, it's having both of your vacations occur simultaneously.

Finally, after months of shooting so many projects for the next year, your boyfriend is free.

Vacations are fun! They're supposed to be relaxing, especially after leading such a busy life as yours: juggling between work, studies and a relationship with world-renowned actor, Pedro Pascal. Yet, you can't help but feel nervous, fiddling with the loose strands of your skirt.

Pedro wants you to go alone, which means just the both of you: a little escape before Christmas Eve, as he and his friends have already planned their holiday together.

Doesn't matter how many times you tried to excuse yourself, he was determined to make you go with him. Besides, let's get real: it's not like you can say no to him. So now here he is, both of your passports in hand as you both are ready to board your plane to Mexico, where the rest of his friends will meet you a week later. Yes, more nerves to add on the schedule.

"If you don't quit that shaking of yours, I'll extend our vacation two more weeks" Pedro threatens once you're seated, but it's devoid of any malice. He's a bit far from you (he also insisted on the VIP flying part; you're just fine flying tourist, but can understand why he isn't), so you can't count on his touch to comfort you. "Didn't know you were afraid of planes"

You sigh, "I'm not"

"Ay, cariño. Are you afraid of me then?"

"No" you laugh nervously. You are, but not for the reasons he thinks.

It's the very first time the two of you will be fully alone. For obvious reasons, a whole week at the beach is much more intimate than just the dates you've been in. But here you are, already seeing the sand and water beneath you.

"Like what you see?" he jokes.

"Yeah" you look back at him, sincerity washing over the expression on your face. "I do"

If there is one thing you're sure of, is your love for Pedro. You'll just have to wait and see how this goes.

As of now, everything has gone well: sun, water, diving and lots of new photos and videos on your camera roll. You've gone swimming and danced on the bar of the hotel you're staying, some extra drinks on your system. You've also sunbathed under the same sun you've watched go down, in the most beautiful sunsets you've ever seen in your life.

But here comes the hardest part: the night. Sharing a bed isn't hard: it's something that's happened before, one time even staying in his house for two days, all because he insisted.

This time is different: the way his gaze lingers over your bare legs, the same way he's looked at them when the droplets of water slide down them. The way he licks his lips, like he's starving and the most deliciously tempting meal stands before him. Mantaining eye contact like it's some kind of dare, just as he's done since you've landed, using it to disarm you little by little.

You don't think you can't take it anymore.

You lay down on the bed, and he leaves the book he's reading on the night table next to him, all his attention directed towards you. Yeah, you're afraid, he can sense, but apparently not that afraid to wear a dainty nightwear that gives a delicious peek of your breasts.

"Something you want to say?" you ask, almost daringly so.

"Say no" voice low, barely a whisper that could come across a breeze of wind entering through the open window as it stirs the courtains. "Want, yes"

You gulp. "What do you want, then?"

Shouldn't taken the bait.

"You" comes quick, like it's the easiest answer there ever is.

The rest of his answer comes in the form of hungry lips capturing yours, devouring them in a clash of desire against your own, even struggling to breath due to the animalistic borderline savage way Pedro's eating you out, his tongue battling inside your mouth while trying to explore every corner just to taste all of you on his palate.

"Pedro" you moan his name out when he bites your lip with a bit too much force, metallic filling your taste buds. It's all so hot, and you're too turned on to think.

His roaming hands itch to touch every available spot of soft skin your body offers, tracing first through your collarbones, and then leaving the task for his lips to complete. There goes a trail of kisses that go down your neck, teeth nibbling the sensitive skin until it turns red. You whine against his hold, big hands keeping you under him, back pushed against the soft mattress and silk sheets.

You gasp for air, lost in the fire, when suddenly his forgotten hands touch you down there.

"Wait!" you shout, mentally slapping yourself.

"¿Qué pasó?" he exclaims, scared. "Did I hurt you?"

"N-no" you're quick to deny, voice wavering as you seat up on the bed. Your cheeks soon flush, as there's regret when you say. "I'm sorry"

"Sorry for what?" he tenderly cups your cheek. "Just tell me what happened"

"What happened is, I fucked up the vibe. I'm sorry, P. Didn't mean to stop you like that"

"¿No te estaba gustando, cariño?" he's questioning again.

"No" your answer is more firmly this time. His face morphs into a bit of hurt, and then you think your answer a bit more. "Ah, no. I mean, yes! I was liking it. I meant no as in no, it's not that why I stopped you"

"Then, why is it?" he grows a little impatient, but shows no such thing, rather focused on helping you out. "You know you can trust me, right?"

"I know" you smile sadly, insecurities washing over you like cold water.

"Then, tell me" he scoots closer, his perfume getting in your nostrils. Had he wore it again for this? God, what an evil little horny creature.

"I'm scared" you confess finally, the warmth of his receptiveness giving you a sense of security. His brown eyes soften, and you feel tears brim in the corner of your eyes.

"I know" he repeats your words, kissing you softheartedly, nothing compared to as before.

"No" you look directly at him, ready to take in every reaction his face will have. "I don't think you do"

"Amor, por favor-"

"I'm a virgin" you cut him off, panic rushing your answer.

"You are?" almost immediatly, giving no opportunity for silence to settle in.

You nod, slowly.

He sighs, sounding relieved. "And here I thought you didn't love me. Que te daba asco acostarte con un viejo como yo"

"No!" you deny hastily, then laugh. "Of course I love you, P. On the contrary, I was the one scared. Don't want to fuck it up on my first"

The energy changes again, as a flame sparks within your orbs. He looks surprised.

"Just because I said-" he cuts himself off. "Look, y/n, mi vida. I don't want to force you, yeah? I didn't know you hadn't- Listen, if you aren't ready, I'll understand"

"I am ready" clear and convinced, without a doubt.

His eyes circle between lust and love, "You want me to be your first, mmh baby?"

You nod, and he's back at the kissing and nibbling on your neck and collarbones.

"Please say it"

"I want you, Pedro. Quiero que seas mi primera vez"

Those sweet words of yours, an invitation not even the strongest man could deny.

"Let's start slow, yeah?" his fingers travel down to your panties under the nightwear, removing them and tossing them out of the bed, even with your pout. He kisses it off, wasting no time after to see your clit exposed. "Looking so sweet, angel. And needy" he gets closer, taking a better look at the wet mess that coats in between your thighs. He takes a whiff, intoxicated with the smell of your arousal dripping in waiting need. "Tell me if this is okay, yeah? I'll stop if it hurts"

Your breath hitches the moment his middle finger touches your puffy clit. Pedro runs his finger up and down, not adding much pressure to let you get used to it (kissing and eating each other out was all you had ever done). You whimper at the feeling as he repeats his action a few more times.

"Please, keep going" you plead, barely managing to not squirm at the overwhelming new sensations that shoot right through your cunt.

He begins to rub slow circles, making sure to add the right pressure onto your clit, then circling it, all while keeping eye contact, adoring the new expressions and sounds he's getting from you. You realize and shy away, embarrassed all of the sudden at the way he looks at you.

"Don't" he holds you by your chin with his free hand, "I want to know how you look when I please you"

You whimper, letting him do his own thing. He starts leaving sweet little kisses around your quivering pussy, enjoying the sight of your hole clenching at nothing.

"Think you can take more?" he asks, "want more?"

Two of his fingers dive straight in between your folds, coating them with your juices.

"Good girl" he praises when you only yelp, savouring the new feel of his digits inside of you. Then, he drags his fingers back to his mouth, tongue licking them clean. "Taste so sweet too"

"N-need more" you whine, desperate beneath him.

"Yeah?" This your first and you're already this greedy? I think I can get used to it" he laughs in adoration. "Let's try something better, yeah?"

Your body suddenly jolts, his big palm flat against your pussy. Pedro circles his whole palm across your cunt, middle finger pressing tightly onto it. You moan, back arching at the overstimulation.

He feels a little pervy, enjoying the way your tiny young body squirms beneath his caging body for of him. Nonetheless, he continues to rub you while you release more dirty sounds cascading out fo your filthy greedy lips. Your arousal keeps dripping like a broken pipeline, now smeared all over Pedro's palm, filling the room with slippery sounds.

"Mhm" you can't even speak, the exquisite combination of pain and pleasure reducing you to a moaning mess.

Pedro slaps your pussy twice, wet smacks bouncing off the walls.

"That's my girl" he then gently blows on your swollen bud, pressing a light kiss on it after. "Ready for it?"

It meaning his hard tent hidden under his underwear. You gulp, afraid you might not take it. He sees the hesitation in your eyes, but you're quick to dissmiss it.

"Are you sure you are ready?"

"Just do it" you demand, without knowing the consequences of your words, or the effect you have on him. Overall.

With needy fingers, you're fast to strip him out of it, admiring the size as much as you admire his now sculpted body. Jesus, you could build a cult out of it.

"Now" he cups your cheeks, fingers digging onto the skin, "I want you to look at me when I fuck you, yes? Don't dare to look away"

Pedro positions himself between your legs, aligning himself with your entrance. Then, he thrust inside you, filling you completely. You cry, trying to adjust to his size while your nails dig on his broad back, as he claims you, makes you his. Only his. Pedro'hi's hips snap forward with precision: every thrust is deliberate, each movement calculated to make your first as pleasurable as he can, despite the pain that's shown in your tears or the little drops of blood that fall onto the sheets.

"Shit" he pants, "tendremos que pagar por eso"

He grips your thighs, holding you steady as he pounds into you.

"Fuck, you feel so good" he moans, your tight untouched walls now stretching to adapt to his girth, "like you were made for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping around his waist as he firmly holds you. Your vision goes foggy, mind numb at the burning and pleasing sensations. Despite that and lack of experience, you meet his every thrust, your bodies moving as one.

Your core contracts around him with every motion. "You fuck me so good" you mewl, music to his ears.

"I know, baby" he chuckles, "sólo lo mejor para mi princesa"

Fingers dig into your skin as he guides you with precision, right as he wants you to be. You feel the intensity of his deep inside of you with every movement, his hot laboured breath against your ear.

"Doing it so good" his voice is low, almost a growl, sending shivers down your spine. "Just for me"

"Just for you" you mindlessly pant out, the sensation of having all of him inside you, nothing separating the skin from skin, igniting a fire that spreads through your core. Your breasts bounce with each motion, Pedro's eyes never leaving yours, dark orbs locked onto your gaze as you urge him to go faster, drawing in a sharp breath as your body adjusts to the new rhythm he's providing, rapidly obeying.

The room is quiet except for the sound of your bodies clashing onto one another, flesh against flesh echoing softly.

"Your body is perfect, so wet, so tight for me" His words send a wave of pleasure crashing over you, making you moan loudly, your head falling back, "me tienes loco"

Pedro's weight grounds you as he begins to thrust deeply, each movement deliberate and unrelenting.

"Tell me you want this, us" the words catch you off guard. "Will you take all of me?"

"Yes" without a thought or doubt, answering as you whine and clutch at his shoulders with his more urgent thrusts. "All of you, always"

You notice his hips snapping forward, more energy as he pounts into you. "Good girl" praising you again, voice thick in arousal and rough, "so good for me"

Despite being your first, you can feel what would be your orgasm building, closer and closer until there is no holding it back.

"Pedro!" you scream his name, body collapsing around him as you come, stars reaching your closed eyelids.

His movements become more intense and sloppier, breathing ragged as he chases his own release.

"Espérame. Stay there for me"

You cling to him, legs wrapping tighter as he continues to pound into you. "Ya casi" his thrusts become erratic as he nears his climax, "almost there, baby"

You feel his body tensing as he comes inside you with a deep groan, seed spilling into you without wasting a drop.

"That's right" whispers against your sweet neck roughly, voice breaking as he collapses over you, trying to level his breathing. "Eres mía, only mine"

You're whimpering, body exhausted from the whole session you had.

"You okay?"

"Yeah. Just tired" you sigh, "but I don't think I can walk"

"We'll get you a wheelchair someway" he jokes.

"You think is funny? Ruining my holidays?"

He leans down to press a sweet kiss on your forehead. "Come on, we'll get you cleaned up" you mumble out a tired no, but Pedro's picking you up with his strong arms, taking your body to the bathroom. You wrap your legs instinctively around his waist, face hidden in the crook of his neck.

"You know what? Your fans were right: you do have a slutty little waist" you mock.

"Right" he blushes, embarrased as he takes you inside the bathroom, then placing you on top of the toilet. "Open up, baby" he grabs some tissues, trying to clean up the mess you've made between your legs. "Así, justo así, bebé" he parts your hair to the side lovingly, fixing it for you before pressing a kiss on the crown of your head. "Done, my pretty baby, look at you"

You hum, eyes threatening to close.

"I see you're not an after-sex talker. Come on, I'll take you back to bed" he picks you up again, your head leaning against Pedro's V line as he caresses your head. "Hope you don't mind the smell"

"I love how you smell" you mumble out in a drunk like state.

"Okay then" he chuckles, "let's go back to bed" taking you out of the room, gently placing you the mattress. He then pulls a pair of fresh panties from your suitcase, dressing you in them. He coos at the sight of you, sleeping peacefully despite what you did before.

He finally lays next to you, lovingly lifting up your arm to put it around his waist. He pulls the sheets over your bodies to keep you both warm, in the chilly room thanks to the beach's air.

He feels you move, snuggling closer to his chest to seek warmth.

"I love you" whispered, not expecting you to answer or hear it.

When you snuggle closer, he's sure you do.

#dilfistquickwrites #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #pedro x reader #pedro pascal fluff #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #pedropascal #pedro fluff #pedro smut #pwp #pedro pascal pwp #pedro pascal fandom

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lovemomhatepolice · 10 months ago

Text

inCHident - charles leclerc

navigation taglist requests

pairing: charles leclerc x fem!reader

warnings: drunk! reader and Kelly, English is my second language!

type: fluff (funny? i hope so)

word count: 1k

summary: there is nothing funnier than you and your good friend Kelly Piquet, with whom you imitate your partners after alcohol and their famous action of 11 years ago...

more content: formula 1 masterlist, charles leclerc masterlist, max verstappen masterlist

“You know what?” You laughed, uncertainly walking down the stairs hand in hand with your boyfriend Charles.

“I'm listening to you, baby,” the man replied, holding you carefully by the elbow and waist.

Your head was spinning. The amount of alcohol on that day probably overcame you too much, or at least at that moment. Partying with Formula One drivers after races was something you loved. That atmosphere, that closeness of everyone together, the successful partying… well, and your beloved girls who proudly stood by their boyfriends as you did.

“You're a good boy,” you grinned, squeezing his hand. “Really, I've never had a better one in my life.”

Charles giggled under his breath, well aware of your condition. Ay, it wasn't the first time he'd seen you in it, and it probably wouldn't be the last either.

“Well, in that case I'm glad,” he replied, helping you up the last flight of stairs at Max and Kelly's temporary lodging for this trip.

That's where the two of you held your after-party after a good partying at the club. You didn't often do this, as mostly everyone was already tired after the fun at the first place, but today quite a few of you still had a lot of energy in you and you definitely couldn't let it go.

“But really Charles.” you said, stopping in front of the stairs.

You were then standing in a place somewhat isolated from the room where all the rest who had come with you were sitting. They were not all drivers, on the contrary, you ended up with about ten people. The rest simply let go of further fun and either returned by plane to their homes or to their hotel rooms.

That's why hardly anyone could catch the fact that you managed the “bathroom” task, which earlier caused a lot of laughter. Leclerc just didn't want to let you go up the stairs alone, and heck knows - you could still fall down them in those heels.

“Really what?” he laughed, grabbing you by the waist the moment you threw your arms around his neck.

“You really are a good boyfriend. If it wasn't for you, I probably would have peed there, it was a must,” you whispered in his ear as if it were a secret, which brought a smile to his face.

“Mhm” he muttered, stroking your hips through the thin material of your dress.

You moved closer to him and kissed him lightly, grinning into his mouth at the same time. However, you were soon interrupted by a shout from Kelly, who, unbeknownst to you, suddenly jumped out from around the corner.

“[Y.N] I HAVEN'T SEEN YOU IN A LONG TIME!!!”.

You quickly turned around, abandoning your boyfriend's embrace, and threw yourself into the arms of the brunette, who stood behind you with her arms spread out. The hallway was filled with your squeals.

“Kelly, how I love you! You are so beautiful today, what am I saying? You are beautiful every day,” you replied, giggling.

You and the girl moved towards the living room and sat close to each other on the couch. Charles moved behind you, however, sat on the armchair next to you. He was well aware that he didn't even have a lift at that moment, when you continued to be giggling and in each other's embrace.

Everyone in the room was listening to some story by Lando, who was telling it with great passion, but you were in your own world. You whispered something in each other's ear, burst out laughing afterwards, paid each other compliments, and much more. It did not even cross your mind that Max was not in the room. You only found out when he entered the living room in a down jacket and looked at you and Kelly with a surprised look.

“Max, what happened?” asked Oscar, giggling under his breath at the sight of Verstappen.

Max shrugged off his jacket, depositing it on the couch behind you, making the brunette hiss from the touch of cold on her warm skin.

“I thought she went out...” the man began, but was not given the chance to finish, as he was interrupted by his girlfriend.

“NO, HE'S JUST UNFAIR,” she began to say loudly, grabbing your hand, which you quickly picked up on. You loved to laugh at your boyfriends. "I'm leading, he want to pass, he push me, I push him back and after he push me off the track. JUST NOT FAIR"

"Thank you, thank you Max" you replied, pretending to hold the microphone.

A volley of laughter went throughout the living room, and you could feel Lando's phone pulled out on you, which was most likely recording you, but you didn't pay much remark to it. So did Charles, who measured you with his eyes as intensely as Max did.

Kelly rose on the couch, catching in her hand the remote control that lay on the coffee table, and pressed it to her lips, sitting cross-legged. The girl tilted her head toward you and raised her eyebrows slightly, lending authenticity to the “interview.”

“Charles. What's happend with emm Max?" She asked and put the remote control to your lips, encouraging you to use it, like a real microphone.

You looked at Max, who was standing behind his girlfriend with a disbelieving face, and burst out laughing, but quickly stepped into your role again and put on a serious face. Just like fifteen-year-old Charles, giving an interview at the time.

"Nothing, just an inCHident... on the race" You replied, shaking your head in a familiar way.

“I think I just cried,” replied Lando, choking back his own laughter and wiping away the tears that really did trickle from his eyes.

Everyone in the living room laughed, including you and Kelly. Well, okay, maybe not everyone. Max and Charles looked at each other in disbelief, time and again shifting their gaze to you.

“I can't believe it's been twelve years and people continue to remind us of this,” muttered Charles, trying to break through the loud laughter and applause in the room.

All he got in response was a pat on the shoulder from Max, who took the seat next to him, and they both looked at the rest of their friends, wondering where in their lives they had gone wrong that they had chosen such people...

A/N: please do not copy or translate my work! if you have any issues regarding this please contact me in the messages :)

I hope it brought at least a slight smile to your face. AND what more can I say? happy (but belated) inCHIdent anniversary!

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cevansbrat0007 · 2 months ago

Text

Bold Moves

Summary: You decide to slip Ari your panties during an innocent encounter at the public library...

Warnings: Mature Themes, Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Brat!Reader, Brief Discussions of Body Image, Bird Being Brave, Going Commando, Light Roleplaying, Frisking, Manhandling, Spanking, Ass Slapping, P in V Sex, Implied Overstimulation, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Decided to finish this when I came across it in my drafts. Takes place earlier in Ari and Bird's romantic relationship. Part of my Sweet Renegade Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

“I’m so glad you pitched me this idea, Marisol.” You beam as you finish writing in your notebook. “I know it’s still early yet, but I would love to collaborate with you for Halloween.”

“Yes!” The younger woman cheers, throwing her arms up in the air. “I knew I picked the right woman.”

“Just I knew they picked the right woman to run the town library.” You throw her a wink before tucking your pad and pen back into your purse. “Now, I hate to cut this meeting short…” Out of habit you press a hand against your belly, silently wishing you’d opted to throw on a pair of spanx this morning instead of a flimsy pair of panties.

Frankly, you were tired of sucking it in. But every time you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror you looked pretty damn good. Perhaps your confidence was growing after all.

“But I need to get home and change so I can run by the shop before it gets too late.” You finish, feeling grateful when the sweet librarian sees fit to lead you out of her office.

“Sooo…” The dark-haired woman drags out the word, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper as you both come around the corner. “Word on the street is that you’ve been seeing a lot of Detective Levinson lately. Everything good, I hope?”

“What do you mean?” You respond, willing your pulse to remain steady. “Everything’s fine. He just…likes for me to call him whenever something new pops up about Martin. That’s all.”

And whenever you lock up in the evening. And when you make it home. And then again to decide if he’s coming to your place for the night. Or, if you’re already on the back roads heading to his.

It was all so fun and exciting. But at the same time, it was just sex. Amazing sex, mind you. But just sex all the same.

Instead of responding immediately, Marisol simply chooses to link her arm through yours. “Mm. While I haven’t lived here long, I’ve already learned how much this town loves gossip.” She muses. “Which is why I try to fly under the radar at all times.”

“Uh huh.” You give her a gentle nudge. “Even when it comes to a certain Officer Milton?”

“Shh! We do no not speak that man’s name in this house!”

“Why not?”

“Because I feel like he always goes out of his way to just…be around. He’s like a puppy. I do not have time for puppies, chica. I’m too busy building a career amongst the books.”

“Well sugar, I suppose you might wanna tell him that.”

“Ay, but that would involve making conversation. Something I also do not have time for because–”

“Because he’s standing over there by the door, talking to our favorite resident detective.” You interrupt with a giggle, prompting the other woman to drop your arm in a flourish before racing off back in the direction of her office before squeaking out “you never saw me” - leaving you alone.

You allow yourself to stand there for another moment, content with watching the two men talk. While both were easy on the eyes, you were only interested in one of them. Glancing down at your outfit, you once again reassure yourself that you’re looking pretty damned good.

And then – just that fast – an idea strikes you.

Refusing to overthink what it was you were about to do, you discreetly make your way into the ladies room. After checking to make sure you were alone, you slip into a stall. Reaching underneath your skirt, you slide your lacy black panties down your thighs before stepping out of them.

Biting your lip, you tuck the small scrap of fabric into your pocket. Once you’re finished, you go to leave. But not before stopping long enough to refresh your lip gloss and fluff your curls. And then you’re out the door.

Hopefully you’d be able to catch the handsome bounty hunter before he left.

Thankfully, it doesn’t take you long to find him. He’s right where you saw him last – near the front of the library still talking to Milton. As you near the two, you can’t help but wonder if you’ll be able to pull this off without making an absolute fool of yourself.

But first you’d have to find a way to get rid of Officer Milton without making your intentions obvious. And then it hits you. While it might be wrong, it was officially time to pawn him off on your favorite new friend.

Marisol.

“Good afternoon, Officer Milton.” You chirp as you sidle forward, politely interrupting their conversation. “Detective Levinson.” Of course you’re immediately met with smiles from both men.

“Well get a load a’ you.” Milton gives a playful whistle once he gets a good look at your business attire. “Lookin’ sharp, darlin. Goin’ somewhere special?”

“Actually, I just came from a meeting down at the bank.” You tell them, smoothing your hands along your gray pencil skirt.

“Ahh.” The officer nods. “Fingers crossed all went well.”

“It did. Thank you.” Delicately clearing your throat, you make a show of glancing around before directing your complete attention to the young officer in front of you. “While I hate to interrupt you two when you’re hard at work, I think Marisol might need you.”

“She does?” The man immediately perks up, vaguely reminding you of your neighbor’s golden retriever.

“Yep.” You wince inwardly, hating yourself for lying. “Not sure what it’s about, but I think she’s somewhere in the back.”

Just like that, a switch has been flipped and Officer Milton is off on the hunt for a sweet little librarian who most certainly did not need him. Fingers crossed she would catch the hint and just go with it.

And now you’re alone with the one man with the power to leave you breathless. You were constantly left tied up in knots around this man. But today it was finally time you turned the tables on this guy.

“How’s the manhunt going, Detective? Any new leads?”

“I’m afraid I can’t discuss this part of my investigation with you, Miss.” He says, flashing you a rather charming smile. “But if you hear from our guy Martin anytime soon, be sure to give me a call.”

“Of course.” You nod, feeling your cheeks heat. “Well, I’d best be goin’ now.”

“Be safe gettin’ home.”

“Same to you. Detective.”

And then, without sparing him so much as a warning glance, you discreetly remove your panties from their hiding spot and slip them into the back pocket of his jeans. To his credit, Ari doesn’t move a muscle. Instead he continues to stare straight ahead, his gaze never wavering.

Head held high, you manage to make it all the way to your car before collapsing in a fit of nervous laughter. While you wished you could’ve seen his face, you know deep down that you were better off running off the way you had.

Maybe he’d call you tonight and maybe he wouldn’t. But all that mattered is that you’d mustered up enough confidence to make some bold moves this afternoon, which by all accounts made you a bad bitch.

Later That Same Evening…

It’s been hours since you pulled that stunt with Ari, but as luck would have it, you still had yet to hear from him. Not that you were worried or anything. In fact, if you had to choose an emotion, you were more disappointed than anything else.

While you’d long since abandoned your high heels by your front door, you were still wearing the outfit you’d worn to the bank. You’d simply been too excited to go by the shop so you’d decided to remain closed for the day.

Heaving a sigh as you rise from the couch, you’re in the middle of debating whether or not it’s worth trying to cobble together something for dinner when you hear the sound of your doorbell. Confused, you go to reach for your phone, only to frown when you see there’s nothing from the one man you wanted to hear from most.

The bell chimes again, prompting you to get a move on. “I’m comin’, I’m comin’!” You mumble, stretching your arms above your head. Opening the door, you’re treated to the sight of a large man standing on your porch with his hands in his pocket, his official badge prominently displayed on his hip.

Hello, Detective Ari Levinson.

“Evening, Miss. Apologies for bothering you so late.”

“Why hello, Detective. Somethin’ I can help you with?” You do your best to keep your tone light while you wait for him to explain himself.

“Sure hope so. Got a report about someone engaging in some inappropriate behavior.” He informs you, barely concealing his smirk as he leans his big body against the porch railing.

“Is that right?”

“Fraid so.” He nods solemnly. “In fact, I actually found a trail of evidence that led me right here to your front door.”

“I…well, there has to be some mistake.” You protest, your hand flying to your chest.

“Huh.” Ari sucks on his teeth as he reaches into his pocket to retrieve a small scrap of lacy black fabric. “Then you wouldn’t happen to know who these belong to, would you?”

Your eyes go wide at the sight of your panties dangling from one thick index finger.

“I’m not sure what you’re implying, but they’re certainly not mine.” You sniff haughtily. “I’ve never seen those before in my life.”

“Now, Miss.” He gently chastises, taking another step towards you, invading your space. “Perhaps I should warn you that it’s a crime to lie to a member of law enforcement.” Instead of responding you simply fold your arms across your heaving bosom.

The nerve of this man, thinking he had the right to question you like this right out in the open. Honestly, what would your neighbors think? The scandal!

“You know what? I’m thinkin’ I’m gonna need to search the premises.” The bounty hunter moves to enter your home, only to growl when your hand stops him short. “It’s also a felony to impede an official investigation.” Ari grunts, his brow furrowing in annoyance.

“And I'm thinkin’ I'm gonna need to see a warrant first, Detective.”

Your breath catches in your throat as you watch his eyes darken - his nostrils flaring ever so slightly.

“I’m sure a good girl like you ain’t got nothin’ to hide.” Ari rasps, leaning in so that his mouth now hovers a mere inch above your ear. “Unless…”

“Unless what?” You respond, sounding a little more breathless than you’d like.

“Unless there’s something in there you don’t want me to find?”

“I don’t have anything to hide.” Blowing out a breath you decide to give the man what he wants, if only to see what comes next

“Not sure I believe you, sweetheart.”

“Fine.” You concede. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to let you come in for a quick look. But you’ve gotta be fast.” You tell him, poking him in the shoulder before turning to lead him into your home. “Because I’m expecting company any minute and we don’t need an audience.”

“We’ll see.”

Your pulse kicks up when you hear Ari shut the door behind you, followed by the quiet snick of the lock. Guess that meant he thought he was staying awhile. Just as you open your mouth to protest, you’re caught off guard when he brushes by you, allowing you to catch a hint of his cologne.

“I’m not sure what you’re on, Detective.” You say, shooting him your fiercest glare. Meanwhile, this man responds with his most lethal grin. “But I’m giving you five minutes to figure it out before I–”

“You know, Miss, I didn’t wanna ask you this outside. Especially given the already delicate nature of this investigation. But do you happen to be wearing any panties?”

“Excuse me?!” His question has your mouth falling open, your cheeks burning hot with outrage.

“Answer the question.” His eyes track your every movement as you slowly back away in the direction of the stairs. “Because every good girl I know puts on a pair of panties before leaving the house for the day.”

“Goodnight, Detective Levinson.” You hiss before turning and taking the stairs two by two. “Please see yourself out before I’m forced to call your supervisor.”

Your words are met with silence. And it’s not until you reach the edge of your bedroom that you hear him moving – up the same stairs you’d just scaled only seconds before. You can hardly suppress a shiver as the heady thrum of anticipation courses through you.

“I hate to break it to you, sweetheart.” Ari growls softly as his impressive form fills your doorway, effectively blocking your only exit. “But I’m not through with my investigation.” It’s a struggle to ignore just how good he looks taking up space in your bedroom like this.

“I want you to leave.”

“Oh, I will. As soon as I’m finished.” He takes a step towards you, rolling up his sleeves as he does. “But first, I’m gonna need you to turn and place your hands on the wall.”

“I–I will do no such thing!” Comes your almost breathless reply. “I’m not a criminal.”

“Hm.” Ari cocks his head, his magnetic blue eyes leering at your much smaller, curvier frame. “But you are a suspect.” In less than a fraction of a second, this man is now standing in front of you. “And it would be rather reckless of me if I didn’t pat you down.” One large hand curls itself around your bicep before gently leading to a nearby wall. “You should know that I’m a bit of a stickler when it comes to following protocol.”

Blood roaring in your ears, you place both of your hands on the cool surface. Taking a deep breath, you can’t help but jump when he kicks your feet apart, forcing you to spread your legs even wider, granting him better access.

“I’m gonna report you.” Unfortunately for you, your flimsy threat does nothing to deter him.

Your eyes fall shut when you feel two large, warm hands glide their way up and down your arms. It feels as tempting as it does comforting. He repeats the action twice more, almost as if he’s trying to lull you into a false sense of security.

Next, those wandering hands are stroking along your sides, greedily following the path of your curves. And then you feel him bury his nose in the crook of your neck. It’s impossible to miss his soft groan as he inhales your sweet scent.

“Now I’ve gotta ask you, little Bird.” He hums, his sharp teeth nipping at your ear. “Do you have anything on you that could stab, stick, or poke me?”

“N-no.”

God, you were so fucking wet right now it’s embarrassing. And you can’t stop the moan that catches in your throat when his sensual ministrations move to your breasts – cupping, massaging, and kneading. He lewdly palms them through your blouse, this thumps paying extra attention to your hardened nipples. Your back arches of its own accord as he continues to play with your body.

And there’s a part of you that hates yourself for the way he makes you respond.

“Hm. So far so good, baby. Proud of you for keeping your hands where I can see ‘em.” Now his hands are skimming down your hips to toy with the hem of your skirt. His warm breath dances along your sensitive skin, making you shiver. “But now it’s time for the big question.” Ari begins inching your skirt higher and higher. “And don’t you dare lie to me. Are you–”

“This ain’t right, Detective!” You protest, protectively clenching your thighs together. However, your words only make him chuckle. “Pretty sure this is an illegal search and seizure.”

“As a member of law enforcement, I would have to respectfully disagree with you.” He says at the same time as he grinds himself against you, his massive erection pressing into your lower back. “It’s my job to keep the community safe. And to deal with naughty girls who go around handing out their unmentionables to strangers.” Your skirt inches even higher now, stopping just short of revealing your dripping cunt.

“And what do you know?” He purrs, holding you still as his hand dips between your thighs, cupping your most intimate flesh. “Looks like we’ve got a little liar on our hands. Don’t we?”

“Don’t. We.” The renewed authority in his tone makes your pussy quiver.

“Yes, Sir.”

“And how should we handle liars, sweetheart? Hm?” Your knees go weak when you feel two thick fingers spear their way through your messy folds, lightly strumming over your clit. “What should we do with you?”

“....I…don’t know….”

His deep chuckle has you squirming in his hold, your hips bucking as he continues to grind the heel of his palm against your sensitive nub.

“Tell you what. You and I are about to have a serious conversation about what happens to pretty young ladies who can’t seem to tell the truth. Even when it’s in their best interest. What do ya say?”

“Y–yes, Sir.” You moan as your eyes threaten to roll back in your head, sparks of pleasure dancing behind your eyes. “Whatever you want – I’ll be so, sooo good!”

Thirty Minutes Later…

“Why the fuck you keep runnin’, baby?” Ari growls, smacking your bottom hard. “Yeah, get that juicy ass back here. Love watchin’ those cheeks bounce.”

The rhythmic sound of flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, spilling out into the hall as Ari drives into you over and over again with his impressive cock.

He’d been hard for hours before he ever showed up on your doorstep. Frankly, he’d lost count of how many times he’d paused throughout the day to bring your panties to his nose. It was like he couldn’t seem to get enough of how good you smelled. But he also knew that wouldn’t be enough.

He needed to taste you. Needed your unique, earthy flavor on his tongue.

Thankfully, he had no doubt that he’d have time to eat the fuck out of your sweet pussy later. After he was finished fucking you into oblivion for being such bad girl. Who would’ve guessed his little Bird had it in her to be so deliciously naughty?

Meanwhile, you’re too busy sobbing into a pillow to be proud of yourself right now, your hands fisting the sheets while your man exacts his revenge on your body. At this rate, you’d already cum twice. And here you were already roaring along to orgasm number three.

Fuck, this man was a goddamned menace!

Your desperate cries grow louder as Ari picks up his pace, forcing you to clench around him as you finally resort to begging.

“Please, Ari!” You wail when he lifts your hips higher before adjusting the angle of his strokes. “I–ooh God–M’so close!”

“Oh yeah?” He snarls, the sound rumbling from somewhere deep in his chest. “Then let me see you work for it.” A sharp hiss escapes when his heavy palm comes down on your ass again, this time smacking both cheeks without so much as missing a beat. “This is how bad girls get punished.” You tense when he delivers yet another blow. “They’ve gotta work for their pleasure.”

“I’m sorry–wooh God!” Your voice comes out raw, bordering on hoarse.

“That’s it, baby. Yeah, there we go.” He gifts you with another slap, earning a sharp yelp from you. “Yeah, throw it back like you love it.”

After an afternoon of being bad, there’s nothing you want more than to be good for this man. You wanted to please him. Make him happy. If only so he never stopped touching you. And you were trying – honest to God, you were.

But it was all too good. Too much.

“Just know, everytime you run, I’m gonna drag that sweet ass right back.” Ari renews his punishing grip on your hips, holding you up even as your sweat slicked body starts to give out. “Now cum for me one more time so I can finally stop takin’ it easy on you, pretty Bird.”

END

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chrissv4mp · 2 months ago

Text

𐙚 WHY CAN'T I FIND NO ONE LIKE YOU?

IN MY HEAD, WE BELONG , STREETS. DOJA CAT

WARNINGS. SMUT, cheating, fuckgirl!billie, innocent!reader, cunnilingus, bathroom sex, boyfriend!oc, fingering, hickeys, praise, language, slight manipulative!billie, and drinking.

SUMMARY. you broke up with billie a few months back, yet you can't seem to get her out of your head. it doesn't help your situation when she shows up at a party you and your boyfriend were hosting.

WORDS. 4.5k

LETTERS. AAAAA MERRY CHRISTMAS(IF YOU CELEBRATE)!!! HERE'S FUCKGIRL!BILLIE AS A LITTLE PRESENTTT

"it's just one drink, babe," your boyfriend urges with a playful nudge to your shoulder, his own alcoholic beverage in his right hand.

his left hand is occupied around your waist, fingertips running along the smooth skin that you crop-top revealed, "live a little! don't be a scaredy cat." vincent yells over the music, a grin coming across his face.

you shake your head with a smile, his words flipping a switch in the competitive side of your mind, "i'm not a 'scaredy cat,'" you scoff, and without a second thought, you reach for the large bottle of vodka pushed far back on the counter.

"think i won't?" you challenge him, your nerves coming back to bite as you watch him shake his head.

"pass me one of those cups," you say, quickly grabbing it from your boyfriends hand as he gives it to you. your eyes dart along the counter, catching sight of a half-full cup of (what seems to be) sprite. keeping that in mind, you fill the empty cup with the vodka in your hand before setting it back down.

with a deep breath, and one final look at vincent, you shout, "vince, watch ou—!"

his entire body turns in an attempt to shield both you and himself, and when he does, you swiftly switch the places of the two cups, gripping the cup of sprite in your hand and bringing it to your lips. you flick his shoulder, catching his attention once again, "yeah, let's go, y/n!" he calls, hyping you up with words of encouragement.

you finish the cup with one last gulp before setting it down onto the marble counter again, fighting the urge not to throw up due to the carbonation. you get hit with an attack of coughs, and vincent is quick to laugh it off while rubbing at your back.

"holy shit. i didn't think your ass would actually do it." he chuckles, tone full of amusement and almost no concern.

"whatever," you roll your eyes, straightening yourself and watching as your boyfriend pours himself another cup. his, what, third one? but, of course, in his defense, 'it wasn't vodka, so what harm could it do?' a lot, to his surprise. you, however, wouldn't even bat an eye if you found him passed out on the edge of the pool or in the bathroom over the toilet.

with no words and a kiss to your cheek, he snuck off into the sea of drunk teenagers and sweaty bodies, leaving you alone with the many horny couples that all decided to make out in the kitchen of all places. so, instead of staying, you fill up your empty cup with water and begin to carefully manuever yourself around the crowd, apologizing left and right each time you even grazed someone with your arms or body.

you only make it to the hallway of your boyfriends bedroom whenever you notice that all of the rooms are occupied because of either a. the moans, or b. the doors are locked.

you let a sigh out, leaning back against the wall and closing your eyes to maybe escape reality for even just a second if that was possible. and you were successful until one of vincents friends showed up to bother you.

"'ay, you're vinny's girl, right?" he asks, voice deep yet somehow heard over the obnoxiously loud music.

you nod hesitantly, unsure of why that would be the first question he asked because vincent's friends had to have known your name by now, "right, right, well—okay, are you down to light one up with me and the guys?" he inquires, his lips curving into a dopey smile to showcase his perfectly white teeth.

you never understood why boys like this threw away their futures on stupid things like drugs and alcohol.

"i don't smoke," you answer, shrugging with a soft, apologetic smile(although you weren't sorry at all).

"hey, can you tell vince i'm gonna be heading out soon and that i'll be somewhere around the front, please?" but, even with your clear dismissal, he doesn't budge, rolling his eyes with an amused scoff.

"come on, girl, you can either come and tell 'em or you'll leave without a goodbye kiss."

he pushes his lips out in a kissing motion, imitating a kiss as he moans suggestively. the action makes you cringe, your fingers gripping tighter around the red solo cup in your hand, "lets go, yeah, baby?" the nickname only pushes you further, your comfort getting more and more destroyed by the second, "no, i think i'll stay here..."

his facial expression switches to one of pure anger and annoyance at your resistance, groaning before finally reaching out to tug on your wrist, "vinny never told me you were so god damn stubborn," he grumbles, his strength overpowering your own attempt to stay put.

"hey, i said no!" you yell, but your call is a mere whisper in the crowd of loud shouts and booming music.

the tall guy drags you to the back patio before you make an effort to defend yourself, splashing the leftover water you had in your cup in his face the moment he turns back to see if you were still there. his grip loosens for a moment from the shock, but when you try to wiggle free, he's quick to tug you forward and make you stumble back, "i—you fucking bitch!" he roars.

his loud yell catches all eyes in the backyard, and some partygoers standing by the backdoor even stop and stare. there's still the slightest look of bewilderment on his face, but it's soon masked with anger as he feels the droplets of water slide down his face and neck. he swipes his eyes with his hands, clearing his vision so that he can see you again.

"who the fuck do you think you are, huh?" he asks, voice deeper than before to show his anger.

he steps closer to you, his tall figure towering over your own as he practically barks curses into your face. what you don't expect, however, are his next words, "you're lucky you're a woman 'cause i would'a beat your fuckin' a—!"

"so what? just because she's a woman doesn't mean she couldn't rock your shit."

as fast as the attention was on you and the boy, it's passed to some random girl twice as fast. some 'random' girl you know all too well, "this doesn't concern you, billie," the furious boy scoffs with a shake of his head, trying to shrug her off. but billie won't shake, of course she won't.

"nah, i think it does." she pushes, stepping closer.

she didn't look nearly as intimidating as he did due to her height, but you knew exactly how much of an effect billie's gaze had on people, "don't think i didn't see that shit, that stunt you pulled? i see everything, so don't fuck around." billie warns, tone strong and never shaking, "leave the girl alone, dude. she doesn't wanna buy whatever fuckass thing you're selling."

"can you shut the—?" he begins to speak, but billie is quick to butt in again, "hey, wait... didn't you get called out on your shit last year for selling fakes?" she makes an uneasy face, whistling quietly before catching the look on his face. billie just laughs in the poor boys face because now, he just looked pathetic.

he grabs billie by the collar of her shirt, her chains getting caught between his fingers and bringing their bodies closer. you just stand there and watch, confused and still angry as the boy whispers something into billie's ear that is either a bunch of curses or an apology. with one final glance back at you, he stomps off further into the backyard, shaking his head.

now that all the attention is gone and the chatter starts up again, billie finally gets the chance to properly greet you with her signature smile, the silver gems on her teeth on full display for you and any other person who dared to pay close enough attention. when she takes a step closer, you grip your cup again.

"woah, okay, don't splash me now." billie chuckles, putting her hands up in surrender as she takes a few more cautious steps closer.

despite your nerves, you still join in on the playfulness, "you're lucky there's none left in here." billie smiles wider at your words, taking it as a sign that she can come closer. you don't even realize that she's pulling you into a hug until her perfume reaches your nose. the perfume you were just about to forget about until billie came in like a knight in shining armor.

unlike you, billie had yet to even forget your body language—a language she was far too familiar with. she breathed in, getting the faintest smell of your shampoo and the sweet, floral perfume you always wore. it only changed when billie came out with her own perfume and you wouldn't wear anything but it. then, multiple accidents happened, and...

here you were. two exes reconnecting at a party you really thought you wouldn't see her at.

"you're not supposed to be here," you mutter, hesitantly pulling away from her embrace. your eyes seem more sad than angry now, and you're sure that billie's the only one who would ever notice. not even vincent knew when you were angry. he was just so careless at times, but he treated you well, "why are you here?"

billie's smile becomes smaller, but it never goes away, "not even a 'thank you' for saving you from that douchebag?" she laughs, cocking an eyebrow and letting her hands rest at her hips. her eyes pick up on the way your lips twitch up, but you never give her the satisfaction of your smile—the smile that she longed to see after all these years.

"i know." she sighs, eyes never leaving yours. you hated how good she was at maintaining eye contact, "just wanted to reconnect with you, ma."

your gaze flickers down to the chains that hung around her neck, noticing the way she toys with them to calm her nerves. you completely drown out her words along with the inaudible chatter around you as you notice the old fairy tattoo on her hand, complimented by the silver rings on her fingers, "you listenin'?" her hand drops back to her hip, and her voice catches you attention again.

a nod of your head is all she needs to know that you, in fact, were not listening. she repeats herself nonetheless, staying silent about the fact, "i saw that you got with vincent a while back," she mutters, biting her lip as if she can't stand even thinking about it, "hope you know what you're in for, y/n." she shrugs the sentence off purposely, trailing off onto some other topic that was completely irrelevant.

"billie, what?—what do you mean?" you ask, voice quiet and a little weary. you had no idea what she was on about.

she pauses, trying to fight the smirk that threatens to take over her face once again. the worried look across your features is all she needs to know that you've walked right into her trap. she had a love-hate relationship with the gullible side of you, "just that... vincent is kind of known for bein', uh—untrustworthy?" she whispers, eyes locked on yours.

your heart rate picks up, the cup in your hand almost completely crushed, "what?" you mutter, voice barely audible.

"he cheats." she states boldly. she almost feels bad for doing this to you, but... she needed her girl back, "no wonder he's not with you right now," billie accuses, "probably off with some chick in—" you're quick to cut her off with a shake of your head and quickly spat words, "billie, stop!" you whine.

and she does, but it doesn't last long, "i know the truth hurts, y/n." her voice is filled with fake sympathy, but you don't know that. you're too focused on the implications that she made just seconds earlier, "i'm sorry." she frowns, tilting her head and opening her arms for you to fall into. but you don't. you stand your ground, tears threatening to build because her words actually sounded believable.

"i'm here, y'know." she speaks, voice soft as she beckons you into her arms. when you glance into her beautiful blue eyes, you break immediately, dropping the cup from your hands and falling into her arms. her warmth envelopes you, and suddenly, it feels like you're right back to square one with the girl—like you're falling right back in love all over again, "it's okay,"

her words are sweet, but her face is the exact opposite. if you saw the twisted smile on her face, you would've known that this was all a trap, but your thoughts were all over the place, and you really needed her right now.

she nuzzles her face into your hair, breathing you in, "you can do better than him, any way." she knows exactly what she's doing, but she won't admit it, "and, y'know... i'm available." billie shrugs, tone still soft, "if you need a friend, of course."

you pull away, but not fully, keeping your arms around her waist so that she wouldn't leave. your faces are inches away, and you can feel the way her breath fans over your lips, plump and pink just how you remembered. her eyes flick down to your own pretty lips, finding it quite hard to keep herself under control at the close proximity you had her at.

this was wrong. you didn't even know if vincent was cheating, and you were still in the arms of your ex-girlfriend. but, then, why did it feel like it was meant to be? like you shouldn't have broken up with her all those years ago?

then again, she was also guilty of cheating on you with not one, not two, not three, and not even four—but five girls. all of which she'd been sneaking between every other day. but that hadn't crossed your mind even once tonight because... she could've changed. no—she did change.

you hoped.

you hoped she changed because you just kissed her. you really hoped she changed because now you were exchanging saliva in the middle of the backyard. you really, really hoped she changed because now she was guiding you through the rowdy crowd of teens and dragging you upstairs.

you really, really, really fucking hoped she changed because she was pushing you in the bathroom of your boyfriends house and locking the door behind her. you couldn't believe you got this far with her. with billie. your ex-girlfriend.

she's quick with her mouth and hands, multitasking as her ringed fingers slip under your skirt and massage your thighs, all while her tongue leaves a trail of fire from your lips to your neck. her plump lips suction onto your neck, and you squirm. just as sensitive as she remembered. your own hands are busy tugging at her beanie that you're growing to hate due to it restricting you access to her soft hair.

you yank it off her head out of frustration, throwing it aside on the bathroom counter that was filled with your makeup products and some of your boyfriends hair gel and whatever the hell else he used. billie's quick to rid the counter of all of it in less than a minute, though, grabbing your waist and hoisting you up onto the cool marble.

the way she looks up at you through her lashes, blue eyes so soft yet so dangerous. this was dangerous. it was so dangerous that you were falling right back into her, lips pressing hungrily against her own. her tongue easily slipped between your lips, groaning eagerly as your muscles clashed, fighting for dominance. billie won easily, her triumphant laugh muffled against your mouth.

"billie," you whisper, words slurred due to the exchange of saliva with your ex, "bill—" she just huffs with a shake of her head, head lowering back down to the crook of your neck, continuing her slow torture on your skin. her teeth sunk into your skin, smile growing wider at the way you whined. so needy for her.

her tongue soothed the bite before moving on to the next spot, creating an array of hickeys along your neck that definitely wouldn't be able to be covered with any amount of makeup.

your hands were still in her hair, tugging painfully hard. billie didn't care. she just wanted to make you feel good again—make you hers again. her eyes flickered all across your neck as she pulled away, smiling proudly at her work before her eyes moved back to you. her own hands snaked further up your thighs, ringed fingers hooking into the waistband of your panties, all while keeping eye contact.

maybe you didn't hate it as much as you thought.

"really?" billie gasps, an amused look plastered on her stupid, sexy face. hanging from her index and middle fingers were the lacy black panties she bought you the day before yoi broke her heart, "still wearin' them even while you're with that little boyfriend of yours, huh?" she muses, stuffing them in her back pocket for everyone to see once you and her left the confined space.

your face flushes pink, biting your lip and tugging her closer by her hair, "just touch me already..." you whine, not being able to look her in the eyes anymore. not that you were doing very well at that in the first place, "please." you add. you knew how much she hated whenever you had no manners, "bills, please."

she chuckles at your needy tone, hands coming back down to part your thighs, granting her access to your dripping core. you held your skirt up upon hearing her mumbled request, your other hand still tangled tightly in her dark brown strands. her fingers ran through your wet folds, biting her lip at how soaked you were.

she cursed under her breath, inhaling deeply to ground herself before she quickly discarded her rings and let them drop onto the counter with quiet thuds. her fingers were back on your cunt in seconds, parting your lips and teasing you just because she wanted to. your little gasps and whimpers were anything but quiet, and they were music to her ears.

her index and middle fingers slowly pushed into your hole, exhaling shakily at the wet sound that echoed in the rather large bathroom. your walls were so tight around her digits, but they fit so perfectly inside. almost like you were meant to be together.

in her head, you two belonged together.

"wasn't ever able to find someone as perfect as you," she mutters, eyes glued to the way your pussy swallowed her fingers so willingly, so easily without any resistance.

she shakes her head at all the memories, some of which were so scattered she couldn't even remember the girls' names. but that's not what she was focused on right now. she was only focused on you. only you could satiate her needs, her hunger, "found it hard to find someone like you," she whispers, leaning closer to kiss your cheek.

"'cause nobody could ever compare." billie breathes, listening carefully to your strained moans and soft whines of her name, "nobody." she makes her point clear with a curl of her fingers, the pads of them rubbing against the special spot inside of you that she had no trouble finding.

your own fingers curl around the fabric of your skirt and the dark strands of her hair. the way she was speaking made you feel like you were the only girl in the world, and the way she was touching you... it made you crazy, absolutely feral for more and more of her.

babbles of her name fall from between your lips repeatedly, the plump skin swollen from how hard you were biting down. she was gonna kill you if she kept this up.

a knock on the door did nothing to stop billie's movements or her mouth from working you up. nothing would ever hold her back from making you feel good. not even if it meant somebody finding out what you two were doing because, frankly, she didn't care.

all she cared about right now was getting you off and getting you back.

"doin' so good for me. such a perfect, obedient girl." billie praises, her hand coming up to cup your cheek, making you look into her deep blue eyes. the smile paired with it only further pushed you toward that edge, "y'missed me?" she teases, biting her lip as she pumps her fingers in and out of your pussy at a quicker pace.

you nod mindlessly, head blank of all things except for billie. when her lips met yours again, you melted into her touch, crying quietly against her mouth from the pleasure. you loved it when she was like this—so soft and so nice to you, so caring of your needs even though you two were broken up.

"tongue—'m'want your tongue," you murmur between moans, panting harshly from how close you were getting. you held it back, although it seemed impossible, because you wanted—you needed to cum on her tongue.

fuck your boyfriend, he wasn't even a thought in your mind anymore, and billie was quick to notice as soon as you began—or attempted—to push her head down.

billie raised an eyebrow in amusement, her lower lip tucked between her teeth as she gave you a bashful smile. she didn't know why she was getting all nervous so suddenly, but it definitely had some connection to the way you pleaded with your eyes—the eyes that she was always getting lost in.

so, without having to hear another word, she dropped to her knees on the hard tiled floors of the bathroom. her jeans did nothing to break her fall, but she wasn't worried about the bruises that would form on her knees the next morning or the scuffs that the tiles would leave on her pants. she was only worried about not having enough time with you, worried that you might come to your senses and leave her again.

not that she wouldn't be able to get you back, but the thought was still scary.

her fingers caressed your walls so gently, moving at a pace that wasn't too slow or too fast, a pace that was perfect for the both of you. when her lips wrapped around you clit, though, it felt too little and also too much all at the same time. billie was making you lose it completely.

you let your skirt fall atop of her head, too fucked-out of your mind to hold it anymore. now both of your hands were pulling her closer by her hair, nails scratching her scalp both soothingly and painfully, but she loved it. gosh, she couldn't think of anything that felt better.

"fuck 'em." billie murmured, the words not getting to your ears but the vibrations going straight to your throbbing cunt. she shook her head back and forth lightly, her tongue moving along with it, flicking over your clit perfectly. your thighs were shaking, threatening to close because you were almost off that edge.

the wet, squelching sounds of her fingers slamming into your pussy echoed in the large bathroom, filling both yours and billies ears. it only added to the sounds of your moans, and it was driving billie insane—she wasn't sure she'd be able to stop herself even after you came, "bab—billie, billie, billie!"

"'m'cumming—gonna cum all over your face, bills!" you warn, voice shaky and high-pitched.

she barely heard what you said, but by your tone, she was told all she needed to hear. the speed of her fingers picked up, and she sucked on your clit even harsher than before, eyes fluttering shut and just listening to you.

she would listen to your moans every day if she could.

her hands squeezed your thighs comfortingly, urging you to cum. she needed it, maybe even more than you. when your breaths came out in short gasps and your body shook furiously momentarily, she smiled proudly.

as you came down from your high, she continued to lap at your pussy, fingers slowing to help ride it out for a few seconds. a whine sounded from her throat whenever your hands began to push her away, but she pulled back with a disappointed groan. your eyes widened in adoration when you finally got a look at her face.

your slick was dripping down her chin, her lips swollen eyes pouty from having to stop so soon. nonetheless, she gave you a dopey smile, her blue eyes so pretty and blue you were scared that you'd drown in them. not that you'd mind, anyway.

her fingers slid out you slowly, her eyes trained on yours to see every little reaction you made. billie's smile only grew when she showed off her fingers, slick with your sticky cum. when she spread her fingers, it made a web between them. a quiet curse fell from her pretty lips as she brought them closer to her lips, her free hand squeezing your thigh again.

now it was your turn to be utterly mesmerized. billie's lips parted as she pushed her own fingers inside her mouth, sucking on them in such a lewd manner. you pulled at your skirt, wrinkled from how hard you were gripping it earlier—something your boyfriend was definitely gonna comment on later—but it didn't matter. you couldn't continue to lead him on after getting fucked and falling back in love with your ex.

billie's plan worked, and you knew nothing about it.

"just as sweet as i remember." she states, drying her hands on one of the many towels your boyfriend had hanging behind the door. you almost felt bad, but when billie turned back to you with the sweetest smile on her face, you forgot all about it.

before doing anything else, she grabbed her beanie from the floor, putting it on her head and not even bothering to fix it before turning to you again.

she took your hand in hers, helping you hop off the counter and onto your feet again. when you stumbled, billie caught you instantly, hands gripping your waist tightly and pulling you closer to her, "woah, okay, maybe you're not in the best condition for walking." she jokes with a laugh, eyes scanning over your half-annoyed-half-happy face.

"good thing i'm here, right?" in one swift movement, she's carrying you bridal style, a smug smirk playing on her face.

you roll your eyes at her teasing words, but as she begins to move, your face drops. your hands are gripping at her neck in an instant, scared that she might drop you or something. but, her grip is tight, and she's holding you with more care than your boyfriend could even express, "relax, ma."

the nickname makes your heart flutter, eyes snapping to billie's only to find yourself falling even deeper in love—if that was even possible.

yeah. now you were sure you'd never find anyone like her.

TAGS. @mseilishmwah @sophloveswomen @mxqdii @livvydunneness @vyntagess @afteraftercare @wiidfi0wer33 @loving1dsworld @tan1shere @fallingforfalll2 @cierraonline @dandelions4us @scarlittt @ifwdominicfike @slxtarchive @stonerfromlesbos @bilsdillldough @47lake @hopingforgoodblogs @karaeilishh @mybluebossanova @sturnsmia @hopelessfawn @zayluvss @meliciousmel13

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lostalioth · 5 months ago

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𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐲

→ premise: miguel considered himself a very put together and composed man until your hands were on him, he lost himself.

→ pairing: sub!miguel o’hara x fem!reader

→ warnings: smut | 18+, handjob, overstimualtion, begging, miguel switches between spanish and english a lot

→ a/n: kinktober 10

Miguel was laid back with his legs widened to accommodate you sitting in front of him on your knees on the bed. He had been so over worked all day, you wanted to give him a little stress relief.

That was about three orgasms ago and he was a blabbering, needy, overstimulated mess now.

“Bebe, mhmm-mireda slow down please please” Miguel rambles out breathlessly, his brain on overdrive as his words switch between English and Spanish and his hips buck up into your hand. Your grip on his cock tightens as you speed up your movements, rubbing your thumb through his leaking tip when you go up. Your saliva and spit coating and dripping down his shaft from having him in your mouth earlier makes your hand glide along easier.

“Ay coño, amor ahh~ Por favor bebe i can't take it, no more” he cries out his fingers digging into your thighs as his hips thrust up and squirm. “You can give me one more baby come on Miggy” you slow down your movements just for him to catch his breath. “Just one more orgasm my love” you explain smiling sweetly at him, though he swears he heard those exact words before his last one. Miguel’s head was far too fuzzy and his cock throbbing too much from both his impending orgasm as well as the overstimulation to know if he was remembering correctly.

“Mi vida, Bebe mmm~ no puedo, s’to much, feels s’good but too much” he whines, all his words slurring together, his balls tighten like he’s gonna cum and yet he feels as though you’ve already drained it all out of him three orgasms ago. His eyes screw shut as his head falls back agaisnt the plush pillows behind him, hips still fucking up still into your hand as if they had a mind of their own. His cock aching and extra sensitive and yet still stiff as a rock, he’s barely gone soft this whole time as your hand hasn't left him for a minute. Your hands on his body, rubbing along his tip and shaft felt heavenly and painful at the same time and yet he makes no move to stop you. “I promise Miggy, one more baby, you're my big strong man you can do it” the latter half of your sentence was intended to be taken as you mocking him. He knew this, the position he was in, whining, panting, letting out strings of Spanish curse words that blend together with his English ones. He was a pathetic mess right now, not the typical strong well composed man he always was. He could care less however, this is what your touch does to him and it feels far too good to fight back against your teasing words.

”Gonna cum Bebe, please let me cum amor, necesito, fuck- hurts s’good” he moans out, his hips flattering in their synced rymth with your hand, now thrusting desperatly for your hand to milk the last drops of cum even left in his twitching overstimualted body. “Cum baby, cum for me” you command softly, watching as his face contorted in pain and pleasure mixed together as his high crashed over him hard. Long ropes of cum shoot out, spilling over your hand and even land on his chest and thighs. He lets out some morph of a whiny sigh of relief when finally after what has felt like hours, your hand moves off his hyper sensitive cock as it twitches and softens against his cum stained stomach.

→ a/n: sorry this is hella short, i have also never written much for miguel other than a wip i never posted nor even finished from a year ago soo also sorry for errors in the spanish, the little I know is rusty so

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sollucets · 1 year ago

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Akkayan or sandray?

this is a mean question and you're bullying me. akkayan

#rowan asks #nonny #look. listen. im Obsessed with sandray #their dynamic is unhinged and it is everything to me. i love their mess and their yearning and the walls between them #their smiles & their little handholds and their pushing and shoving #but you gotta understand akkaye like changed my brain chemistry.#i love sandray but i have related to few characters in my life like i relate to akk pipitphattana #he is nestled deep in my heart and aye is in there deeper for loving him despite it #i adore akkaye they're everything to me #and more i started really participating in this kind of fandom on tumblr and to a lesser extent in my fics because of them #so they've brought me a lot of joy in life this last year #sandray has too! ive made lots of great mutuals and friends during of lead-up and airing #but akkaye are special to me #<3

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owlcomics101 · 5 months ago

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“Welcome home.” Dog hybrid task force x human!reader

Warnings: SFW (I am a minor), fluff, blood, language (cussing), mentions of animal abuse/violence (I do not condone), reader is gender neutral

Context: The task force was forced to be relived of duty early after killing and mauling into their handler who they mistaken their handler’s scent for someone else during a long and hard mission. This was the perfect excuse for General Shepard to finally be rid of the task force. Lasswell did all she could, but to no avail. The best Lasswell could do was give the task force the best loving home for them and that’s where you came in. You’ve been looking for someone to help you out with the farm after your parents passed away. Hybrid or not, you weren’t picky. Lasswell looked through some possible homes and that’s when she saw you. She did interview you ahead of time before informing the boys and to your surprise she loved you. Now all you had to do was pick up the boys from the airport and drive them home.

You waited by the car. It was around 5pm as you leaned on your pickup truck out front of the airport. You weren’t use to public places, you always kept to yourself on the farm. You couldn’t help but lower your hat to hide your face as city folk stared and gawked at you. You were beautiful (Or handsome). Some tried to approach you to get a better look at your pretty face under the hat but they were quickly scared off by the approaching military men. The task force all had muzzles over their mouths, shock collars digging into their poor raw necks as they were being escorted by two big military men. Soap snarled as he was shoved around by the military men. Gaz kept his ears flat against his head as he quietly growled to himself, muttering curses under his breath. Ghost kept silent the whole time, refusing to make eye contact with anyone after what happened. After what they did. Price was the first to greet you, he held his hand out for a handshake.

“You must be Y/N, pleasure to finally be meeting you-“ Price got cut off by being shocked by his collar, having to jerk his hand away and keep quiet. Snarling under his breath knowing he spoke out of turn. You flinch when he slightly jolted from the shock. You’ve never seen hybrids treated so cruel before. You wanted to say something about that but one of the military men interrupted you, handing you a small remote to the shock collars.

“If they ever step even an inch out of line, give them a flash warning before shocking them. Up the voltage if you need to.” The military man on the right said before the left spoke up.

“Don’t hesitate to call us if things go south, this is a lot to handle and we appreciate your service for this.” The left said with a nod, shoving Soap forward to keep him from trying to run off.

“Agh-i'll rip yer arm aff if ye huv a go tae push me again!” Soap snarled, his fangs bared and visible through the muzzle before Ghost elbows Soap to cut it out.

“English Johnny…” Ghost whispers. Soap lets out a huff, narrowing his eyes at the military men. You went over to the back of your pickup truck, lowering the trunk down and gesturing for the task force to sit back in the trunk. Soap was the first to get into the trunk, to him anything was better than being with those two military men. Soap was followed by Gaz then Ghost and finally Price. Price couldn’t help but give you a weary glance as if it was a silent warning. You close the trunk behind Price before heading over to the driver’s seat and starting the pickup truck. Ghost watched your every movement with cold eyes before you shut the door, leaving the four to talk amongst themselves. The boys were silent for a moment as the truck starts making its way out of the parking lot. Soap finally broke the silence.

“Well, that was quite the welcome wagon.” He said sarcastically.

“Aye.” Gaz nods in agreement, trying to soothe his sore neck from the shock collar. “How much you lot wanna bet that farmer is gonna put us to work once we get there?”

“There’s nothing to bet.” Ghost said with a hint of a growl in his voice, his arms crossed and shoulders tensed as he tried to memorize the roads and streets you were driving on. He was already thinking up an escape plan just in case. Price glanced at Ghost and could tell what Ghost was plotting, but he was more focused on you. He was studying your face, your body language, your actions. Price damm well wasn’t just going to just let anyone house him and his team let alone a lone farmer that’s able shock them with a click of a button and take them away to somewhere much worse with just a phone call. This all had him on edge his thoughts were short lived when he suddenly felt his arm jolt. The pain of the shock still seemed to be lingering on his muscles-causing them to randomly spasm. Gaz immediately takes notice of this and puts a hand on Price’s arm.

“You alright cap?” Gaz asks, concern clearly on his face along with Soap and Ghost. “I’m fine.” Price brushed Gaz off his arm.

“Are you in any pain?”

“Always.” Price replied with a bitter chuckle which managed to ease some of the tension, but Price could tell they were still worried. After a moment of silence, Soap speaks up again.

”What do you think they’re like?”

“Who?” Gaz asks with a brow raised.

“The farmer.” Soap said with a scoff.

“Seems spineless to me.” Ghost muttered, adjusting his balaclava and letting out a huff before getting elbowed by Price. Ghost was about to protest when the truck suddenly comes to a stop. The truck slowly turns onto a long dirt road, leading up to a surprising small house on top of the hill with a large barn behind it. The boys couldn’t help but stare in awe of the house’s cottage-like atmosphere. The house was over run with plants but the plants weren’t wild or unkept, they were organized and grew on their own sides of the house. Most of the plants were flowers, berries, and some ivy here and there. It was beautiful, too beautiful. The sun was already setting behind the barn casting a shadow across the fields that was surprisingly calming. The night was already alive. Crickets and frogs were singing. Fireflies danced around the tall grass. Before the task force could even fathom how they managed to end up in a place like this, the engine to the truck turns off as you get out of the truck. You take your keys out and stuff them in your pocket as you open the trunk for the others. The task force slowly gets out, one by one giving each other confused looks as you walk over to them.

“Where the hell have you taken us-urk!” Soap was cut off by you suddenly grabbing his neck, the task force immediately rushed over to protect Soap. Soap himself about to grab onto you and throw you off of him when there was a sudden snap.

Soap’s shock collar fell to the ground with a thud. Soap immediately went to feel his neck-only to be met with raw skin rather than cold metal. Soap’s breath hitched as he felt around his neck. The others stared at Soap wide eyed before looking back to you as for the first time since they met you, you spoke.

“Welcome home.”

#cod #cod mw2 #call of duty modern warfare #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #captain john price #task force 141 #kyle gaz garrick #call of duty #gaz x reader #price x reader #soap x reader #ghost x reader #hybrid au #call of duty fanfic #cod x reader #reader inserts

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gloomwitchwrites · 7 months ago

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Last one I swear...What If 141...had an American girlfriend and they argued or had to teach them about some cultural differences? Football/soccer...currency...bathroom/loo, etc.

You said last one but we know that's not true. Don't blame you though. Keep them coming.

I love this idea. It's so cute! Translation mixup, confusion about slang, cultural differences, etc. Even though the Brits speak English, it's nothing like American English in a lot of respects, which is why I find this prompt so fun!

Wanted to make this quick and short. Presented in four drabbles. Enjoy!!

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

Task Force 141 x Reader

Content & Warnings: brief swearing, brief mentions of alcohol

Word Count: 400

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

“Those are cookies, Kyle.”

“It’s a biscuit.”

“No,” you say, shaking your head. “A biscuit is savory. Cookies are sweet.”

“Your biscuit is a scone.”

“Oh my god,” you groan.

An old lady navigates around the two of you inside the grocery store. Her cart almost clips you.

Kyle glances down at the list in his hands. “What the fuck is an eggplant?”

“We need it for dinner on Tuesday.”

“But what is it?”

You point and Kyle follows. His arm drops to his side and he side-eyes you.

“That’s an aubergine.”

“That’s an aubergine,” you mimic as Kyle laughs.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

The front of the pub is painted all black with intricate gold lettering. A nearby streetlamp casts the front window in a warm glow.

“Remember what I told you?” asks Simon.

You both stare at the pub, neither moving to the door just yet.

“Tell me again.”

Simon clears his throat. “If I’m buying a round, don’t offer money for your portion. Order at the bar but don’t linger. Know what you want. Respect closing time.”

He pauses and you see him turn in the reflection of the window.

“Got it?” he asks.

“Got it.”

“Let’s get bloody pissed then.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

“You’ve got this. Don’t stress.” Johnny grasps your shoulders and squeezes. “It’ll be fine.”

“What if I mess up. Make a fool of myself?”

“You won’t,” he affirms.

“Johnny.”

He sighs and then cups the sides of your face. “You don’t have to say anything but three things.” You breathe deep, and Johnny goes in for a quick kiss. “What are they?”

“Aye,” you say. “Which means yes.”

“Naw,” and this is you emphasize with a terrible accent that makes Johnny wince, “is no.”

“What else?”

“It’s okay to use ‘fuck’ casually in a sentence.”

“That’s my girl,” laughs Johnny.

John Price

“If you’re coming to the game, you’re calling it by its proper name,” says John, pointing at you.

“What?” you ask with pretend aloofness. “Soccer?”

“Football,” he growls with annoyance.

It irritates John when you call the sport by its American name. But you do it anyway just to tease him.

John holds up a jersey. “This is important to me.”

“I know.”

“It’s a game with the boys.”

You pat his shoulder. “I know, John.”

He sighs. “What is it called?”

You remain quite and John arches an eyebrow.

“Soccer,” you answer, grinning.

“You’re lucky you’re so damn cute.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@enarien @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @unhinged-reader-36 @miss-mistinguett

@ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @sageyxbabey @mudisgranapat @ninman82

@lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @yawning-grave81 @azkza @nishim

@haven-1307 @voids-universe @itsberrydreemurstuff @spicyspicyliving @keiva1000

@littlemisscriesherselftosleep @statixx-x @umno-yeah @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @kadeeesworld @iloveslasher @sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky

@suhmie @jaggersinclair @jackrabbitem @lxblm @beebeechaos

@no-oneelsebutnsu @kidd3ath @certainlygay @thewulf @lovely-ateez

@taysarchive @gingergirl06 @eternallyvenus @smileykiddie08 @vrb8im

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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year ago

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MW Reaction to You Leading Them On

Warnings: 18+, Implied Smut, Dark! Modern Warfare, Horny! Modern Warfare, Possessive Behaviour, Territorial Behaviour, Entitled Behaviour, Threatening Behaviour, Incel-Coded! Modern Warfare, Dub-Con Themes, Implied Age Gap (Price), Physical Restraining, Kidnapping, Breaking and Entering, Reader Being Held Hostage, Abuse of Physical Power, Slut Shaming, Pet Names, Profanity, No Pronouns Used For Reader Except You.

Ghost

You’d only just noticed that Ghost stood at the front door of his apartment as if he were guarding it. Perhaps from your attempts at leaving.

You’d tried apologising to him for ‘stringing him along’ as long as you had, but you genuinely believed the two of you were just being friendly, bantering. Nothing more to it.

Obviously, Simon hadn’t seen it that way. You know that now as you watch his hand slip down the front of his sweatpants, palming his erection through them.

“Why don’cha come and show me how sorry you are with that pretty little mouth of yours.” He’s so monotone when he says it that you think he’s joking. His face tells you otherwise.

Of course, you’re speechless. But Simon cares little for your bewilderment. He looks down at you, his eyes narrowing. When you don’t come to him, he steps towards you.

“You know,” he says, coming closer. You step back. “Y’hear about pretty little things like you wandering into a man’s trap. Gettin’ ravaged.”

He’s before you, now, all but chest-to-chest. His eyes are black. Gone is the man you’ve been playfully flirting with these last few months; who you’d tried to push over the edge with your accidental grazes, your unintentional whines, the batting of your eyelashes.

None of that will save you now. His voice carries the weight of a dark star.

“How do you know this isn’t exactly where I want you.”

König

König was eerily silent upon your rejection.

You both stood in his kitchen where, after watching you cook, his heart swelling beyond reason and fathom, König had blurted out that he liked you. A lot.

Unfortunately, you couldn’t return those feelings, only viewing König as a good friend at most.

And now, he stands sentinel over a reaction you can’t possibly predict. Especially as his eyes, usually crinkled with a smile and laughter, seem lighter than usual, as if drained of all their warmth.

“I see,” is all König says. He sighs, runs a hand through his hair. He leans back against the kitchen counter, one hand gripping its rounded edge while the other remains free.

“I suppose I only have one option, then.”

König stands to his full height, approaching you, invading your personal space. He’s almost chest-to-chest with you, the bulk of his frame, the size of his biceps becoming glaringly obvious to you now as his shirt struggles to contain him, pulled taut over his musculature.

“I’ll just have to destroy you for any other man you try to whore around with.”

The way in which he says it suggests indifference; as if this is something he’s done or thought about a million times before. He presses you into the counter, hands coming to rest either side of you. He bears down on you, jaw clenched and teeth gritted behind straight lips.

“Then you’ll have no choice but to come limping back to me.”

Soap

“Oh aye, Bonnie? You’re gonna drop me, just like that?”

The look Johnny gives you is one of incredulous disbelief. Yet, in some way, you feel that he already knew you weren’t dedicated to the idea of a relationship with him. Even after all the time you’d spent together, the many nights you’d enjoyed sleeping over at his apartment, the many treats you’d baked for him; these were all things one could easily mistake for friendship.

You’d considered that perhaps tonight hadn’t been the best time to let him down, regardless of how gently you did it, considering it was your weekly movie night and it was his turn to host.

You wish you’d listened to your inner self. Especially now as Johnny watches you, his eyes silver and sharp like a wolf’s. Without warning, he pounces on you, taking your wrists and planting them into the sofa cushions.

He lies atop you, heavy. Unmoving. Struggling only makes him grunt, a spark flashing in his eye.

“Tell you what,” he proposes. “If y’can still remember yer name by the time I’m through with you,” he presses his hips against yours. You gasp at the feeling of something heavy and pointed catching you.

“We’ll see how willing y’are to try’n lead me astray.”

Valeria

“I see how it is,” she sighs, arms crossed over her front. She has you tied to a chair in her office, mouth gagged as you try to plead with her through your tears, your eyes. “You thought you could have your cake and eat it too. Thought you could have me while trying to fuck every other bitch that crosses your path.”

You’d dared to try and break things off with Valeria – ‘things’ referring to the one-sided pursual of your love by a certain cartel mommy. But alas, your efforts to repel her had only strengthened her resolve – her need – to have you.

“I’ve dealt with your type before,” she says, bringing her face down to your level. You swear her eyes are black, devoid of the slivers of humanity she still possesses – somewhere. The wrinkle in her nose forecasts disgust, an emotion you know first-hand does not bode well with Valeria.

“I thought you were different. Thought you’d know to shut up and take what’s handed to you – especially when you’ve worked yourself so hard to get it.” Valeria’s hand comes down between your legs, her fingers wrapping around the meat of your thigh. Gripping. Tight.

“Maybe the you I’m looking for is buried in there somewhere.” You can taste the venom in her voice as her scrutinising gaze roves over your bound form. She brings her mouth to your ear, intentional and without haste.

“And all I need to do is fuck it out of you.”

Price

You considered for a moment that John hadn’t actually heard you. What, with his lax demeanour and total lack of acknowledgement of your rejection.

Of course, you were glad he wasn't reacting poorly, but to see him not reacting at all worried you.

“I could have you hidden away somewhere–” Price starts, lighting his cigar and not even looking at you, “–where you’d be for my eyes only.”

The fact that he says it so casually almost has you believing that you’ve misheard him. You blink, wait for him to prove you wrong

Much to your shock, he does nothing to quell your growing anxiety.

“Bet you’d like that – having the attention of an older man. ‘Specially since you’ve worked so hard to get it.”

Now, he looks at you, with eyes hard and sharp as diamond, half-lidded, a glare that could cut glass.

“Sitting on my lap, wearing those tight little shorts around me. Bet you wanted this to happen, didn’t’ya.”

When you don’t respond, too shocked to even conjure a response that could cover even a fraction of what John had said, he spoke for you.

“Well, Love, got anything to say for yourself?”

He didn’t give you time to answer. He took his legs off his desk and stood, staring at you.

“Better say it now since y’won’t be able to say much by the time I’m done with you.”

Horangi

“I just can’t believe you thought this would end well for you.” Hong-Jin paces before you as you sit on the edge of your bed, a hostage in your own home. Clearly, your rejection of his proposal to become his partner hadn’t ended well, hence the lock on your front door now lay broken, your security system disarmed.

“Especially after all I’ve spent on you, after all I’ve done to you – for you.”

His eyes never left you, staring you down. You tried not to shake, tried not to make a run for the door that, while open and tantalising in its beckoning for your escape, a steel model of a man patrolled it, patrolled you. Had you prisoner.

He stops before you, stands just inches from where your knees are jittering. His hands come down to grip them, giving them a squeeze. If it’s meant to be comforting, his intentions are lost in translation.

“Maybe I wasn’t clear enough with you,” he says. Offers you an out. “Maybe I’ve given you too much freedom.”

At that, he sinks to his knees before you and, without warning, parts your legs. You yelp, trying to pull away, but he keeps you tethered to the spot. His hands shoot to the top of your thighs and you can feel his fingers hooking over the sides of your bed shorts.

You try to reason with him, try to tell him you’ll do whatever he wants, so long as he doesn’t hurt you.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay. Only want to show you–” he pulls the sides of your shorts down– “what you’re missing.”

Alejandro

The instigator of such a cold reception from Alejandro had been your refusal of a date with him. One which, unbeknownst to you, he’d been planning and psyching himself up for for the past week.

“I see.” Alejandro’s face was stern, thunder clouds rolling over him, making his features dark and pointed. The onset of a storm.

You didn’t know what to say, what to do, as Alejandro stood by your front door, dressed as if he was prepared to take you out right now.

You could see his jaw clench, his eye twitch.

“Is there someone else?” he asks.

You know that getting rejected solely because someone favours another over you is bad, but being rejected without competition is worse. You swallow, unsure of which option will infuriate Alejandro more. When you fail to answer, he sighs.

“You know, I always thought you were smarter than this, (Y/N).” His voice is low and intentional, like a plane flying too close to the ground. You look up, only to find him staring down at you, taking up all the space of your doorway with his hand perched on top of it like it’s nothing.

“But maybe I just have to teach you.”

You try to speak up for yourself, try to ask Alejandro what he’s playing at, but he shushes you. Steps into your home.

“I’ll have you crawling back to me by the night’s end, Cariño.” His words carry a weight that roots you in place. “I promise you that.”

Rodolfo

“Oh, I know,” he says with all the certainty in the world. You’re in his apartment, coming to break the news to him that you can’t accept his boyfriend proposal; the one he’d sent you in a five-page-long love letter.

You blink, befuddled. “You…you know?” Your brow raises. “You’re taking this a lot better than I thought you would.”

Rudy gives a hum, a smiling one. He puts his hands in his pockets, leans against the wall behind him.

“That’s because I know you don’t mean it.” He gives you little time to contemplate his statement before he’s descending upon you like a solar eclipse. “I just needed an excuse to get you somewhere we wouldn’t be…” He searches for the right word. “Disturbed.”

Strange, considering how he was disturbing you right now. He went on.

“I mean, how else was I going to get you here? If I’d just text you, you could shoot me down without coming anywhere near me. But now,” he’s close enough that his hands rest on your arms when he reaches for you, pulling him closer to him. You stumble on uncertain legs.

His grip is soft but you feel trapped, even if Rudy is one of the few people you’d feel comfortable being trapped with.

“Now,” he says, voice low. He pulls you into his chest, hard with years of training.

“I can show you how well I can please you.”

Graves

Graves is far more used to being the player, not the played. So when he discovered that you were, in fact, engaging in what could be construed as promiscuous behaviour with him without the intention of falling for his charms, he went silent. His stare hardened.

He’d never admit it, but he’d actually grown to like you in the time you’d been together. A lot.

“So that’s it?” he says. His voice, usually rounded with his southern charm and honeyed words, strikes you like an arrow, ice and sharp. “We have a good thing goin’ and you’re just gonna throw it all away?”

You’d tried to explain to him that no, that wasn’t what you meant when you’d suggested some time apart. You just wanted to explore other options, is all.

He gives a whiplash, humourless laugh.

“Can tell you’re lyin’ from a mile away. I know you want me, need me.”

When you roll your eyes, ready to back out of the conversation altogether, he’s on you, closing the gap between you and gripping you by your shoulders. He presses you against the wall.

“Fight it all you want, but we both know you’re just gonna come crawlin’ back, so why don’t I make this easy for ya.” His breath is hot against your cheeks, a bull on the prowl. His fingers dig into your shoulders and he gives you an impish smile. One that seems to substitute something much more insidious.

“I’ll have you begging me to fuck you by the end of the night,” he promises. “One way or another, whether you like it or not, m’gonna make you all mine.”

Gaz

Gaz has played the nice guy for far too long. This, he realises as he watches someone try to chat you up from across the bar, only to make the fatal mistake he himself had made: leaving you unattended.

Gaz wasted no time. He slithered through the crowded bar to you, taking your wrist in his hand on his way. He dragged you to a small room, dark and out of the way. He locked the door behind him.

“What was all that about, then.”

He faces away from you, but even through the dim light of the one, flickering light bulb above you, you could see his shoulders heaving, his hands clenched into fists as he awaits your response.

A friend, just some guy – it doesn’t matter. Gaz turns and bears down on you, backing you against the wall. Your hands fly up to his chest to try and quell him, to put some distance between the two of you. His heart pounds and so does yours, albeit for different reasons.

“You’re mine,” he says. He pens you in, his form broad and sculpted by horrors unknown. A hand comes to take your chin between its fingers, jerking your gaze to meet his. “Have I not worked hard enough to be able to have you yet.”

His voice cracks, though he shows no signs of crying. No, Instead he presses his front to yours. Something catches your thigh and you gasp.

“Maybe you just need reminding,” he tells you, “of how much I’ve done for you.” He rolls his hips against you, his hands coming to bolt themselves on the wall behind you, caging you.

“How much I can do.”

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