#oh please do better tags if you reblog this :) | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lightdancingwords · 3 days ago

Text

Second Chances: Forever - Part Eight of ?

Pairings: Beau Arlen x Y/N Female reader Series Summary: A chance meeting in the grocery store brought a whirlwind of change to Beau Arlen’s life—change he had no issues with whatsoever. A second chance at life, love, family—a second chance at forever. Word Count: 2,972 Tags/Warnings: 18+ implied smut/smut, fluff A/N: Comments, Likes, Reblogs, Kind feedback are always highly appreciated. Please let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

NOTE: It’s here! Welcome, welcome to Second Chances: Forever! I have no idea how long this story will go on, and that is okay with me! I’ve been loving and enjoying writing Beau and his little corner of life! So like I said, until I get burnt out (unlikely) or run out of ideas (also unlikely), it’s ongoing! Divider: credit to @sweetmelodygraphics

Chapter Eight: Chaos

The peaceful, intimate moments of the early morning evaporated the second Eliza’s voice rang through the house like a tiny, determined alarm clock.

“MAMA! DADDY!”

Beau groaned dramatically, rolling onto his back as he threw an arm over his eyes. “Oh God, it’s too early for that volume.”

Y/N laughed, patting his chest before sliding out of bed, grabbing a robe. “Better get up, Sheriff. Sounds like we’ve got a situation.”

Beau sighed, reluctantly following her lead, stretching his arms above his head before rubbing a hand down his face. “Pretty sure she was born loud.”

“Definitely your child,” Y/N teased.

Beau smirked. “Our child, darlin’.”

As soon as they stepped into the hallway, they found Eliza standing in the middle of the living room, arms flailing. Her curls were a wild mess from sleep, and her very serious expression was accompanied by her stuffed wolf clutched in one arm.

“MAMA,” she announced again, eyes wide, “CALEB IS THROWIN’ TOAST.”

Y/N barely had time to process this before—

Thwap.

A perfectly buttered piece of toast landed face down against the kitchen floor.

Beau blinked. “Well. That’s new.”

Emily, standing at the kitchen counter in an oversized sweatshirt, hair messy, coffee in hand, pointed at Caleb, who was still sitting in his high chair, very pleased with himself.

“I tried to stop him,” Emily said, her voice still thick with sleep. “But apparently, chaos is genetic.”

Y/N sighed, making her way over to their mischievous one-year-old, who clapped his sticky little hands and let out a squeal of delight.

“Caleb,” Y/N huffed, wiping his hands with a napkin, “we eat toast, we do not launch it across the kitchen.”

Caleb babbled something very important in response, reaching for another piece.

Emily snorted. “Oh yeah. He totally understands.”

Beau smirked, pouring himself coffee. “Just lettin’ y’all know right now, I’m claimin’ plausible deniability. I didn’t teach him that.”

Emily raised a brow, sipping her coffee. “Yeah? So who did, Sheriff?”

Beau thought for a second. Then, slowly, he turned to Eliza.

Eliza gasped dramatically, clutching her stuffed wolf to her chest. “Daddy!”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head as she set a sippy cup in front of Caleb, who had finally decided to take a break from throwing his breakfast.

“All right,” she sighed, rubbing her temples. “Can we at least get through breakfast without someone launching more food?”

Emily plopped into a chair, still looking half asleep. “Not likely.”

Beau slid into his seat, sipping his coffee as he leaned back. “So,” he smirked at Emily, “enjoyin’ life with toddlers yet?”

Emily shot him a look. “Oh yeah, this is exactly how I wanted to wake up.”

Eliza scrambled into the chair beside her big sister, looking at her adoringly. “You sleep good, Bo-Bo’s big girl?”

Emily melted, her previous exasperation fading instantly. She reached over and ruffled Eliza’s curls. “Yeah, kiddo. I slept good.”

Eliza beamed. “Good! ‘Cause we gotta play today.”

Emily chuckled. “Oh, we do?”

“Yes.” Eliza nodded seriously. “And dress up!”

Emily blinked. “Hold up. Dress up as what?”

Eliza’s eyes sparkled. “Cowgirls!”

Beau grinned behind his coffee. “Oh, Em, you’re in trouble now.”

Emily groaned, dropping her forehead to the table. “I walked right into this.”

Beau smirked. “Welcome to the family, kid.”

Emily peeked up at him, a small, fond smile tugging at her lips. “Yeah,” she murmured, “guess I kinda like it here.”

Y/N pressed a hand to her heart, her chest warm at the moment unfolding in front of her.

Her husband.

Her children.

Her home.

No matter how chaotic the mornings were, no matter how much toast ended up on the floor—

This was everything.

The day was filled with exactly the kind of chaos that came with raising two little ones and entertaining a very enthusiastic big sister.

Eliza had successfully convinced Emily to participate in a full-blown cowgirl dress-up session—complete with cowboy hats, a makeshift lasso (which had nearly taken out a lamp), and Eliza insisting that they practice their “Yeehaw!” at least a hundred times.

Beau, ever the proud Texan, had made sure they learned proper lasso technique. (Y/N had promptly shut that down when Eliza tried to lasso Caleb in his playpen.)

After a spirited afternoon of dress-up, running around outside, and an ill-advised attempt at giving Caleb a cowboy hat (which he immediately tried to eat), everyone had settled down for a family movie night.

Beau had popped popcorn, Eliza had picked The Lion King (which had led to a very passionate debate over whether or not Scar was “the worst bad guy ever”), and Caleb had passed out in Y/N’s arms halfway through the movie.

Emily had spent most of the evening pretending she wasn’t interested—only to fully engage in a dramatic retelling of every emotional scene.

By the time bedtime rolled around, everyone was exhausted.

Caleb was tucked into his crib with minimal resistance, and Eliza had barely made it through her bedtime story before conking out, her stuffed wolf clutched to her chest.

Emily, despite her earlier claims of not being tired, had yawned her way toward the guest room, promising to make at least one more coffee run with Beau before she headed back to Texas and to school.

And now—

The house was quiet.

Beau let out a long, deep sigh as he sank onto the couch, stretching his legs out and rolling his shoulders. “Well, darlin’,” he murmured, rubbing a hand over his face, “I think I just survived my first-ever cowgirl boot camp.”

Y/N chuckled, curling up beside him, resting her head against his shoulder. “You thrived, Sheriff.”

Beau smirked, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “Damn right, I did.”

Y/N sighed contentedly, closing her eyes for a moment. “Think we’ll ever have a normal, quiet day?”

Beau snorted. “With our kids? Not a chance.”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “You love it.”

Beau smiled, wrapping an arm around her waist, his voice warm and full of love. “Yeah, darlin’. I really do.”

They sat there in comfortable silence, the warmth of the day still lingering around them.

A full house. A full heart.

And a lifetime of this—

Of love, of laughter, of family.

Forever.

The house was finally still.

The kids were asleep, Emily had retreated to the guest room (probably texting her friends about how she had been wrangled into a full-blown cowgirl initiation), and the only sound in the house was the faint ticking of the clock and the low hum of the Montana wind outside.

Beau stood in the dim glow of the bedroom, watching as Y/N moved through her nighttime routine, tying her hair back, slipping out of her clothes and into one of his old T-shirts.

God, she was beautiful.

She caught him staring and smiled. “You okay, Sheriff?”

Beau exhaled, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around her from behind, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Yeah, darlin’. Just watchin’ my wife be all kinds of perfect.”

Y/N let out a soft laugh, leaning back into him. “Mm. You always get this sweet when you’re tired?”

Beau pressed a kiss to the side of her neck, slow and lingering. “I always get this sweet when I’m lookin’ at you.”

Y/N’s breath hitched slightly as his lips traced down the curve of her neck, his beard grazing her skin in a way that sent a delicious warmth curling through her.

“Beau,” she murmured, her voice thick with something soft, something deeper.

He hummed in response, his hands sliding over her stomach, his touch slow, reverent.

She turned in his arms, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. His green eyes were soft, filled with something unshakable, something real.

Y/N reached up, cupping his face, brushing her thumb over his jaw. “You okay?” she asked quietly.

Beau swallowed, his hands tightening slightly at her waist. “Yeah. Just… still settin’ in.”

She knew what he meant.

The day. The kids. The baby growing inside her.

Their life.

Y/N smiled, her fingers trailing through the short hair at the nape of his neck. “You sure you’re ready for three, Sheriff?”

Beau chuckled, shaking his head. “Hell, darlin’, I don’t think I was even ready for one.”

She laughed softly. “And yet, you’re the best damn daddy I’ve ever seen.”

Beau’s expression softened, his hands sliding lower, gripping her hips. “That because I had a damn good woman to show me how it’s done.”

Y/N’s throat tightened, warmth spreading through her chest.

Then, gently, she tugged him down into a slow, deep kiss, her body pressing into his, needing to feel him, to remind him.

That he was everything.

That he was home.

Beau sighed into her mouth, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of her shirt, skimming over bare skin. His touch was deliberate, worshipful, like he wanted to memorize every inch of her all over again.

Y/N melted against him, sighing as he walked her back toward the bed, his hands still so careful, so steady.

When the backs of her knees hit the mattress, he pulled back slightly, his forehead resting against hers. “Darlin’,” he murmured, his voice thick with something deep, something intimate.

Y/N ran her fingers over the strong planes of his chest, her lips brushing against his. “Yeah?”

Beau smiled softly, tilting her chin up. “Just wanna love on my wife tonight.”

Y/N’s heart clenched in the best way.

She nodded, pulling him down with her. “Then love me, Sheriff.”

And he did.

Slowly.

Reverently.

With hands that traced over her like she was something sacred.

With kisses that whispered forever.

With a love so deep, so unshakable, that she knew—

No matter how many kids filled their house.

No matter how chaotic their days got.

No matter what came next—

Beau Arlen would always love her like this.

And that was all she needed.

The soft glow of dawn stretched through the curtains, casting warm golden streaks across the bed. The house was quiet, save for the occasional creak of wood as the Montana wind brushed against the walls.

Y/N stirred slowly, feeling the warmth beside her before she even opened her eyes.

Beau was there, wrapped around her, his body solid and steady, his arm draped over her waist like he had no plans of letting go anytime soon. His chest was warm against her back, his slow, even breaths fanning against her shoulder.

She smiled sleepily, shifting just enough to press back into him.

Beau hummed low in his throat, tightening his grip, pulling her closer. “Mm,” he murmured, his voice thick with sleep, “not yet.”

Y/N smirked, tilting her head to press a kiss to his jaw. “Not yet what?”

Beau cracked one eye open, smirking as he nuzzled against her. “Not ready to start the day. Need a few more minutes of this.”

Y/N sighed contentedly, running her fingers up his arm, feeling the strength beneath his skin. “You do realize the kids are gonna be up any second, right?”

Beau exhaled heavily, his forehead resting against her shoulder. “Don’t remind me.”

Y/N laughed, turning in his arms so she could face him. His green eyes were still soft, heavy with sleep, but there was something else in them too—something warm, something unshakable.

She traced her fingers over his jaw, feeling the roughness of his trimmed beard. “You okay?”

Beau studied her for a moment, his hand sliding down to rest over her stomach, thumb tracing absentminded circles. “Yeah,” he murmured. “I really am.”

Y/N’s heart squeezed as she watched the way he looked at her, the way his fingers lingered over the place where their baby was growing.

Beau exhaled slowly. “Still can’t believe it, y’know? That we’re doin’ this again.”

Y/N smirked, teasing, “You mean surprise baby number three?”

Beau groaned dramatically. “Don’t remind me.”

She laughed, running her fingers through his hair. “Oh, you love it.”

Beau smirked, pressing a slow, lazy kiss to her lips. “Damn right, I do.”

Y/N sighed into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, letting herself get lost in the warmth of him, in the steady, unshakable love that filled every part of their life.

Then—

Bang.

Thump-thump-thump.

“MAMA! DADDY!”

Beau groaned against her lips. “There it is.”

Y/N chuckled, pressing one last kiss to his mouth before pulling back. “Told you.”

Beau sighed, running a hand down his face. “Five more minutes.”

Y/N smirked. “You wanna tell Eliza that?”

Another thump against the door.

“I KNOW YOU AWAKE!”

Beau groaned. “Jesus Christ.”

Y/N laughed, swatting his chest as she slid out of bed. “C’mon, Sheriff. Duty calls.”

Beau grumbled, rolling onto his back before letting out a deep sigh. “I love our kids, darlin’, but I swear to God—”

Y/N grinned, pulling on her robe. “Mm. You love them.”

Beau exhaled, sitting up, shaking his head. “Yeah. I do.”

The peace of the morning lasted exactly three more seconds before absolute chaos erupted.

Eliza barreled into the room, her wild curls bouncing as she climbed straight onto the bed, landing directly on Beau’s stomach.

“DADDY!”

Beau let out a loud grunt, his arms immediately flying up in self-defense. “Jesus Christ, Eliza Jo, you tryna take me out?”

Eliza giggled, completely unbothered. “You awake now?”

Beau sighed dramatically, scrubbing a hand down his face. “I was.”

Before he could even sit up, another loud noise echoed from down the hall.

“MAMA!”

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

Beau groaned. “What now?”

A thump came from the hallway.

Then Emily’s voice—slightly panicked. “Uh—Y/N? Help?”

Y/N immediately threw on her robe and bolted toward the door. “Oh God.”

Beau groaned, flopping back onto the pillows. “It’s too early for whatever that was.”

Eliza grinned, still sitting on his stomach. “C’mon, Daddy! Time to get up!”

Beau let out a long, dramatic sigh, running a hand over his face. “Darlin’, I swear you’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

Eliza giggled. “No!”

Meanwhile—

When Y/N reached the kitchen, she immediately understood why Emily had called for help.

Caleb was covered in oatmeal—his face, his hands, his hair—as he sat happily in his high chair, smacking his hands against the tray, sending tiny bits of food flying.

Emily stood frozen beside him, a spoon in one hand, her entire left sleeve splattered with oatmeal.

“I tried,” she said weakly, “but he’s so fast.”

Y/N snorted, grabbing a washcloth. “Yeah, welcome to the sport of feeding a one-year-old.”

Caleb squealed happily, slapping his hands into his tray again.

Emily flinched, stepping back as another chunk of oatmeal went flying.

“Oh, hell no,” she muttered, grabbing a paper towel and dabbing at her arm. “I love this kid, Y/N, but he is sticky.”

Y/N laughed, wiping Caleb’s face. “You get used to it.”

Emily scoffed. “Do you?”

Before Y/N could answer, Beau finally made his way into the kitchen, still looking half-asleep, carrying a very giggly Eliza upside down over his shoulder.

He exhaled dramatically, plopping her into her chair. “All right, little terror, you sit here while I drink coffee and try to figure out what disaster I just walked into.”

Emily gestured to Caleb. “This. This is the disaster.”

Beau took one look at his oatmeal-covered son and groaned. “Jesus Christ, son. What did you do?”

Caleb clapped, his whole body vibrating with excitement.

Beau shook his head, reaching for a coffee mug. “Y’know, there was a time in my life when my mornings were quiet.”

Emily snorted, sliding into a chair. “And then you had kids.”

Beau sipped his coffee, grumbling, “And married chaos.”

Y/N grinned, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “And you love it.”

Beau sighed, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah.”

After breakfast (and a very necessary wipe-down of Caleb), the family gathered at the front door, Emily slinging her bag over her shoulder.

“You sure you don’t wanna stay a few more days?” Y/N asked, adjusting Caleb on her hip.

Emily smiled, ruffling Eliza’s hair. “I wish, but I got classes. Gotta keep my genius streak alive.”

Beau smirked. “Well, if you ever need a break from that genius life, you know where to find us.”

Emily grinned, hugging him. “Don’t let Caleb throw too much food at you while I’m gone.”

Beau groaned. “No promises.”

Eliza tugged on Emily’s sleeve. “Big sissy, you come back soon?”

Emily’s expression softened instantly, her eyes shining as she knelt down. “Of course, kiddo.”

Eliza beamed, throwing her arms around Emily’s neck. “I miss you when you go!”

Emily hugged her tight, pressing a kiss to her cheek. “I miss you too, little wolf.”

After one more round of hugs, Emily turned to Y/N, smirking. “All right, let’s get this show on the road before I get suckered into staying another week.”

Y/N laughed, grabbing the car keys. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s go.”

Beau leaned down, pressing a kiss to Y/N’s lips. “Drive safe, darlin’.”

Y/N melted into him for a second before pulling back. “I always do.”

As she and Emily stepped out the door, Eliza called after them—

“MAMA, BRING ME BACK A COW!”

Beau choked on his coffee. “JESUS CHRIST.”

Emily wheezed with laughter as she climbed into the car. “You’re so screwed.”

Y/N grinned as she buckled her seatbelt. “Oh, I know.”

And with that, they pulled out of the driveway, leaving Beau standing there, rubbing his temples.

Beau let out a long sigh, looking down at Caleb, who was now drooling on his sleeve.

The baby grinned, babbling, “Da-da!”

Beau sighed dramatically. ��Kid, you have no idea what kind of house you were born into.”

And with that, he stepped inside, preparing for whatever chaos awaited him next.

Because in this house?

Mornings were never boring.

And he wouldn’t trade it for the world.

Tag List: @spxideyver, @deadlymistletoe, @bitchykittenconnoisseur, @aarpfashionvictim, @stoneyggirl2

@foxyjwls007, @katastrophicmind, @globetrotter28, @deansimpalababy, @daisychaingirl

@nancymcl, @deans-baby-momma, @kickingitwithkirk, @kmc1989, @ozwriterchick

Want to be a part of this tag list or others? Comment here and I'll add you! And check out my other stories that are currently being written!

21 notes · View notes

yerbamansa · 1 month ago

Text

Signups open through February 10 for the OFMD Craft Fair to raise money for the Campaign for Southern Equality's Trans Youth Emergency Fund!

Fan artists, crafters, and creators, help raise money to support trans youth with your work! Check out the carrd for signup links, schedule, and more information.

Organized by @ghostalservice (but follow them on bsky for more)

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd craft fair #oh please do better tags if you reblog this :)

103 notes · View notes

8lah8lah · 2 years ago

Text

"both sides of shipcourse are wrong" says person about to not bat a fucking eye when someone on one side gets chased off the fucking internet and doxxed and told they deserve assault for liking ships that are abusive in a way they dont immediately understand/relate to. "shipping discourse is just sooo dumb and immature" says person about to fucking gasp and scream and tell all their mutuals and post "STOP putting ***** on my dash in 202_" vagues like A Gross Drawing Existing In The World is going to singlehandedly groom and traumatize and enable and Normalize everything for everyone on the planet simultaneously for simply being put out there and it being out there is a category 10000 mental safety hazard that they must bravely defend people from. "youre stupid if you care about ship discourse lmao" posts brave tumblr user about to get really upset publically over One person they saw shipping a like, 4-year age gap between two fictional chars that's there if you Squint, an opinion that Clearly has NOTHING to do with very specifically one side of the discourse

#8log upd8 #bottom line i really really Rreally resent people going 'oh haha this Stupid Internet Drama #is So Dumb and everyone who cares about it is dumb too' followed by #literally ruining somebody's life because they never bothered to look into or learn why #that person likes the stuff they do. OR LIKE GIVE THEM ANY GOOD FAITH AT ALL?#at the very very very very fucking least you would ASSUME these people see someone getting #Harassed Off The Fucking Internet and go hm did this person really deserve it. what did they do #and why and what is their side of the story.#NOPE its just Ummmm make sure to not reblog from *** or youll get Freak Poisoning by proximity!!#it's why i don't really post my own stuff on here anymore; i don't feel comfortable-#-being in a social environment where people will just up and decide someone deserves #to Not Exist where they can see them anymore. even if it's not me it's happening to #it's too cruel and i can't stand it ._.; if you do or allow stuff like this please unfollow me #or better just block me outright. 'oh but what if they post-' I Don't Fucking Care #unless they're posting about specific real living/lived human beings in harmful ways #they don't deserve this shit and even if they WERE posting about real people (they arent.)#what do you think online harassment would do to stop that? you think predators are gonna #get vagued and go Aw shucks ive been caught better stop being weird about specific real children!#tags are getting long lol sorry

12 notes · View notes

lucianinsanity · 2 years ago

Text

Every time some science fact is mentioned and it's something that was discovered thanks to the help or invention of your country and you die a little for the lack of acknowledgment

Anyway if you’re from the US and you ever wanted to know what tumblr feels like from a non-USAmerican perspective (please note that the rest of the world is not a monolith either and none of these apply without exception):

Everybody’s talking about brands and stores you’ve never seen in real life. You generally assume they exist, but they might as well be one giant prank the rest of the internet is in on.

You find a post that just sounds wrong. It makes no sense. It’s like OP lives in a weird alternate reality. 9/10 times, it’s just some USAmerican Thing.

You’re still not entirely sure how much an inch is. Or a foot. Or even how many of the former there are in the latter. You maybe know your height in feet and inches.

You have no idea how much a pound is. You’d also like to know how the fuck pound shortens to lbs.

What the fuck is “military time”

Somebody talks about some legal process or something similar. They don’t mention which country’s legal system this pertains to. You know anyway.

People talk about politics. None of it pertains to you. Many posts contain guilt tripping. “How can you not care about this?? Why won’t you reblog this?? People need to know this about x candidate for y position!” You’re busy trying to stay on top of the political landscape in your own country.

You pick up some random slang from the internet. Monkey see monkey do. You’re called racist. You didn’t know it was AAVE. You learnt it from black letters on white background, not from the mouths of people whose faces you could see. How would you have known? You try to unlearn it.

People tell you that you must publicly denounce Chick-fil-A or you’re homophobic. You don’t even know what a Chick-fil-A is.

People say you don’t know LGBTQ+ history. What they mean is you don’t know USAmerican LGBTQ+ history. Nobody cares about your country’s history.

You’re “called out” on using an “offensive” term. It’s (a direct translation of) a completely harmless word where you live.

People expect you to have an idea of how far apart 2 USAmerican states are. You barely know geography past your country’s immediate neighbors.

You randomly switch between British and American spellings. Nothing’s real and there are no rules.

People talk about multiple hour car rides and you get twitchy just thinking about it. You suddenly understand why USAmerican cars are so big.

Somebody talks about school shooting drills. You only ever had fire alarm drills.

You see a cool statistic. The study’s only about the US. It’s unfortunately of no use to you.

People misuse/misspell words and names from your native language. It’s tiring.

(You feel sorry for the French. Nobody should be allowed to mangle the word déjà vu like that.)

You’re still not over the fact that USAmerican school children are supposed to say that pledge thing every morning. You’re never getting over that.

You still don’t know why the men are fresh or what the fuck a sophomore is.

Who the fuck pays up first and then fills up gas??? That’s made up, right??

Everybody has a weird obsession with some comfort food you’d never even heard of before you signed up here.

Fellow non-USAmericans, please add anything else you can think of.

#in the tags just because I want to compare #hell measurements are never going to make sense #temperature either #you always know the one that does not clarify ''the law'' is from US the rest of us say 'in my country'#I reblog some issued about US but it's purely because I think if they go through the countries like mine that have people trying to...#imitate ''better'' countries are going to get worse (like mine I wish it wasn't like that)#I try to not use slang for that reason #I know so much about US queer history is boring at this point #I need to learn more about our own history (which is awesome sometimes you know)#firts country with same sex marriage in latin America let's goooo #between cities is usual here to travel for hours #on the same city is too much unless is a big city so that's a little more understandable #but yeah the US is so damn big #I don't think we even have an evacuation plan at all stuff like that just doesn't happen #statics 🙄 infuriating #if y'all are going to use words from my language please learn the language #we do sing to our flag but I don't think is literally a pledge (nobody actually sang tbh)#baby the school years change from province to province you think I can understand the system of another country?????#I do understand the food thing but not the food choices #yeah I'm trying to learn more about the politics of my country because we have to vote this year 🙄#every time someone from my country is in an US video I go ''oh god what????'' and it only happens once a year #y'all treating cities like enemies we have countries that go ''my brother!!!!!!'' here

116K notes · View notes

simpjaes · 2 months ago

Text

SWEET LITTLE MONEY MAKER. ― S.JY

When your best friend quite literally gifts you an entire man, you realize that you’re in no place to pretend that you don’t love it. or the one where you’re very much an “i don’t need a man” type of person, and Jake shows you that you do, in fact, need a man….him, you specifically need him. Only because he needs you.

MDNI! reblogs help writers, so please show your support through a reblog! PAIRING ― stripper!sim jaeyun x rich!afab reader

WORDCOUNT― 13.6k

CONTENT― he’s a switch and desperately wants to be ur sugar baby, you’re a boring rich bitch who has no interest at first, masturbation, reader is kind of power-hungry, jake chokes her NOTE ― if you’ve read this before, specifically for jeno, hi. that was written by me back in 2022 except now it’s way better and not an absolute trash-fire. enjoy! not proof read kind of.

nsfw tags under cut::

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

NSFW TAGS― jake is a stripper so obv dancing and stripping, HE’S VERY SWITCH BUT MOSTLY SUBBY HERE, hand job, masturbation, choking without permission, finger fucking, making out, protected sex omg GASP, slight nipple play, riding, lil bit of stomach bulge, sensitive cock continues to get fucked lmfao

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It was a gift, or rather, he was the gift.

A downpayment of six hundred dollars told you enough about the man. It’s obvious he offers his services to lonely, sad, rich women who have no one else to spend their money on. A parasite, a leech, is what he is. Yet, still, your best friend has been taunting you with the idea for months in an attempt to have you give the guy a try.

She had apparently heard of the infamous Jake through various means. All rich women, all lonely and unsatisfied women. Which, to you only seems like a fucking insult to be taunted with the very idea of hiring this man. What is she implying? That you’re lonely and unsatisfied? Please.

Some best friend. Then again, she has since experienced Jake herself, and now her taunting feels more like…promises.

“He’s so clean, toned, and oh god–” She had paused with a flush across her cheeks as she thought back to the heated night. “The way he moves, shit, he teases so much. I could have died right then and there if he were to–”

The expression of disinterest on your face did not halt her doting, nor did the blatant grimace you eventually shot at her. Genuinely, you cannot take her seriously. Already you know too much about her, which is nice and all, but you could do without the details of her little stripper friend and how “wet” he left her.

“I even heard that sometimes he even gives special treatments with his services…” She had rolled her eyes after she said that, almost looking offended. “Not that I'd know or anything, he took my cash and left when our session was up.”

You recall knowing exactly what that “treatment” probably entailed, and the reason your best friend didn’t get it was likely due to the fact that she’s, well, not that rich. You’d assume such an expensive man wouldn’t give special treatments to women who wouldn’t end up being repeat customers anyway. Or, maybe, he just wasn’t trying to drain her dry.

And even with all of the information being dangled in front of your face, practically force fed to you, the image should be more delicious than the century-old wine you have every night at dinner– for the entire duration of her doting compliments of Jake, you are simply not fucking interested. There’s other things to do in life, more to worry about than getting your body excited for someone who will never finish the job.

Last week was when your bestie told you all about her single night with him. In fact, her entire visit was just her speaking of him, of how great he is, of how alluring he is. Arguably, you see that she’s a bit obsessed. Does it make you curious? Maybe a little bit, but not enough to actually give him a go yourself. And so, after that visit, you watched her leave with a menacing, evil little glint in her eye. You ignored it, as per usual considering she’s always up to something, unaware that the visit she lends to you today is not a complimentary marketing campaign of a male stripper, no, it’s a fucking ambush.

When she appeared at your doorstep, she said nothing. She didn’t even look you in the eye, actually. Weird. She did, however, have an envelope in her hand and you were almost offended at how she threw it at you and trotted away without a single greeting or goodbye. No afternoon lunch over champagne, no gossip, no advertising. Just an envelope.

Suspicious.

Upon opening said envelope, you find that your bitch of a best friend dropped that six hundred dollar down payment, likely in an attempt to force you out of being the stick in the mud that you always are. There’s a note. Your name in bold letters, a date, a time, and a signature of none other than “Jake Sim” with a fucking website on the back.

Shortly after huffing and rolling your eyes, about two seconds from tossing her six hundred dollars in the trash, you feel your phone ping to show your best friend texting you.

Best Friend: I paid for it, you just have to tip him. a lot. tip him a lot. You: why the fuck would you buy a stripper for me?

Best Friend: you need it, trust me.

So, now here you are waiting for that knock on your door and wondering why you even tried to look nice for some dude that’s about to swing his meat in your face. Appearance, reputation, whatever. Fucking unbelievable, you think, that there’s a stripper out there that only does private parties and your own best friend thinks you need it? You could have any dick you want, why the fuck should you have to pay just to look?

He’s going to be expecting more than just you here, alone in your house. Surely, he won’t be expecting to waltz into someone’s home all oiled up only to find one very disinterested woman.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

To your dismay, Jake has apparently already been warned of you. Your best friend probably told him that you’re a nightmare, too difficult to fluster or gain an interest from. The first words out of his mouth when you opened your door was “She said you’d give me that look.”

Still, even so, your best friend wasn’t lying to him. You played the part of yourself all too well as you watched him saunter into your home as if he owned the place. You’re impressed actually, with the way he doesn’t seem to feel out of place in such a lavish room. He looks…comfortable here as he scopes out his stage for the night, like he belongs.

“Big place, looked smaller on the outside.” He says casually, filling the silence in the room since you make no attempt yourself to greet him.

You watch as he tosses his bag beside your living room couch and eyes the spacious area just in front of the large fireplace. His eyes flick to the windows, to the walls, counting the outlets and looking for shelves with space.

“The smaller the better, sometimes it feels too big in here for just me.” You finally speak, admitting a small weakness of yours almost immediately. You are lonely, despite never wanting to admit it. And you watch as he shrugs, now crouching to grab wires from his bag.

“Oh yeah?” He glances at you. “Must get lonely. What a good friend to purchase me to help you with that.”

You bite the inside of your cheek at that, noting his calm and cool tone as he talks his business. The little smirk at the corner of his lips is charming, but it’s all for show. He’s just a pretty man, that’s all he’s got going for him and you guess you can respect the hustle.

“This was not my doing.” You cross your arms, pretending to be unimpressed.

“Yeah, yeah–” He waves you off as he begins to set up, making space for small lights to set the mood, looking to see if you have a sound system he can use. “I already know that you’re new to this.” He’s still calm, still collected.

“Lucky for you, first-timers are my favorite to entertain.” He smirks again, now looking directly at you as he, now, fluffs some of your couch pillows.

Your curiosity spikes again only for a moment. You really did think that the initial meeting would be different, less casual. You half expected him to waltz in cock swinging. Wasn’t he, like, supposed to pretend to be a cop or something? You know, show up and press play on a magical stereo that didn’t exist beforehand and start vibrating on you?

Instead, he’s just setting up…fully clothed in a ratty sweater with jeans that hug his thighs. He doesn’t appear at all to be a man that gets paid to take his clothes off. It makes you wonder. Makes you want to ask questions. Then again, you still have no interest in learning about him considering you already know exactly what he will be doing soon enough.

“You’re good with the mood lighting, yeah? Or do you prefer the morgue lighting?” His eyes shoot up to the bright white lights on your ceiling as he goes for his laptop now, presumably to connect it to your very obvious sound system.

You only take slight offense to his comment on your living room lighting, considering you have a control panel that can make them way less blinding, but– he’s right. And now you’re a little insecure that you prefer such a drab color in your home. You make your way to the wall, clicking the buttons on the panel just to prove you have warm lighting too, and that you can adjust the brightness.

“Ah, perfect.” Jake hums from across the room, eyes focused on his laptop screen before glancing to you and your extravagant light switch. “A little lower.” He guides you, knowing exactly which lighting accentuates his toned body the best when paired with his own little LED colored lights.

You turn the knob slightly, wondering just how good he must be at dancing in houses like this one.

“Little more.” He smiles

You dim the lighting more, looking at him and his relaxed posture.

“Right there.” He finishes in a more gentle tone, eyes focusing back on his laptop as he prepares not only the playlist but the mood lighting from his end too. Red. Lots of red.

And you just watch, his voice ringing in your ears as you try to pretend that your best friend wasn’t right. Even with just this casual set up…he’s…goddamn, he’s alluring. In that ratty old sweater, with his messy hair and pretty smile.

Stunning.

This motherfucker is stunning.

“Go and sit–” Jake says now, nodding to your couch as he places his laptop down, presumably done with the set up. “Just tell me where I can get myself ready and I’ll be back out shortly.”

You point towards the guest bathroom as you take your seat on the couch, unsure as to why your hands feel so clammy. And by the time he rounds the corner and you can hear the bathroom door shut, you attempt to make yourself comfortable.

And goddammit, no matter how many times you’ve napped here on this plush and soft surface, you can’t find the comfort here right now. The curiosity of why you’re okay with this burns in your gut despite knowing exactly why. Despite the fact that your best friend can always see straight through you and know exactly what you are.

At the end of the day though, why the curiosity exists isn’t what matters. It’s the curiosity itself. You want to know how much money Jake makes doing this, if he likes doing it, how he got started, what he does to advertise himself in a way to only find women like you, and many other things. Countless things. He’s hot as hell, actually, and how he’s come to do this kind of work is either one of two things. One being that he’s using what the Gods gave him to the fullest. Two, being that he had no other choice.

If he’s going to be paid to give you attention, the least you can hope is that he does it because he enjoys it, not because he has to do it. And if it does end up being because he has to do it, then perhaps his tip would be even larger than what you’d give for the ladder.

You’re uncomfortable.

The fact looming that you genuinely could go out and find a man at any given moment, yet here you are with a man forced upon you because you simply won’t do it. The implications of this man being here, why he’s here, how he ended up in this situation.

You’ve never been one to care, so why start now?

“You overthink too much.” Your best friend had said to you once, twice, hundreds of times during your friendship. Maybe she’s right, maybe you should just enjoy the show without feeling entitled to a slutty man’s life story.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake remains in the bathroom for a good thirty or so minutes, each of them passing like a nightmare in your head. Back and forth your brain goes, from not wanting to be in this situation to fighting yourself for being such a fucking bore. A very, very attractive man is primping himself for you to look at, he’s going to come out and do his best to turn you on, the least you can do is let yourself enjoy something for once. Enjoy him. Gawk and fawn over him. After all, at least you know there’s no promise to be had after he leaves.

No missed calls, no blocked numbers. This is business.

Fucking thankfully, the moment he comes out of your bathroom your mind has adjusted itself into the correct state of mind for this. A torturous adventure of thoughts, but you made it nonetheless. You actually can’t even look away from him now that he’s revealed himself, even when you tried. He isn’t dressed in anything that looks tacky or cheap. Hell, he doesn’t even look sexual. He just looks…

Expensive.

Jake genuinely looks like this is a place where he belongs. He smells like he belongs here, walks and murmurs like it too.

You feel yourself physically react to him in his blazer and dress pants. Business is what got you to where you are today, but never have you found the attire sexy in any way until now. The suit looks much like what your team would wear day to day in the office. Always all those shy men coming into your office, stuttering through their questions and need for approvals. Jake isn’t stuttering in his suit though, he’s standing confidently at his laptop as if he hasn’t even noticed you staring yet.

One look from him though is all he needed. Choosing this attire for someone like you is sure to mix both business and pleasure. It was a gamble of course, to bring your work home for you, but he does have the slight hope that you’ll never look at a man in a suit the same way again after this.

And goddamn the way his abs were glistening in the dim lighting before he had turned away from you. His blazer was partially open revealing nothing but skin when he walked into the room, and you honestly wonder if he even needed to do that. He could be fully clothed at this point and you think the room would still feel hotter than usual given your mind-state.

The way his belt held his pants on his hips was enough to have you thinking, looking as if it’s begging to be unbuckled just so the sound of it could fill your ears. The way the blazer widens his shoulders much more than the sweater from before. He looks bigger right now, both physically and in aura.

The scent of him wafted off of him in an even prettier way when paired with his image. He smells like a sweet type of musk, something you’d be interested in drinking alongside your dinner on special occasions. And under the assumption that the scent is why his abs are fucking glistening– fucking body oil. He uses body oil for this.

His hair rustles about when he turns to face you again, this time with the bass of whatever song he’s playing accentuating each step towards you. So…the talking is done then? Your cheeks heat up at how quickly he starts his session with you, even without a single roll of his body. Already, you could eat him alive, the smirk on his face leading your eyes straight to him.

Trailing down, down down. To his neck, that small glimpse of exposed chest, to the even more exposed lower abdomen section. His belt.

“Good?” He asks, leaning over you and placing his hands on either side of your head as he grips the couch.

You can’t look up at him, eyes training on his chest that you can now fully see through his single buttoned blazer. That same sweet musk assaulting your lungs.

Watching you from up here, Jake can tell you’re going to be fun to play with. A woman with such a harsh exterior now melting at the mere image of him when he’s got the right lights on him. To be fair, he really was warned and prepared by your friend, which didn’t seem the type to afford him on more than one occasion.

He thought it was nice that she paid for another session, shocking him to learn that it wasn’t for herself at all. What a wonderful friend, and what a bitch you’d be to have turned him away.

Finally, you nod to him, still eyeing his body in a shameful show of how much you genuinely did need this. What’s so bad about paying to look? Especially when the man is Jake, and he’s presenting himself like this.

“Rule number one.” Jake smiles, swaying in front of you as his grip tightens against the couch, wanting you to feel trapped and hopefully mesmerized by him, “I only accept bills of twenty, fifty, and one hundred. If you toss a fucking dollar, I’m leaving.”

That’s clearly not an issue you could fathom having, despite your internal protests. You only carry bigger bills anyway so you nod to him, quickly forgetting he even shared that ridiculous rule that would never apply to you by means of watching his hips swirl rather than sway. You see the heaviness in his pants, and you wonder if he gets himself hard for these little shows.

You fear looking up at his face now too, because you know he’s staring down at you, watching your every breath, every move.

“Rule number two,” He lends down now, lowering his voice and blowing against your ear in a short breath. “Don’t touch me without being invited, or without asking.”

Now, that’s a rule that applies to you only because you immediately want to defy it. There’s a knee jerk reaction almost that makes you want to reach out, to grip his flexing body and pull it closer. You wanted to feel how slick his skin is with that wonderfully scented oil. You wanted the scent on your fingers for later, you wanted to feel how warm he must be.

He doesn’t wait for your nod this time though, already noticing a familiar look on your face that he gets from most, if not all, of his clients. This is why he’s so in demand, after all. If he plays hard to get, sometimes he gets more out of his sessions. Sometimes he even gets a repeat client.

“And rule number three–” He continues, this time pulling back and positioning his face in front of yours. This rule appears to be an important one, the rule where you need to look at his face rather than his body. As if it needs to be heard. “I won’t touch you unless you ask– or beg.”

What you’re not realizing at this moment is that rule number three isn’t something he often speaks of. Sometimes, very rarely, Jake is in a mood when he goes out on a job. Condoms are always with him, just in case, but he never intends to use them or utter rule number three until meeting said client. They pay to look at him, not to touch him, however…if they pique his interest he surely offers the third rule.

And if a client never hears of it, they know that even if they ask to touch, he would never. Even if they want him to touch, he wouldn’t touch anywhere too pleasurable.

Meaning, you were right to assume what he was doing in your bathroom for so long. His hand felt better than usual against his length for the split second he had of tucking it into the most attractive position. He knew instantly that tonight was one of those nights, and you were to be a point of his own desire too. He played with himself for a bit, allowing himself to get half hard before coming out of the bathroom.

The way you looked at him finished the job, allowing his cock to grow to full attention at the mere sight of you fawning over him in silent discomfort. So– yeah, the third rule being for you was a given.

And when you swallow around a lump in your throat and look dead into his eyes, he thinks you know exactly what he means too. You’re lucky his cock is acting up, hell, he’s lucky it’s acting up. Look at you, fuck. Those tired eyes look ignited, and what luck the two of you have to have ever known your best friend.

“Deal?” He finally says, tilting his head cutely and waiting for you to nod. And you do nod, just as he suspected you would. Slowly, before glancing down at his body again.

He knows now that it’s time to start moving. Really moving.

“Is the song okay?” He asks, now pulling back and bracing himself against the back of your couch with all of his strength. “It was picked specifically for you.”

You’re not entirely what he means by that, but you assume your friend must have told him what she thinks you’d like.

“It’s fine.” You say, glancing away from his direct eye contact and suddenly feeling like a love-struck puppy in the way you feel so incredibly fucking shy because of him.

Jake notes that you didn’t ask what he meant by the song, but he doesn’t push. He’s better at talking with his body anyway. So, he begins to focus. Opting to start slowly and work his way up, specifically to work you up.

He steps back and away from the couch, centering himself in your living room as he closes his eyes and stretches his arms up to loosen his body a little more. Most of his clients love to see the way his muscles move as he stretches, and he suspects you’re of the same mind.

This entire playlist is chosen for clients like you. The ones he intends to let see all of him if they so wish to. The music is slow, the bass is strong, and each beat runs through the body in a way that makes him shiver. He can move as if he’s fucking you even from across the room without so much as a touch, and he knows you’ll realize it.

He’s at his best too, when this sort of thing happens to him. The eye contact is more intense, his hips are more pointed for a reason other than payment, and arguably he feels he’s most attractive like this too. Considering the countless times he’s been paid to dance and expose himself to women he’d never even look at twice, it always hits differently when a client is just his type.

And when he looks at you through the start of his dance, you appear to be painfully stiff against that soft couch. He smirks, a small chuckle rumbling from his chest. If only you knew how lucky you are, knowing his clients would be on their knees for a chance to experience him like this.

The fact that it’s your first time doing this…he’d be smart to not pull this shit on you. He’s never tried this with a new client, after all but–fuck, just look at you.

Jake’s hips move on their own for the most part, he doesn’t have to think much when he’s getting into it. He easily dances along to the music for you, as if it’s second nature to him despite not yet removing any clothing. It’s the build-up for him now, and he thinks it may be that for you too. Of course, if he leaves your house tonight with a large tip in his pocket and a hard, untouched cock, that’s fine too, though not preferable.

You watch him the same way he watches you, after all, the electricity for this to play out is there. It’s rare that he can feel goosebumps raise on his skin by a mere look from a woman that looks far too powerful despite sitting there helpless. He’s making you helpless, the dim lighting of this room accentuating his body is making you helpless.

And truly, you find yourself understanding with each shadow on his stomach as to why he’s so favored in the groups of lonely women. Arguably, you’re shocked your best friend decided to share him.

As the song begins to fade, Jake readjusts himself. He watches you during the brief silence, a sort of fondness in his eyes making you wonder if he’s looking at you or if he does this for everyone. It feels intimate with the way his eyes slowly scan your body in the quiet room. As if the silence doesn’t need to be filled with anything other than eye contact.

For him though, a woman has never met his eye between songs. Typically, their eyes are glued to his chest, cock, hands, and neck– never his eyes. They’re muttering, moaning, or shouting for him to hurry up, that the clock is ticking and they want to see more. But not you. Even as the next song plays, your eyes stay focused on his until he looks away and starts closing the distance. He skews his body now, allowing you to see him in profile.

In some ways, you have him feeling a bit flustered in the way you keep meeting his eye despite his body making a show for you. He’s never had to act with his face more than he has with you, even as he drops to his knees during a particular part in the song, thrusting his hips forward in an attempt to make you imagine yourself bent over on the floor in front of him.

He glances to his side, and still you’re searching his face.

He, now, looks back down for a moment, finding himself trying to guide yours somewhere else. He knows his job is to be looked at, to be seen, but this is far too seen for his liking. Thankfully, your eyes do follow his, and you gasp at the way he moves.

Your mouth falls open, gripping the hem of your dress as you imagine exactly what he intended.

The fact that this is your first time, Jake realizes this is new ground for him too. Typically, he speaks with his body and it appears now, he needs to portray some form of sexuality to you with his eyes. Like the roles are switched, he has to do to you what you’re supposed to be doing to him.

This is new, but warranted. Easy, even, for him to do it because he does want you.

You watch him intently, not fully realizing that you’re barely watching him fuck the air in front of him. Yeah, you see that too, but your eyes always go back to his and now, his own gaze is meeting yours. His gaze is searching your body, watching you move in reaction. From the way your fingers grip at the clothes he’d like to see on the floor later, to the way you slightly rub your legs together in a way that is almost too easy to miss. This alone is enough for him as his eyes burn their gaze into you. Much like you’re supposed to be doing to him.

He’s supposed to be able to look at you and know exactly what you’re thinking. So be it, the least he can do is let you know what he’s thinking.

Jake’s dance is more intentional now when he leans back on his arms, throwing his head back but keeping his head turned towards you. He tries to show you specifically what he would do to you. That bulge in his pants is large and blatant as he thrusts forward and back to the music. You glance to it, offering the same jittery reactions of arousal.

And this is when he allows his blazer to slide off of his shoulders, reaching to unbutton that single clasp for it to go sliding to the floor. He continues his movements through it, watching your eyes move to his arms and the strength used to hold himself up, his skin more and more visible to you. You do try to keep eye contact but…well, the way his abs flex when he presses forward, going concave with each inhale of those sensual lips that constantly smirk at you.

It’s a shame, really, to know that the bulge in his pants will remain there, unseen.

With his blazer now pooled at his wrists, he regains his focus. He wants you so badly by this point that it’s driving him crazy how hard he’s having to work for it. You’re supposed to be feeling this way, not him. Even if he can see that his routine is causing a reaction from you, he’s practically masturbating himself against the inseam of his pants just to get you to say something to him.

Meaning, he needs to work harder. The current song is soon to be replaced with another, his favorite to dance to, his favorite to fuck to. And to be fair, by the time this playlist gets to this song on this specific playlist, usually his clients are already shaking under him. Not you though, you’re holding yourself back and he can fucking see it.

He ignores the fact that it’s technically not time for him to move on to his next set of dancing, mostly because he almost never has to get to this part, he leaves his blazer on your floor as he positions himself back on his knees, turning towards you this time and looking you straight in the eyes. The fact that he’s hard and horny is enough to amplify the way he’s looking at you, confidence so high that he’s fine with being seen in any way you want.

He’s slow when he does it, crawling a few steps closer to you. You watch the way his shoulders move in the light, his eyes rounded and cheeky, his hair falling in front of them with a charming movement. It’s not intentional when you rub your legs together at the image yet again, very much wanting to spread them the closer he gets to you.

You can’t help but think he looks smaller on his hands and knees, eyes looking up at you as if he could eat you whole. You do wonder if your face reads the same for him, with the nervousness hitting you off and on.

“You’re hot when you look down at me like that.” Jake mutters out of nowhere under the veil of his music, stopping in place in front of you, planting himself right at your feet. “I’d like to touch you, is that okay?”

Nevermind the fact that Jake has never actually had to ask to touch a client before, he really can’t help it at this point. His cock is aching in his pants and he isn’t quite ready to wait an entire playlist worth of songs just to put his clothes back on and leave the door with pain between his legs. He very much wants to fuck something right now, preferably someone.

You.

On the other hand, he’s pleased to see how fucking fast you accept his request. Yes, he can touch you. Fuck, you want him to touch you.

And the whole idea that this is just him doing his job is so far in the back of your mind right now that you almost forget that he probably does this to most of the women he’s paid to entertain. Quite frankly, you don’t give a fuck. You can pretend that he only does this for you, you can live in a fantasy just for a night.

Jake lends you a smile as the current song finally fades out, the silence back except this time, you’re not looking into his eyes when you nod.

He’s slow when he places his hand on your knees, rubbing up, up, up until he’s able to lift himself and hover over you. He intentionally pushes your dress up your thighs, solely because he wanted to see you rub them together in full, shameless view for him. He wants to know what his body does for you. What it does to you.

And he stands, hovering over you for a moment with his hands glued to your thighs before he stares down at them. You just do as he expected, you rub your legs together, you look anywhere but at his eyes now, your hands grip the couch beneath you.

“I’m going to get on top of you,” Jake says now, dipping his head into your line of sight and forcing eye contact again, now gripping the back of the couch rather than your thighs, Just as he did when all of this started. “Would you like that?”

“Do you do this for all of your clients?” You suddenly ask with a smaller voice than you gave him upon opening your door. You breathe in sharply when he moves instead of answering your question immediately.

He spreads his legs, propping himself right on your lap, facing towards you, letting you feel the warmth of his chest radiating near your face.

“What kind of answer are you looking for?” He laughs fondly, grabbing your hands and placing them on his chest. “You should touch me, by the way.” He foregoes his own rule with that one, not wanting to wait any longer for you to maybe ask him yourself. “Just pull away if you don’t want to.” He adds, guiding your hands over his chest and down his abdomen.

“You didn’t answer my question–” You interrupt him, feeling the warmth pool and drip into your panties. “It’s a yes or no question.”

He chuckles sweetly, stopping your hands at his abs and holding them there.

“No,” he admits, moving his focus to the music now that he’s got your hands on him. “I don’t do this for all of my clients.”

Jake isn’t sure why he does it, but now he can’t bring himself to look at you. The eye contact feels more intimate than it should with you asking him such a question and demanding an answer. Even as he swirls his hips, feeling his clothed cock rub up and against you every few seconds, it feels almost too intimate.

“Oh, yeah?” You nervously chuckle back, feeling his muscles move beneath your hand as he thrusts his hips forward.

“You know,” He mutters, guiding your hands a bit lower despite his own confusion at how much he’s enjoying this moment with you. You feel the cold metal of his belt buckle against your palm and you think he’s going to stop there, like maybe this is just something he does to amp up the show or something, but no. He drags your hand down further until you feel the warmth of his cock under his pants..

Your pulse quickens as your ears start to ring. Your eyes avoid where your hand is right now, taking in a deep breath and looking up at him with question. He’s not looking back though, instead, his head is dropped and he’s staring at his pathetic bulge against your hand. He’s dancing into it, against it.

“I’ve never gotten this hard over a client that doesn’t want me.” He admits shamefully in a pathetic little laugh, bucking against your palm again to the beat of the song. “I can’t tell if I’m doing my job well enough.”

You feel shocked at that. A client that doesn’t want him? Is he fucking insane?! Then again, you need to be honest with yourself sometimes. You’ve tried to appear as uninterested as possible until he started crawling to you. There is clear attraction, obvious needs swirling in the air right now. You force yourself now to look at your hand with the hefty bulge rubbing desperately against it. The sheer size of him is something entirely different from what you were expecting out of him. This feels forbidden.

Wrong, even, But goddamn. The man is masquerading his dance solely so he can fuck against your right now. Maybe you should show some interest.

“You’re doing well, Jake,” You finally mutter to him, the first compliment you’ve given since he got here.

“Yeah?’ He sighs out, relieved as his hips press harder into your palm. Arguably, he’s not even dancing at this point, just trying to get off. “How well?”

Yeah, he’s a little desperate at this point for you to do something on your own. It’s so out of character for him to do all of this just to…well, get off.

“Show me,” He raises his brows, now removing his hands from yours and running them up his chest. His hips continue to move on you, and he watches you as you hold your hand in place. “Come on, the buckle is right there–” he nearly pleads. “You don’t have to be shy.”

Like a book, the two of you read the other at this moment. You’re not a woman of many words and he seems to understand that now, taking your single compliment and running with it. You do as he says, unbuckling his belt and now, sliding your hands up his body to meet his.

“There you go,” He stresses through another relieved sigh. Leaving your hands where they are against his chest and sliding the belt from his loops on his own. He tosses the belt behind him, relishing in that lost look in your eye.

You clearly have no fucking idea what you’re doing, but you seem to like it. And god, does he fucking love it. Especially when he motions his head back down, forcing your hands back to where they belong and helping you unbutton his pants.

“Take it out, go on.” He says in a rush, “I’m asking you to do it.”

To be fair, you’re going to do it despite the nervousness in your gut. It’s been so long since you’ve touched a man, and even longer since you wanted to. You could half argue that you feel like you’re about to lose your virginity right now despite all those hook-ups in college. Still, you don’t even nod at him when you do it. Carefully tugging his pants down and watching the weight of his cock do the rest of the work for you.

His legs spread wider as he points it up at you, a lewd scene, one that feels both disgustingly sexy and very, very, straight forward. You’ve never been like this with any other person. Or rather, no one has ever blatantly shown themselves like this to you.

And still, Jake just looks at you. So much eye contact becoming more and more comfortable as he learns what you seem to like. He can feel the air in your apartment against the head of his cock, the cool air rushing past his shaft and causing him to shiver with a very quiet moan. He still only looks at you during this moment, wondering why you’ve let your hands fall to his thighs. Then he sees a new look in your eyes.

Are you…waiting to be told what to do?

For some reason, he keeps forgetting that you’ve never had a stripper in your home before, let alone been seduced by one. Honestly though, he assumed you’d catch on by the point his cock was out. This isn’t for show anymore, he wants you.

“Touch me?” He asks gently, reaching back down to your hands and urging you to grab his cock. “You don’t even have to move, I can do the rest–” He chokes out a groan mid-sentence as he feels you grasp him in your fist.

Such a silent woman beneath him. He can only read you in specific moments, this one not at all being one of them. You’re hesitant but willing, perhaps? You leave him questioning himself and his own motives, still wondering if that compliment you gave him was genuine or just part of your own little show.

Yet still, you’re gripping him tightly and allow him to focus his hopes. Dancing beautifully into that little circle your hand creates for him. The best part is that when or if he ever actually dances to this song, it’s when he’s blatantly fucking someone. So the movements come naturally, just as they would if your legs were buckling and your pussy was spread open on him. So, basically, this dance is nothing short of fucking your fist, pretending to keep up an act that he so wishes you’d see through.

He keeps his face intense, moving his shoulders and arms as if it’s easy for him to turn the tables and position you to where your legs are on his shoulders and he’s rubbing his cock against your, hopefully, soaked panties.

It’s a struggle though, to not moan out in desperation when you tighten your grip on him. He watches your pupils blow out, and can see the way you’d now probably ask him to do just that. To put it on you, to shove it in you. And so, he slows his hips a bit and catches his breath, staring down at you in wait.

“You’re really expecting me to get off all on my own?” He finally says in an exasperated breath to your stillness and silence. He really is, trying to act as though he can’t see the look in your eyes and how it’s changed since he started dancing. “Baby, don’t you want it?” He adds, now waiting to see if you’ll move your hand away from him.

You don’t though, to his surprise, you actually start moving your hand on him. You’re jerking him off, staring up at him like you want it, squeezing the head of his cock before dragging those pretty fingers back down.

Instantly his eyes roll back. “Fuck, that’s good,” He compliments your hand, shaking a bit and shivering at the fact that you really just did that. “Can I stop pretending that I’m still dancing for you now?”

You find it in yourself to chuckle now, nodding with a confident sort of smile. It hit you fairly quickly, actually, as you watched him chase his pleasure all by himself. He’s so hard, and so incredibly thick in your hand, you’d be stupid to say it didn’t turn you on. It’s that fact that you’ve barely said anything to him and he’s begging you to look at him, to watch him, to touch him. All of your nervousness slowly disappeared because it was being replaced with power.

Now, that, you’re used to. You know what power feels like in all aspects of the working world, but never at home. Never when sex is involved. You’re always expected to play the part of a desperate woman in need of love, and that’s just not you. No, you’re a powerful woman with nerves that could kill you. And the way Jake parallels your working world, it’s almost too perfect. You’re used to men being beneath you, begging for your money, giving you all of their attention, apologizing for normal human errors.

Jake isn’t exactly begging you for money, but he’s still begging for your hands.

“No.” You finally say, relishing in the shock on Jake’s face. “Keep dancing, it’s what you’re being paid to do.”

His eyes fall a bit now as he nods his head. You almost feel his cock falter at the same time at your response, but you move your hand a bit faster. You grip a bit tighter, urging him to do whatever it is that’s on his mind. You want to see if he will actually do as he’s told now, considering you’re the one with the money to bring him back here.

It’s endearing how he does his best, and honestly, his best probably far surpasses some of the most notable dancers on the market if you had any idea of how they were. It’s just a bit hard to continue this act for him when you’re gripping his cock in such a beautiful way.

“You’re–” He pauses to hold in a moan, feeling the way you drag your hand in time with his dance. “You’re not going to ask me to touch you?” He finally adds, meeker than before, far less confidence.

In fact, he’s hiding his face.

You smile in response, looking up at him with dark and wide pupils as you swallow each movement his body makes for you. Your ears are still ringing, unable to comprehend the music blasting in your sound system. Your focus is solely on him, your hands are on him, your confidence is because of him.

The answer to that question should be a given, after all, shouldn’t he be well aware considering this little stunt he pulled that actions truly speak louder than words?

“No wonder she liked you so much.” You start, now loosening your grip on him just to see the way his hips frantically chase the warmth of your palm.

“Wait–” He asks slightly out of breath, cheeks flushed and bashful. “You really thought, I let her get me off like this?”

It almost pisses him off that you’d say that to him, then again, it’s not like you knew that this specific instance is rare and reserved for very few clients.

“You couldn’t even look at me properly thirty minutes ago, now you think you can make assumptions?” He argues, pushing away from you.

Your response is skewing an eyebrow at him, watching him fight for control as he pulls his hips back and shuffles off of you and onto his feet. You glance down at his cock and the way it stands painfully erect, twitching at the sudden lack of friction.

“Is it wrong to assume when you very clearly want me to make you cum?”

He stills himself, a blank expression turning to that of a devilish smile, eyes narrowing at you as he leans over you.

“Are you suggesting that you’ll get me off?”

You smile, spreading your legs a bit and feeling the stickiness drip through your panties now.

“She did tell me that some clients have gotten special treatment from you,” You mock him slightly, watching his eyes glue themselves to your thighs. You make a show to spread your legs a bit for him. “I also know that she was no such client.”

A small moment of silence as he devours you with his eyes, seemingly interested in the attitude you have towards him now.

“I also didn’t imagine your clients would be the ones getting you off.”

Honestly, it’s like he hit the fucking jackpot with you. Challenging him, mocking him with his cock out in front of you. If you so much as wiggled your cunt in front of him, he would instantly be back on his knees, letting you soak his face in whatever way you please.

“Normally they’d be jumping at the chance, you though–” Jake very nearly growls at you with a deepened voice. “You look like you’re the one who needs to get off, if anything to get that snarky grin off your face.”

“Go on then, dance.”

It’s almost like a game now, he feels. You know he’s trying to seduce you and it seems you’re enjoying the fact that you haven’t let him yet. He knows that you intend to let him, so yeah, fuck yeah, he’s going to play along.

He raises a brow at you as he steps back once more, trying to ignore the fact that his cock is aching to be touched again. You still want your show? Good. He’ll fucking give you a show.

Jake does as he’s told, finally kicking his pants off in full and keeping his eyes on you the entire time. He watches the way your legs spread when he rubs his hands down his naked chest, straight down to his cock where he only briefly tugs at himself. He can almost see under your dress as you continue to spread your legs more and more, but the lighting is far too dim to see what his act is doing to you just yet.

When he saunters behind you, dipping his head by your neck and whispering the dirtiest part of the song into your ear, he can see your sharp intake of air, and he watches the way your breasts move with each breath he forces out of you, and the way your nipples perk through the fabric.

So, he stays here behind you with his hips pressed to the back of your couch, ghosting his hands over your neck, moving down your arms, and then to your chest. He doesn’t touch, because you still haven't asked yet, but he knows hovering alone is enough. It’s like he can feel the electricity beneath his fingers somehow reaching your skin.

And he continues to sing against your ear, leaning further forward to plant his hands on your thighs again, mostly because he’s already been given permission to touch you there.

“More,” He gently demands between lyrics. “Spread them all the way.”

Jake watches for a moment from behind you, pressing his cock against the back of the couch the moment he sees your legs stretch open, your dress hiking up past your waist, enough now that he can at least see a glimpse of the skin closest to your pussy.

“Ask me to touch you.” He pleads against your ear, trailing his fingers up your thighs enough to where he would need you to tell him to stop otherwise. “Just tell me you want it.”

It’s silent save for the music playing, and his cock is aching so badly by this point that each time he rubs against the couch he’s almost breaking down to fucking beg you to let him touch you. That alone could make him cum, but god, you’re so good at playing hard to get even if it’s blatantly obvious that he’s already got you.

You’re fucking playing with him, and he can’t decide if he loves it or hates it.

Your silence is so damning to his dripping cock, and his skin feels so hot right now that he’s almost forgotten that he was paid to be doing anything that’s not this.

“No.” You playfully respond, dangling yourself just out of reach. You breathe in deep though, knowing you can’t keep denying him for much longer with the way his hands are rubbing at you. “I like it better when you’re the one asking for it.” You lean your head back and rest it against the cushions of the couch, and he instantly moves from your neck to look down at you.

Oh.

“Cute.” He says, having no issue at all to be the one to ask, beg, plead, or cry. Whatever it takes to get a feel of you at this point. It’s just…new to him.

Another long moment of eye contact has him trailing his hands higher than before, almost to the point that there’s no skin on your thighs to touch that doesn’t involve your panty line.

“May I?” He asks, leaning down a bit closer so that his face is mere inches from yours. “Will you take my fingers?”

You could mistake this distance as something that should not be crossed between the two of you. Barely hearing his question at this moment, the only thing you want to do is to kiss him, and it hit you so fucking fast that you almost forgot he’s doing anything you ask of him.

“Come again?” You smile, blinking up at him.

He breathes in, seemingly frustrated.

“My fingers. Take them.” He says rather than asking this time, already moving his hands to trace up your panties and feeling the wetness seep through onto his fingertips. “You’re already dripping–baby,” He stops to moan at it, amazed by how fucking soaked you are. “I can imagine they’d slide right in.”

Typically, you wouldn’t allow anyone to call you that. “Baby.” but coming from his mouth, it sounds fitting. It sounds seductive, sexy. It has your stomach in knots, actually, your hips bouncing up just slightly at his words with the pet name attached. Finally, you let him. Finally, you grind yourself against his fingers.

“I’ll make you feel so good–” He groans at your movements, loving how desperate you suddenly appear despite pretending you weren’t going to work for your own pleasure. He continues to trace his fingers up and down just to feel the mess of you, the one that he created, and the one that he intends to make messier.

“Moving your hips isn’t the answer though, baby.”

You swear he can read your mind, there’s no fucking way he would say it like that without knowing how you just internally admitted to liking it.

“Yes,” You let out shortly, darting your eyes away from him. “I’ll take them.”

That breathy laugh he releases sounds sweet, almost dripping like syrup when he lays his head beside your neck. His soft singing picks back up as he listens to you now more than the music, his fingers continuously ghosting where he promised to put them, not yet moving your panties.

Paired with it, his abdomen stays tense as he humps against your couch, his muscles locking up at the pleasure running through him in this position. Your hips lightly chase his fingers, up when his fingers move down, and he can’t help the shy smile that spreads across his lips. It’s one you don’t see, but the constant shift in your personality is something that keeps him on edge. Keeps him wanting more, to know more, to see and feel more of you.

And when he finally reaches around you with his other hand, pulling your panties to the side and exposing your pussy, he watches you take over for him and push them down instead, offering far more than he anticipated. He watches as you kick them off your ankles almost elegantly, as if you could do this job of dancing better than he can.

“Eager?” He teases, knowing you won’t respond to that. And you don’t. It pleases him to know that at least by now, he can kind of read you. Yet, still, there’s nothing more at this moment that would please him more than getting to see you in full. To wander back around this couch and get a real good, close up look at what he’s doing to you.

“You’re so wet right now.” He groans, knowing that you were soaked before and only hoping you’re dripping more and more for him now. His cock is weeping as much as he’d like for you to be, chasing any amount of friction he could have. And he can see his fingers slip and slide through your slick into places he wasn’t even attempting to touch just yet solely because of how wet you are.

“You held out for so long,” He coos now with a soft breath against your neck, feeling your cheek nuzzle against his flexing arm. “Look at that,” Two of his fingers tease at your hole before– “they slipped right in.”

Your breathing is labored by this point, feeling him play with you as if he has all the time in the world to fuck with your head. Which is…nice. No rushing despite the time limit on his session, proving time and time again that you’re getting more than others get from him. Lucky you, that you can moan out without shame for him.

And you do, grabbing his hand and practically fucking yourself with his fingers. That takes him by surprise as the warmth and sheer tightness envelopes his digits. You are excruciatingly sexy to him, he doesn’t even attempt to stop you.

In fact, he doesn’t even hold back now, meeting each chase of your hips with the force of his fingers plunging into you deeply, with full intention. He scissors them open, feeling your hole stretch around them beautifully enough to fit in a third. And god, you’re so fucking wet. He can hear the slapping of his soaked fingers inside of you pushing more and more of that arousal out.

He moans blatantly against your ear now, easing you into talking back to you.

“Bet you could take cock so well–” He murmurs, feeling you shiver against his grasp. “How long has it been? Hm?”

He’s talking to you, yes, but hyping himself up at the same time. The scent of your hair forcing a slight obsession with you in his mind. The way you feel, look, smell, move when you’re just inches from him like this. He knows you won’t respond to a goddamn thing he says too, but it doesn’t matter too much to him at this point. Because now, you’re whimpering.

Such a confident, well respected woman…fucking whimpering.

“What was that?” He asks playfully, running his other hand up your body until he gets to your neck. “Has it been that long?”

And for the first time, you were going to answer. For the first time, he doesn’t leave room for you to answer. Instead, you feel his palm resting flush against your neck, now pressing in and practically holding you down by the neck as he fucks his fingers into you faster.

Painfully faster.

“Cry for me again,” He encourages you, wincing as his own hips frantically chase the back of your couch. “You’re allowed, come on, do it again.”

And because he’s working for it, because he’s doing so fucking well, you let out another choked moan. His hand straining your neck so tightly that any sound coming out sounds strained and desperate, even the sound of yourself right now ignites a fire inside of you. You can feel that grasp tighten each time his fingers fuck into you with a painful jab, his palm placed so perfectly that you can feel your clit being rubbed each time he pulls his hand back.

It’s…overwhelming.

“Yes, fuck- again.” He groans, bucking his hips forward and frantically lifting his head from your shoulder, all so he can look down at you. He’s heard you, now he wants to fucking see how desperate you are when you cry out.

When you open your eyes again, wincing every few seconds at both the pleasure and pain of his desperate hands, all you can see is his face. All you can feel are those same long fingers threatening more and more cries from your chest. He’s hitting spots inside of you that haven't been touched in a long time. Feeling it now almost burns, even with the cold metal of that single ring on his finger against your neck.

And when he tightens that hand on your neck once more, not only do you cry out, but he matches you with his own stuttered gasp. You strain to keep your eyes on him through this moment, watching the way his teeth appear to scrape at his bottom lip when the sound of you envelopes his ears. So, you do it again, and again, and again.

His fingers only continue their aggressive assault inside of you, his palms still hitting your clit, and that other hand around your throat…honestly? You could fucking sing songs to him at this moment if he so wished it.

“You’re shaking.” He comments, eyes flicking to your body. “Can you even breathe right now?”

His smile looks so fucking mean, knowing full well that you can’t breathe and only tightening his hand harder against your throat. Nevermind the fact that you never discussed this type of thing with him, fucking wasn’t even in the agenda. But now? Fuck it. You do like it. Maybe you even love it. The way you’re moaning for him is all either of you need to know.

This time though, when you moan out and it’s sounding particularly raspy, he releases his hand from your throat and instantly leans down to your lips. He’s a bit shocked that you immediately strain your neck to kiss him. What he was going to do was degrade you. Now though, he’s just tasting the way you’re so desperate to kiss him. As if you’re wanting this to be real, to be intimate.

Arguably, your idea was better than his own because now he can’t bring himself to degrade you. In fact, he was stupid to even consider such a fucking thing. Despite never kissing his clients, things with you have already lasted far longer than he’d normally allow. Things have already surpassed the intimacy level he allows too, even with the very few lucky women who get to touch him. He’s never asked for it, and he’s never gotten this much of his own pleasure out of finger fucking them. Not once has he ever fucked himself against a couch to hold himself back for a woman either.

Maybe just this once, he can want it to be real too. Even if he leaves with a pocket full of cash, the fantasy right now is enough for him to accept it as is. If you want him to kiss you, he will fucking kiss you.

His pupils grow as his eyes close, slowing his fingers unintentionally as he focuses on your lips and tongue. Even his body against your couch relaxes and his hips slow to that of a sensual thrust forward, one that offers a long and painful drag against his already raw and reddened cock. You kiss him back better than he’s even been kissed before, and falling into it was terrifyingly easy.

His brain nearly short circuits at the softness of it, allowing his hands to move on their own accord, cupping your jaw with one hand and emptying your pussy to rub your clit with the other. He’s intentionally deepening the kiss far past his own comfort level.

But he is comfortable, and that’s precisely what’s uncomfortable about it.

“You can take it–” Jake mutters between kisses, more focused on your lips than the words he spilling to you. “You want more, right?” He continues, only now pulling back in a breath and waiting for you to adjust your eyes on his.

Immediately, when you open your eyes they widen at him. Goddamn, was he this sexy before? Did he even look this into you when he was on your lap fucking your fist? Out of all of his begging, this…this right here. Are you really about to fuck a stripper? The man you were so against meeting just this morning? The man who has $600 in his bank account from your lovely, fucking adored and beautiful best friend?

The man that you’re probably going to give the entirety of the contents in your purse to the moment he packs up and moves on as if this never happened?

Yes.

“I want more–” You say to him, blinking at his pretty eyes and intentionally rubbing your clit against his fingers, mostly because it appears as if he’s stopped functioning all together.

And before you can even blink, his fingers are pulled away and his presence is gone. You lift your head to watch him, cock still erect and heavy against his thigh as he goes directly to his bag. As if he knew it was going to happen, as if this was his plan before he even met you, he pulls out a condom and slips it on without so much as a sigh of relief.

After all, he does have to take precautions to be fucking an absolute stranger like this.

“Oh.” You huff in disappointment, not entirely meaning for him to hear it.

He raises his eyes to you as he pulls at the end of the condom, offering plenty of space for whatever release he intends to have soon, but his eyes don’t seem concerned nor bothered.

“What? You want it raw?” He asks playfully, wiggling his eyebrows briefly before making his way back to you. “That’ll require a bit more discussion, you know.”

Discussion that neither of you are willing to have solely because your pussy is throbbing and his cock appears to be more pathetic than it already was being strangled in that thin layer of latex. And without another word, allowing both of you to put that to rest for now, he’s right back over you, lifting your dress up and off of you.

“Fuck.” He breathes out as your tits falls from their perfect place within the dress. The sopping wet couch beneath you only soaking up more of your slick as his words force more out of you. God, you feel so wanted.

You keep your arms lifted to help him ease the dress entirely off of you, leaving you bare beneath him as he instantly goes to grab both tits, pressing them together before flicking both nipples with the tips of his fingers.

Your body jolts at the sensation, feeling it run through you and swell your clit more than it already was. The ache is worse, your hole is pulsing, yearning, wanting to be filled. Still though, he takes his precious expensive time, leaning down and sucking one erect nub into his mouth and flicking it all the same with his tongue.

“Right here?” He mouths from around your tit, eyes closed and tongue still focused elsewhere. “You want to be fucked here?” He mumbles again, realizing that his question will likely go unanswered. It’s very likely that he is going to fuck you right here, on your living room couch. Asking you such a thing was stupid, borderline cringe-worthy.

To his surprise though, you lend him a small “no.” as you lace your fingers in his hair, pushing his lips to your other nipple just to feel the warmth of his tongue.

“No?” He questions, blinking up at you from your chest before biting gently around the sensitive bud against his mouth. “Where then?”

To his dismay, your smile is still beautiful but the way you close your legs and sit yourself up from the slouched, relaxed position you were in disappoints him. Mostly because he’s now forced to stand up too, and even more so because he has to keep his head dipped in order to keep his mouth on that perfect nipple of yours.

His disappointment fades as you hold his head there, feeling your legs almost buckle against him when he moans around it, sending vibrations through your chest. You remain gentle though, wobbling on your legs and shuffling forward, allowing him to continue his antics. Slowly but surely, you turn him around and back him up against the couch.

Only now, when you push him back and his teeth graze your sensitive nub do you realize that he’s so, so much needier than you expected. Even with his begging, his little disappointed sound didn’t go unnoticed. His brows are still furrowed now, not even paying attention to the fact that you’ve just shoved him down so that you can be the one straddling him. It’s cute, actually. Noticing how he was so intimidating when he came into your house, walking with confidence, dancing with intention, finger fucking you and choking you as if he had a right to do it…only to now look at him and the way he’s melting.

The way he’s needy, borderline puppy-like to be near you.

His eyebrows shoot up from that little face of disappointment though, when you pull yourself from his mouth and instead plant yourself right on his lap, letting your pussy lips envelope the underside of his cock as you grind up immediately.

It’s the first slippery touch his cock has felt all night and honestly? He’s been on edge this entire time. You grind so fucking beautifully, and it’s a first for him to realize that he’s entirely speechless.

You’ve rendered him incapable of speaking.

“You’re cute, I don’t think you realize that.” You comment, gliding against his cock and watching his hands reach out to grip your waist, “Really cute.”

He doesn’t falter at your compliments, instead he just melts into it even more. His cheeks are permanently blushed as he leans forward to try and get your tits in his face again, and all you can do is grip his hair and let him. It’s been a long time since you’ve felt the head of a cock bumping your clit, and you’d never forgive yourself for not letting yourself have this kind of fun more often.

And Jake just gets whinier. His cock pulses and twitches to be inside of you all the while despite the discomfort of that latex layer likely needing to be replaced already. Still, his hands keep moving your waist, pushing and pulling you faster against him until– ah.

You angle yourself perfectly when he slides your upwards again. All you had to do was perk your ass out and wait for him to push you back down. Finally, he slides in without fully realizing that’s what was going to happen, and goddamn the sound he makes, fuck.

“Mmfuck,” He winces, digging his nails into your hips at the speed of which he bottomed out. The breath is knocked out of him and all you can do is stare down. Look at him now, so docile and sweet like he wasn’t fucking your livingroom floor prior to this.

And the grip of you on him, so strong. The slide was so easy, so fast, that he genuinely is seeing stars at how good you feel wrapped around him. The velvet walls inside of you pulsing, pushing and squeezing his cock all over. He can’t help the sounds he makes, grunting and feeling that grip you have in his hair intensify his pleasure.

Both of you now let out a long winded breathy groan at the sensation of your body adjusting to his, in all fairness, you had to grip onto something and his hair just so happened to be the best thing at the moment. He seems to love it though, so when you finally regain your senses of being absolutely fucking full, you pull at it again, tilting his head back so that you can see the expanse of his neck and the way it moves when he swallows.

“Bounce.” He croaks out at you, eyes glistening with pure fucking hope that you will.

And, well…when you feel his length pulse in place inside of you, you do exactly as he asked. You bounce, taking his full, thick cock each and every time. Not allowing a single inch of it to be neglected. All he can do in response is squint, trying to keep his eyes open through each breathy groan of praise and encouragement. He does lose himself entirely to the feeling of euphoria and the pain of how harshly you keep his head tilted back.

He really didn’t think you could get any sexier, honestly, and as far as he’s concerned…if he moves right now he’s going to cum. So, he doesn’t. Instead, he just lazily smiles at you and lets his eyes finally close so that he can fall right back into the state of seeing nothing but stars.

Frustrated, yet incredibly turned on by the way you’ve just completely lost him, you bounce harder, then you sit flush against him, twisting and swirling your hips. Grinding forward back, counting how he moans each time you do something that feels particularly sensitive for him. And you hang onto that, repeating those actions, lifting your ass and sliding back down. Again and again, until your legs shake and your fingers threaten to pull his hair too hard.

“Look at you now,” You half-chuckle out of breath, hearing the wet slaps of skin on skin paired with his blatant and sensual moans drowning out the playlist that has been long forgotten. “You can’t even move.”

All he does is nod his head, that same lazy and cocky smile appears as if to insinuate that you’re damn fucking right he can’t. Like he’s proud of it. And you’re not going to ignore the fact that his hands are still on your waist either, gripping onto you so tightly that you fear he could draw blood if you move the wrong way.

“Keep going, baby–” He somehow manages to say to you. “Don’t stop.”

There it is. This entire time he’s been begging to fuck you, and now he’s finally begging you to fuck him. His voice still sounds like honey, with that impressively hard cock inside of you pulsing so constantly that you could probably feel him in your stomach if you were to press against it.

“Mhm,” You answer him, promising that you won’t stop through just a half-moan and a long winded intake of air. Honestly? At this very moment, you feel like you’re sitting on a throne. Jake, obviously, being said throne but whatever. The fucking power he’s making you feel is nothing short of alluring.

And now, as that power goes to your head, you opt to grind rather than bounce for him now. Your hips aren’t as erratic, yet still he tenses up for you, forcing his cock to somehow feel even harder as you fuck it into yourself through lazy drags of your clit against his pelvis.

If you keep going like this, you could cum in an instant. But before you can even finish that thought, you look down at him on instinct due to his sudden silence.

His eyes are squeezed shut tightly, and his mouth is open in a silent moan. You can see that he’s not breathing, seemingly holding his breath even after you release his hair. His head lolls back with that same expression, and that’s when you feel his fingernails dig.

“Oh,” You moan, now resuming your grinding much harder now, making a point to bump your clit repeatedly against him. “Fuck, are you cumming right now?”

Still he doesn’t respond, you can only feel his hips stutter under you despite trying to remain entirely still and stiff for you. You know that now is when you need to be chasing, because you’ll be damned if you’re not going to cum with him inside of you.

You want to be full like this, you want to squeeze him, to play with his sensitive cock even if it starts to soften. He’s too pretty, too fucking pretty when he whimpers. And so, you continue grinding, up until you’re on the brink of your orgasm but not quite there yet. To the point his cock is only half in you with the way you’re angling your clit against him, chasing your own high so aggressively that you barely feel his fingers tightening on you again.

Jake shoots his head back up, eyes opening as the sensitivity hits him quicker than he would have liked, but you don’t relent. The pain is intense from how hard you’re riding him, but he can see how close you are, the image alone compliments that sensitivity he’s feeling right now.

He seethes out painful praises to you as your desperate cunt finally reaches orgasm, squeezing against his softening length so tightly that he can’t help but whimper with you. Still, he studies your face through his own winces, shuddering at the way you close your legs around him despite them being forced to stay open in this position. You try to curl into the pleasure, as if you wish you could disappear completely alongside it.

And god, the way you grip at his arms for leverage as you shake through it. Dare he say…he’s fond of you. It still hurts, but it kind of hurts more when he knows it’s over. Mostly because it feels like he’s been in this room with you for days, knowing that’s not true. Surely he’s stayed longer than your allotted time with him, but you seemed to have given him something worth staying for at least.

When you slump over him, he almost wants to cry from how fucking sensitive he is right now. Thankfully, you seem sensitive too as you wince before he does, remaining as gentle as you can when you reach down to the base of his cock and hold the condom, allowing him to slide out of you at his own pace.

And then, the playlist comes to an abrupt end at just the wrong moment, because it forces Jake to realize that he hadn’t stayed at all over his paid time frame. Now, all he can hear is the way his breath is entirely too uneven compared to any of his sessions with prior clients like this. He’s breathing much too fondly for you, or rather, not breathing well because of you. He can’t just…go home can he?

“You okay?” You ask to the slight panicked look on his face, seeing how he stares straight up at the ceiling, not blinking, no readable expression. “Jake?”

He shakes himself out of it, eyes slowly moving and blinking to look at you.

“That–” He tries to talk, genuinely, he does. “Um…”

The change in atmosphere almost freaks you out. Isn’t this what he wanted? You saw the way he lost himself there briefly though, you can admit. None of this was even that rough or kinky, so you’re a bit confused as to why he’s acting like this.

Maybe you even feel a bit guilty. Like you’re the problem. So, you silence yourself and lift onto weak legs to stumble and find your dress. You throw it on quickly, hiding your shame that he so wanted to see just fifteen minutes ago. Then, you head for your purse and grab every single bill you have folded neatly inside.

Just like that, you place the money in his shaking hand and can’t bare to look at him.

“Wha-” He starts, licking his dried lips and sitting up a bit too quickly. “Why are you giving me so much?”

“It’s your tip.” You try to say casually as you clear your throat. “You can shower too, if you’d like.”

Jake holds his breath, hoping you don’t genuinely think he did all of that for the money. He was already paid to be here, the whole…you know, fucking thing, was his doing. What happened was because he wanted it, and…he still does. Are you truly just strictly back to business like this? You literally just handed him his rent for the month and then some, it kind of amazes him. The audacity. As if he’s never been handed handsome sums of cash from drunken lonely women. You aren’t a woman who needs him, and yet you pay like you did.

“Shower with me?” He forces himself to ask, because he knows he’ll regret it if he doesn’t. After all, this tip feels like a rejection of what just happened. Hush money, even.

He doesn’t know what just crept into this room through the fucking silence, but he doesn’t like it. And it seems you don’t either, because you instantly comfort him with a smile and a step forward.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

He didn’t intend to spend the night, free of charge no less, but he did. All of that including some embarrassing talk involving the seriousness of how this is not normal for him.

Surprisingly, you believe him.

After the shower, the mood had shifted into something that felt natural and less rehearsed. He wasn’t just some stripper you could call over with a downpayment of $600, he was Jake, a man trying to make ends meet in a city far too expensive even for you if you’re being honest.

Jake, a man wanted by several women. You, on the other hand, feel the need to mend your lonely and stone-cold heart with him, however much that may cost. Not to fall in love, or to fill any type of voice. If anything, you want to be taken care of in specific ways, and you’d like to take care of him in turn.

So, when he grimaced at your joke, saying that he would practically be your sugar baby and that you’d run off all of his other business out of need to continuously be fucked by him and him alone, you almost stopped pressing the matter.

Because you would run off all his clients solely for keeping him too busy with you to go to them. You would be paying him every time, making damn sure he’s well taken care of and financially stable.

Jake did notice how you looked disappointed, quickly backtracking his grimace.

“Wait, you’re serious?”

You nod shyly, blinking at him.

“It’s not like we have to sleep together every time, you won’t even have to dance for me anymore.” You argue, knowing that’s at least a half-lie. “All I ask is that you don’t fuck your other clients if you’re still seeing me, and intending to..you know–”

Jake nods happily, without question even.

“So, what happens if I’m horny and you’re not available then?”

You narrow your eyes at him.

“Jerk off like a normal person?”

Fair enough.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

man, i forgot how lame this fic is but yknow what? good for me. jake is so fuckin’ fine fr I DON’T EVEN CAREEEEEEEEEEE. pls reblog and leave feedback on my work :D

#enhypen smut #sim jaeyun smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enhypen hard hours

3K notes · View notes

intoanotherworld23 · 3 months ago

Text

His Delicate Flower Of Rome

Summary: when Lucius found out you were Marcus Acacius’s daughter he knew he had to have you, and when the opportunity was right he wasn’t holding back

Warnings: explicit content, mature themes, smut, unprotected sex, slightly dom Lucius, submissive reader, smidge of spanking

A/N: hello my lovelies! I was genuinely surprised that there isn’t more fics of Paul or Lucius out there so I wanted to write something for him, and hope everyone likes it and share your thoughts on if I should keep writing for him! If you wish to be added to a tag list please let me know! Or if you have any requests do not hesitate to submit it to my inbox! Don’t forget to reblog and comment! Thank you! XOXO

Hall Of Hunks

Tag list for everything: @iam-laiya @rosie-posie08 @madzleigh01 @alwaysclassyeagle @mytbel0st @shanimallina87 @marvelstarker-mha98 @powellssugarbaby @lora21 @kmc1989

"That's it flower, that's a good woman." Soft praises echoing in your ear as you sank down on Lucius's erect length. His calloused hands caressing your skin so tenderly. "Are you feeling all of me?"

"Mhm." Struggling to find the right words as you concentrated more on adjusting around his cock. Twisting your face in an unusual manner he couldn't resist as he leaned forward to place light kisses on your heated cheeks and temple.

"Do the gods hold your tongue? Can you not speak?" Keeping his voice deep and low as his words teased you.

"Lucius please." Whimpering pathetically as you continued to grind your hips back and forth. Lucius chuckling at how eager and desperate you were for him.

"Do you enjoy fucking gladiators? Does that moisten your thighs? Does your father know what a whore you are?" He taunted you as you bit your bottom lip realizing that his words held more truth than you wanted. Soon as Lucius found out you were Marcus Acacius's daughter he wasted no time in seducing you. "I've been longing to feel this cunt around me for too long."

He loved the feeling of your skin touching his. The way your body had molded into his so perfectly. A fierce bloodthirsty champion of the arena was holding you like a delicate flower. Lucius was enjoying this way more than he intended, and was already planning on never letting you go.

"Gods you are tight." Large hands holding the fat flesh of your thighs his thumb stroking your skin soothingly. Feeling so warm and incredibly deep. "You have not been fucked the way you should be."

Nodding your head in agreement unable to speak as you wrapped your hands around his thick neck. Beginning to tremble as you moved your legs to raise yourself better. Lucious guiding your hips now as he looked down to where you two were connected.

"Take it easy I wouldn't want you to hurt yourself." Noticing how aggressively you were bouncing on his cock. Even as his hands swatted your backside in warning you still continued to ignore him. So lost in the clouds you didn't want to come down.

"I can do it Lucius." Assuring him with such innocent eyes he couldn't help but smirk at how badly you wanted this. "Gods you are so big."

"Fuck." He grunts before pulling your body on top of his as he laid along the bed. He was surprised how soft it was considering he had been sleeping on stone for so long.

Gasping as he lifted his knees and started to pound into your cunt with absolutely no mercy giving you exactly what you wanted. His lips warm and desperate as they peppered kisses along your neck and shoulder. His hands keeping a firm grip on your ass using it as leverage.

"Oh gods." Crying out as he growled in your ear with such animosity it had a shiver running down your spine.

"The gods will never make you feel like this." Hissing into your ear and in just mere seconds tears are glistening in your eyes with such intensity. "Only my cock can bring you to such pleasure."

"Yes, my champion." We're all the words Lucius needed to hear before he suddenly flipped you on your back his cock never slipping from inside you. Grabbing your legs and placing them on his shoulders, as he got right back into the same rhythm.

Drilling into your sweet spot as he leaned forward slightly his face right above yours. Lucius was oozing with confidence in everything that he did. Whether it was in the colosseum or the bedroom. Bit surprised that a man like him would want anything to do with the generals daughter.

"I'm close." Informing him as your body started to shake a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach. Head tossed back in complete ecstasy as you couldn't hold back anymore.

"Let go I am right here." Cooing into your ear like he was revealing his secrets. His deep and seductive tone was sending you right over the edge.

"Oh gods." Crying out as your orgasm was swiftly approaching still sensitive from your previous release by his tongue. Lucius looking down at your remarkable expression unable to look anywhere else. Loving that he was the one in control, and held all this power in your pleasure. It made him feel like a god.

Your senses were extremely heightened, and feeling overwhelmed and vulnerable. Not sure how much longer you could hold on. Lucius could sense this, and he knew what would help relieve you.

"Let me see those beautiful eyes." He instructed to which you immediately followed not seeing that he was reaching a hand down between your bodies to your puffy clit. Rubbing rapid circles making you scream hands scratching along his back surely leaving marks.

Your ribcage rising and falling with each quick breath. Hands falling down to your side feeling loose and numb. Stomach trembling from the resounding orgasm you just experienced. Your battered cunt was so sore from being stretched and abused. Feeling his hands gently caressing your trembling thighs as he stayed still inside of you.

“The gods have surely blessed me on this night.” Speaking trying to catch his breath as he smiled down at you.

“Seems the gods bless you every night.” Moving from underneath him his cock slipping out as he laid next to you. The only sound you could hear was the water fountain outside of your room, and the crackles from the fireplace. Expecting Lucius to gather himself, and never speak to you again.

“Take comfort in my arms, and I will hold you while you sleep.” Pulling your body against his before you could say anything. The unexpected gesture made you feel something that you’ve never felt before. “Sleep my delicate flower.”

#paul mescal imagines #paul mescal smut #Paul mescal #Paul mescal blurb #Paul mescal x reader #lucius verus #Lucius verus smut #Lucius verus x reader #Lucius verus blurb #Lucius verus imagines #Paul mescal fic #Paul mescal fanfiction #Lucius verus fanfiction #gladiator ii smut #gladiator II #gladiator 2 #gladiator

2K notes · View notes

luvsupa · 8 months ago

Text

“SHALL WE RESUME, MY LADY?”

tags: heianera!sukuna, trueform!sukuna x fem!reader, kissing, servants are bullies :(, BLOOD + KILLING, smut-ish (?), ANGST, readers called little one, my lady, my queen, sukuna lovessss reader but doesn’t wanna show it.

w.c: 1.8k

a/n:ITS BEEN LONG SINCE I WROTE PART 3 FOR SUKUNAAA, so pls read (part 1 + part 2) to understand this :p (or don’t 😔)

-part 1 was my first ever story so pls don’t mind the terrible writing 🤕

+ likes and reblogs are appreciative!!

for weeks now, since your intimate encounter with sukuna in his chambers, his words have echoed relentlessly in your mind:

“you belong to me, mind, body, and soul.”

unable to shake his haunting assertion, you find yourself lost in a fog during your duties, drawing the king’s scorn for your clumsiness—pathetic, he silently judges.

you’ve been desperately trying to avoid sukuna, feeling his ominous presence lurking near the servants’ quarters, dangerously close to your room. each night, you pretend to be asleep, hoping he won’t enter.

uraume and the other servants and concubines have noticed your distraction, their whispers and spiteful glances intensifying your growing distress.

just as you’re lost in your thoughts, walking towards the grand kitchen, you feel yourself being harshly pushed—nearly losing your balance. you turn to face the two brunettes who always accompany sukuna in his chambers.

“look at her,” one sneers, her voice dripping with contempt. “she looks even more pitiful than usual. you’d think she’d try harder, especially with tomorrow’s annual gift-giving ceremony.”

your heart drops, and you feel the blood drain from your face as the realization hits you—you had completely forgotten about it. shit.

the other brunette catches your expression and smirks, leaning closer.

“oh, you did not know?” she mocks, her eyes glinting with malicious pleasure. “did you truly forget? lost in your own little world? pathetic. do not think sukuna-sama has not noticed your incompetence. if i were you, i would be prepared to face his wrath tomorrow.”

before you can respond, the brunettes walk away, laughing cruelly amongst themselves. fear grips you as you stand there, contemplating the consequences of your forgetfulness. this time, he might seek to end my life.

sukuna spared your life once before, but now? you’ve truly done it.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

morning arrives, finding you sleepless and anxious, having spent the night wrestling with decisions on what gift would appease the king of curses. regret gnaws at you—you could have been better prepared.

if only you had listened to uraume’s instructions, you wouldn’t be scrambling now to please sukuna.

a loud groan escapes you, not just from lacking a suitable offering but from the impending threat of losing your life in front of everyone.

your thoughts shatter as your door creaks open. uraume enters, carrying a basket laden with ceremonial attire.

“sukuna-sama will return soon from his mission,” uraume states matter-of-factly, approaching your bedside and handing you the basket. your gaze fixes on the black and gold kimono. “in the meantime, prepare your gift for our king,” they remind you, prompting your heart to skip a beat. you nod gratefully as uraume exits the room.

you linger, captivated by the elegance of the wooden basket. slowly, an idea begins to take shape.

i hope this idea will work…

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

you hurriedly slip into the black and gold kimono uraume handed you, the fabric draping elegantly over your curves as you smooth out its silk folds.

grabbing the basket, you rush out of your room, navigating through the crowded hallways filled with servants, concubines, and guards all preparing to present their gifts to the king.

anxiety grips you as the chatter rises, signaling the ceremony may have already begun. finally reaching the garden, you drop to your knees, swiftly gathering orchids, red camellias, and wisterias.

heart pounding, you carefully arrange the brightly coloured flowers in the basket, leaving space for more. glancing around the vast garden for inspiration, you freeze as you spot a familiar figure in the distance, surrounded by guards and soldiers.

shit.

your pulse quickens as sukuna approaches the estate. you force yourself to calm down, needing clarity to finish your task.

turning to the fruit garden, you ignore the dirt on your kimono as you hurriedly gather peaches, oranges, and pomegranates from the trees, arranging them neatly in the basket.

with your last-minute gift finally perfected, you hope he will at least appreciate the effort. as cheers and applause erupt, signaling sukuna’s arrival, you hasten back to join the line of gift-givers, heart still racing with fear.

⨯. ⁺ ✦ ⊹ . *

the ceremony unfolds in a chamber unfamiliar to you, far larger than sukuna’s usual domain, filled with hundreds and hundreds of servants seated on comfortable cushions, rows of expectant faces awaiting the ceremony’s commencement.

as you wait nervously, you glance around at the lavish offerings others have brought—paintings, gleaming gold jewelry, fine silk robes, ancient artifacts, perfumes, and oils. in contrast, your basket of fruits and flowers seems painfully simple.

whispers and snickers ripple through the crowd, directed at your low-value gift, almost insulting to the king, as the laughter grew louder and more pointed. the embarrassment increases, now overwhelming you.

“silence.”

his voice cuts through the room like thunder, instantly quieting the chatter as all heads bow. only you remain defiantly gazing at sukuna from his elevated throne. he looks magnificent, his towering frame draped in a dark cotton robe that accentuates his scarlet eyes—those unsettling eyes that draw you in despite your fear.

“do you consider yourself more worthy than others to not bow?”

his voice pierces through you, shocking you out of your thoughts. you hadn’t realized you were staring at him so openly. a nearby servant nudges your head down forcefully, a silent command to acknowledge sukuna’s authority.

uraume then signals the first row to approach sukuna with their gifts. as he settles into his throne, one of his lower eye fixates on you with a chilling intensity, reminding you of the difference of ground upon which you stand.

the two brunettes, who supposedly despised you, were the first to present their gifts. all eyes watched as they offered lavish amounts of gold and diamonds to sukuna. you couldn’t help but notice the satisfaction that spread across his face, a subtle amusement evident as he casually placed the gift with one of lower arms behind him.

they took their places on either side of his throne, making way for the next in line. as the line shortened, your turn approached rapidly.

you watched with nervous anticipation as sukuna accepted one of the servants gifts— the beautifully sculpted artifacts and golden treasures—

slash!

the servant’s head was cleanly severed, a loud thud echoing through the room. gasps filled the air as the shock spread through the assembled crowd. some of the seasoned servants were used to sukuna’s impulsive acts, but this was the first time you had witnessed such brutality. blood splattered across his face, yet he remained unfazed, awaiting the next offerings.

you covered your mouth, stifling a scream of horror. the fear of becoming the next victim intensified as you compared your gift to the high valued gift he had just received.

how could he appreciate your offering if he did not enjoy the artifacts?

you were on edge, continuously hearing numerous slash and thuds that kept racing your heart. his gaze seemed to linger on you, intensifying your dread.

unaware that it was your turn next, you suddenly found yourself on the elevated floor, your gift clearly visible to all below. laughter erupted among the watching servants, their anticipation of your downfall.

you felt all four of his eyes fixated on you, observing your trembling form, your eyes flickering nervously as you struggled to stay composed. stepping cautiously over a puddle of blood, you nervously approached his throne.

with trembling hands, you presented the basket of flowers and fruits. below, the two brunettes knelt, their mocking laughter ringing in your ears.

sukuna silently observed the basket, his large hands delicately holding the tiny fruits. he plucked out peaches, pomegranates, and oranges with two hands while the other two hands carefully examined the flowers, bringing them to his nose to inhale their earthly fragrance. then, to your surprise, sukuna’s lips curled into a mischievous smile.

“little one,” he said in a low velvety voice that sent shivers down your spine. “you surprise me.”

the crowd exchanged puzzled glances, uncertain of how to interpret sukuna’s unexpected reaction. the two kneeling servants looked up at sukuna in disbelief, their faces turning pale as they realized their own gifts, despite their value, had not elicited such a response.

sukuna carefully placed everything back into the basket, then lifted a ripe peach to his lips. his intense gaze locked onto yours as he took a deliberate bite, savouring the sweetness. loudly humming at the sweet taste.

unexpectedly, two of sukuna’s free hands reached out and gently grabbed your waist. you squealed in surprise at the sudden contact as sukuna swiftly spun you around, placing you on his lap with your back is against his chest. his third hand delicately tilted your chin, looking up towards him.

“‘kuna…” you began, mindlessly calling him by a forbidden nickname. but his lips cut off your words in a hungry kiss. the taste of peach lingered on his lips, blending with the sweet intensity of the moment. his kiss was fierce, brimming with a raw passion.

sukuna’s large hand snakes up to the crevice of your neck, and to your surprise, another mouth formed on his hand, trailing down to suck and kiss a sensitive spot on your neck. a soft moan escaped your lips, muffled by his kiss, and he grinned at your reaction.

the brunettes stared up at the two of you with utter jealousy, never having received such intimacy from their king. the entire room gaped in shock; they had never witnessed the king of curses succumb so readily to a mere servant.

sukuna then pulls away, leaving you dizzy from the closeness. his presence seems to envelop you, making you feel intoxicated by his mere touch. with a gentle touch, sukuna adjusts your slouched posture, his hands holding you firmly against his broad chest. leaning down, he kisses your ear softly.

“you will judge which gift is worthy,” he begins, his closeness making your head spin even more. “if anything displeases you, I will take care of it,” he murmurs, hinting at even more slashes. another hand snaking up to your neck, softly applying pressure to restore your stability.

if anything you feel a rush of arousal.

“i will obey your every command, my queen. i am yours to command,” he declares softly, causing you to whimper in response. gasps fill the room as they witness the king of curses submitting himself to you.

“shall we resume, my lady?”

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen angst #jjk smut #sukuna ryomen smut #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #heian sukuna #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna angst

2K notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 days ago

Text

Just What I Needed 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, control, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: In an effort to evade a creep, you walk head first into Bucky Barnes. (short!reader)

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: based on this

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You keep to yourself. You mind your business. It can be hard in the city where there's always a horn honking or a voice hollering. You know how to get by. How to get through.

Head down, feet moving, just don't stop. The rush of the city tunnels around you, you among the masses unnoticed, forgotten. The way you like it. It's better to be invisible.

The subway is crowded, as it always is. There's a busker playing their guitar out of tune at the other end, an argument across from you, and the ceaseless chatter of a man on his Bluetooth side-eyeing his neighbors. You keep your hands on your crossbody bag and stare at the floor. There's dirty and gum and something wet you don't want to wonder about.

Another stop comes, the rail squealing below, and another horde gets on as only a few bodies leave. The passenger next to you swaps for another. You make yourself smaller. One more stop.

The man smells like body odour and weed. You try not to make a face. You only tuck your chin down and take deliberate breaths.

His arm presses against yours. He leans in and you feel him looking you over. You clasp tightly to your bag and bite down. Is he eyeing you up to rob you? You lift your eyes a scan around quickly. Would anyone bother to stop him?

He startles you as he rubs his knuckle against your skirt. The plaid wool in shades of brown, tan, and a dusty pink. Your brown stockings perfect complement the piece. He continues to move his finger, slowly crawling to your hem. You shift and stand as your stop is called out by the automated voice. Thank god.

You rush over to join the rabble forming for escape. You don't dare look back. You're nearly crushed between the passengers and as good as carried out onto the platform. You get your footing and quickly spin in the right direction.

You pass through the turnstile and your bag catches on the bar. You turn back to untangle it. There's a man coming up. You recognise his tattered cuff. It's the same guy who say next to you. Is he following you?

You unhook the bag and twirl, hurrying away before you can get the answer. You try not to run, not wanting to antagonize him. Or draw any other unwanted attention. Your soles hit the pavement and slip on the first step. You grab onto the railing and take the stairs in a flurry of steps. You're breathless as you reach the top. A whistle comes behind you and a laugh.

"Hey, honey, why don't you wait up. That's a nice skirt," he calls after you in a grizzly voice.

Oh no! You can't stop, but you can't lead him to your work. That's a recipe for disaster. Never let them know where you live or where you frequent. That's what you read online. For all your efforts, it's never happened to you before. Maybe some wandering shadows in the dark steeped in paranoia, but never this.

Your throat burns dryly as your heart hammers. You pass by a couple, a man and woman in business attire. They're entirely blind to you. You give another woman a desperate look but she's tapping her Bluetooth and sighing. Please, someone help. The whistling continues.

"Kitty, kitty," the man taunts.

The smell of exhaust and street meat mingle in a sickening lure. You search around. You think of stopping at the new stand and signalling to the vendor for help. He's clutching a dollar bill and ranting at a customer. No help.

Why do you spend your time reading all those LetsNotMeet stories online? This is horrifying. No cops. The one day you need them and they're just not there.

A man steps up to the hot dog cart ahead of you and checks his watch. You notice the odd metallic glove he wears on only one hand. He might not be better than the one following you but you're out of options.

"Oh, hi," you as good as run into him. He grunts and looks down at you. "Sorry, I'm late," you stutter out the words and send him a wide-eyed pout. "You didn't order without me, did you?"

His brows furrow as you grasp onto his sleeve. You lower your voice as you stand on your toes, "please, pretend you know me."

The wobble in your throat nearly draws tears to the surface. His expression softens. He dips his chin subtly and brings his hand up behind you, ushering you closer to the hot dog cart.

"Two, Mikey," he holds up as many fingers. "Usual for me, and uh, what are you getting, doll?"

You glance over at the man as he stops by the news stand, squinting over at you as he fidgets endlessly. You turn your attention to the man behind the cart. "Um, just relish and... ketchup, thank you. Oh, and please."

The man beside you steps closer, "I see the guy, don't worry, doll. I got you."

You tremble, "I'm sorry. I didn't know what to do."

"All good," he presses his hand to your back as he keeps you close.

The vendor, Mikey, hands you your hot dog first. "You didn't say you were on the market, pal. My sister's looking." He kids.

"Ha, funny, Mikey." The man beside you says and takes his own order. "Come on, there's a bench."

He guides you further down the street to the bench near the pole. He sits first, then you do. He's calm as you're ready to combust.

"I'm so so sorry," you murmur. "I saw... I don't know."

"It's alright," he drawls and he pulls back the wrapper, "Bucky. You, doll?"

You look between him and the man who wanders closer to the hot dog cart. You swallow and look to your saviour. Well, so far. You give your name.

He nods and bites into his hot dog. You do the same if only to stave off the awkwardness. What were you thinking? You've gone and ruined his life too.

You wince as you sense the creep lurking nearer and nearer. Why won't he stop?

Bucky takes the napkin away from the bottom of the wrapper and wipes his mouth. He curls the wrapper over his hot dog and offers it to you. "Hold this for a sec, alright, doll?"

You take it in confusion. He stands and cracks his knuckles. That shiny glove isn't a glove. It's his hand.

As the creep get closer to the bin a few feet from the bench, Bucky grabs him by his jacket. He shakes him and snarls, lifting him to his toes. He growls but you can't make out his words. The man who followed you goes pale and wriggles. Bucky lets him go. The errant passenger staggers off, nearly stepping into the path of a taxi.

Bucky returns and sits down casually. He holds his hand out and you give him back his hot dog. You stare at your own.

"Thank you. You didn't... have to..."

"That guy was a really cretin." He shrugs. "Can't complain for buying a cute girl a dog."

"Oh, uh, yes, thanks. Again. That's... I have change."

You reach for your purse and he clucks, "don't go and do that. My mom didn't raise me like that."

"Uh, yes, sorry. I wasn't meaning to be... ungrateful."

"Don't gotta be sorry," he sits back.

You bite into your hot dog and silently chew. You were hungry before but it isn't bad. Especially for street meat. Your eyes fall to his hand. He wiggles his fingers.

"It's an upgrade, really," he extends his metal digits to show you.

"I... wasn't meaning to stare."

"It is what it is," he crumples up his wrapper. "Just gotta deal with people hounding me."

"Hounding you?" You tilt your head.

His cheek dimples, "you don't... don't know who I am?"

You think and shake your head. "Sorry, sir."

"Sir? Please," he waves you off. "It's fine."

"Bucky... that's your name." You remember what the vendor called him.

"Sure is," he replies.

"I never heard... no, I don't know," you push your lower lip out.

"Kinda refreshing," he drawls. "Well, doll, thanks for the lunch date," he stands and rolls his shoulders, "want me to walk you to wherever you're headed?"

"Oh, no, I can't ask for that. It's just a block down."

"I don't mind," he says.

You stand and nibble on the last of the bun. You swallow. "Please, I... I'm okay." You look down and up again, "thanks to you."

His mouth curves, just a little, "if.... you really feel like you owe me, which I'm not saying you do, but... maybe I could get your number."

You flutter your lashes. He's asking for your number. Wow. You don't think anyone's ever done that.

"Yeah uh," you press your hand full of bun to your purse and pull open the zipper. You slip out your phone and unlock it. You hold it out to him, "sorry, I can't... type."

"No problem, doll," he accepts it and keys in his number. "Bit of advice, though," he reaches to slide the cell back into your bag, "don't be handing this out to just anyone." He zips up the bag. "I could've been down the block by now."

You make and O with your lips, "oh, I'm..."

"Don't be sorry," he insists. "I'll call you."

"Sure."

"And you'll answer?"

"Of course," you make a face.

"Just wanna make sure," he says. "You have a good day. Oh, and the next time you got some creep on your heels, call me."

You nod and try to smile. You're still a bit shaky but you feel better. You think you can trust him. He saved you after all.

💘

The water spits at you and you back away from the stove. You adjust the dial as you squeak. That burner is crooked and the flames lick ravenously at the small pot. As you try to keep the fire under control, your phone buzzes. Usually there's a short vibe but this is incessant.

You scramble to grab it before the call times out. You tap answer before you can check the ID. You huff breathlessly, "hello?"

"Doll? Everything okay?" The familiar voice greets with concern. It takes a moment to click. It's been a few days since your run-in.

"Yeah, I'm... cooking dinner," you put him on speaker as you go back to the stove.

"Ah, I'm interrupting," he intones.

"It's... okay," you place the phone carefully against the toaster and let it stand. You grab the bag of noodles and pour them into the water. It splashes you and you cheep again.

"Doll?" He rasps.

"I'm fine. Just... clumsy," you affirm. You don't know what to say.

"How are you doing?" He asks. You're happy for his guidance.

"Okay. Tired. How about you?"

"Better now I'm talking to you. Sorry, I couldn't call sooner. I was out of town. Work." He explains.

"Oh, it's... it's fine. Everyone's busy."

He snorts softly, "you are too much, doll. Just too... too much."

"I am?" You wonder.

The line scuffs as he moves around, "you're not afraid of me, are ya?" He asks. "Did you look me up then?"

"Afraid? Uh, no. No, I didn't..." To be honest, you tried to forget running from that guy from the subway.

"No? Most girls... not that I know many, they do. Don't stick around long."

"Um, right, er, I didn't... look you up. I just... I've been working."

"Course, doll. I know. You're a good girl. It's why you found me. To keep the bad guys away," he cooes.

You stir the noodles with a wooden spoon. You stare at the phone, trying to unravel his words.

"So, I was thinking, tomorrow, Friday, you busy?"

"Not after five," you shrug.

"Perfect. I was thinking something fancy for the first date."

You're quiet as you scrunch up your brow. "Date?"

He laughs, "why'd you think I asked for your number?"

You sniff, "mm, I thought maybe you were being nice."

He thinks that's funny too as he chuckles once more.

"Oh, I can't wait to be nice to you, doll. And more," he purrs. "I'm sure you'll pick out something real special to wear too."

"I... I'll find something," you eke out as your heart flutters.

A date? You're really not prepared for that; just like that guy on the train.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of you, doll," he promises. "Just like I did before."

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #series #just what i needed #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #winter soldier

619 notes · View notes

mellowyellow236 · 1 month ago

Text

How would the TWST boys act when they’re jealous?

This is Savanaclaw and Octovinelle's section- Link to Heartslabyul. All characters are meant to be interpreted as romantic. The reader is gender-neutral. There may be mild spoilers as to who overblots and other facts. Some of them might have Yandere tendencies, though nothing graphic or descriptive and always very mild, they’ll be marked with a ‘Y’ if they do. Mainly because sometimes the boys are calm and talk through their feelings… And sometimes they go down possessive insecurity-included spirals. If anyone has anything to add or any questions, please leave a reblog or comment! Requests are open if anyone wants.

Savanaclaw:

Leona Kingscholar -

Leona gets jealous easily, but won’t often do anything about it. You’re his herbivore and you know it, don’t you? Just get back over here, and ignore them.

But then one day you come home smelling like some dog. Maybe a member of his dorm? But he doesn’t care who. You smell like another man, Herbivore. What do you think you’re doing, huh? You have someone else all on you.

Leona’ll give you his coat as soon as he sees you. Expect an arm around the waist and him not letting you go until you’ve both napped for a while. Seven help you if he wakes up and you still smell like some other guy.

Herbivore, what kind of game are you playing? What, is he second place again? You’re just gonna leave him and go off to some mutt? Those pooches don’t deserve you. Do you think he doesn’t deserve you? Do you think someone else could do it better? Did you finally realize he doesn’t deserve you?

How dare you. How dare you push him aside, like everyone else always has. Fine, then leave. Go ahead. If he’s only your second priority, just get out. Why are you even still here? He’s just a second prince who destroys everything he touches. Why are you still here? Are you really going to stay? Fine. You’re allowed to stay, but only for a bit. Get out within a couple of hours. But while you’re here, you better not leave his side.

Ruggie Bucchi -

Ruggie’s not visibly jealous easily- He’s used to having to share things, not that he likes it- But it’s pretty obvious if you know his tells. With his ears down, tail slightly between his legs, and almost frantic laughter.

Oh, so you’re eating out with Ace and Duece now? But what about your old pal Ruggie? Doesn’t he deserve to get some “love,” too? Come on, Prefect! Just let him tag along, just for a little while!

He promises he’ll pay you back somehow. Yeah, he doesn’t have money, but here’s a little bite of his food. Isn’t that just great? Isn’t that good enough? Isn’t that okay? What’s wrong, huh? Is he not good enough?

Dontcha want to come over here and pet his ears and tail? He’ll let you. Come on, Jack’s fluffier, but Ruggie’s got- He’s got- Well, he’s gonna let you do it for longer. Besides, don’t you owe him? He gave you some food. You’ve gotta give him this. Why’s he asking? Isn’t it obvious? He’s justin tryin’ to lull you into givin’ him more in the future because you’re gonna think everything he wants back is sunshine and rainbows and yucky. Don’t go readin’ too much into it, ‘Kay?

Besides, it’s gonna wash that stench off of you. If you’re petting him all the time, you’ll smell like him. That’ll get rid of all his problems… What, you heard nothing, Prefect. Just go along your merry way, he’ll be right behind you if that’s what you’re asking.

Jack Howl -

Jack knows what jealousy is. He knows what it feels like. He’s been jealous of other kids' toys when he was young, he’s been jealous of how much someone else can lift, and he’s been jealous of various other things over the years. What he isn’t prepared for is what it feels like when you’re jealous of someone’s time. When you’re jealous of their smile and their friends and their everything… And it’s not because you want it. It’s because you want them.

He knows what he’s feeling. But that doesn’t stop him from feeling it all at once. It’s sort of like the world is caving in for that brief second that it’s Sebek who picks you up, Deuce who walks you home, and Leona’s room you stay in. He wants to be your priority- You are his priority- So when he feels like he isn’t and it’s horrible and terrible and he wants to cry for some odd reason… He knows what he’s feeling, but he can’t believe it.

He’s not controlling. But, he is protective, especially once he’s jealous. He’ll try to win you back, showing off his physical capabilities and trying his best to make you believe that he can take care of you and help you and is definitely so much better than anyone else in your friend group and you should study in his room sometime so he can show you his cacti please just follow him and get away from that guy over there.

He’s willing to talk it out afterward, especially if you’re dating. After all, this is a relationship he wants to work out, if a little jealousy will break you two there’s no point in it. But if you’re the one who he’s fighting against because you can’t respect a boundary- His is really just that you be mindful of physical affection with other guys- He will hesitate to break up with you… But there’s a chance that if the two of you are unwilling to compromise, it will come to that. He’s loyal, but rightful stubborn about his boundaries and always wants to think through things with his future in mind.

But if you’re willing to hear him out, and listen to his boundaries and needs- Respect goes both ways and now you’ve got yourself a protective guard dog ready to save you from whatever fool decided to try and break his trust in you.

Octavinelle:

Azul Ashengrotto -

Azul gets jealous easily. He knows he’s inadequate. He knows it so, so well… So why did he let himself think this time would be different? He thought you actually liked him. He thought you loved him, maybe, even, if he was truly, foolishly hoping for it. Like an idiot. Because there you were, across the room, with someone else holding your waist.

Why did they get to? How come they’re the one that gets to be with you, that gets to be running their fingers down your back and leaning over to whisper something in your ear? How come it can’t be Azul? How come?

He’s falling apart without you. Even as he takes you away, even as he brings you to the VIP room, even as he gets to be the only one to lay eyes on you for a brief moment, those horrible feelings still drum under his skin, growing stronger the more you claim nothing was wrong.

Why? Why wasn’t he good enough? Was he not handsome enough? Was he too fat? Was his human form not appealing enough? He can change it. He can edit his form on land. He can make sure he never goes back to being that stupid, chubby, silly octopus he’s sure is the reason you were with the other guy. Please. He doesn’t even know what he’s begging for. You, maybe. Why wasn’t he enough?

Even as you hug him and tell him it’s not like that, he can’t bear it. He can’t. He just wants your eyes on him, is that too much to ask? Please, don’t look away. Don’t let someone else touch you like that. Please, just… Please. Don’t let him go.

Jade Leech - Y

Oh, there’s a student with you? You’re having dinner with them in the Monstro lounge? You’re all alone with him…? :)

Very sorry, but could you please step aside for a moment, Prefect? Jade has something he needs to do for a moment. The issue with that boy, if he could even be called that, coming into his territory will soon be resolved.

What’s his territory? Well, there’s no reason for you to be concerned about it. Just rest a little, he’ll join you in the VIP room soon. You’ll be far away from any other customers… As you should be. You’re far above them.

Hm? What do you mean? Is Azul conducting a contract there? Oh, silly him, he must have forgotten. That’s quite alright. He knows it’s not like him, but you won’t fault him for one mistake, will you? That would be quite cruel, dear. How cold of you… But maybe how warm, to be so worried over him. Don’t panic at all, he’s merely tired. But thank you for that, it provides some… Validation for him.

You can just go up to Jade’s bedroom instead! There should be no one up there to disturb you, except for once he’s off shift. Yes, he knows it ends soon, but there’s still always a little bit of work to be done, even if it’s only some additional… Cleanup. And afterward, you can rest with him. You were just worried about him, weren’t you? If you weren’t lying about the fact you care for him, wouldn’t you do it? Come on, Prefect.

Floyd Leech - Y

Whenever I do one of these, I start Floyd’s section by saying, “Oh no!” So this time, I’ll switch it up slightly. Uh oh, you’re screwed.

Whether or not Floyd was in a good mood before this, he’s now in a bad one. Sliding up next to you and asking you who you were talking with, putting an arm around your waist and squeezing you close. He’s not easy to calm down, but given affection and after you clear up any misunderstanding, he’ll just need a clingy shrimpy for a couple of days to match his pouty mood.

But if it was someone genuinely coming onto you… And he doesn’t see you tear them apart right there… He’ll be the one to do it. He’s not afraid to throw a punch or two. Or more. Or a kick. He needs to protect you, what if he doesn’t? What if some little tiny fishy comes to take his shrimpy away? He’s just protecting you. Just trust him, don’t worry about anything else.

At the end of the day, he’s an eel, and he’ll stop anyone who gets too close to his territory. Well, that’s what you signed up for, right? Maybe a few acquaintances will end up with some more bites, maybe you’ll end up with some more bites, but you’ll be fine. Probably.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingsholar x reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucci x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #azul x reader #azul ashengrotto #floyd leech #floyd x reader #jade leech #jade leech x reader

923 notes · View notes

povlnfour · 1 year ago

Text

ੈ✩‧₊˚ EVERYBODY TALKS (LN4)

pairing: lando norris x f!reader

summary: lando eventually lands the girl of his dreams. he also finds out just how fast news travels

a/n: this was one of my wips i posted foREVER ago so enjoy the full one shot whilst i finish off some written stuff. based on everybody talks by neon trees🙇‍♀️🤍

*faceclaim (but imagine as you see her fit) is millie hannah

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by alex_albon, danielricciardo and 451,608 others

landonorris boo’s birthday

view all comments

alex_albon here’s a thought stop calling her your boo and actually make her your boo

this comment has been hidden by the original poster

user did anyone else see that comment or am i making things up

user bro just ask her out i swear to god

user last photo is feeling very intimate mr. norris

alex_albon happy birthday y/n/n, please don’t get me super drunk tomorrow

user i saw that last comment mr ur not slick

yourusername no promises albono i intend to do a lot of shots

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 47,009 others

yourusername y/n’s big birthday bash🪩

👤 tagged landonorris, friend1 and 6 others

view all comments

landonorris did u run to the bathrooms just to post on instagram

yourusername stfu and order me shots

user is anyone else now thinking about how often y/n probably sees lando shirtless👁️👄👁️

user i’ve been thinking about it since she first posted that photo of him in the gym showing his abs

user @/user TAG ME IN THAT WTF

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, alex_albon and 43,001 others

yourusername 💋

view all comments

user MA’AM YOU ARE UNBELIEVABLY ATTRACTIVE

lilymhe is that the lip combo i suggested because GIRL IT SUITS YOU

user lando MOVE i want her too

landonorris pretty

landonorris where are you off to?

yourusername meeting that friend i told you about on my bday!

y/n’s texts with lando ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just posted stories ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 45,610 others

yourusername race days

view all comments

maxverstappen1 you’re a jinx. never come again

maxverstappen1 (it was lovely to see you)

yourusername hope you enjoyed your time in the garage🥰🥰

user come to every race you’re good luck

user personally if my best friend was super hot and came to cheer me on looking that good i’d cuff her but maybe lando’s different

yourusername nah he’s just oblivious

landonorris @/yourusername HUH

yourusername @/landonorris i said what i said

tmz just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

texts between lando and friends ੈ✩‧₊˚

landonorris just tweeted ੈ✩‧₊˚

yourusername responded: yes, literally everyone.

landonorris just posted a photo ੈ✩‧₊˚

liked by yourusername, alex_albon and 500,018 others

landonorris lando: 1, friendzone: 0

view all comments

user FUCKIN FINALLY.

user @/yourusername i could treat you better

alex_albon you’re not really winning if you’ve been pining over her for two years mate

landonorris shut the fuck up before she sees this

yourusername @/landonorris TWO YEARS??? TWO YEARS AND YOU SAID NOTHING????

user uh oh. lando’s in trouble

————

a/n: this was… weak i apologise im still settling in😭 just wanted to put something out whilst i finish my charles/seb/lando written one shots eek!

as always any reblogs and whatnot appreciated. big love xx

- giselle

taglist (found here): @idkiwantchocolatee @vellicora @alessioayla @bborra @crimeshowjunkie @minkyungseokie @paolexsstuff @celestialpato @champagnelovers101 @loxbbg @hobiismyhopeu @tsukishitm-a @moonypixel @champagneproblems17 @ironmaiden1313 @lqvesoph @sunflower-golden-vol6 @six-call @skatingiswalkingincursive @peqch-pie @m0cha-bunny @woozarts @he6rtshaker @iluvvmeeee @goldenalbon @izzy-marvel @lucyysthings @lichterfee @tallrock35 @treehouse-house @iloveyou3000morgan @scopeiguess @amaranthineghost @gwginnyweasley @hetfieldd @sweetbabygirlsworld @wittywhispers @dark-night-sky-99 @namgification @casperlikej @marshmummy @geniusalpaca

#… [giselle speaking]#f1 x reader #f1 #lando norris #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #mclaren #lando norris au #lando norris blurb #lando norris smau #lando norris scenario #lando norris one shot

3K notes · View notes

girllblogging777 · 3 months ago

Text

𝑠𝑙𝑦𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑖𝑛 𝑏𝑜𝑦𝑠 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑐𝑡 ༉‧₊˚.

↳ to the “heather” trend

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑜 𝑟𝑖𝑑𝑑𝑙𝑒

☆ matt is a little cocky about the whole thing. when he realizes you want his sweater for the trend, he’ll make a big show of teasing you.

☆ “oh, so you’re one of those girls now, huh? fine, but if you’re wearing my sweater, everyone’s gonna know who you belong to."

☆ despite the teasing, he hands it over with a grin and won’t stop smirking every time he sees you in it. he might even demand a photo for “evidence.”

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑜𝑑𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑡

☆ theo is quiet but observant, so he’s already aware of the trend before you even mention it.

☆ he wordlessly hands it to you on december third with a soft smile. “it’s yours, amore. you know that, right?"

☆ he enjoys the understated intimacy of you wearing his clothes, and if anyone comments on it, he just gives them a knowing smirk.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝑙𝑜𝑟𝑒𝑛𝑧𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑟𝑘𝑠ℎ𝑖𝑟𝑒

☆ enzo is all for it, no hesitation. as soon as he hears about the trend, he’s practically throwing his sweater at you.

☆ "here, babe. take it! honestly, you should’ve asked sooner."

☆ he’s the type to brag to everyone about how good you look in his clothes, and he’ll probably try to convince you to keep it permanently. bonus points if he later steals it back just for fun.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝑑𝑟𝑎𝑐𝑜 𝑚𝑎𝑙𝑓𝑜𝑦

☆ draco is not a fan of trends, but when he realizes this one involves you wearing his sweater, he suddenly gets on board. he shrugs off his sweater and hands it to you, acting like it’s no big deal.

☆ "here. you might as well wear mine. can’t have people thinking you belong to someone else."

☆ he pretends to be indifferent, but seeing you in his sweater makes him proud, and he'll walk a little taller all day.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

𝑏𝑙𝑎𝑖𝑠𝑒 𝑧𝑎𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑖

☆ blaise catches on pretty quickly, though he pretends not to care at first. when he realizes you're expecting his sweater, he smirks, takes it off, and drapes it over your shoulders with a dramatic flair.

☆ "you didn’t have to start a trend just to get my sweater, love. but I’ll admit, you look better in it than I do."

☆ he makes it seem like he’s doing you a favor, but deep down, he loves how proud you look wearing it.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

a/n : happy december third everyone, here’s a sweater for you in honour of “heather” day !!! please like, comment & reblog <3

tell me if you wanna be added to the tag list ! @redeemingvillains @leona-hawthorne @shiftingwithmars @tateshifts @rose-of-the-grave @clar2aa @iris-qt @sp7-mr @deadghosy @deadsnakey @helendeath @jolly4holly @larmesdevanille @dexoq @shiftingwithleah @sunkissedscribbles @chelawrites @myunperfektstorys @yikesitslush @slut-for-fictional-men @romantasyreader28 @witchsrecs @mattiesgf @reidol0gy @kenjikishimotoswifey @2dloveshp @riddlesgrl @nottsangel-recs

513 notes · View notes

23victoria · 8 months ago

Text

slow motion

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

warnings: smut (wrap it before you tap it), cussing, fluff, i think that’s it

authors note: it’s been a min so i need to get something out to you guys!! hope it’s not bad and ignore any typos! ALSO SO PROUD OF OSCAR!!! HE DESERVED THATS WIN!! LOVE HIM SM!! any feedback is appreciated and please like, comment, and reblog!! hope you enjoy!!

wanna be tagged in my works?! CLICK HERE!

f1 masterlist 1k celebration

“What the fuck, why would they do that?!”

The frustration coursed through you as McLaren’s decision to box Lando first flashed across the screen. Oscar was leading the race, on the brink of his first victory, and yet they chose to pit Lando first. It didn’t make any sense. Every nerve in your body was on edge as you watched the race unfold. The radio messages about switching positions were maddening. It felt like McLaren was orchestrating the race rather than letting it happen naturally.

Finally, when the order came for Lando to let Oscar through, you felt a mixture of relief and lingering irritation. This was Oscar’s moment, his hard-fought victory, but the team’s strategy had cast a shadow over it, making it seem as if it was a gift rather than something he had earned.

When it was time for the podium celebration, your heart swelled with pride. Watching Oscar spray the champagne, his face illuminated with joy, was everything you had dreamed of. The crowd’s cheers echoed in your ears, and you could hardly contain your excitement. He had done it. He had won his first F1 race, and you were bursting with happiness for him.

After the celebrations, you and Oscar are on the way to the hotel. "McLaren needs to get their stuff together," you told him, shaking your head. "They almost ruined it with their strategy. But you, babe, you were amazing out there. You earned that victory."

Oscar smiled, a tired but satisfied look on his face. "Thank you. I can't wait to go home and sleep."

You shook your head playfully. "Oh no, we have dinner tonight. We're celebrating, sorry not sorry."

He groaned, half-jokingly. "Can't we just stay in?"

"Absolutely not," you insisted, laughing. "We're going to have a nice dinner, drink, dance, and celebrate your victory properly."

The dinner party was a nice turnout. Friends and fellow racers gathered around, the atmosphere buzzing with excitement and congratulations. You and Oscar mingled, shared drinks, and danced, reveling in the celebratory mood. Laughter and cheers filled the air, making the night unforgettable.

On the way to the hotel in the car, you couldn’t keep your hands off Oscar. The excitment from the victory was still coursing through both of you, and your desire for him was at an all-time high. You leaned in, kissing his neck softly at first, then more urgently, as your hands roamed over his chest. He tilted his head back, giving you better access as you whispered dirty words into his ear, your breath hot against his skin.

"You're so amazing, Oscar," you murmured, your voice low and seductive. "I can't wait to get you back to the hotel."

He groaned softly, his eyes darkening with desire. "You're driving me crazy, Y/N."

"Sit on the bed," you instructed him, a mischievous glint in your eye.

As soon as you reached the hotel room, you pushed him inside, locking the door behind you. "Sit on the bed," you instructed, your voice commanding yet playful.

Oscar obeyed, his gaze never leaving yours. You slowly began to undress, swaying your hips seductively as you removed each piece of clothing. His eyes followed every movement, his breath hitching as you revealed more of your skin.

Clad only in your lingerie, you straddled his lap, feeling his arousal pressing against you. You ground your hips against him, eliciting a deep moan from his lips. Your hands roamed over his chest, teasing and caressing as you kissed him deeply, your tongue exploring his mouth.

He reached out to touch you, but you pushed his hands away playfully. "Not yet," you teased, moving his hands to his sides as you continued to dance for him. You could feel his arousal growing beneath you, adding to the heat between you.

Finally, you couldn't take it any longer. You pushed him onto the bed and climbed over him, your hands deftly unzipping his pants. You kissed his neck, nibbling on his skin as your hands roamed his body, teasing and tantalizing.

You pushed him back onto the bed, crawling over him with a mischievous glint in your eye. Your fingers deftly unzipped his pants, freeing his erection. You kissed down his chest, trailing your lips lower and lower until you reached his hard length. You took him into your mouth, your tongue swirling around the tip before taking him deeper, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn't reach.

Oscar's hands tangled in your hair, guiding your movements as he groaned with pleasure. "Fuck baby, that feels so good," he breathed, his voice husky with desire.

You slowly sucked his cock, taking your time to pleasure him until he was teetering on the edge. Then, you pulled back kissing his tip, climbing back up to straddle his hips. You guided him inside you, both of you gasping at the sensation. You moved slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely. Then, you began to ride him harder, your movements becoming more urgent as the pleasure built between you.

Oscar's hands gripped your hips firmly, his fingers digging into your skin as he helped guide your movements. You rode him slowly at first, savoring the feeling of him filling you completely. The room was filled with the sounds of your heavy breathing, your moans mingling with the rhythmic slap of skin against skin. Every movement sent waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You leaned down to kiss him, your lips meeting his in a passionate embrace. Your tongues danced together, the kiss deepening as your bodies moved in perfect harmony. You felt his muscles tense beneath you, his breath hot against your mouth as he groaned with pleasure.

"God, you feel so good," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire. His hands roamed up your back, pulling you closer as you continued to move together.

You began to ride him harder, your hips moving with increasing urgency. The friction between your bodies was intoxicating, each thrust bringing you closer to the edge. Oscar's hands moved to your breasts, his thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core.

Just when you thought you couldn't take any more, Oscar suddenly flipped you onto your back, taking control. He thrust into you with a new intensity, his movements faster and harder than before. The change in angle sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, making you cry out his name.

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a fierce kiss as he drove into you. "You're mine," he growled against your mouth, his voice raw with passion. "Every inch of you."

"Yes, Osc," you gasped, wrapping your legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "I'm yours. Always."

His pace quickened, his hips slamming into yours with a relentless rhythm. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans and the wet, rhythmic slap of skin against skin. His name fell from your lips in a litany of pleasure as he brought you closer and closer to the brink.

"Come for me, Y/N," he commanded, his voice a low, sexy growl in your ear.

His words sent you over the edge. Your body tensed, a powerful orgasm ripping through you. You cried out, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him. Oscar followed soon after, his own release hitting him hard. He buried his face in your neck, groaning your name as he filled you with his warmth.

You lay there together, your bodies entwined, both of you breathing heavily as you came down from the high. Oscar gently brushed a strand of hair from your face, his eyes filled with love and satisfaction.

"I love you," he whispered, his voice tender.

"I love you too, baby," you replied, pulling him into a soft, lingering kiss.

✿ .° • everything taglist • °. ✿ : @ham1lton @ietss @animeandf1lover @nelly187 @heartsfromtaeyong @bloodyymaryyy @nor-4 @zacian117 @mel164 @uhhvictoria @hadidsworld @zabwlky1999 @sya-skies @lillysbigwilly @avengers-assemble123456 @santanasaintmendes @km-23mr @hookhausenschips @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @Ronpho @minekarina @formula1-motogpfa @slagclarens

✿ .° • oscar taglist • °. ✿ : @tellybearryyyy @exotic-iris13 @magixpracticality @eoduuung @eternoangel l @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @flowerpetalk @oledoledoffen

770 notes · View notes

dollfacefantasy · 1 year ago

Text

Restless Dreams

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon gets home late after another hard day at work to you having some extra sweet dreams.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, fingering, somnophilia, wet dream

word count: 3.6k

a/n: hey everyone!! hope you all enjoy this :) i guess i've been into soft leon with somno lately idk LOL. i was kind of tired myself when writing/editing this, so forgive any errors pretty please. new divider from here. thank you for any comments and reblogs <3

tags: @sleepyluxe @kaitkatme @tosuckmyweenis @pupthepokemonenthusiast @bizzarethirst @death-paint @petitecolibri @iron-toxinz @wildest-dreams-at-midnight @nexysworld @explorevenus

“So what time do you think you’re gonna get here?” you ask before blowing on the drying polish that coats your nails.

“My shift finishes up at 12, and then I gotta file some reports. I’ll probably be done at 1, so not too long after that,” Leon explains through the phone. Despite his attempt to lay it out for you, there’s still a pause, one he came to recognize as your reaction of displeasure. A smile plays on his lips. “But you know the real answer is as soon as I can.”

You look down at your phone on your vanity, a pout forming on your face. Obviously, it wasn’t his fault he had to work so much now. He’d warned you when he started at the police station a few months ago, but it didn’t prepare you for how much you’d miss him.

It made you feel dumb, that nagging, achy feeling of longing in your chest. It wasn’t like he was off to war or something. You still saw him almost everyday. But more and more of his time was consumed by work now. Even when he was with you, he was often exhausted.

Sometimes all you could think about his new job was that he was your boyfriend, not theirs. You’d mentally scold yourself for being so immature when that happened, but the sentiment still lingered in your head.

“Ok…” you say, trying to keep your voice neutral. He hears the dejection in your tone though.

“Baby,” he coos in that voice that sent warmth through your spine and got you to agree with everything he said, “You know I’d rather be with you. I’m just new and have to take the time to learn. Plus, with the caseload and the number of officers here, they need me at the station.”

“I need you more,” you say. You try to pass it off as playfulness, but it comes from real feelings. Your heart was beginning to tense with resentment for the RPD for taking him away so much. You knew the job meant a lot to him though which is why you would never unleash your admittedly petty frustrations.

A low laugh leaves him, and you can hear that loving smirk on his face as his voice comes through your phone’s speaker.

“Do you now? You’re really missing me that much?” he teases, leaning back in the driver’s seat of his cruiser.

He knew that you did in fact miss him that much. And even though, since starting at the police station, he tried to project the image of a tough guy, he missed you just as much. That’s why he started calling you during lulls in his shift.

“Mhm. It’s not fair. It’s like I’m sharing you with the station. And I don’t like sharing,” you say with an exaggerated huff.

“Oh, I know you don’t,” he chuckles. He sighs happily, checking the time to calculate how much time was left before he could have you in his arms again. “But not much longer, baby. Then you get me all to yourself for the whole weekend.”

“I better,” you grumble with a smile.

“I promise you will,” he says genuinely. A light on his dashboard flickers, alerting him that his attention is needed elsewhere. “Just don’t stay up too late waiting for me tonight, ok? Your rest is important.”

“Seeing you is more important,” you respond.

“I know, but I prefer my girl when she’s not all cranky and sleep deprived. So try tonight, sweetheart. For me?” he asks.

“I guess,” you concede. Your heart already aches, knowing he’s about to hang up.

“I love you, baby,” he says softly, “I’ll see you later.”

“I love you too,” you tell him before he disconnects the call.

The silence that falls over your room makes it feel even more empty. You tap the glass screen of your phone, scanning for the time before you finish getting ready for bed. Your mouth curves downward when the numbers light up on the screen.

Only 10:30. Too much time till you’ll hear him come through your front door, but it’s not like you can do anything about it. You haphazardly go through the rest of your routine before dragging yourself over to your bed and getting in.

Sliding between the soft pink sheets, you flop down against your pillow and stare at the ceiling as you contemplate how to kill the time. Nothing grabs your interest because none of it’s him. It’s all just filler.

And worst of all, you were starting to feel sleepy. You wanted to wait up for Leon so badly, but you also went through a whole day of your own that tired you out. Plus, your bed was just so comfy with your plush blankets and full pillows, stuffed animals and frilly decorative cushions scattered on one side.

Thinking it would help to keep your eyes actively focused on something, you try to read. Your eyes scan over the words, and it isn’t long before you realize you’d made a horrible mistake. Moving your eyes along the page only made them more drowsy.

Next you turn on the tv and put on something you didn’t really have to pay attention to. But the soft glow of the tv casts across you and the low chatter of the characters becomes background noise, making it even harder for you to keep your eyes open.

You lazily reach across your bed and grab the bunny stuffie Leon had bought for you a few weeks prior. Tucking it beneath your chin and close to your chest, your drooping eyes fall shut and your breaths become soft and even. Barely any time has gone by before you’re sinking into slumber.

Leon glances down at his phone, the small numbers illuminating 2:04 in the darkness of the hallway. He enters your place with the key you gave him and shuts the door as quietly as possible. He knows you’re sleeping from seeing the dark bedroom. Already feeling guilty for taking longer than he’d expected, he didn’t want to add to that feeling by waking you up.

He makes his way to your room, padding silently down the hall. Once he reaches the door, he pushes it open with almost no force in an attempt to avoid even the slightest creak. You’re where he expected you to be, curled up in your bed, completely peaceful as you slept. He knew he probably looked like a little lovesick puppy right about now, eager to hop into bed and snuggle up to your side, but he didn’t care.

It takes him no time to shed his police uniform. He makes quick work of unlacing his boots and kicking them off. His pants and shirt crumple up at the foot of your bed next to his belt and socks. Finally, once he’s got on a pair of sweatpants he kept at your place, he climbs into bed with you.

He shoves your stuffies and extra pillows out of his way with a playful roll of his eyes and gets as close to you as he can. His arm drapes over you, and he nuzzles the back of your neck, planting a few kisses on the base of your head. You smelled so good, felt so soft, perfect to come home to.

His body melts into the mattress, and he’s ready to give into his own urges to sleep. That is until he notices you’re not as peaceful as you appeared from the doorway. His eyebrows raise as he feels your legs squirming. Restless movements from your feet beneath the covers and your thighs shifting aimlessly against each other.

He’s ready to brush it off at first. ‘Must just be having some wild dreams,’ he thinks with another kiss to your head. But then he hears the faintest sound, so quiet that he probably would have missed it had he been focused on anything else. It’s a whimper. A gentle, tender squeak that slips from between your lips into the cool air of your bedroom.

Now, his face conveys his concern. He worries you’re having a nightmare. That at any moment you’ll wake up with tears in your eyes and your heart pounding out of your chest. Immediately, he begins stroking your arm, kissing your temple, murmuring “It’s ok, baby. I’m here.”

But you make that little noise again, and this time it paints a different picture in Leon’s head. This whimper didn’t sound scared or stressed, like you were crying out for his protection. No, this sound brought to mind images of you writhing beneath him, nails marking his biceps with small crescents as he pumped himself in and out of you.

He shakes his head because that couldn’t be it. That’s just his horny mind creating things that aren’t there from being so pent up.

At least that’s what he tells himself until you make the noise again. It brings the same memories up, but this time he’s even more sure of it. He lifts his head off of yours to look down at you and try to figure out what to do next.

You look so cute, brows slightly furrowed, lips parted. As he brushes some hair from your face, he notices your fingers clutching your stuffed rabbit a little tighter. Your breath hitches for a moment before you let out a soft, sleepy whine of his name.

It’s unmistakable now what’s going on. He smirks and traces a finger over your lips. The pad of his index finger drags on your bottom lip slightly, turning your mouth into that pout he loved so much. He leans and kisses your cheek as you whine again.

“Please.”

He chuckles at how needy you sound even in your sleep, but at the same time, your voice has blood rushing to his cock while his head swirls with desire. He shifts his own hips, subtly pressing his erection against your ass. His eyes flutter at the minute pleasure. He grows more bold, and his hand rubs your hip before coasting up your side to your chest, giving your breast a gentle squeeze.

You whimper louder and squirm. He squeezes again softly while lowering his head to your neck to lay some tender kisses on the side of your throat. His palm leaves your tits and smooths down over your tummy in the direction of your shorts.

Cautiously, he maneuvers his hand past the waistband and dips into your panties. He cups your pussy, feeling the heat radiating off the area. A single finger slides between your folds in almost an exploratory touch. He feels your slick all over his digit. Clearly, this dream was a pretty good one.

He begins to use another finger, sliding the two up and down through your wetness. You roll onto your back, your breasts rising and falling as your breath gets heavier. Your thighs spread a little as if you subconsciously sensed his presence between your legs.

In your dreams, Leon was doing a lot more than rubbing you with his fingers. After you had fallen asleep, it felt like no time had passed. All of the sudden you were just on the table in your dining room, spread out for his rapture.

You didn’t realize you were dreaming, everything felt so real. To you, he was really there, looking down at you with those loving yet lecherous eyes. Hands roaming your exposed body, lips caressing your skin all over. Everything seemed light and airy while also feeling heavy and thick. Your head, filled with clouds, slipped in and out of the moment. The sensation of him rutting his cock between your thighs and sliding inside of you was your reality at the moment.

In actual reality, Leon continues to move his fingers slowly, swiping them over your entrance and taking them back up to circle your clit. You mewl when he applies some pressure, sending sparks through you. Your squirming becomes more motivated, and he can tell your drifting away from your restful sleep back toward consciousness.

“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he murmurs, his voice huskier with arousal this time around.

You hear his voice in your dreams. The deep rumble enters your ears as you envision his hips pistoning into your wanting cunt. You mumble something in response, but he can’t understand the sleepy babbling. He rubs your clit a little harder with some more speed. You twitch in response, yet your eyes remain closed.

“I know, baby. I know it feels so good,” he coos and kisses behind your ear.

More incoherent words fall from your mouth. He sucks love bites into your neck, and you tilt your head back, craving more of that feeling. The dream version of him began mimicking the actions of the real Leon as you neared waking.

Whining louder, your fingers dig into the smooth fur of your plush bunny before letting it go. He nips at the sensitive skin of your throat as his fingers travel down and push inside your heat.

The feeling rips a moan from you and causes your eyes to open. Your back arches as he works them deeper. Your hips wriggle a little as you make sense of what’s happening.

“Leon?” you whimper. Your sleepy eyes struggle to stay open after being torn from the fog of sleep.

“That’s right, baby. It’s just me. You were having some nice dreams, weren’t you, pretty girl?” he says.

“Mhm,” you hum mindlessly.

“About me?” he teases, eyes watching your body fidget with the pleasure you felt.

“About you,” you confirm before he leans down and kisses your lips. They were so soft against his own. He slowly moves his mouth with yours and languidly slides his tongue against yours.

You moan into the kiss as his fingers curl within you and hit your favorite spot. Your feet lightly kick at the sensation. Your hips rise a little as you feel the flood gates holding your release about to break.

You’re too sleepy to tell him out right, but he knows the signs. He keeps working you there until your body seizes and arches off the bed. You let out a throaty moan and turn your head to bury your face against his shoulder.

“There you go. Let it all out, sweetheart,” he whispers and kisses your head.

You ride out the high on his hand, and by the time you’re done, you’re ready to fall asleep again. Your mind is hazy with the fog of release. You’re drifting off as your body settles without even realizing it.

You’re only yanked back to reality by Leon scooping you up into his lap. He’s sitting with his back to the headboard, and he situates you between his thighs, back against his chest. His arms keep you caged in nice and close, safe and warm.

“Don’t fall asleep again just yet, babydoll,” he murmurs while kissing up your neck.

Your head lolls back against his shoulder. The fight to stay awake gets a little easier as his hand returns to your soaked panties. He doesn’t tease this time, just slides in two fingers and starts moving them in and out.

The new angle makes you squirm and whine, but he holds you tight in place with his free arm.

“Gotta work you open, honey. Can’t just slide my dick in you with no warm up,” he says with a smirk.

His voice pulls you towards lucidity a little more. Your hands wrap around his free arm for support while your hips instinctively roll into his blissful touch.

“I missed you,” you choke out between gasps and whimpers.

“I know you did,” he teases, grinning against your throat. His cock throbs against the small of your back as his ears latch onto the sound of your slick around his fingers. “Came home to cuddle with my sweet girl, and I find her having such dirty dreams.”

Your cheeks heat up as you start to piece together what had happened. You fully realize now that your escapade on the kitchen table was entirely in your mind. You feel embarrassed for a moment, but the feeling dies pretty quick as you rapidly approach the edge for a second time.

“Not my fault,” you whimper shyly.

He chuckles and kisses your temple once more. “I know it’s not. If anything, it’s mine. I think I’ve been neglecting my baby,” he says with a mocking lilt in his voice.

You cry out as his fingers brush against those same spots that brought you to the finish last time. Your hips twitch, and you grip his thighs as your peak rises within you. Moments later your cumming all over his fingers, sucking in a harsh breath as a second release courses through you, even more intense then the last.

His free arm keeps you secure against his chest while rubbing your side soothingly. The heel of his other palm roughly massages your clit as his fingers pump in and out.

“Good girl,” he coos, “That’s it, just one more and then I can put you to sleep how you deserve.”

As soon as you seem to be coming down, Leon lifts you up again, tugging your clothes off and moving your body around like a doll to get you in the position he wants. You were definitely more pliant after two orgasms, but you could also see how his training had been paying off. Maybe this new job wasn’t all bad.

He has you on your back now, thighs against your chest and knees hooked over his arms. Again, he had no patience to tease right now, so after pushing his sweats down to mid thigh, he takes his cock and slides it in you with no hesitation. He groans as your hole takes him in, your walls pulsing around him even after he bottoms out.

“So wet. I can just slide right in,” he mumbles as his own hips twitch.

Your eyes droop at the stretch. It always felt so satisfying, having him buried balls deep in you. As close as he could possibly be. No fear of him leaving or pain of being separated. You whine and reach up to pull him closer.

He follows along and rests his face against your neck as he begins thrusting. You hear him panting right in your ear. His hands grip your hips so hard you know there’ll be marks.

“Perfect pussy’s made for me,” he grunts while snapping his hips, “Miss it every second I’m not inside it.”

You nod lazily as you continue to clamp down around him. After two releases, you didn’t even feel a building ecstasy anymore, just a constant stream of pleasure.

“Leon,” you whine, “Harder. Wanna feel it.”

He moans at your plea but indulges you, grabbing you harder, pressing your legs higher, filling you deeper.

“Wanna be sore after, don’t you, sweetheart? Want a reminder of me while I’m at work. Something to tide you over till I can do this again. Won’t have to rely on dreams then, right?” he says.

“Yeah,” you whimper. Your bed creaks as he picks up the pace, but your moans mask the sound as they grow in volume.

He fucks into you over and over, stoking the flames within himself, trying to build to that explosion. You were so tight, so warm. He hums another low moan and whimpers softly as he feels it right there. He gasps softly before holding you tighter and muttering in your ear.

“Ready for another one, honey? Gonna be the last one and then we’ll get you comfy and off to sleep.”

“Yeah,” you moan again, unable to say much else.

“Good… good girl,” he moans before his hips buck wildly and he finally releases.

You finish for a third time. You cling to him tight as the euphoria washes over you again. Locking your legs around his hips, you keep your face pressed to the warm skin of his neck as it goes through you. You feel the hot flood of cum he fucks into you. His chest is heaving now too as he recovers from the high.

He stays on top of you for a moment before pulling out. You cling harder upon losing that full feeling. He smiles at your desire to be close to him and gives you one more kiss before sitting up.

“So sweet to me, baby. I hope that made up for the late night,” he whispers and strokes your hair.

“It did,” you say with a nod. Your eyes were already shutting again, ready to go back to sleep after being fucked so good.

He looks at you with all the love in the world as he pulls his sweats up. He then helps you pull your panties and shirt back on, trying to laugh at your sleepy, half-assed movements.

After that, he gets you all tucked in next to him, snuggled up in his arms like he originally intended. He even grabs that stuffed bunny he got you and fits it close to you in case you want it.

“Get some rest, honey. You need it,” he whispers while rubbing your back.

“Mhm,” you respond tiredly, “You too. You’re all mine for the weekend, and I don’t want you tired out the whole time.”

“Alright, but I’m gonna be tired out if we do some more of that again tomorrow,” he jokes. He pulls you close to him and shuts his eyes, nestling his head against yours and settling in to rest.

That puts a smile on your face and you nuzzle him once more before letting yourself fall asleep for the night.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #resident evil imagines #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil smut #smut #kenny fic <3 #ch: leon kennedy 💌

2K notes · View notes