#season 4 table sex lets go | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherry-leclerc · 1 month

Text

star-crossed ☆ mv1

genre: angst, fluff, humor, lots of back and forth, smut

word count: 9.1k

Fixated, you and Max struggle to stay away from one another. All the while, everyone tries to convince you that it won't ever work out.

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+...penetrative sex, fingering

inspired by this !

cherry here!...as a wise person once told me: footnotes = crumbs. hope that helps!! enjoy :)

The table was long, practically going for miles, but not really—it was just your closest friends. They all converse with one another, talking about the upcoming season, the upcoming season, and oh, what’s that? The upcoming season. And you’ve had enough of it, he can tell, so he gently rubs his thumb over your hand, easing your nervous tick.

White florals lay neatly on the wooden top, fairy lights hang up above your heads, and Frank Sinatra plays from your fiancé’s phone, connected to the Bluetooth.

Pierre stands up firmly, clinking his glass with a spoon. When it doesn’t seem to get anyones attention, Alex lets out a loud whistle. Everyone’s heads turn. “Merde—finally. Well, first of all, welcome on behalf of the groom's best man!” Crickets. His smile drops. “I-Its me. I’m the best man.”

“More like Best Party Killer. Sit down,” Daniel yells, aiming a peony at his friend's head.

The Frenchman swats it away, to which Kika glares as it hits her. He nervously chuckles, pecking her cheek, swiftly. “Comme je le disais…we’re here to celebrate two very important people. Can ya take a guess?”

“Why did you choose Pierre as your best man again?” you whisper to the twenty-six year old. He shrugs, hushing you once before his watercolor eyes flicker back to his friend.

“Any more guesses?”

“Okay, thank you!” you yelp, standing up and motioning him down. “Thank you, Pierre, for saying a whole lot of nothing, really.”

The blue eyed boy silently pleads, hands pressed together in prayer. “Oui, oui, I’m done, I’m done.” A warm hand snakes to wrap around your wrist and you sigh, sitting back down onto his lap. He clears his throat. “I thought we could go around and…share some stories about the soon-to-be husband and wife. I’ll start.”

“Great,” Kika groans, massaging her temples.

“September 4, 2022.”

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“You said it would be warm!”

Lissie squeals when you reach out to pinch her forearm. “I said slightly warm. More so cool.” A harsh glare. She winces. “Yeah. Sorry about that.”

Despite the evident goosebumps, you march your way over to the pen, awaiting your first interview. Lissie stands besides you, raising two thumbs up and a toothy grin. You got this! Your stomach churns as you fix your set up. She’s right, you’ve worked for this moment, day and night. You weren't going to mess up for any reas—

“Should I just come back later or…”

Blinking, your heart stops beating as your mouth runs completely dry. He looks around for his publicist who just sighs and starts tugging him away.

And we’re here with Max Verstappen, Lissie hisses—assisists. Coughing loudly, you bring up the microphone to your lips. “Max Verstappen!” The RedBull driver turns back to face you, clearly puzzled. You cringe at your sudden outburst, but continue. “So nice to see you. Saw you had a magnificent drive.”

Blue eyes pierce basically through your soul. He smiles, shoulders relaxing, hands leaning against the barrier. “Yeah. We did have a lot of luck on our side today. Plenty.”

It wasn’t that hard to pick up from there, question after question being basically given to you, to which he answers with professional ease. His dimples even pop out with every punctuation, it makes your chest swell. You clear your throat, eyes flickering to your list that now narrows down to one last inquiry.

“Everyone nowadays fears you, it seems like.” He laughs, rolling his eyes. “But I do have one question—how does it feel to be the villain in all of Formula One?”

His smile slips away. “Sorry?”

“Uh-oh,” Lissie mutters.

But you don’t catch onto it, his sudden defensive tone, his dark glare. Beaming like the sun on the earth, you nod. “Well you aren’t the most liked, per se. Often hated by others. Do you think your dominance has affected your relationship with the drivers on the grid?”

When you finally look up, you clearly notice his change in demeanor, and that makes you flinch. We should get going, his publicist squeaks, already pushing him away. Let’s not air that last question, thank you.

Fiercely, you turn to face your friend. “I still had a minute left!”

“Why would you say that?” she screeches. “Why, why, why?”

You blink. “I’m lost. What did I do wrong?”

The brunette sighs, brown orbs analyzing the short clip. “You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what.”

“Their relationship had started rather…rocky,” Pierre announces, swaying his hands back and forth for emphasis. “But don’t you worry! I. Fixed. Everything.”

“She really said that?”

Max whips his head to Checo, then to Yuki, then to Pierre. Each wears a loopy smile. He scowls. “She’s new here, she must be—I’ve never seen her before. Who does she think she is?”

“A legend, that’s who,” the Frenchman retorts, almost high and mighty.

Max takes a long sip of his energy drink before scoffing. “I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

A few hours have now rolled by and you’ve finally realized—you messed up. Here you go, basically painting him out to be the bad guy, when really, he’s just a strong driver. No one thinks he’s a villain, you think he’s a villain.

“You think he’s going to protest against me? Get me fired? Boycott? Hates me?”

Lissie giggles, tidying up the equipment from the last round. “No. No. No. Maybe?”

Groaning, you hit your forehead over and over again with your clipboard before a sharp accent makes you stop. “Hello.”

“Oh! Hi!”

His lips stretch, then steps closer to you. “I’m Pierre—”

“I know who you are,” you cut him off. “It’s so nice to meet you. I’m—”

“New?”

Your cheeks burn up at his accuracy. “Yes?”

“I thought so,” he pronounced with a goofy grin. Annoyance builds up inside of you but hold back and bite your tongue. The Frenchman fixes his sunglasses that lay on the bridge of his nose. “So…I’m going to take the chance and say that what you asked wasn’t meant to hurt his feelings?”

You soften up quickly. “I hurt his feelings?”

A nose scrunch. “Let me backtrack; Max doesn’t have feelings, therefore there’s nothing to hurt, but he does hold killer grudges, so yeah.” He lifts the frames. “He doesn’t like you.”

“Lovely,” Lissie mumbles from her spot besides you. “Is there a way…we…can fix all this misunderstanding? Because that’s what this is! A misunderstanding!”

The Alpha Tauri driver clicks his tongue in deep thought. “There’s not much to do other than apologize. Explain yourselves, maybe? He’s very Old-Fashioned.”

“Okay, yes.” You scurry down the paddock. “I could do that! I could so do that.”

“Other way!” he yells. Turning around, you see him pointing you down to the right. You giggle, nervously, and continue your sprint.

You catch him quite fast; his tall stature and blond hair are pretty easy to spot. “Hey—hi!” Gasping for air, you clutch onto your side. “H-hello. Again.”

His jaw ticks once, and in an eerie motion, a warm smile forms. You shudder. “Yes?”

“I just wanted to apologize about before. That was not the right thing to say, I am so sorry…please don’t demand for my release.”

A dark brow quirks up, looks around, then back down to you. “I’m not here to ruin your life, you’ve got nothing to worry about.”

You sigh in relief. “God. Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

Crouching down to you, he tilts his head to the side with a sly grin. “You’re very welcome, but that doesn’t mean I like you.”

Your breath hitches, shivers spreading like a wildfire. “Sorry?”

“Yeah.” He steps away. “You already said that.”

“He was a bit guarded. Definitely guarded.”

“Isn’t this supposed to make me look good?” your fiancé grunts, dark eyes narrowing down on the Frenchman. “You know what? Just sit down.”

Pierre smirks. “See? Guarded.”

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“I’m not a quitter.”

“There we go!”

“But he makes me want to quit.” “Oh, well now we’re back to square one,” Pierre groans. “He’s being hard headed, that’s all. I’ll talk to him again, don’t worry.”

And he does.

It happens during one of the worst moments in your life; you weren’t wearing makeup.

“You look—”

“Hideous?” You blush. “Yeah, don’t even mention it.”

He swallows, digging his hands deep into his pockets. “I wanted to apologize… for the way I reacted. It was immature.”

“N-no, you had every right to be upset. I crossed the line and I’m sorry.”

Max nods, Adam’s Apple dancing up, then down. “Truce?”

Staring down at his large hand, you smile and slip yours past it. “Truce.”

And as a rare occasion, his smile meets his eyes, crinkles and all. The RedBull driver disconnects first, then rubs his jaw once before signaling down to your wet hair. “Pool day, I see? Enjoying the benefits?”

With a cheesy look, you shrug. “It’s one way to relieve stress.”

“Yeah—and what’s another?”

His tone is sultry and irresistible, you can’t help but rip your gaze away. “Anything that brings thrill, I suppose.” A tick. “Whatever that may be.”

“And what if it’s something bad? Does that still count?”

You laugh, throwing your head back. The Dutchman’s lips wobble as a weak attempt to not smile. “You’re not a bad person, so yes.”

His tongue clicks. “Uh, I don't know. As I recall, you called me a villain?”

Groaning, you gently smack his chest. “Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

Just as you’re about to respond, your phone rings and you smile. “L-Lissie.”

The blue eyed boy nods. “Are you going to be interviewing me from now on?”

“Ah—is my ban lifted?”

“Yes.”

You roll your eyes. “Then yes.” Strolling past him, you wave. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

“Where are you even going with any of this?” Lewis hollers from the end of the table, taking a sip of wine. “You’ve just been talking about yourself, not them.”

Pierre scowls. “I’m getting there!” He returns his attention to the couple, gleaming. “So, as you can imagine, once I weaseled my way in and fixed their problems—your welcome, by the way—a certain spark came through. It was clearly evident.”

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“Nepo-Baby?”

You hum. “They all are.”

Lissie groans. “So how will I know which one?”

“Oh, you’ll know.” Squinting accusingly, the British girl sticks her tongue out before standing up, hands on her hips. She yawns. “I have to go find Will. Something about—whatever, you probably don’t even care.”

You giggle. “Nope. Have fun.”

Silence engulfs you as you close your eyes momentarily, pulling your coat over your chest.

“Don’t you have to watch the race in order to report back on it? Ask questions?”

“Dude, I was just falling asleep…” You peek an eye open. “And yes. But it hasn’t started, so I'm clear.”

Max whistles, unimpressed. Falling down next to you on the fluffy couch, he places his hands over his stomach, closing his eyes, too. You try not to laugh and instead do the same.

“Haven’t seen you around much.”

“Been hiding from you.”

“Seems like. Don’t do that.”

“Fine.” You grin, sitting up straight. “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

“Probably.”

You snicker, pink tongue poking from in between your teeth. The cold air makes you snuggle deeper into your wannabe-blanket and he can’t help but take occasional glances. Teeth chatter. “C’mon. I’ll walk you.”

“...and I turned and said, isn’t that Celine Dion?” Lissie waves her hands back and forth, swaying like a Fly Guy. She pouts, stopping her movements. “Turns out I was just really freaking high.” Will laughs, jotting down God knows what onto a piece of paper as she continues cluttering herself with an obnoxious amount of wires. The British girl huffs. “Y’know, sometimes I wonder if it was—” A sharp gasp. “Him? Oh my—it’s him!”

“Don’t you mean her?” Will hums from his spot, still not looking up.

But wide-eyed Lissie stares with her jaw on the floor as you and Max cross by, laughing and pushing each other as you make your way down the paddock. As soon as you blush when he winks, it becomes all the more real. The young reporter nods, curled hair bobbing up and down.

“R-right—her.”

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“Is he cute? Yeah, maybe.” A finger pinches her top lip before releasing. “In a weird way.”

“Hey,” you warn.

“Is he your type? Don’t know why, but yes. I could see why you’re into him.”

“Great…”

“But is he the right choice? No. Not at all.”

“...and fantastic.” Flopping down onto your towel, you groan. Suddenly the blazing sun wasn’t the worst feeling because Lissie was right. It’s unbearable, almost. You prop up, facing her with a scrunched nose and squinted eyes. “Don’t you think you’re being a bit too harsh?”

“Oh no.” A sip of coconut water. She purses her lips. “God no.” You sigh, slowly, then sprawl back down with a sour snarl. You can hear her debate; muttering, mumbling. Still, that doesn’t get rid of your bad mood. The brunette pokes your thigh gently, nibbling her bottom lip. “He’s just so—and you’re just so—” A beat. “I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah.” Waves crash harder. Sun beams brighter. You open up the bottle of sunscreen, spurting some onto your burnt legs. You rub briskly; up, down. She flinches. “Yeah, I know.”

“And for a while, that was that,” Pierre announces, feigning indifference. “No more love birds.”

“Oh,” George blurts. Dark brows pinch up, teasing smile playing out. “Then why are we here?”

“Oh God,” you groan, digging your face into the nape of the twenty-six year old. You can faintly sniff out his musk scent, clean and so him. It makes you smile like a teen. “What if we just elope?”

He chuckles, vibrating and sending you on your own personal rollercoaster. “We always can. Is that what you want?” And he asks because he knows—no. That’s not what you want. Separating yourself to peck his cheek, you shake your head with a playful pout. “No. That’s not what I want.”

“Good.” Watercolor eyes flicker to where Pierre finally gets yanked down and Lissie takes over with a proud smile. “Because I think this is actually going somewhere.”

Bahrain International Circuit—-March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

So you kept your distance, and oddly enough, he did too. For plenty of reasons. And it wasn’t even that hard, really. He spent his summer break traveling and you spent yours as a homebody. No texts, no calls, no nothing.

“Heads or tails?”

“Tails.”

A sly grin. The silver coins flips a couple rounds before jumping up and down, clapping. “Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

“You’re going to get a sugar high and not be able to sleep later.”

“Until I can feel my teeth rot,” you retort, slipping your tongue over your pearly whites.

Answering a few emails, you perch onto a chair. It’s too stiff, so you twist and turn until you ultimately decide to just stand. A gust of wind salutes you as your orbs flicker up to the sudden shadow. A breath catches.

Max tilts his head in greeting. “Working hard already?” Your lips part. “The season’s barely begun.”

And just like that, your world tilts on its axis, but this time with more to lose.

“As your best friend—” Lissie points clumsily at Carmen who giggles while the British girl furrows her thick brows. She glances around before spotting you dying with laughter on your fiancé’s lap. She claps. “I knew straight away—he was the one for you.”

Miami International Autodrome—-May 7, 2023 (Miami Grand Prix)

“How long has this been going on for?” she hisses, disappointed eyes challenging both you and Max. She gags at the hickeys on your neck and his tousled hair.

With wobbly legs, you take her hands into yours. “A week—”

“No.”

“Well, two—”

Green paints her face. “No.”

“One month,” he murmurs from his corner in the elevator. Watercolor eyes flicker up, loopy. “It’s been a month. Ever since—”

“Azerbaijan.” Shamefully, you look down at your shoes and nearly scream bloody murder when you spot your thong just a few steps behind her. “Ew, gross,” Lissie gasps, shutting her eyes in despair. Taking in the opportunity, you scatter down and retrieve the thin fabric. The Dutchman releases a laugh, but bites down when the British girl glares hard. She curls a brow at your breathless state. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Giggling nervously from your place on the floor, you keep your hands behind your back; out of sight, out of mind. “Begging for forgiveness?”

“Oh stop it, a piece of land is what I need in order to forgive you for being dumb as shit.”

You frown, but quickly stand up when she exits the elevator. You can hear him follow with a bored expression. “Lissie, wait!”

Like a spinning top, she turns back, long layers slapping her pink face. “You two know this isn’t a good idea, right?”

“Yes—”

“For a million different reasons—”

“I-I’m aware,” you stutter.

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers.

And the truth is, you don’t know. All you know is that nothing else matters when you're with him. It��s sickening how blindsighted you get. Anxious eyes twirl over to the blue eyed boy who shared the same expression despite being unbothered a few seconds ago.

Licking your lips, you play with the fabric. “That’s it. We’re done.” You turn to the RedBull driver. “Tell her.”

“Done.”

For a moment, you almost let yourself flinch from how fast and easy he’s able to say that one word. Lissie’s judgmental eyes look at you, then him, then sighs, reluctantly nodding. An awkward moment ticks by and then she’s focused, appalled.

“Are those your panties?”

“You were like a dog who couldn’t bear the idea of leaving its bone.” Everyone snickers while you throw the same peony Daniel had aimed at Pierre to shut him up. She laughs, raising her arms up in defense. “And I know—I know—I came in like a monster, warning you off of all the drivers because like it or not, they’re scumbags—”

“Ey. Watch it,” Carlos deadpans from the corner, brown eyes playfully glaring.

She shrugs. “But I no longer liked playing the role of an evil step-sister so…” Tears brim and you choke on a wet sob. “I’m just so happy that you’re happy.” A pause. “That you're both happy.”

Leaping off his thick lap, you rush over, embracing her. She laughs, returning the gesture. “I love you,” you start. I know. “And I’m so happy that you never—”

A knowing smile. “I’d do anything for you.”

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

Sneaking into his motorhome, you moan as soon as he gets his hands on your; sliding up and down your body with urgency. Heat radiates off of him and onto you. All of this— the cramped room, his lips attacking your neck—makes you dizzy. Clutching onto his sweaty hair, you arch, completely to him and for him.

“We s-shouldn’t.” You gasp. Long fingers tease your aching pussy as you whine. He instantly slaps a large hand over your mouth as he continues his movements. The stretch burns, but it's fairly familiar that you don’t even cry out, just stare back with knitted brows and an open mouth that he can’t see, but can feel expand beneath his palm.

“You’re probably right.” A steady stroke. “You should be out there.” His knuckles curl as he reaches your g-spot. “Preparing those foolish questions.” A muffled moan. “But you’re here, because you know that this excites you as much as it does me.”

Calloused pads push down before drawing figure eights deep inside. “You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be—”

“No,” you cut him off. “Don’t even try and blame it on—”

“Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?”

Feeling your orgasm rolling in is one thing, but your snarkiness is another. Gritting your teeth, you force him down to kiss you, teeth and all, and then rip away with a sultry smile. “Maybe, but who cares?”

You’re not completely off. At that moment in time, neither of you cared about the consequences. It’s just that as soon as a room of watchful eyes flicker to you two, you swallow a low wince.

Grabbing your microphone, you fix your disheveled hair. Lissie’s eyes flicker between you and him, slow and scary. Like she’s reading right through you and your lies.

Beaming at the awaiting grid, you raise your chin up. “Who’s ready?”

“Finally,” Daniel yells, rolling his cuffed sleeves. “Someone with an actual story to tell.” A wide smile has never made you more nervous than at this very instant, so reasonably so, you swallow the entire glass of—

“Vodka, baby! That was my vodka—your champagne is right there.”

Blinking, you giggle, wiping your plump lips with the back of your hand. “What yours is mine, no? Isn’t that what marriage is all about?”

He chuckles. Lean arms wrap around your waist like a harness. “Keep this up and you’re not going to be able to sleep later.”

“The opposite, actually,” you state as a matter-of-fact. “Just need to get blackout drunk.”

He cocks his head to the side. “That’s not like you.” “...should have seen her! She was wasted as shit!” the Australian yelps, buzzing with excitement. You nip at the air all while he raises his voice an additional octave. “I found her there, at the bar, close to getting alcohol poisoning, but you know what they say—only drunks and children tell the truth.”

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Oui, the beer! Fucking amazing,” Pierre declares with a mouthful.

“Say it, don’t spray it,” someone screeches, and is quickly identified to be Alex when he wipes his shimmery forehead. You laugh, taking baby sips from your drink. Shirley Temple, because contrary to belief, you weren’t a nasty drunk.

The Frenchman pouts, tapping his fingers against the brown glass. He turns to you with a sheepish grin. “I read your article.”

“Yeah?”

He nods. “Have to admit, it's kind of boring. It’s not your fault though. Max Verstappen's domination has made the sport sort of…” He pretends to wilt, to which you toss your head back with laughter.

“Your time will come, Pierre, your time will come.”

“Shit, shit, shit! Bathroom!” Lissie’s long legs wobble like a plate of jello as you hurry over to catch her.

“Crap—you smell like shit.”

The British girl squeals, yanking her hair, dancing from side to side. “I smoked a fat blunt, but never mind that, if I don’t find a loo in approximately five seconds, then I will smell like actual shit.”

A nose scrunch. “That’s not very lady-like.” She paces some more. “Let’s go.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the crowded room, Max watches as the two journalists slip away. He keeps a close eye for a while until a certain brunette swoops in right next to him with a loopy grin and crinkly eyes.

“You should talk to her. Seems like you really like her.”

“What? What makes you say that? What makes you think that?”

Daniel shrugs, rotating his blunt back into his mouth. “Dilation.”

The Dutchman gags. “What…like when a woman gives birth?”

A sore laugh. “As in your eyes.” Another hit. “Y’know…they just look—different. When you look at her, I mean.”

And he hopes it is not apparent that these words make him swallow. For the past year, he’s tried his best to hide his feelings for the sake of not making a fool out of himself, and later for a whole other, but…

He licks his sudden dry lips. “Hm. Doesn’t matter if my eyes fucking shine or not, she’s not my type.”

The Australian frowns. “Sucks. Lissie’s really cool.” His eyes flicker over to the RedBull driver in a nonchalant manner, but when he blinks back with rose tinted cheeks, despite not having a sip of alcohol, he chokes on his puff. “Oh shit, no…”

In a flash, Max yanks the blunt away, dipping it into an anonymous drink. “You’re right, she is so cool—”

Brown eyes narrow down in accusation, brows knitted sharply. “Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie…” A wince. “Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.”

And just like that, Daniel notices the blown out pupils revert back to its original shape. Small and empty. “Yeah. Of course.” He plops back down onto his stiff seat, rubs his eyes, then smiles. “I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.”

“He—” Daniel points over to the broad twenty-six year old who sits with a timid smile. “...didn't have a single sip of beer that night because he was too focused looking after her.” A whistle. “And if that isn’t love, then I don’t know what is.”

“Wow, congrats,” George says to your fiancé. “For not being an alcoholic, really, that's impressive.” You can hear the humor that coats his voice and you can’t help but giggle. Calloused fingers slip up to pinch your thigh as you laugh harder.

“That’s why I drank twice as much that day,” Pierre announces with a firm voice. “Because he was missing out on some fantastic beer.”

“Drunkard,” Alex whispers to Lily who stifles a snicker.

The tall Australian clicks his tongue. “So who was the wasted one who confessed their little white lies?”

Everyone’s eyes turn to face you as you burn up with mortification.

“What the fuck, I barely even drink!”

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“You.”

“Me?”

You snarl, stomping over. “She's a lightweight, dumbass. Why would you get her high? Jesus, we have a flight in eight hours.”

Daniel cackles, clapping as if delighted at the fact. “She kept insisting! I felt bad.”

An eye roll. “Douche.”

He tries to make it up to you with a drink. “Pierre says they’re good.” You eye the bottle hesitantly. He sighs. “Come on, trust me.” He eventually sneaks off for a minute, but returns with a new blunt.

“Did you pull another one out of your ass or where did you get that from?”

“Oh no. How many did you drink?”

Squinting, you motion him to take a seat. He does, but he can’t even smoke in peace now that you sway from side to side, despite being seated. “I don’t know. Too many.” He groans, large hands tugging his hair. You take a long sip, then raise your glass like some wannabe. “He told me he loves me. Tonight. Right when you left. And you know what I told him?” Another sip. “I told him I love him too.”

The Australian chuckles. “I didn’t expect you to fall for someone like him.”

“Me either. But I fell—tumbled.” You frown. “I’m just not sure this is the right thing to feel, y’know?”

His orbs flicker to the twenty-six year old who huddles with a bunch of the other drivers. He smiles, tilting his head. “Why not?”

“Because everytime I look at him, I fear the way my heart beats. He laughs, I laugh, and it feels wrong. He smiles, I smile, and it feels wrong. He makes one of our inside jokes, I understand, and it feels wrong.” A shaky laugh. “And something that should feel fucking right, doesn’t.” Glossy eyes switch over to him. “Does that make sense?”

“Not really.”

“Great,” you let out, wiping your tears away. “It’s fine, I didn’t expect you to understand.”

Daniel smiles, fondly, like an older brother. “It doesn’t, and you want to know why?”

“Why?”

A second passes by before he leans back against his chair. “Because it looks like you really—really—like him, so why should any of that matter? Just let yourself be happy, fuck everything else.”

You scoff, furrowing your brows. “You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” Almost robotically, he drops his blunt into your beer bottle. “You can’t…”

“Yeah. I know.” A pause. “Beer’s ass, by the way.”

Daniel taps his fingers against his chin, comedically. His orbs flicker between you two who stare up at him in deep focus, awaiting for his next words. He grins. “You two, it works. It always has.”

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“Oh fuck,” he grunts, thrusting into you harder as you cling onto his arm, eyes screwed shut. “H-holy fucking—hell.”

You moan, mouth hung wide open. “Feel so good, Maxie, so, so good.”

Blue eyes admire the way you arch towards him like some sort of warm invitation. The way your legs lazily drape over his sweaty waist, how your scent hugs him like no one else. It’s all so familiar, and nice, and right. Your soft palm grazing his jaw makes him alert in an instant, desperate to not miss a single thing that lives inside this moment.

He furrows his dark brows. “We-We’re not made for one another.”

“I know.” He grunts, animalistically. “They warned me about you.”

“They told me to stay away from you.” His tip brushes against your g-spot and your head lolls back, a loud sound. “But God, it’s been impossible.”

“Max, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck—I’m close.”

He grins, rubs your clit, and whimpers when he feels you reach your orgasm. You shudder when he follows soon after, face digging into the nape of your neck. Your heart pounds like a ticking time bomb, but still, you run your fingers through his dirty blond waves.

“Lissie…Daniel…they’re—”

“Right?” You choke up. “Yeah, you don’t know how much I hate that they are.”

He pulls away, and somehow, his watercolor eyes appear more blue than ever before. Black, almost—nearly. And you’re sure yours do too.

Max plays with your hair, tracing it like a map. He gulps. “So do I.” A tug. “I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

A wet laugh. “I love you, too.” Wobbly smile. “And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

He hums. “What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

“I know many of you guys are wondering why I’m best man—”

“Not wondering, more like questioning,” Carlos quips with a sly smirk.

Pierre flips him off and you laugh at the immature interaction between the drivers. “Because it really could have easily been anyone else. Ha! Even you Carlos.” The Spaniard mocks him with a shady, playful, look.

“Then again, who would have thrown a better rehearsal dinner for Charles and his bride-to-be?”

Circuit Zandvoort—September 4, 2022 (Dutch Grand Prix)

"You got on Max Verstappen’s bad side, that’s what."

“It’s probably nothing or he’s just a sensitive little pussy,” you shoot back defensively.

Lissie snickers, hushing you, orbs scanning the pen. “You can’t say shit like that! Any of it, actually,” she adds. “Just…think before saying anything.”

You huff, arms crossed, stubbornly. “Fine.”

As the open area starts filling up more and more, by some miracle, your nerves start dying down.

Or so you thought.

“Before I let you go, I do have one more question.” Charles smiles down at you, shy dimples poking through. You return the gesture. “Would you consider yourself Ferrari’s savior or their scapegoat?”

“Jesus,” the British girl groans, covering her eyes with second-hand embarrassment.

The Monegasque lets out a nervous laugh, turning to face his publicist who simply tippy toes and whispers something into his ear. He nods. “I-I-I actually have another interview set up, but thank you for your…questions.” Pink tints his ears as he looks at you one more time before strolling away.

“Alrighty then,” Lissie hollers. She sneaks the microphone away. “Jitters, totally normal, but yeah, you’re done for today.”

“I don’t care if she’s royalty, I’m never willingly doing an interview with her ever again.”

“Would you look at that?” Pierre gloats with a wicked grin. “Max Verstappen got butthurt.”

The Dutchman scoffs. “No, I did not. I just don’t like stupid questions, and she made one.”

Yuki snickers at his wary response. Pierre rolls his eyes. “I could talk to her, if you want me to. I love shit like this.”

“I don’t.”

“Well too bad, I’m going to.”

“Yeah. You already said that.”

Dumbfounded, you blink as he walks away, wet towel draped over his head. If you had known he was this much of a shithead, then you wouldn’t have bothered to try and apologize. Clicking your tongue, you burn with fury as you glare, but as soon as the Ferrari driver brushes past you, you fall back from your trance.

“Hey!”

He turns, green eyes furrowed with confusion. “Hey.”

A wince. “I’m sorry about my ignorant question from earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

Charles blushes. “Am I that easy to read?”

“No, but Pierre let me know.” You awkwardly kick your shoe against the pavement and his eyes follow. You stop. “I sort of pissed off two of the most important drivers on the grid today. You, uh, just happen to be one of them.”

He softens like ice cream on a hot summer day. “I’m not pissed.” You almost let out a giggle from how foreign his accent makes the curse sound. He stammers. “You just caught me off guard, that’s all. Plus, I can’t answer questions like those. It would make all of us look bad.”

“Oh. Duh. Of course.” Now you burn up. “I should have known. And it’s no excuse, but I’m new and I’m just…figuring it out.”

His eyes crinkle as he nods. “Who was the other driver?”

You groan. “Max.”

He winces, shaking his hands, theatrically. “Yikes. Yeah, now he’s probably pissed.”

Autodromo Nazionale Monza—September 11, 2022 (Italian Grand Prix)

“Will you ever let it go?”

“Might take me a while…”

As soon as your phone dings, vibrating against your palm, he curls a brow. “L-Lissie,” you fill in with a subtle smile. “See you around. And put on some sunscreen. It’s good for you.”

Rushing back to the pool with a new bottle of SPF, you grin as he aims a deadpan expression. “A little Vitamin D is always necessary.”

“Don’t care, I don’t want to look like a peanut in two years.” You plop some onto his hand as he childishly swipes it over his face. You squirm with the way droplets slither down his toned chest.

Charles extends his hands. “Can I have some more?”

You laugh, wet hair tossing back like a curtain. “Hypocrite.”

Green eyes glare down, playfully.

Marina Bay Street Circuit—October 2, 2022 (Singapore Grand Prix)

“I can’t believe someone’s rocking your boat,” Lissie yelps, clutching onto your hand desperately. “This is monumental.” A teasing giggle. “We should definitely document this.”

As soon as she pulls out her phone, you flip her off. “And this, my dear, dear friend, is why I’ve been keeping this a secret.” She zooms in as you laugh, brushing her away. “Quit!”

The British girl groans, slipping it into her back pocket, then wiggles her thick brows. “Can I guess who it is?”

“No.”

“It’ll be fun!”

You spin around. “No, Lissie—no.”

“Nepo-Baby?”

Flustered, you twirl your necklace and hum. “They all are.”

“Fucking hell. So how will I know which one?”

A mocking laugh. “Oh, you’ll know.”

The brunette stays wondering despite being in the middle of telling her story from last week at the pub. She traces back to every possible driver, but they’re all natural flirts, so fuck that, how would she ever even be able to guess that—

“Oh my—it’s him!” She gasps with hawk eyes as she watches you two keep a careful distance from one another, as if temptation burns within the gap. Lissie lets out a delirious laugh as she turns to Will, who is still rather focused on his task. “I, um, will be right back!”

Wearing a goofy smile, you make your way back to the pen, but squeal when a firm grip wraps around your waist, tugging you into a cramped bathroom. You cringe at the suffocated smell. On the other hand, Lissie jumps from corner to corner. “How did I not notice? I mean, shit, you’re eyes—they’re huge!”

You frown. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

With a toothy grin, she pokes your ribs. “It means I know who it is.”

Your heart stops, then bite the inside of your cheek, feigning indifference. “We’re just getting to know each other, but he’s really kind, and I…I really like him.”

“Oh, I bet you do,” she whispers in a seductive manner, jeweled hands slapping your ass. You chuckle, opening the door, and turning back. “You get lost in his eyes, don’t you? Heard that could happen.” A swoon. “So what? Are they like the ocean? Like a blueberry Laffy Taffy?”

“Hm. No. More like green apple.”

She halts, mid-shimmy. “What do you mean green? His eyes are blue. And I would know—they scare me half of the time.”

“What are you talking about? Charles’ eyes are green.” The brunette gapes, mouth hung wide open as she pushes herself to speak, but can’t find the strength. You knit your brows, neat and high. “I told you not to scroll through your phone at three a.m. anymore. See? Jet lag is catching up to you.”

Autódromo José Carlos Pace—November 13, 2022 (Brazilian Grand Prix)

“I’m just looking out for you.”

“Yeah, I know.” Tired eyes squint over at the blue waves, then at the kids who build sandcastles.

She sighs, propping herself to face you with a sorrowful smile. “It’s okay to be confused about your feelings.”

“You don’t have to sugarcoat it, I know its as bad as it sounds.” You raise your straw onto your plump lips, sucking. “But they’re just so different from one another. I mean, Charles makes me feel giddy. Like really giddy. It’s nauseating. He’s sweet, and caring, and he's snappy but it’s endearing.” A soft smile and dreamy eyes. “He even helps with my notes.”

“But Max…he’s hot tempered. It drives me nuts. He never asks for help and always hides behind some brick wall. It isn’t like him to show me that he’s interested in getting to know me, but…” Cries ring through the hot air as a wave washes the sandcastle. “I want to get to know him. The real him.”

Lissie’s lips turn downwards at your broken tone. You act uninterested, but she knows it just for show, and that might be the worst torture of all.

She bumps your head with her shoulder, softly, and you instantly pout. “You’ll know what to do, babe. But if we’re being realistic here, Charles won’t wait forever.” Pause. “And Max isn’t the kind to grovel for anything other than podiums.”

Bahrain International Circuit—March 5, 2023 (Bahrain Grand Prix)

“Heads! Go on, Coffee Boy. Oh, and make it extra sweet.”

Charles lets out a heavy sigh, shoulders drooping as he strolls away. You pick and choose emails to respond to before leaning against one leg, typing away fiercely. You even have time to get back to your sister who begs for a souvenir. Any, she adds with a thousand smiley faces.

“Working hard already? The season’s barely begun.” Your breath catches so sharply that it hurts your throat for a second. His voice is somehow deeper, but it could be because you haven’t seen or heard from him in about forever. Max steps closer. “H-how was your summer break?”

Your berry lips open, then close, then repeat. It’s embarrassing. “Never bad to get ahead, and I—had a good one. Much needed.” He nods attentively. “You look—” You stop before admitting. “Healthy. You look really healthy”

A booming chuckle. “Thanks. You look really healthy, too.”

Blue eyes linger for a second too long and that fills you up with unwanted adrenaline. “Why are you here?” Pink expands through your cheekbones as you grimace. “I mean—here.” You point at the tiny tent as if it weren’t obvious what you were referring to. “Here, here.”

The Dutchman’s lips dance, fondly. “Well I was walking by, saw you, and wanted to say hi.” He looks around with a subtle frown. “Is now a bad time?”

“Well—”

“Mate,” a sweet accent rings through the air as you screw your eyes shut. Max turns to face Charles with a slow grin. The Monegasque tilts his head in greeting, hands occupied with your beverage and his. “How have you been?”

“So, so. Yourself?”

“Good. Refreshed.”

“For me?” he jokes. The brunette chuckles, raising the coffee cups with bright orbs. “Lazy Carlos, always sending you, right?”

The Ferrari driver shakes his head, curls following, then hands it to you. You hesitantly take it from him as you avoid eye contact. “Thank you, Charles.”

His smile widens, pecking your lips. “Still don’t think you should drink it on a daily basis, but hey, you’re welcome.”

Max blinks. “W-when did this happen?”

The green eyed boy hums, lips twisting against his straw. “Over break.”

“Oh.” Gaze slips over to where you bite your cheek. “You spent it in Monaco?”

A harsh tick. “Yes.” With an open mouth, he nods, like a muppet. You purse your lips, facing your boyfriend with pleading eyes. “Do you want to start making your way over? I don’t want Carlos to say anything about being late. You know how he is.”

Charles snickers, then intertwines his fingers through yours. “See you on track?”

The RedBull driver released a low breath, cracking a smile that looked more like a snarl. And while Charles doesn’t notice it, you do. Of course you do.

“See you on track.”

Miami International Autodrome—May 7, 2023

“Then why did you do it?” she whispers. The judgment and confusion that radiates off of Lissie is enough for you to grow gray. She rolls her tongue. “You can’t be doing stuff like this anymore, you have a boyfriend.” Her eyes screw shut, then snap open. “He adores the ground you walk on, are you insane?”

Tears well up at her truthful words. They sting all at once, and you carelessly crumble as your numb lips start to wobble. “Lissie—”

“No. Just—stop. Stop talking.” Max raises his eyebrows at the journalist and her sternness, but feels bad as you inch back, heels clicking. She huffs, pacing the hall. When she comes to a stop, she glares at the Dutchman. “How could you do this, too?”

“I never meant any harm—”

“Bullshit! Both of you are so stupid, it’s worrisome.” Shame fills your veins as you look down, pinching your undergarment as some coping mechanism. The British girl sighs. “You have to tell him.”

“No.”

“What do you mean no? He deserves to know.”

Decreasing the gap between you two, you sniffle, shaky hands clutching harder. “It’s going to kill him, Lissie. I can’t do that.”

And you can tell she’s running through her options because she’s your best friend. And above all, you were hers. With hesitance, she nods. “This has to end.”

You nod, desperately. “That’s it. We’re done.”

Circuit de Monaco—May 28, 2023 (Monaco Grand Prix)

“You’ve been a bit uptight. Could it be Charles that’s making you feel that way?”

“No. Don’t even try and blame it on him.”

He pinches your nipple, then licks your humid skin. You whine at the sensation. “You’re not getting anything in return for lying. It’s pathetic.”

You hiss when your climax tempts to fall. “What's the lie?”

“That you love him.”

“I do love him—”

He groans into your neck. “You sound so pretty.” A sloppy thrust. “When you choke around my cock, my spit, my cum.” Your eyes roll back when he pushes against your g-spot at a different angle. “Admit it, you’ve always enjoyed it.”

“You’re sick."

“Maybe, but you’re well worth it.”

You clench around his length and he hisses like a snake. In pain. In lust. Doesn’t matter. “You’re a shitty friend—”

Jaw clenches. “You’re a shitty girlfriend.” When you cry out in pleasure, he smirks. “Fine, then answer me one thing; is this stress reliever a bad thing?”

“Maybe, but who cares?”

And there's nothing left for him to do, simply smiling down at you like the Cheshire Cat, somehow scarier than The Joker. If not more.

Red Bull Ring—July 2, 2023 (Austrian Grand Prix)

“Right, but we’re not talking about Lissie. Mate, you can’t…you know you can’t.” Daniel grimaces. “She’s taken.”

“I know,” Max stutters. “Who do you take me for?”

The Australian is easy to tell when he laughs genuinely, but even the RedBull driver can spot the difference to the one exiting his mouth right now. “You think she’s pretty—that’s all.”

“That’s all,” he confirms.

“And that’s not a weird thing to admit because she is a pretty girl,” the brunette tries to help as Max nods happily.

“Exactly.” A pause. “You get it.”

Daniel brings the blunt up to his mouth, taking a hit, then blows out. “Y-yeah…because it’d be bad if you liked her, liked her.”

“I know that. I-I-I was never going to—yeah.” His heart pounds fast against his ribs when you giggle, pecking Charles’s neck, all while conversing with Lissie, Kika, and Pierre. He directs his attention back to the Australian and lets out a raw laugh.

“I wouldn’t be that stupid.”

“You’re a bad influence.”

“Why?”

“Because it would never work out.”

“And why not? You’re giving up too eas—oh.” In an instant, his brown eyes follow yours, and it makes his heart drop. Because it’s not Charles that you’ve suddenly realized that you love, but Max. “You can’t…” Somewhere close by, Pierre yells, cheering with a group of older ladies as Kika glares, shaking her head. He inches closer. “You can’t do that to Charles. He loves you.”

“And I love him,” you announce, brushing your hair back. Timidly, you peek over at him. “I’m not a saint, I know that, but I would appreciate it if we kept this between us.” A sore chuckle. “W-what matters is that I choose Charles. He’s the love of my life.”

And Daniel knows he probably shouldn’t agree to any of this, and yet, he finds himself nodding, curls bouncing. “Just between us.”

You smile gently, going in for another sip before laughing at the blunt that sticks inside.

“Beer’s ass, by the way.”

Circuit Zandvoort—August 27, 2023 (Dutch Grand Prix)

“I love you. Y-you weren’t some fuck buddy to me…you’ve always been more than that. And…I hate that too.”

“I love you, too. And it’s because I love you that I know what comes after this.”

“What would that be?”

“Nothing.”

He flinches. “I-it doesn’t have to be that way. You could lea—”

You sigh, pulling your dress up as he zip his race suit. “I can’t leave him, Max. It’s not that easy.”

He pants, blue eyes tracing your face anxiously. “A-and why not? Why can’t it be that easy?”

A cruel laugh wiggles up your throat as you dig your nails into your palm. “Because I’m engaged!”

He ricochets with a scoff. “Oh, what? Now you suddenly care about not being called a cheater?” You look away and he chuckles. “Because that’s what you are—a fucking cheater.”

Your face patches into a shade of pink as you breathe heavily, refusing to let the tears fall. “And what does that make you?”

“I am not a cheater.”

You snarl. “No, but you’re a God awful friend.”

He steps back, large hand running against his lips, drying them out, getting rid of your saliva. “You’re just—you know what? Fuck you.”

You gasp. “No. Fuck you.”

Max rolls his blue eyes, finally reaching his breaking point as he pushes you against the wall to his motorhome. “You’re scared, aren’t you? Of realizing what we actually are.”

Heavy pants. Orbs flicker down to his rosy lips. He almost smiles. “What are we? A cheater and a bad friend?”

“No. A villain and their accomplice.” That seems to do it. A strong tide takes over as you sob against his grip. And it doesn’t hurt, it’s not tight. It’s only secure. He continues with a dark look swirling his orbs. “You know, you were always the first one to point out someone as a bad person, when in reality, it's you.”

“Okay, stop—”

“And I’m not innocent either—I’m well aware—but I’m not the one with a ring around their finger.”

“Stop!” you yell, pushing him away harshly. It should feel foreign, the fury and the shame, but that’s all you seem to know these days. Or ever since you met him. “You’re right. We’re two rotten apples, or whatever the fuck you want to call it, but can you blame me? You’re fucking with my head, Max!”

He softens, and for a moment, its pure silence, other than your tiny cries. Licking his lips, he pats his thigh. “You already know I’m wrongfully in love with you. I just actually thought I stood a chance. That it would be me.”

“Max…”

He winces in pain with how sweet your voice sounds pronouncing his name. It’s always been that way. When you first interviewed him a year ago, to when you first kissed him back and gasped his name. But it only got dirtier and dirtier throughout the course of time.

“Be honest with me, please.” Bloodshot eyes look up at him. “Is he your safest option? Is that what this is?”

And with one final, tormented look, you open your lips to breathe out.

“He’s someone I could envision a future with, Max.” A beat. “And you’re just a footnote.”

“Voilá!” Charles cheers as he claps loudly against your ear. You yelp at the sudden sound all while trying to reach for his hands to stop his movements. He grins, deep dimples imprinting like feet on sand. “That was beautiful, really, it really was.”

Rubbing your ass against his bulge is the only way you think you can get him to shut up, and he does, immediately letting out a strained chuckle. Smiling sweetly at your friends, you shrug. “I had my doubts, Pierre, but this was pretty cute. Thank you.”

The Frenchman gloats, clicking his fingers. I told you, I told you they’d like it! Your fiancé kisses your cheek. “That’s why I chose him.” A playful frown. “You see, mon amour? You never hold any faith in my decisions.”

Rolling your eyes, you stick your pink tongue out at him. “I still think you should have chosen one of your brothers.” A stern look. “Like Lorenzo—wasn’t he the one that helped you buy the ring?”

“Yes, but that would have been unfair to Arthur. He would’ve felt left out.”

“Arthur’s too distracted trying to figure out the difference between left and right!” The Monegasque tosses his head back and you admire with a soft glow. “I lo—”

“Wait,” Carlos hollers, deep accent ringing. You and Charles turn, bubble bursting. “We all went around sharing but Max.”

“Yeah,” Lily ponders, fingers tracing her lips. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Pierre hums. “Mate?”

Max blinks, shaking his head. “Ah, it’s alright. We’ve heard enough, don’t you think?” His joke is meant to be easy going, but it comes out dry, and even to this day, you can notice it. Licking your already glossed lips, you flip your gaze to Lissie and Daniel who share the same worried expression.

Because Lissie was your best friend. She would carry your secret to the grave.

Because Daniel was Max’s best friend. He would carry his secret to the grave.

But the Dutchman himself didn't care. He honestly felt like he had nothing else to lose.

“Okay then,” he whispers, wiping his sweaty palms against his jeans. He slightly tilts his head to the open sky, as if wondering when it would swallow him whole. He was secretly hoping it would. Beady, excited, and petrified eyes stare back at him as he smiles awkwardly. “I…”

“He doesn’t want to,” you declare, twisting to signal the Frenchman. “If he doesn’t want to, then he doesn’t have to say anything, it’s fine.”

“No.” Blue eyes darken as he places his drink down onto the wooden table. “I want y—” He bites his tongue, immediately tasting metallic. “I want to.”

“Let him,” Charles says, chuckling softly. “Don’t kill his stride.”

So, with neat brown drawn together, clammy fingers playing with your silver band, you sit back down. Like a force of nature, the Monegasque hugs you from behind. You gulp, leaning the back of your head against his shoulder.

“I think it’s crazy how one minor decision can change absolutely fucking everything.”

“Oh shit,” Lissie and Daniel mutter next to each other, exchanging the blunt back and forth.

Your face twists up like a wrinkled shirt. “If you’re not going to say anything nice, then don’t say anything at all.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” he instantly shoots back, but feverishly deflates when Charles furrows his dark brows like some Doberman. Astonished at his cold tone, you blink, lashes fluttering like a notebook. He almost swoons at the sight, but amazingly holds back.

“If you hadn’t taken Pierre’s advice and apologized to Charles, then we wouldn't be here. If you hadn’t spent summer break with him, then we wouldn’t be here. If you hadn't fallen in love, then we wouldn’t be here.” He swallows. “It’s the little things.”

“And, um...what makes a relationship work out is the commitment. If one person commits and the other doesn’t then it won’t ever work out, but you two…” You nibble on your bottom lip harshly, holding your breath as he looks into your bright eyes. He releases a forced chuckle, as if it would help get rid of his splintered heart. “You two chose each other, so…cheers to that.”

“Wow,” Charles hums, blankly. “That was surprisingly heartfelt…” A sheepish grin. “Thank you, mate.”

It’s as if he’s suddenly admitting defeat to someone who didn’t know they had him as an opponent to begin with; the way he throws the peony at the Monegasque, who catches it with ease. “Don’t mention it.”

So, as Max sits alone, with no date, he begins to wonder that maybe—just maybe—you were right all along.

He gave his speech last.

He was the footnote.

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm @weekendlusting@chanshintien @brune77e @myownwritings @timmychalametsstuff @milasexutoire@alesainz @c-losur3 @darleneslane @togazzo @urfavnoirette @namgification @lpab @d3kstar @anniee-mr @nebarious

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httpsserene · 9 months

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kinktober '23 table of contents

welcome to serene's f1 kinktober special! i do not know how many posts i will be doing for this event, but, reblog and save this masterlist for any updates concerning my f1 kinktober.

posts will be tagged with: # httpss :// kinktober 23

view playlist? ↴

upload 1 : charles leclerc / max verstappen x reader | corruption kink

innocent and virgin !reader has never touched herself before. she knows how to, in theory, but whenever she tries, she chickens out. her tried and true way of receiving pleasure is failing her. she thinks that maybe it's time to allow her relationship with her two respectful and experienced boyfriends, to reach the next step. and she'll find that they're very willing to teach her a few things.

upload 2 : carlos sainz jr x reader | were/wolf shifter & predator/prey

for all people believe that werewolves are dangerous creatures, your wolf is pretty tame, even with some of his...quirks. this halloween you let him be the big bad wolf to your little red riding hood, while you give out candy to trick-or-treaters. what he doesn't know, is that you have your own trick-or treat planned for him after this– you're his treat tonight, but he's going to have to chase you first.

upload 3 : oscar piastri x reader | car sex & squirting

your boyfriend has to make an appearance at some sponsor event. he's gone ahead and bought you an alluring outfit, but he failed to mention how seductive he looks in the new fitted suit his team got him. you two won't be staying long, but you increase the pace by riling him up, mostly unintentionally. so it's your fault that he makes you ruin his loaned mclaren.

upload 4 : daniel ricciardo / max verstappen x reader | overstimulation

you can't remember the last time you've gotten to spend more than three days at a time with both of your boyfriends. you understand how demanding their job is but, you just can't remember the last time they really exhausted you...pleasurably. and then winter break comes around, and they have all the time they need to make you lose your mind.

upload 5 : lewis hamilton x reader | tender sex & cockwarming

your husband comes home to his monaco apartment after achieving p2 in spain. from the texts you sent him before he boarded his flight, he expected you to be awake when he arrived. however, you’ve fallen asleep–but that’s not a problem. he’ll sneak into bed right next to you and catch a few extra hours of sleep. you’ll commemorate the podium come morning.

upload 6 : george russell x reader | vampire & hickeys/biting

george has created a serious problem. you two have been dating for over three years, and he fed from you the first time about three months ago. the problem lies within the fact that he conditioned you to orgasm every time he used you as his glorified high-class wine bottle. on second thought, that’s a pretty good problem to have; his thirst is sated, and yours is as well.

upload 7 : pierre gasly x reader | witchcraft

witch!reader and potions master!pierre run a shop to fulfill anyone’s magical needs. it’s nearing valentine’s day, and the shop is bombarded with desperate humans looking for love charms & potions, even though there’s no magic spell strong enough to replicate true love. oddly, news travels from a few villages over that there’s a potions master who managed to make a real love potion. pierre has to get his hands on it—for the bit, obviously. there’s no way it will work.

upload 8 : lando norris x reader | pussy worship

if lando achieved a podium at silverstone, you promised you’d give him anything he wants. he thinks about it the whole race weekend, and when the two of you are celebrating his second-place finish, he tells you that he wants to take care of you. you’re disbelieving–he takes care of you every waking hour. lando, on the other hand, said that with his chest. and he’ll prove it to you.

upload 9 : charles leclerc x reader | orgasm delay/denial

the 2023 season has had a despicable effect on charles’ self-worth. it pains you to see how he attributes ferrari’s failure to deliver to himself. you can’t stand to see him berate himself for things that are out of his control. when the emilia-romagna grand prix is understandably canceled, you start forming a plan. if charles doesn’t believe he’s as good as you say he is, you’ll make him internalize it–using any means necessary.

upload 10 : yuki tsunoda x reader | ab-riding/frottage

your mental state is suffering–you’re not sure if you can handle alphatauri posting another thirst trap of your boyfriend to disguise their inability to build a car that doesn’t break within the first ten laps. but, when yuki posts his own half-naked picture on main? he’s asking for it, at this point. clearly, he’s been spending too much time with pierre.

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ramblers-lets-get-ramblin · 6 months

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Team Spirit- Joel Miller x f!reader

Joel Miller Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Rating: E for EXPLICIT MDNI 18+

Summary: When you go to an Eagles bar to watch the football game, the last thing you expect is to get railed in the bathroom by a Cowboys fan.

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: drinking, unspecified age gap, unprotected PIV, creampie, (kinda?) public sex, tommy miller is a fucking menace to society, football references.

Immersability: reader is able-bodied and can be lifted/picked up

Author's Note: i am a sportsball girlie at heart and i wrote this for all my other sportsball babes. just some silly PWP. Enjoy!

shoutout to my love @dancingtotuyo and my wife @wannab-urs for beta reading and the amazing comments they left in my google doc!

“Do I really gotta do this?” Joel asks his brother.

“Shouldn’t have let your mouth write a check your ass couldn’t cash.” Tommy laughs. “At least you get a new jersey out of the deal, right?” he shoves the bag into Joel’s hands and laughs.

“Yeah. Right.” Joel deadpans. He opens the bag and pulls out the silver and navy jersey. “PRESCOTT” reads the back in white letters with a number 4 underneath. He should have known better than to take a bet with Tommy. He prefers to give the terms after he’s already won, doing his damndest to stick his older brother in the most uncomfortable positions possible. He also should have known better to bet on the Rangers, given the season they were having. Besides, everyone knows the Astros are cheaters. Now he’s gotta wear this Cowboys jersey to go watch the Dallas vs Philadelphia game. At an Eagles bar. While wearing a Cowboys jersey. Joel sighs and trudges up the stairs to get ready.

By the time the Uber pulls up Joel is dreading this evening. The bitter rivalry between the Dallas Cowboys and The Philadelphia Eagles, and their fans, goes back decades, generations. Shove a bunch of people into a small space and fill them with beer, well, you’re just asking for trouble. Add a football rivalry on top of it and the odds go up even more.

“We don’t have to stay the whole time, right?” Joel asks.

“‘Course we do, Joel. We can’t let those Eagles fans think they ran us off, can we?” Tommy replies with a mischievous glint in his eyes. He almost seems like he’s hoping for some trouble. “Besides, Sarah is at Mom’s all night. Maybe we can find some girls to go home with.” he laughs.

“In an Eagles bar?” Joel scoffs. “Not likely, little brother.” he claps Tommy on the shoulder and laughs.

~~~~~

You step out of the Uber calling a “Thank you!” over your shoulder to the driver. You walk past the entrance to The Bee’s Knees, and climb the stairs to its sister bar, The Cat’s Pajamas. The tiki decor of the rooftop bar that once caught you off guard now welcomes you like an old friend. A set of jet skis sit in one corner, next the bathrooms. On the opposite side of the bathrooms is a large screen that the games are projected on . The bar is an enclosed square in the middle, complete with a fake grass roof. Two sides are furnished with stools, one is open for customers to line up. The fourth side, the one directly in front of the projection screen, the stools have been replaced with five large, wooden swings. They hang from the roof with rope handles. As you well know, after a few drinks those things can be dangerous.

As you survey the room, looking for your friends, a man sitting at one of the picnic tables along the back wall catches your eye. He’s older than you, by about fifteen years you guess. He’s wearing jeans and a denim jacket, zipped all the way up. His patchy beard is graying and his brown hair is just starting to curl around his ears and the nape of his neck. His eyes flick from one of the many tv screens to yours and back again. Then, he looks towards you again, holding your gaze this time. One side of his mouth turns up in a smile, albeit a shy one. The hint of a dimple appears on his cheek. You return the smile but your view of him becomes obstructed by another man. He’s younger and his jet black hair is long and curly. He sets a tallboy of Lone Star down in front of the first man. You aren’t sure if they exchange words but the younger man turns to look at you over his shoulder and gives you a grin, displaying his perfect pearly whites.

You feel a little nervous so you continue in your quest to find your friends. By the time you’ve made the rounds, saying hello to all the regulars, your friends still haven’t arrived. You sit on a barstool near the end of the bar. The opposite end from where the handsome man and his companion are. You glance towards his table once more and find that his gaze had returned to the tv. Kickoff is in five so you give your drink order to the bartender and pull out your phone. You have several unread texts, all from your friends. “Shit.” you say under your breath. None of them are going to make it. Oh well, you think. You’re already here and there isn’t a place in downtown Austin where you feel safer. You aren’t super close with anyone here, but you know quite a few of them well enough to feel comfortable staying here alone.

The bartender slides you your own Lone Star just as the game starts. The Cowboys are receiving first and the Eagles defense holds them off. After three downs and only twenty yards gained, they punt the ball to the Eagles. By the end of the first quarter, you’re on your second beer and the score remains tied at zero. You drain the can and raise it in the bartender’s direction. “Another, please!” you call down to him.

“Put it on my tab.” you hear from beside you. You turn and see the handsome man from earlier. He’s holding up two fingers to the bartender. “Plus another round for me and my brother.” he turns and smiles at you. A real one this time. His eyes are a deep brown and the skin crinkles at the corners. His lips are full and topped with a plush mustache.

“Thank you.” you offer him a smile of your own in return.

“I’m Joel.” he says, handing you your beer.

You take the can from him and he smiles again when you tell him your name.

“Nice to meet you. Mind if I sit here?” he asks, pointing at the stool in front of him.

“Not at all.” you say with a shake of your head.

“Let me go drop this beer off to my brother. Be right back.”

He struts over to the picnic table, he appears to hold his head just a little higher now. When he sets the beer down in front of the other man, and cocks his head in your direction. Two two men exchange a few words and when Joel’s brother looks in your direction, you drop your eyes down to your phone. They’re too far away for you to hear what they are talking about anyways. After a moment, Joel returns, leaving one stool empty between you as he sits on the next one.

You place your phone on the bar and when you look back over to him, your eyes feel like they might bug out of your skull. Is he fucking serious? You wonder and your mouth gapes open. He took off his jacket and left it at his table. He’s sitting there in a Cowboys jersey.

“You’re brave for wearing that thing here, ya know?” you say, tilting your beer can in the direction of his jersey. He laughs and raises his own can to his mouth. He swallows with a few loud gulps and you can’t help but be mesmerized at the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with each swallow. You find yourself wondering what the deep hollow of his throat might feel like under your tongue.

“I lost a bet.” he replies, setting his beer down on the bar and nodding his head towards his brother. “You look a little disappointed.” he says with a soft chuckle.

“I am.” you reply bluntly. “I was just starting to think you were cool.” he looks a little disappointed himself until you curl your lips into a smirk.

“Would you still be willing to let me watch the game with you?” he asks, leaning his shoulder a little closer to you.

“Sure! As long as you don’t get any closer. Wouldn’t want any of my friends to think I was fraternizing with the enemy.”

He raises his eyebrows and something mischievous flashes in his eyes. “Is that what we’re doin’?” he asks. “Fraternizing?”

“Game’s back on.” you say, avoiding the question. You turn back towards the tv and turn your beer nervously.

“Mmhmm.” Joel replies, returning his attention to the game. You see the smile return to his face from the corner of your eye and feel a little flutter, low in your belly.

~~~~~

“FLY, EAGLES, FLY

ON THE ROAD TO VICTORY.

FIGHT, EAGLES, FIGHT

SCORE A TOUCHDOWN 1-2-3

1-2-3

HIT ‘EM LOW

HIT ‘EM HIGH

AND WATCH OUR EAGLES FLY

FLY, EAGLES, FLY

ON THE ROAD TO VICTORY

E-A-G-L-E-S

EAGLES!”

Joel groans in his seat as the bar breaks out in yet another round of the Eagles’ fight song. The one you all sing after a Philly touchdown. He excuses himself to the bathroom at halftime and when he returns, He takes the stool right next to you. You don’t miss the dirty looks he, and now you, are getting from the ever rowdy crowd. You get to know each other better during halftime. Joel tells you about his daughters, Sarah and Ellie, who are away at college, and the construction business that he owns with his brother. Tommy has had no trouble chatting up all the ladies, even in his own Cowboys jersey. You’re pretty sure the tight fit was a conscious choice, same as his jeans. You tell Joel about your own job and family, and what it’s been like growing up an Eagles fan in Texas. You were wrong about his age. He’s even older than you thought. But, damn, he looks good for his age.

You both switch to water when the second half commences. It’s Monday night after all. Joel’s enthusiasm for the game starts to sour at the end of the third quarter, with the Eagles winning 42-7. He finds it hard to keep his attention on the screen at all, in fact. He’s much more interested in you. Your own interest grows by the second. He’s charming and handsome, sure. But what really gets you is the way he beams with pride when he talks about his daughters.

The bar erupts in cheers when the Eagles force yet another turnover. With less than two minutes remaining in the game, Jalen Hurts takes a knee. He repeats the action twice more, running the clock down to under forty seconds. Joel lets out another groan and buries his head in his hands on the bar. Suddenly, an idea strikes you.

“C’mon.” you say, grabbing his hand and dragging him off the stool.

“Where are we goin’?” he asks curiously. But he follows along, gripping your hand even tighter.

His rough palm engulfs yours and you lead him to the far corner of the bar where the employee bathroom is hidden.

“What are you doin’?” he asks when you haul him into the bathroom and click the lock behind you.

“Givng you a consolation prize.” you say slyly. “Unless you don't want it.” you tease.

Joel picks you up and spins you around. He presses your back against the door and your legs circle his trim waist. Your skirt rides up and you can feel the soft swell of his stomach against your clothed core. “I’ve been thinkin’ about doin’ this all night.” he says.

“Well go on then, Cowboy. Do it.” you urge.

Joel’s lips crash against yours and he grabs the meat of your ass through your skirt. He moans into your mouth when you gently tug on the curls at the nape of his neck. He grips you tighter and spins you both around. The bathroom is small so he only has to take two steps before he’s setting you down on the counter, never moving his mouth from yours. When you finally separate to catch your breath, you are both panting. Neither of you have any desire to take things slow. You pull Joel’s jersey over his head and he catches it right before you drop it on the floor.

“Let’s not be naughty, huh?” he teases and drops it onto the counter beside you. He grabs a knee in each hand and spreads them wide. He drops to his knees and runs his hands up the insides of your thighs. The work-worn, rough skin of his palms catches on the thin fabric of your fishnets. His hands disappear beneath the hem of your skirt and his thumbs stroke the creases of your thighs. The heat from his skin is so close, but not close enough. Your hips buck of their own accord, your pussy aching for some attention. Joel moves his thumb to your covered mound, searching for your clit through the layers. “This where you want me, darlin’?” he asks, pressing against the lace of your underwear, the cute ones you almost didn’t wear.

He tsks when you nod in response. “C’mon now, baby. You had plenty to say earlier, all that trash talk. Use your words.” he instructs. You open your mouth, but the only thing that comes out is a whine. Joel snatches his hand away, resting it just above your knee. “Words.”

“Yes, please. That’s where I want you.” you pant. Desire courses through your entire body. The flame he stoked with just a few strokes of his hand burning low in your belly.

“Good girl.” he says softly, looking up at you from where he kneels. He pulls your skirt the rest of the way up and the countertop stings your skin cold. He hooks his fingers in the crotch of your fishnets and rips. He tears them all the way up, so they are only held together by the elastic band at your waist. He taps his fingers against your hips as he grabs the sides of your lace panties. You hold on to his shoulders and raise up off the counter, allowing him to drag your underwear down your legs. He pulls them over the toes of your clunky boots, one at a time and slips the black scrap into his back pocket.

His knees crack as he stands and moves between your legs. One hand rests on the back of your neck, tilting your head up towards his. With the other, he drags his finger up the seam of your cunt, separating the slick folds, making room for himself. When he leans down, you think he’s going to kiss you, but he surprises you by bringing his mouth to your ear.

“I’d give anything to be able to take my time with you.” he whispers. The heat of his breath causes a shiver to run up your spine. “To lay you down on my bed. Take you apart with my hands, my tongue.” he dips a finger inside you, but just barely. He gathers the slick forming there and drags it up. “And then split you open on my cock, again and again.” your breath catches in your throat when he begins to circle your clit. “Until you’re beggin’ me to stop.”

He pulls away from your ear and catches your bottom lip in his teeth. At the same time he slips his middle finger into you. You arch your body into his and he continues rubbing circles over your clit.

“Fuck, Joel.” you whine. “I’m so close, baby.” he curls his finger inside of you and picks up the pace with his thumb.

“C’mon, darlin’.” he urges. “Come for me.” and when he attaches his lips to your pulse point, you do. You bury your face into his chest, sinking your teeth into the flesh to muffle the sounds of your pleasure. Joel moans loudly in your ear the moment you taste the warm copper on your tongue.

The aftershocks have barely abated when your hands fly to his belt. Your thighs want to clench at the sound of metal against metal, but you can’t. His thick thighs block the motion. You flick the button and drag his zipper down and Joel’s mouth never leaves you. Your mouth, your jaw, your neck. You grab his jeans and boxer briefs and shove them down. He pulls you forward on the counter so that your ass is teetering on the edge.

His cock pops out of the waistband of his boxers and rests against the soft trail of hair under his belly button. He looks over his shoulder, double checking that the door is locked and runs the tip of him through your soaked folds. He catches at your entrance and when you moan, please, he pushes inside. He feeds his cock to you slowly, allowing your walls to stretch for him, mold to the shape of him, until he’s sheathed fully.

Joel’s breath is quick and heavy in your ear as he pumps his hips in and out of you, hand held tight to the small of your back. The nudge of his thick head against your cervix punches the breath out of you. You rake your nails across the broad expanse of his shoulders and he groans against your ear. The muffled sound of the fight song trickles in under the door and you find yourself thankful for the noise. Then, an idea strikes you.

Joel doesn’t seem to notice when you first begin to hum in his ear. Either that, or he’s too pussy drunk to care. Your own rendition of “Fly, Eagles, Fly” is interrupted by moans and stuttered breaths, but you persevere. The rivalry doesn’t just go away because he’s inside of you.

“The hell are you doin’?” he punctuates the question with a particularly sharp thrust.

“C’mon, Joel. Say it just once. For me?” you clench your walls around him, squeezing him tight. His pace falters and he squeezes you tighter against him.

“Pussy’s so good, baby.” he groans. “But it ain’t that good.”

Suddenly, he pulls out of you. He grabs your ass and pulls you off the counter, hands on your hips to steady you. Once he’s sure your legs won’t wobble, he spins you around. He gathers both of wrists in one of his large hands and holds them in front of you, stretching them towards the mirror. There’s a near feral look in his eyes when he raises his hand, bringing it down in a swat to your ass cheek.He watches the ripple of your skin as he takes his cock in his hand and eases it back into you.

“Oh my god.” you cry. He’s so much deeper from this angle. He nudges against something devastating inside of you. Something you never knew existed. It doesn’t take Joel but a moment to build up to a bruising pace. Your eyes never leave his face in the mirror, watching him pound into you with a hunger you didn’t expect from a man his age. Tension coils through your entire body, like a snake gearing up to strike.

Joel’s eyes catch yours in the mirror and he gives you a devilish grin. “Gonna fuck that team spirit right outta ya.” he growls. He grips your shoulder, pulling you back onto his cock with each thrust. The smile returns when he feels your pussy fluttering around him. “That’s right, darlin’. Be a good girl. Give it to me.”

Your orgasm crashes through you. You can feel it everywhere, the strain in your biceps where he’s stretching your arms. The tips of your toes where you stand on them to give him access. Low in your belly when you gush around him, drawing his own release from him. He comes with a shout, pulsing inside of you. He’s so big, fills you so completely, that you can feel every throb and shudder of his cock as he paints your walls.

He releases your wrists and you fall against the counter. Joel slumps over your back and the two of you fight to catch your breath. The noise from the bar begins to quiet down as people disperse for the evening. Joel stands and pulls his pants up and you hide your ruined tights as best you can with your skirt.

Joel chucks you under the chin and presses a light kiss to your lips. “Guess we better get out there huh?”

You sigh and smooth your clothes once more, nodding in agreement. Joel unlocks the door and pops his head out, making sure the coast is clear. “I’ll go first. See you out there?” he nods towards the bar with his head.

“Yeah,” you nod. “See you out there.” the door closes behind him and you turn to the mirror to give yourself the once over. Satisfied that you don’t look freshly fucked, you step into the hallway. You feel a twinge of disappointment when you don’t see Joel, but continue down the hallway, back to the bar.

You see him walking towards the table he started the night at, interrupting Tommy’s conversation. Tommy looks up at his brother and breaks out into a grin. His eyes flick over Joel’s shoulder to you, and he gives you a wink. Joel turns and smiles, waving you over. He introduces you to Tommy, who shakes your hand before returning to his own chance for a consolation prize.

“So,” you begin. “Maybe I’ll see you here next week?” you ask hopefully.

Joel huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “No, darlin’. I don’t think you will.” When you look down at the ground, dejected, Joel once again raises your chin with his fingers. “But you can come over and watch the game at my place if you want.” he offers hopefully.

“I’d like that.” you tell him. Offering him your phone to input his number.

Tommy throws an arm around Joel’s shoulder. His other is slung across the waist of the woman he was talking to. “C’mon big brother. Ride’s waitin’.” he says. Joel hands you back your phone and bends to kiss your cheek. When he does, Tommy lets out a loud “Whoo!” and before you know it, your forgotten panties are clutched in his fist. “What do we have here?” he teases and pushes the balled up fabric into Joel’s hand.

Joel glares at his brother before tucking the panties into the pocket of his jacket. “Text me when you make it home?” he asks quietly. You nod and they leave. As you watch him walk away, you realize what you just agreed to. The game meant something different to you than it did him. Now you gotta go watch a fucking Cowboys game.

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#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller smut #joel miller fic #joel tlou #joel miller x you #the last of us #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

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xxbimbobunnyxx · 6 months

Text

White Rabbit

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rafe goes to Barry for help with his “pouge problem” but he gets more help than he bargained for when he meets Barry’s cousin in the most unsuspecting way. He can’t stay away from her, despite Barry’s protests, especially when she’s just as unhinged as he is. Takes place during season 2 episode 4 “Homecoming”. Wk: 6.9k.(oops)

Warnings: Gun violence(reader shoots a guy but doesn’t kill him), cocaine use(both reader and rafe), Barry is not super stoked about R and Rafe being into each other, unprotected sex, oral (m & f), choking, hair pulling, face fucking, Dom!Rafe, Sub!Reader, unhinged reader, spit kink, digration, daddy kink, a lil spanking, biting, Rafe & R are obsessed with each other, R has the nickname “bunny” & is implied to be alternative, her outfit is described but other than that no physical descriptions. Lmk if I missed any please! 18+MNDI!!

A/N: This is my first time ever writing for Rafe, so it might not be the best ever but I fell for this man so hard and I just needed to write him with an unhinged girl. Shout out to my girl @babygorewhore for not only beta reading but hyping me up/brainstorming with me through this entire fic. I might make this into a series of some sort. Reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated!✨🖤

Rafe slammed his truck door shut as he walked up to Barry’s porch, scoffing when he saw him sitting there with his feet propped up while he read a book.

“Hey, you got my shit?”

“Shit, you’re early.” Barry closes his book and sets it down on the table in front of him, a condescending smirk spreading across his lips.

“Do you have my shit or not, man?” Rafe groans as he plops his large body down onto the rundown cushion of one of the porch chairs.

“Yeah, I got yo shit.” Barry chuckles, pulling the baggy from his pocket and tossing it on the table. “You got my money?”

“Yeah.” Rafe pulls a wad of cash from his pocket and slaps it into his hand before grabbing the baggy so he can make himself line. He snorts it, letting out a deep breath after. “I need a piece too.”

“Hooohoooo!! You need a piece? Country Club Killer now, huh?” Barry laughs, his hand coming down to slap his knee.

“Don’t!!” Rafe slams his hand on the table. “Mess with me right now.”

“Aight, what the hell you need a piece for?”

“John B is fucking back.”

“John B is fucking dead dude.”

“Nah man, I saw him for myself in the Bahamas, and just now Top saw him in town with my sister scoring beer.”

“FUCK!!!!” Barry kicks the table, sending it flying a few feet away. “Are you fuckin’ kiddin me? I’m done playing with these kids bruh.”

Barry kicks himself up from his seat, walking over to a locker on the side of the porch. He enters the combination before he pulls out a gun and starts to load it.

“You wanna be done with those little shits once and for all? You’re gonna need a lot more than just a piece. You gotta start going at this shit like a soldier.” He spins the barrel, clicking it into place before handing the gun to Rafe.

“You do this, you know I’ll take care of you, alright? You won’t be doing this shit for nothing man I’ll -“

“YOU THINK I’M SCARED OF YOU, YOU LITTLE BITCH?” A male voice came booming from behind the house.

“IF YOU AREN’T NOW, YOU FUCKING WILL BE!” Another voice followed, but this one was unmistakably female.

“Dude, what the fuck was that? Is that chick okay? Should you like - I don’t know - deal with that or some shit?” Rafe’s blue eyes scan the other man’s face for signs of distress but it was almost like if he hadn’t mentioned it, he wouldn’t have even noticed.

“Nah bro, that’s my cousin. She’s got it, stop trippin. We doin’ this or not?”

There’s a loud crash and then he hears the girl's voice again.

“I TOLD YOU TO GET ON YOUR FUCKING KNEES, YOU PIECE OF SHIT!!!!”

“Dude I’m gonna go check it out, that doesn’t sound good.” Rafe isn’t sure why he really gives a shit if this random chick who he hasn’t even seen is alright or not, maybe he’s just high and paranoid. Either way his curiosity gets the best of him and he starts walking towards the back of Barry’s place.

“She doesn’t need your help pretty boy, trust me.” Barry snorts and shakes his head as he begrudgingly follows him.

When Rafe rounds the corner the sight he sees is far from what he was expecting. The man who he heard yelling was shorter than him but more built, probably middle aged, he wore a white tank top and black board shorts and the look in his eyes told him that he was definitely one of Barry’s customers or less reliable dealers. The girl on the other hand? You were half his size, your hair in two braids with ribbons tied at the ends of them, you were wearing a tiny little baby pink tank top and black spandex shorts that barely covered her ass. You had combat boots on your feet that had little white ruffle socks sticking out of the top of them, but what was most shocking? You were holding a Glock in one of your small hands, and the collar of the man’s tank top was gathered in the other. You were standing on your tiptoes whilst also pulling the man down so he was face level with you, the Glock held to his head.

“I said, get on your fucking knees mother fucker, you got a hearing problem or some shit?” You growl at the man and it sends shivers down Rafe’s spine. You were beautiful. He watches as you shove the Glock into the man’s temple and ram your boot clad heel into his thigh causing him to fall to his knees with a grunt.

“Much better.” You smile as you tap his cheek with the gun before bringing it back to the side of his head. “Now, where the fuck is my fucking money?”

“I told you! I told you I don’t fucking have it right now I just need a little time!” The man’s voice is shaky now, his eyes traveling between you and the gun held to his head.

“Time? This isn’t a fucking loan service! Get me my money by tomorrow, or you’re fucked!” Your eyes are filled with fire and you let out a dry laugh.

“What’re you gonna do? Send Barry after me? Where is he at? He knows I always pay, just let me talk to hi-“ He’s cut off abruptly when you hit him across the cheek with the gun.

“SHUT UP!! You’re not fucking talking to Barry, you’re talking to me. If you don’t get my money you aren’t going to have to deal with him, you’re going to have to deal with me. Which I promise you don’t fucking want.” Rafe watches as you lean down into the guy's face, your eyes boring into his, a sinister smile paints your lips, and he isn’t even ashamed of the fact that he felt his cock stir in his pants at your display of dominance over this man twice your size. “Got it??”

“I don’t know how you expect me to get that amount by tomorrow I-“ The man grunts when you hit him in the face with the gun again, his face whipping to the side.

“I said, got it?” You hold the gun between his eyes, your smile never faltering.

“Yeah - yeah! I got it! I got it! Can I go now!?” The man holds his hands by his head in surrender, seemingly not wanting to argue with you further.

“I fucking mean it asshole, tomorrow, by sunset.” You glare at him momentarily before your smile returns, tapping his cheek with the gun again before turning to walk off.

“You aren’t gonna do shit bitch, you’re nothing without that little gun.”

Rafe’s blue eyes widen as he watches the man’s hand reach out and grab for your Glock. He subconsciously takes a step forward in your defense but soon realizes maybe you really don’t need help. Your body whips around, pulling the gun from the guy's reach and shooting him in the foot all in one motion. He screams out in pain, his hands grabbing onto his foot as he falls to the ground.

“Bring me my fucking money. Tomorrow. Or you’re going to be in a lot more pain than that.” You crouch down and spit in the guy's face before walking over him and into the house, letting the door slam shut behind you. Rafe stands there with his dick half hard and his jaw hanging open as he stares at the closed door you just disappeared behind.

“I told you she fuckin’ had it, and don’t even fuckin’ think about it, country club.” Barry’s voice snaps him out of his trance.

“Wha-? Think about what?”

“I see how you’re fuckin’ lookin at her dude, that’s like my sister in there. You stay your messy ass away from her, aight?”

“We should go check on her…” Rafe ignores Barry’s warning, walking towards the house despite his protests.

You let out an agitated groan as you flop down on the couch and toss your Glock on the cushion next to you. You grab a little clear baggy off the coffee table and sprinkle some of the powder onto the small mirror in front of you, using the random gift card you found in your wallet to push a portion of it into a straight line. You grab the rolled dollar bill sitting on the mirror and bring it up to your nose so fucking ready for this line after dealing with that shit head, but right when you bend over the front door slams open, causing you to jump back. Your foot hits the table and the movement makes a mess of your line. You let out a curse under your breath, your eyes rising to glare at your intruder.

You expect Barry, or maybe that fucking idiot really did want to lose a finger today. But instead of the brown eyes of your cousin, or the bloodshot hazel ones of your unreliable dealer, your eyes lock with piercing blue ones. You have to physically stop yourself from gasping at the sight of the man in front of you. He’s tall, really tall, and built, his chest and arms perfectly filling out the blue button up shirt he wore. His chestnut hair looked silky to the touch, his jaw looked perfect for biting, and his face was just all around beautiful. Especially those eyes, the look in them stern. There was something else there you couldn’t quite decipher, it almost seemed possessive.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice laced with concern.

“Uh - yeah? Aside from the fact that you just scared the shit out of me and made me knock my line all over the table, I’m just peachy.” You scoff, throwing him a playful smirk and roll of your eyes.

“Country Club here seems to think you’re some kinda damsel in distress or some shit.” Barry walks through the door behind him, smacking his bicep with the back of his hand and laughing loudly.

“Damsel in distress, huh? I don’t think I’d mind if a pretty boy like you came to my rescue.” You bite your bottom lip, your eyes roaming his figure.

“Hell fuckin’ nah! Quit that shit out right now, Bunny. I mean it. I told him the same shit, I don’t want this.” He gestures between you and Rafe. “To be a thing. You two are a recipe for fuckin’ disaster. This is Rafe Cameron, the dude I was tellin’ you about.”

“What the fuck did you tell her about me man?” Rafe’s voice comes out almost panicked and you find yourself wanting to comfort him immediately. You jump up from your seat and walk around the table so you can stand in front of him. He’s even taller up close, you have to tilt your head all the way to meet his eyes and you stop yourself from clenching your thighs at the height difference.

“So this is the guy that killed the sheriff, huh? Pretty boy is a cop killer? I find that kind of sexy…” You twirl a strand of your hair between your fingers, your teeth subconsciously finding your bottom lip again as you look up at him through your lashes.

“Barry, what the hell man? You told her that shit?” He addresses the other man but his eyes don’t leave yours, the look in them changed from concern to defense, and maybe a little lust? He was honestly looking at you like he wanted to choke you to death and this time you really couldn’t stop yourself from clenching your thighs where you stood.

“Hey, I’m not going to rat you out or some shit. Barry gave me the low down on everyone on the island when I moved, if I’m going to work for him I need to know the ins and outs, ya know? He trusts me, if you trust him, you can trust me. I’m cool.” You give him a smile that you hope is reassuring, you aren’t sure why but you want him to trust you.

“Alright.” His eyes search your face, almost as if he’s trying to read your thoughts, to see if you really mean it.

“Alright, we good?” You extend your hand towards him and he takes it in his much larger one, shaking it.

“We’re good.” You go to pull your hand away but he tightens his grasp, keeping it held in his. “You didn’t tell me your name though, or should I just call you, what did Barry call you? Bunny?”

“Bunny is preferred, but you can call me my real name too, if you’d like.” You let your thumb run across the back of his hand as you tell him your name, your eyes never leaving his.

“AIGHT! That’s enough of alla that.” Barry pushes past you, plopping down on the couch he grabs the bong on the coffee table and starts to load it.

“Bare, stop acting like you’re in charge of who I flirt with. I'm a grown ass woman, you're being dramatic.” You scoff, sending him a death glare.

“Seriously man, you’re acting like you’re her dad or some shit.” He chuckles when your cousin flips him off. “I’m sorry about your line by the way, I really just came to check in on you after I saw you arguing with that asshole out there. Let me make it up to you.”

Rafe brings his hand up to your shoulder, running his thumb over the blade a few times before letting it graze down your arm as he walks towards the couch. You watch as he sits down next to Barry and picks up your gift card, expertly lining the fine power back into a nice row before patting the cushion next to him. A smile breaks across your lips as you take the empty seat. He doesn’t miss the way your tits bounce when your ass hits the couch and the smell of your sweet perfume makes his cock twitch.

“For you, pretty girl.” He holds the folded dollar bill up to you with a smirk and you happily take it from him.

“Thanks, cutie.” You wink at him. When you lean down Rafe notices your hair is in your way so like it’s the most casual thing in the world he brings his large hand up to your face and sweeps the straw pieces behind your ear. He pushes the rest of it behind your shoulder and his hand stays there while you inhale through your nostril. His touch doesn’t leave you, even when you lean back against the couch, he simply adjusts it so it’s around your shoulder.

“You gonna flirt with my cousin all goddamn night or are we gonna deal with your little pouge problem?”

“Pouge problem? What’s going on?” You raise your eyebrows, your eyes traveling between Barry and Rafe.

“You remember that little fucker John B I was telling you about? His ass is alive and back on the island.” Barry shakes his head and lets out a dry laugh.

“That’s the kid the cops think killed the sheriff, right? Damn. That’s not good for you, Rafe.” You make eye contact and bite your lip nervously. “Those kids know you actually killed her, don’t they?”

“Yeah, and my fucking sister is with them. Her and John B were there, they saw the whole goddamn thing.” Rafe groans, his hands running through his hair in frustration. “I can’t have them opening their fucking mouths. I just can’t.”

“Then you know what you have to do, right? Shut them the fuck up, once and for all.” Your eyes darken and it reminded him of the way they looked outside, when you were holding a gun to your dealer's head.

“Yeah, no shit dude, that’s why I said we were going to deal with it.” Barry scoffs, rolling his eyes at you.

“Okay, I don’t know what the hell is up with you attitude Bare, but fucking ditch it.” You glare at him as you grab the couch pillow next to you and throw it at his face.

“Oh? You wanna fuckin’ go bruh?” Your cousin grins at you, gripping the pillow in his hand and swinging it over Rafe’s body, directly into your face with a cackle.

“Oh you mother fucker!” You let out a laugh, your hands go for the pillow but it’s ripped from your grasp.

“CUT IT THE FUCK OUT!!” Rafe takes the pillow in his large ringed hand and throws it across the room causing you to jump, your smile falling. “Barry, are you gonna help me or not man?”

“Hey.” Your eyes are soft again, you put your hand on his chest and rub soft circles onto his skin through his shirt with the pad of your thumb. “He’s going to help you, and I will too. We were just fucking around, everything’s alright. You’re probably under a lot of stress, huh? Poor thing.”

Rafe isn’t exactly sure how to react. No one has ever taken his anger and looked at it as more than just that, anger, yet here you are knowing him for all of ten minutes and the minute he loses his temper you see it for what it is, stress. Plus you’re kind of coddling him, and he’s never had anyone coddle him before. He almost feels speechless.

“I’m not gonna suck your dick about it like she is but I’m gonna help you man, fuckin’ relax. We doin’ this shit tonight?” Barry cracks his knuckles and kicks his feet up on the coffee table, earning an immediate glare from you. He scoffs, taking his feet off the table with a roll of his eyes. “I don’t know why you care so much if my feet are on the table dude, it’s my fuckin’ table anyways.”

“The drugs I put inside my nose are on this table, I don’t want your dirty ass shoes on it. It's common sense really.” He rolls his eyes and you flip him off, sticking your tongue out at him.

“Yeah man, tonight. I want to give this shit over with. I bet you anything they’re at John B’s. They’re stupid enough to go there.” Rafe’s hand is tapping on his already shaking leg and you can tell he’s anxious, you reach out and grab it, stopping his motions. He doesn’t look at you, but he intertwines your fingers, his hand squeezing yours. You squeeze his back and bring your other hand to his bicep so you can rub soothing circles on it. He lets out a sigh. “Once it’s dark, then they won’t see us coming.”

“Aight, let’s do this shit. Bunny, you in?” Barry raises a brow at you, his eyes lingering on the way you’re touching Rafe. “Also, I thought I said I didn’t want this to be a thing.”

“It could be dangerous, I don’t know if you should come, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.” Rafe answers before you can, his hand squeezing yours again in what you assume is supposed to be reassurance but it actually just pisses you off.

“Okay.” Your voice is stern, your hands leave him as you stand from the couch and he immediately misses your touch. “I wanna get something straight, right fucking now. I am not some weak little girl who sits at home while all the fun shit goes down. If that’s the kinda girl you’re into, you are not going to find that with me. I’m a ride or die type of bitch. If my man is in trouble, I’m helping him. So if you want this to be a ‘thing’ as Barry is calling it, then I suggest you accept that sooner rather than later.”

“And you, have no fucking say in who I do and don’t engage with sexually or romatically. Me and Rafe clearly have chemistry and I could tell that the moment I locked eyes with him, so you’re just going to have to get the fuck over it. Are we clear? Both of you?” You look between them, your hands on your hips and that fire Rafe is already becoming addicted to in your eyes.

“Whatever, your lil ass has always been fuckin’ impossible to control. If this blows up in your face I’m gonna say I told you so, cuz.” Barry snorts.

“Yeah baby, I got it.” Rafe cuts in, sending a shockwave through your body with the pet name. “I saw you out there with that guy, you might be tougher than Barry.”

This makes you smile, your eyes turning soft as you approach him on the couch. This time you don’t take the seat next to him, you sit across his lap, facing your cousin with a triumphant smile. Rafe's arm circles around your waist and you nestle in closer to him.

“Alright then. Glad we are all on the same page now. So what’s the plan?”

“FUCK!!!!” Rafe was pissed, he threw himself into the driver's seat of his truck, slamming his hands down on the wheel. “FUCKING BULLSHIT!! THEY HAD TO OF JUST BEEN FUCKING BEEN THERE! POUGE FOR LIFE SARAH?! HUH?! I SEE HOW IT FUCKING IS!!”

“Rafe…” You approach the open driver's door, gently resting your hand on top of one of his that was white knuckling the steering wheel. Completely unafraid, despite the fact that he’s still holding the gun Barry gave him in his other hand. “Let’s just calm down for a second, okay? We’re gonna work it out, they aren’t going to fuck with you.”

“ARE YOU SERIOUS? I’M FUCKED! YOU DON’T FUCKING GET IT! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FUCKING DAD! YOU DON’T KNOW MY FAMILY, IF IT COMES BETWEEN ME AND MY GODDAMN SISTER HE’S GONNA FUCKING CHOOSE HER!!!” His hands leave the wheel, weaving through his hair and tugging, the gun pressed up against the side of his face.

“Hey.” You put your hands over his, turning his face towards yours. “I might not know about all that shit, maybe not yet at least, but I know that when I say I’m going to do something I get it done. You aren’t alone in this, I’m going to help you, okay?”

Your voice is sweet, the look in your eyes is gentle and reassuring, and your hands? They’re so soft, and cool against his face, the feeling of them soothes him in a way he’s never felt before. He lets out a sigh, relaxing under your touch.

“We are going to deal with this, but for right now we need to get the fuck out of here. Those gunshots could’ve caught someone’s attention.” You run your thumbs over the top of his hands before grabbing onto the gun, pulling it from his grasp with a smile. You tuck it into your boot and lean up onto your tiptoes to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Yeah, alright.” He nods, his hands smoothing through his hair.

You walk around the front of the truck so you can hop into the passenger seat, Barry already sat in the back anxiously bouncing his leg.

“Okay, let’s take Barry back to the house and then I think you and I should go somewhere together.” You buckle your seatbelt and turn to face him.

“Yeah? Where?” He shoves the keys in the ignition and puts the truck in drive, pulling away from the Châtea and into the night.

“Just trust me, I know a spot.” You kick your feet up on the dash, reaching into your purse for a cigarette and your lighter.

“Every instinct in my body is telling me to tell you to bring your ass home with me, but you’re not gonna listen to me for shit so I’m not gonna waste my breath. Gimme one of those fuckin’ cigarettes though.” Barry leans forward, snatching the entire pack and your lighter from your hands.

“Yeah, you’re better off not arguing with me Bare. Fucking give those back though, dick.” He rolls his eyes, lighting the cigarette he took from your pack before throwing it back to you.

“Yeah whatever, just fuckin’ take me home man.”

“Okay, take a left here and on your right you’re gonna see a little road that goes through these trees.” You point out the window, directing Rafe as he drives.

“Where the hell are you taking me, huh? You taking me out somewhere quiet to sacrifice me?” He chuckles, looking over at you with a smirk.

“Mmm, I bet you’d like that, huh? Preppy rich boys like you always like the fucked up alternative girls from the sticks.” You return his smirk with one of your own.

“Ha! I guess you’re right, I wouldn’t mind if you spilled a little bit of my blood, as long as I could spill yours too…” he reaches the end of the road, driving into a clearing in the trees, a patch of lone beach in front of you.

“Yeah? That’s hot. Stop here.” He obliges, putting the truck into park and taking off his seatbelt. You do the same, turning towards him with your legs tucked underneath you.

“What’re we really doing out here, vampire girl?” His eyes meet yours momentarily before the trail down your body, taking extra time to admire your tits in your top.

“Mmm, well, I know you’re really stressed and I just thought… maybe you could take some of your frustrations out on me?” You lock eyes with him, your tongue running over your bottom lip before you take it between your teeth.

“Yeah? You brought me out here so I would fuck the shit out of you?” He licks his lips, his large hand reaches out to rest on your thigh, squeezing the meat of it between his fingers.

“Yeah, I figured you wouldn’t want to take me home after that shit you said about your family and Barry would probably either kill us both or have a stroke if you fucked me how I want you to fuck me at my place.” You said it oh so matter of fact, that smirk ever present on your lips.

“And how do you want me to fuck you? Huh, bunny?” His hand runs along the length of your thigh, stopping at the hem of your shorts. He grabs onto it, the tips of his thumb and his pinky just dipping under the fabric.

“I want you to fuck me like you hate me, take your frustrations out on me, Rafe. Use me.” Your voice comes out desperate and it makes him groan.

“I’ve barely even touched you yet and you’re already practically begging for me… you wanna be my little slut, that it?” His thumb runs down the seam of your shorts, stopping at your wet core. “You’re fucking dripping. I can feel it through your panties.”

“It’s all for you, want you, want to be your little slut so bad.”

“Fuck.” The hand not on your thigh reaches for your throat, squeezing it and cutting off your air supply in the most delicious way. “I’m going to fucking ruin you.”

He uses his grip on your throat to pull your face to his, smashing his lips against your own in a bruising kiss. You moan against his mouth and he uses the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips. You bring your hands up to tangle your fingers through his hair at the same time that his hand on your thigh pushes your shorts and panties to the side, burying two fingers in your wet cunt with little resistance. He begins pumping them in and out of you while his grip on your throat never falters. He pulls away from the kiss, his blue eyes almost black with lust as they bore into your own. His thumb finds your clit and your back arches, a loud moan ripping through you.

“Open your fucking mouth.” You oblige, sticking your tongue out and looking up at him through your lashes. He leans over you and lets a string of spit drop onto your waiting tongue. You moan as you happily swallow it. “Good girl. Want you to cum for me.”

His fingers hook just right inside you, rubbing against your g-spot and his thumb circles your clit perfectly. You feel your high approaching fast, you push your tank top down, letting your braless tits fall free. You grab them in your hands, tweaking your nipples, it causes your eyes to roll back and you feel that coil in your stomach about to snap. Rafe’s hand leaves your throat and grips onto your jaw in one swift motion.

“Fucking look at me when I make you cum.” He squeezes your cheeks between his thumb and pointer finger, causing your lips to pout. “I own this pussy now, that means I own your orgasms too, look at me while I take what’s mine.”

You open your eyes, and the minute they meet his your high crashes over you like a tidal wave. A broken moan leaves your throat and your walls clench around his large fingers as they continue to fuck you through your high. He pulls them from your pussy, holding them up to his face to examine them. They’re creamy white and glistening in the moonlight. You grab his wrist and take them into your mouth, swirling your tongue around them. He growls in response, shoving them further down your throat. You gag and he licks his lips, the sound going straight to his cock.

“Fuck, wanna feel you gagging around my dick. Get out of the truck and get on your knees, now.” He pulls his fingers from between your lips and takes them into his own mouth. The taste of your spit mixed with the remainder of your arousal sending his eyes to the back of his head. You follow his direction, hastily throwing the truck door open and getting out. You start to walk around the back and he stops you halfway, grabbing you by the hair so he can pull your head back, forcing you to look up at him. “I’m going to fuck this pretty little mouth while you kneel in the sand like the dirty slut you are. Bet you’d like that, huh?”

You nod as best as you can with the grip he has on your head, that sickeningly sweet smirk from when he first saw you earlier that day spread across your lips.

“Yeah, daddy, I want you to use my mouth like a fucking cock sleeve.” His eyes widen and a groan rips through him at the sound of that name leaving your lips.

“Fuck. Take this off.” He grabs the hem of your tank top and you lift your arms so he can pull it over your head. He takes your tits in his hands and squeezes them, the coolness of them sending a shiver down your spine and straight to your core, your nipples hardening under his touch. “Fucking perfect tits. Knees. Now.”

You drop to your knees and eagerly reach for the button on his shorts undoing it and his zipper in one swift motion. His cock is straining against his black boxers and your mouth waters at the sight. You pull his shorts and boxers down and it springs free, thick and hard and leaking just for you. You knew he would be big, but goddamn his cock is huge.

“Mmm daddy, you’re so big, fuck.” You spit on your hand and bring it to his shaft, lightly stroking him. That bead of precum on his head is practically begging you to taste it so you lean forward and lick his slit with the tip of your tongue. You circle his tip before taking it in your mouth and sucking eagerly.

“Yeah, that’s right baby, suck daddy’s cock.” His hands grab onto your braids like makeshift handlebars and he uses his grip to push himself all the way down your throat, causing you to gag around him. He holds your head there for a few seconds before pulling you off with a pop. Your mouth subconsciously chases his taste. “Oh you’re such an eager little whore huh? You like that? You like gagging on my cock?”

You nod and his grip on your hair tightens, pulling your head back so you’re looking up into his eyes.

“Fuckin’ answer me when I’m talking to you.”

“Yes - yes daddy, I fucking love it.”

“That’s what I thought.” He smirks down at you, shoving his cock back into your mouth and immediately thrusting into your throat. You gag and your eyes water, your mascara already starting to run down your cheeks. “God. Fucking look at you, I can see my cock in your throat baby.”

So much drool is dripping out of the sides of your mouth that it’s started to run down your chest and onto your tits. You swipe your fingers through it, wetting them before bringing them to his balls, caressing them in your lubed up hand.

“Oh fuck! Yeah, shiiiiit, play with my fucking balls, that’s so fucking good.” You look up at him and his head is thrown back, his neck on display, you can see all the veins in his biceps and the moans leaving him are feral. Your pussy clenches around nothing at the sight. Your hand travels between your legs and into your little spandex shorts, expertly finding your already slick clit and rubbing quick circles over it. Your moans increase in volume and it causes him to glance down at you, taking notice of your hand in your shorts.

“Hey, what the fuck did I say huh?” He pulls you off of him, bending at the waist so his face is hovering over yours. “I said that’s my fucking pussy, that means I’m the only one who gets to make you cum. Get up.”

He lets go of your hair, grabbing you underneath your arms and pulling you to your feet. He turns towards the truck and rips the bed open, grabbing onto your hips and roughly turning you. He pushes down on your back, and you take the hint, bending at the waist so your top half is against the truck bed. The plastic floor is cool and rough against your nipples and your lower half hangs off the truck, your feet not touching the ground. A harsh smack lands on your ass, causing you to help and jolt forward.

“You’re not so tough now, huh, vampire girl? Your pathetic dealers know you’re just a little slut who likes to get thrown around? Or is that just for me?” He grabs onto your shorts and panties, ripping them down to your ankles where they pool at the top of your boots. “Look at you, you’re so fucking wet.”

He drops to his knees, his tongue licking a stripe from your clit to your asshole and back again. He sucks your sensitive bud into his mouth and his hand comes down on your ass again. You feel like you’re going to cum embarrassingly soon. His fingers run through your slick lips before they’re sliding inside you, immediately hooking into your sweet spot. You cum suddenly and hard, your whole body shaking underneath him.

“Please fuck me now daddy, please, I want your cock so bad” you voice is whiney and you shake your ass from side to side, arching your back so it’s further on display for him.

“Quit begging, I’m gonna give you what you want, don’t be a greedy brat.” He stands, two harsh smacks landing on your ass. He takes his cock in his hand and runs the head through your slit, coating it in your wetness. He pushes into you in one swift motion, and immediately starts fucking you at a brutal pace.

“Yes! Fuck! You’re so big, feels so full.” Your voice is a breathy moan, his cock feels like it’s in your lungs and the door to the truck bed is digging into your hips but god it feels so good. His hands are grabbing your hips so roughly that you think his nails might be drawing blood, and god you hope they are. You want him to mark you as his, anywhere and everywhere.

“Fuuuuck, you’re so fucking tight, gripping my cock so good. This pussy was fucking made for me. Say it.” He leans over you, practically crushing you, but his cock hits even deeper than before and his mouth latches onto your neck and it’s like he read your mind because he starts to roughly suck and bite into your skin. Definitely leaving marks behind. “Say it. Say this pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy was fucking made for you, daddy.” You arch your back, pushing your ass back against him the best you can with your limited movement, wanting to feel every ridge and vein of him as deep inside you as possible.

“Yeah it fucking was.” He leans back, his hand gripping onto your hair again so he can pull your back against his chest. The sting of the truck against your hips at an all time high. He releases your hair so he can grip onto your throat instead, his other hand coming down to rub your clit. The feelings of pain mixed with pleasure sending you closer and closer to another orgasm. “You gonna cum already? I can feel you tightening around my cock baby girl.”

“Yeah - yeah I’m - fuck - I’m gonna cum for you daddy, you just feel sofuckinggood.” You’re a drooling whimpering mess and the coil is seconds away from snapping when he stops his movements and pulls out of you, taking your orgasm with him. “Hey what-“

Before you can protest he grips onto your hips, flipping you over onto your back. He grabs your throat and pulls you into a sitting position, grabbing onto your thigh with his other hand so he can pull you to the edge of the truck.

“I told you, I want you to look at me when you cum. You owe me for that last one.” He slams his cock into you, continuing to fuck you like his life depends on it. His thumb finds your clit again and his mouth latches onto your neck, biting down so hard you wouldn’t be surprised if you had a bruise in the shape of his teeth marks. You’d get it tattooed if he wanted. You already knew at that moment this man had ruined all other men for you. He had you.

“Fuck - fuck daddy, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum I’m gonna cum”

“Fucking cum for me, I’ll fill this little pussy up, paint your walls with my cum. Milk my cock, slut.”

His words send you over the edge, cumming harder than you have all night. Your walls convulse around him and your nails rake down his back, leaving red marks in their wake. But that’s not what does him in, it’s the fact that you never break eye contact with him for a second. Obeying him like the good girl you are.

“Fuck! Good fucking girl, best fucking pussy I’ve ever had. Never gonna leave you alone now. Never quitting this pussy.” He cums with a growl, shoving his cock deep inside you. He fucks you through his high, his thrusts never letting up, his face shoved into your neck. When he finally starts to come down he lets his softening cock slip out of you, his lips finding yours and kissing you with fever.

“Never quittting this pussy, huh, pretty boy? That’s a bold statement to make about a girl you just met.” You smirk at him, taking his face in his hands and caressing his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Don’t fucking care, I meant every word. You’re fucking mine now.” He turns his head to the side, placing a kiss on the inside of your palm.

“Does that mean you’re mine too? I don’t do one sided bullshit.”

“Yeah baby, that means I’m yours too. Come on, get your clothes on, let’s get the fuck out of here.” He places a gentle kiss on your lips, grabbing your clothes off the sandy ground and shaking them out before handing them to you.

“You gonna take me home now? Barry is just gonna love all the hickies I know you left on my neck.” You smirk at him, pulling your shirt over your head.

“Nah, I’m bringing you home with me. Gonna fuck you all night long.” He cups your jaw in his hand, his thumb running over your bottom lip.

“What about your family?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

“Fuck em, you’re my girl now, they’re going to have to get used to it. Get your ass in the truck, I wanna fuck you in my shower.”

You giggle, running around to jump in the truck. You didn’t even see his family that night. But they definitely heard Rafe making good on his promise to fuck you all night long and you couldn’t even find it in yourself to feel bad. Not that night, and not the next morning when he introduced you to his dad and step mom while they had disgusted looks on their faces. You just smiled, happily shaking their hands like you weren’t calling their son daddy until the sun came up.

Tagging moots who might be interested: @chrrymunson @emsgoodthinkin @imyourdaninow 🖤

#rafe Cameron #rafe OBX #rafe Cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x female reader #rafe Cameron smut #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x fem!reader #Dolly writes

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banquetwriter · 4 months

Text

୨୧ distant love pt:3 ୨୧

pairing: Rick Grimes ♡︎ fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ daddy kink :(, sex in a forest, low-key FILTH, OOC rick bc i wrote this with later season rick n mind :(, reader being mean to rick, Grimes being a massive simp to a women who isn't his wife lol

summary: ʚ when rck asks reader to join him on a run she remembers a steamy time in the forest ɞ

Words: 1654

AN: sorry for this being late and ooc i haven't written rick enough :/

Part 2 Part 4

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“Hey.” Ricks's southern drawl fills the empty air of the room. It was nice out today so most weren't hiding out in their cells. You quickly shut the book closed so as not to embarrass yourself. You clear your throat giving him a closed-off smile.

“Hey. What's up?” you ask, standing up at the prison table. Shoving your book and pencil in the little bag you carry around with you. “I uh need your help on a run. If you can manage,” he says, placing his hands on his hips.

You look down at your bag as you zip it up. “Alone?” you ask, still refusing to look up at him. Rick can't ignore the way his heart stings at your question. “No. Sasha and Daryl will be with us,” he says and you're trying to ignore the way his tongue flicks against his cheek.

‘Us.’ what a cruel joke you think.

Thoughts of Rick continue to flood your brain. The thoughts of his rough big hands tugging on your clothes like it was keeping you down.

*flashback to the quarry*

You step over a branch. Rick had not-so-subtly asked you to join him for a “run” today. This affair/relationship had been going on for a while now. Sneaking away, releasing all the pent-up anger both of you accumulated.

A twig snapped behind you. Causing you to stop dead in your tracks. You were far from camp now. No one would be able to hear you if you screamed…

Suddenly you felt big strong warm arms slithering around your waist. You gasped at the contact. “Well well, looks like I caught a pretty little thing sneaking off huh?” Rick’s familiar drawl asks, nibbling on your ear.

You let out a small giggle, moving out of his touch and spinning around. “Oh yeah? Watcha gonna do about it?” you ask, leaning in close to his face. “Officer?” you spoke the last bit in a whisper.

Your heart flutters at the smile that breaks out on his face. His beautiful face. Ugh. There go those feelings. The ones you have selfishly been keeping to yourself. He had a wife who was cheating on him. This wasn't that bad, right?

“Officer huh?” he asks with a sly smile. You nod your head, yes holding your bottom lip in between your teeth. “That's what I said!” you say with a cheery expression. “Yeah?” he asks his slow drawl practically melting your insides away.

“You know what? I might just have to arrest you for being so damn beautiful,” he says, leaning closer to you with every word. You roll your eyes at his cheesy antics.

You cross your arms as you let yourself walk away from him. You feel his eyes on your body as you start to walk away. “Where do you think you're going?” he calls after you.

You only turn around giving him a cheeky smile in response. “Oh, that's it you little brat!” he murmurs out. He jogs up behind you with a few swift motions. He grips the sides of your arms, pulling your body flush against his.

His strong dominant arms move you toward the nearest tree. It wasn't hurting you per se, but you couldn't deny the delicious amount of pressure that he gave you through his hands.

Your body collides with the tree. Rick’s hands slide down your shorts and panties in one swift movement. The air hits your wet and exposed cunt with a flutter. Rick silently grips your hips, forcing your back to arch.

“Open yer legs,” he says, hand trailing down to your clit. You whimper at the contact. “Sh sh sh.” he tuts, his rough hands slowly finding their way to your sensitive bud. You gasp as his finger slowly starts working.

You grasp the tree for support. You must admit this was not the most comfortable place to have sex, but then again who were you to judge?

You felt your knees wanting to buckle as his pace quickened. “Rick.” is all you can muster out before he slips a finger inside you. Then he slips another one. Fastly pumping in and out of you, fingers curling.

Ricks's eyes are glued to your ass. Touching and rubbing your plump skin. Wanting to spank you till you bled. Fuck you were so perfect for him. So wet and tight.

“You like that baby? You being good f’me?” he asks with a growl. Getting right up next to your ear. You don't respond only moaning as his rough fingers pump faster inside you.

With your unresponsive attitude, he completely pulls his fingers out of you. You whine at the loss of contact and orgasm denial. “Rick,” you whine out. Your hair is already starting to get messy, and sweat is forming on your figure.

“Oh no, I don't wanna hear you whining about yer daddy not giving you enough. Just flip over me,” he commands with a condescendingly sweet voice. You do as you're told slowly flip a round for him.

“There's my pretty girl,” he whispers, pulling your face in for a kiss. Both of his giant hands clasping the sides of your face. He inhales, unable to pull away from you for even a moment. The wet sloppy sounds of your tongues and lips crashing on one another.

His hands find their way to your shirt fiddling for a second to take it off. He slips it off your figure, unclasping your bra. He presses his body against yours again deepening your kiss. His kisses slowly lead down your jaw and to your neck.

They go even further as he starts to kiss and nibble at your breasts. “No marks.” you whimper out holding the back of his head, fingers curled into his hair.

“Sorry darlin’,” he says, reaching down the rest of your body. Placing wet delicate kisses down your stomach and the tops of your thighs. He looks up at you with those sweet sweet eyes. His hands push your thighs apart.

Waves of heat flood your core. He avoids kissing your cunt. Teasing and pinching the surrounding skin. “Rick, I need you,” you whisper to him. Your hands holding the back of his head.

“I know I know,” he whispers. He holstered up one of your thighs, pulling you over his shoulder. He starts with a sensual slow kiss on the top of your cunt. His lips grazed your clit.

You shuddered at the contact. You were already so worked up. It was a wonder how Rick hadn't had more lovers in life. His hands felt so experienced somehow. Rough and yet loving at the same time. God, you would have worshiped the ground he walked on if he asked.

His dark eyes peeked over your body, his tongue and lips slowly bringing back all of the pleasure that you had felt only moments ago. “Mm fuck.” you gasp out. His tongue licks wide long strides up and down your cunt.

His hand snaked around the thigh that was over his shoulder. Keeping it held there, as you started to buck your hips against his mouth and nose. The only noises were your whines that you tried not to make for fear of leading a walker to you and the lewd noises coming from below you as Rick ate you out.

You feel a tightening spread through your body. You crave the release as you moan more frequently praying to whatever god there was to let you cum all over the sheriff’s tongue.

Rick had a dark knowing look in his eyes, he could feel your walls starting to tighten on his tongue. He could feel your hot body begging him to keep going. “Rick, don't stop m gonna cum.” you whined, your body rolling down onto his mouth further.

He was nodding, begging for your precious juices to flow down his throat. His rough and warm hands on your soft body finally push you over the edge. Your head falls back on the tree, and your cunt squeezes his tongue. Your orgasm flushes through you.

Your breath slowly returns to you. Earth coming back to you. Rick pulls away from you grabbing your discarded clothes from the ground as you rest on the poor tree. He dusted them off silently guiding your body back into your clothes.

Rick Grimes was dressing you. His rough hands that were moments ago touching your hands with lust were now sweetly redressing you in clothes he ripped off. He re-ties your shorts and clasps your bra.

And all you can do is watch. This was the Rick you were falling in love with. Not the one who flipped you over to get his dick wet. The ones who protected his son to the very best he possibly could. Rick’s eyes make it to yours, brushing the shrubs that managed to find their way into your hair from the tree.

His hands clamp around your cheeks pulling you into a kiss, tasting yourself on his tongue. His hand moved to clamp on your neck so did his mouth moving down. You could feel him hungry to nibble and bite your skin.

“Rick!” you shouted pushing him off of you. “No marks,” you muttered, feeling your neck sting. Even if there weren't any hickies there had to have been a few teeth-shaped nicks.

You clenched your jaw and walked away from him continuing on your “run” with Rick. You didn't talk to him for the rest of the day. What was he thinking? Marks like that on your neck could get you caught.

*back to the present the prison*

You blinked back to reality thinking about your previous rendezvous with the man standing in front of you. Pretending like you two hadn't had an affair. “Yeah I can go with,” you mumbled. You bumped into his shoulder when you walked away making him scoff at you.

#the walking dead #rick grimes #rick grimes x original female character #rick grimes x reader #rick grimes x y/n #rick grimes x you #the walking dead rick #daddy issues #daddy!rick Grimes

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asmutwriter · 15 days

Text

Just A Lady (Part 4)

DESCRIPTION: After the party you go back home. But you don't go back alone.

A/N: The second half of season 3 came out yesterday (as of me posting this) and I am so excited to watch it! Sadly I go on holiday the day it comes out so I may not be able to watch it until the following week!

I do hope you enjoy this part - it doesn't follow the timeline of the story so no spoilers are in here if you are concerned. Just have some pure Benedict smut and fluff

WORD COUNT: 3383

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List

WARNINGS: brothels, sex workers, swearing, smut, oral (f recieving), fingering, biting, use of 'sir', soft dom Benedict, sub reader, hair pulling, unprotected sex, p in v

DISCLAIMERS

- I wrote this in my knowledge of sex workers and I am truly sorry if I got it wrong and/or is offensive, that is not what I intended to do and Im sorry if that is the case

- This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

You stretch as the morning sun leaks in through your curtains. Sitting up as you look around yourself. Flinging the covers from yourself as you head to the window. Moving the curtains as you take in the sunshine. Taking in a breath, admiring the view. A knock at the door brings you out of your thoughts. You turn to face the doorway.

"Come in". You say. A servant comes in. Smiling at you.

"Ma'am. Breakfast is being served. Lady Bridgerton asked us to come and inform their guests". You nod and smile.

"Thank you. I will get dressed and be down shortly". She nods. Exiting the room and shutting the door behind her. You go over to your bag. Taking off your shirt and placing it onto the chair. Putting on your day dress before you head to the breakfast room.

Ornate food layed out. You stop yourself from uttering a curse in shock at the sight as you see the Bridgertons sat down. Sitting next to Daphne as Anthony sits at one end of the table, Violet the other end. The oldest son giving you a very disgusted look as you pull in your chair.

A silence fills the room as they start indulging in the food. You grab several of the pastries. Stuffing your face with them. Looking opposite you, seeing Colin shake his head slightly. Silently showing you how to eat the items. You smile. Dabbing your mouth with the back of your hand before delicately eating the food laid out before you. Some time passing before Violet speaks up.

"It is getting quite late. What is the time?" she says. Looking around to locate a non existent clock in the room.

"Just after 10 am ma'am". One of the servants says.

"Really?" you say.

"Everything ok?" Daphne asks next to you

"Yes. Yes. I just planned on being home at 10 today"

"No do stay for longer" Eloise says. Smiling at you.

"I cant I'm sorry. I need to go back home. I've got stuff I need to attend to"

"No do stay. Please" she smiles at you. You tilt your head slightly.

"If she needs to go then we should let her leave" Anthony says "For the best, I feel" His gaze harsh as he looks at you. You try not to laugh at his obvious annoyance of your presence. Nodding as you smile at him.

"Exactly Mr Bridgerton" you stand. "Thank you for the food and the place to sleep". You pick up another pastry. "I'll just take this to go". Violet looks at you in a slight confusion as you take a bite from it. Turning as you head out the room. Picking up your evening dress from the chair as you shove it into your bag. Eating the rest of the bun as you push it in with your other hand. Placing the bag onto your shoulder before walking out the door.

It was a long but joyous walk home. A smile plastered on your face as you get to the brothel. In a state of euphoria as you change into your more mundane clothing before walking back home. Being greeted by your girls. Being bombarded by them as they ask you a multitude of questions. You answer them all. Placing your bag onto the sofa as you do your chores. Washing up. Washing in general. Plus the outside animals.

You tend to Rebecca. Her arm seemed to be in good condition. Not seeming to be infected and healing nicely. Going out to grab the clothes from the line as the girls stop questioning you. Well, more you started threatening them with helping you. Causing most to run away. Apart from Sofia and Daisy who started to help you fold the clothes up. The others off admiring the chickens. Playing in the garden.

The day goes by as normal. You all get ready for bed as the day ends. Piling into your overcrowded room at night. Two beds being shared between the 7 of you. It was a squeeze but you were used to it. Different experience to what you had the night before.

You wake up early. Quietly getting out of bed and getting dressed. You go to the chickens. Collecting the eggs. Heading to the house and placing them into a basket. There is a gentle knock at the door. You place the last egg down. Wiping your hands onto you dress as you go over to the door. Opening it your smile is met with confusion as you see Benedict outside.

"Mr Bridgerton" you say. He smiles at your obvious confusion. You step put. Him stepping to allow you room as you pull the door behind you. "What are you doing here?"

"You have my shirt from last night. Or the night before I suppose". You shake your head.

"No I don-" you think back. You remember chucking the shirt on the chair. The chair that had your evening dress on. The same dress you packed in the morning. In a rush. Not paying much attention to anything else. "I may have accidentally picked it up"

"I thought I'd come by and collect it first hand. If I don't take it back then word might get out that you borrowed it. And then rumours will spread about why you would have my shirt"

"Ah. We cant be having that". You open the door again. Going over to the bag as he follows you inside your small home. "How did you remember where I lived?"

"I may have gone to your work and asked about you"

"Yeah I'm sure that's the only reason you went to my work" you smile at him. Taking out his shirt and handing it to him. He takes it. Looking at the material in his hands. "You ok?"

"Yes. I'm fine" he looks up at you. "If I leave this here then it gives me a reason to come back tomorrow". You roll your eyes as you smirk at him.

"You read to many romance books"

"Or I'm just a hopeless romantic" he smiles at you. Causing you to chuckle.

"Either way, you need to get back to your family. I'm sure they're missing you"

"They probably haven't even realised I'm gone".

"Well... I need to do stuff today". you shut the bag with your dresses in "I have a day of housework to catch up on".

"I can help, if you'd like". You look at him. Biting your bottom lip.

"I don't expect you to invite me to a party then 24 hours later help me organise and tidy my home". You pause momentarily. "How about this - I'll be at work later tonight. Why don't you meet me there? We can catch up, away from prying eyes". He raises an eyebrow. A cocky smile on his face as his eyes dart to your lips.

"You want me to meet you in a brothel?"

"I can come round to your house if you'd rather. See your brothers agai-""

"No. No need for that"

"Are you sure? I think Anthony is really warming up to me".

"I'll meet you tonight". You smile.

"I look forward to it". He smiles back. Turning on his heel before walking away. "I start work at 7" you call after him. He turns and waves at you. Walking backwards you see the grin on his face before he turns again. Shirt in hand as you see him walk off into the distance.

You say goodnight to the girls before heading off to work. Telling them you'll be back later. You have a quick smoke before meeting with a client. A very, very quick ordeal happens between the two of you. Leaving him very hot and sweaty and you feeling... nothing. You bid him ado. Taking his money and placing it into your knee high sock. Wrapping a silk dressing gown around yourself as you go back out to the main part of the brothel.

You have a drink. A quick shot of whiskey as one of the newer girls comes over to you. Grabbing your arm, she speaks in a very high pitched tone. "You have a friend. This is the second time hes come here asking after you". She turns. Following her gaze you see Benedict. You smile at him, catching his eye he smiles back. You lift a hand, waving him over. "No what are you doing?"

"Telling my friend to come over to me"

"You don't understand. That's a Bridgerton. They are loaded. Plus he is handso-"

"Ladies" he says. His smile enough for the both of you.

"Mr Bridgerton" you smile at him "I'm glad to see you got my invitation"

"Is this your usual type of meeting place or?" Your friend speaks up. Smiling at him as he chuckles.

"No. Not usually"

"Ok. That's good. I think. Isa is that good?"

"I don't know" just as shes about to say something else you cut her off. "Shall we go somewhere more private?" Meeting the males eyes. Both of them looking at you. He nods. Standing up you hold a hand out towards him to which he takes. Leading him to a room and shutting the door. "I apologise about my friend. She's new and doesn't quite understand the etiquette yet". He chuckles and shakes his head.

"Nothing to be sorry for. She seems nice". He watches as you go and sit on the bed. Pulling the robe around you a bit more.

"I don't think I did ever say thank you properly did I?". He tilts his head slightly.

"For?"

"The party the other day. My goodness it was amazing. And..." you lean forward slightly. A smile on your lips "your brothers didn't murder me. Which I'm taking as a good thing". He laughs. Folding his arms as he leans against a wall.

"That was a surprise to be fair". You nod. Leaning back as you look at the ceiling. Resting your hands onto your lap.

"I still cant believe that you live like that everyday"

"We don't have a ball everyday" he says. You tilt your head. Watching as he makes his way over to the bed. Sitting next to you.

"Whats the point of having a house that big if you don't have parties in it at every opportunity" he chuckles. Moving his gaze forward as your head remains turned towards him.

"Its a lot of work. Gone into each party that is. The catering and the dancing"

"I can imagine it gets quite socially draining too. Always needing to say the correct things to the correct people". He nods. Turning his head back to you. "I don't think I could wear a corset for that long either". He chuckles softly.

"Thats why I enjoy your company"

"Because you don't have to wear a corset around me? Oh I'm flattered" you smile as his grin grows.

"I know I don't have to be proper with you. That I can be who I truly am and you wont judge me or think that there's someone better out there". He reaches forward. Taking one of your hands in his. His eyes remaining on yours as he brings your delicate hand up. Gently kissing the back of it. "I am grateful for our friendship". You smile at his words. Softness in your eyes as you look at him.

"You sure you don't want to take up poetry rather then art? It seems to be your calling" he chuckles. Looking downwards. Holding your hand in his as he rests it on his leg. Stroking the back of it with his thumb.

"No words I wrote could describe your beauty and grace. Only an image could do it justice". You smile. He moves his head back up. Your gaze falling upon each other. You move your body. Facing towards him more. Your free hand coming up and gently brushing the stray hairs from his forehead. Tracing down his temple. His cheek. Jawline. Your eyes following your finger as you use it to outline his features.

He brings his hand up. Gently cupping your cheek. Drawing your eyes to look at his. He leans forward, kissing you. You melt into him. Your hands falling to his chest. He brings his hands to the tie of your dressing gown. Undoing it. His hands trailing up the sides as he pushes the soft fabric from your shoulders. He moves away. Bringing his mouth to your neck, then shoulder. Kissing along it. You shut your eyes. A soft sigh leaving your lips as you bring a hand to his hair. He bites at the skin. Causing you to gasp. The suddenness making your back arch. Pressing into him more.

He moves his body. Kissing your lips as he comes in front of you. Pushing you to lie on the bed. His body coming over yours. Your hands coming and cupping his face. He moves away, about an inch. Looking down at you as you lie beneath him. You nudge his nose with yours. Brushing your lips against his. He smiles. Kissing you again. Then your jawline. Throat. Collar bone. Making his way down. Kneeling before you. Gently placing his palms onto your knees as he pushes them apart.

"So beautiful" he whispers. He strokes over your legs. Throwing them over his shoulders before he leans forward. His tongue pressing against you. Your breath hitches, followed by a low groan. One arm wraps around your hip. His hand resting on your stomach. Bringing the other up, he pushes his finger into you. Curling it once his knuckle hits you.

"Holy fuck" you drawn out speech fills the room. Both your hands reach down. Grabbing his hair as he inserts another digit into you. Dragging them along that sweet spot inside of you. His tongue doing wonders on your clit as mewled speech leaves your lips. His hand resting on your stomach pushes down. Adding just the right amount of pressure to your build up.

"Please. Please sir" you beg. Trying to grind your hips against him as he attacks your cunt. He hums against you. Wet sounds filling the room as your high builds and builds. You clutch at his hair. Trying to bring him closer to you. The continuing motions on you causing your orgasm to hit you. You squeeze your legs together. The filthiest moan leaving your lips as you let it wash over you. You breath heavily as he slows his fingers. Removing his mouth from you, he comes up. Gently kissing your neck as his fingers still move inside of you.

You run a hand through his hair. The other running up the length of his arm. "I-I want to feel you. All of you. Please" you whisper. Head tilting downwards so you can speak into his ear. He removes his fingers. Tracing his fingers over your clit, causing you to jolt. A soft whine leaving your lips as he moves off of you. Your eyes on his as he stands before you.

His hand goes to the bottom of his shirt. Bringing it up and over his torso. You lean up on your arms. Biting your bottom lip as your eyes scan over his torso. He brings a hand down. Undoing the button of his trousers. Pushing them and his undergarments down his legs. You take in a breath at the sight. Eyes going back up to his eyes as he gives you a cocky smile. Coming back over he takes your face in his hands. Kissing you harshly. You hands gripping his wrists.

He pushes you back down onto the bed. Resting on his forearm as his other hand stays on your cheek. You put your legs either side of his waist. Lips still connected with his as he removes his hand from your face. Lining himself up with your opening. He moves from the kiss. You hands gently running over his shoulders. Eyes watching your face as he pushes into you. Agonizingly slowly. You moan out. Your hands gripping at him.

"Fuck" he mutters. Filling you up completely. You wrap your arms around him. Your legs crossing over his waist. His chest pressing into yours as he kisses you. Starting to move his hips. A slow grind. His hand comes up. Resting near your head. You moan into his mouth. Moving away as your mouth becomes slightly agape. Soft gasps and moans filling his ears as he watches you. A smile continuing to stay on his face as you break underneath him. You flutter your eyes.

"Keep your eyes on me". You nod slightly. Opening them. Making eye contact with him. A gentle blush coming over your cheeks at the intimacy of the moment. "Good girl" he smiles. Kissing you. Moving his hand from by your head downwards. His hand finding where you two meet. His thumb gently stroking over your clit.

"F-fuck". You mutter. The blush growing more as you keep his steady gaze. His slow movements inside of you matching perfectly with the delicate movements of his thumb. "You f-feel... s-so good...". He smiles. Gently kissing your lips again as he fastens his pace. His thumb stilling on your clit. Pushing down onto it hard as his hips start to piston in and out of you. "Fuck fuck fuck". You groan. Your nails digging into his back. Every ounce of you keeping your eyes open as you keep his gaze.

"Sir. P-please". His smile growing. Kissing your forehead. Your toes start to curl. A moan leaving your lips as you feel your second orgasm hit you. Your legs tightening around him, bringing him close to you as you clench around his length.

"Shit" he mutters. Pulling himself out of your incredibly inviting hole. Seconds later feeling his seed hitting your thigh. You come down from your high. Shutting your eyes as he rests his head onto your shoulder. You kiss his temple. Stroking his shoulder blades. Feeling the small indentations from your nails being left on his skin. He kisses your shoulder before rolling next to you. Lying on his back as he shuts his eyes. His chest heavy as he regains his composure. You stand up. Walking over to where you keep clean towels. Grabbing some and cleaning yourself up first. Going back over to him.

"May I?". He looks at you. His cocky smile having softened as he nods. You clean him up. Gently kissing the centre of his chest before you grab your gown. Wrapping it around yourself, doing the tie up in the front. He sits up. Holding a hand out towards you. You go over to him. Taking his hand as he pulls you onto his lap. Resting his hands on your hips. You kiss him. A soft hum leaving your lips. Wrapping your arms around his neck before you part.

"We should do this again sometime" he says. His smile ever cocky as he runs his hands up your sides.

"That we should. However, I need to get back to work". He fake pouts. "Come on handsome. You need to get back to your home. And I need to get back to mine". He nods. Kissing you. His arms going around your waist. Pulling you close to him. You smile into the kiss. Shaking your head as you stand up. Playfully pushing his arms. "If I stay here with you then I will never leave this room"

"Would that be such a bad thing?". You bite your lip. Smiling at him. He smiles back. Grabbing his shirt and trousers he stands up. You turn to give him privacy. Hearing him shuffling as you assume he gets dressed. Feeling a hand come to your shoulder. You turn, looking up at him as his hand moves from your shoulder to your cheek. Leaning down and kissing you. You have to control yourself not to melt into him. He moves away.

"Thank you for a wonderful evening Isabella. I will remember it". He moves away. Straightening his clothes again before he opens the door. Turning back to face you as he gives you a last smile. You smile at him as you watch him leave through the building and out the front door.

TAGS

@runs-with-sciss0rs @nevillescomslut @lightdragonrayne @random-bouts-of-randomness

Previous / Next

#benedict bridgerton #benedict bridgerton smut #smut #benedict x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader #benedict bridgerton x reader smut #angst #fluff #benedict bridgerton angst #benedict bridgerton fluff #bridgerton angst #bridgerton smut #bridgerton fluff #benedict smut #benedict angst #benedict fluff

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juniperskye · 2 months

Text

Why are you in my head? Pt. 4

Sneak Peek: Eddie and you are soulmates. The legend of soulmates is that you start to hear one another’s thoughts around age 16 – not all the time, but when you’re feeling a strong emotion. It simply flows out of you and into the other, the legend also states that the closer you are, the more you can hear them. **The events of season 4 did NOT happen** I did also use some of the dialogue

Bold are Eddie’s thoughts; Italics are reader’s thoughts. (mind you, they are essentially hearing both sets of thoughts)

Eddie Munson x Fem Sunshine! Reader (Soulmate AU)

Fluff/Smut - Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

Word count: 2070

REQUESTS ARE OPEN - not edited - please be kind. Feedback is welcome if it's constructive!

Warnings: READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! My blog is 18+, minors DNI, Smut, explicit language, no use of y/n, fem reader, unprotected sex (wrap it up people), Also reader doesn’t go to the bathroom after (always go to the bathroom after sex guys), let me know if I missed any!

That being said I do not own the characters portrayed in this story.

Since you had shared your past with Eddie, things had been really good. It had truly been this big ugly thing just looming over you and now that it was gone, this whole soulmate thing was finally starting to feel like everyone had explained.

Since that night, Eddie and you were inseparable, you spent nearly every waking second together. You had initially worried that his friends would grow sick of you pretty quickly, but thankfully that hadn’t been the case. They had actually seemed quite fond of you.

Eddie had explained that they all liked you because you were just so lovable, but his friends had clued you into the truth behind their fondness. It could all be chalked up to the fact that you brought baked goods for everyone at lunch every Friday, you stood up for them similarly to Eddie, you were willing to chauffeur the younger kids around, and Eddie hadn’t been so hard on them in Hellfire since you’d been around.

Speaking of Hellfire, you were super excited because tonight was the first night you’d be sitting in on a campaign. You had wanted to sit in before, but Eddie had asked that you hold off for a while. He had told you that there was a new campaign that he had been working on and he wanted it to be the first one you witnessed!

This campaign would span over a few weeks of Hellfire Club meetings, but the gist of it was that the guys’ characters were trying to take down an evil ruler, there were quests along the way.

You went about your day as usual, going from class to class. Eddie utilizes his free period on Fridays to set up the theater storage room, but then he made sure to meet you at your locker to escort you.

As you approach your locker you see Eddie standing there waiting.

Ugh you’re so freaking hot!

I can’t wait for you to finally see me be the Dungeon Master!

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle as you finally came face to face with him. He pressed a sweet and sloppy kiss to your lips and slid out of the way so you could put your things in your locker. After doing so, Eddie slipped his hand into your own and led you down the halls to the room.

“Are you ready for this baby?” He questioned.

“Yes! I am so excited to see you in your element!” You gushed.

“Okay! Just uh, I can get a little intense, so…just be prepared.”

“What? You, Eddie Munson, intense? You could never!” You feigned surprise.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough! Let’s do this!” He laughed, nudging you into the room.

Eddie led you over to a chair sat right beside his throne at the head of the table. He gestured for you to sit down beside him and began organizing his notes as the boys began filtering in. The noise level rose significantly as each boy arrived. To anyone else, this would’ve been headache inducing, but you’d grown so accustomed to it that it was like white noise at this point.

You watched with careful eyes as Eddie’s nimble fingers flipped through pages and pages of notes for this campaign. Your breath caught in your throat as he passed a sketch of a beautiful heroine, she was ethereal, and the sketch drew you in.

She’s beautiful!

She’s you.

Your eyes flashed upwards to meet Eddie’s gaze. He held a finger to his lips in a shush signal and sent a wink your way. Next thing you knew he was commanding the attention of the rest of the group and informed them it was time to begin.

You were in complete and utter awe. Eddie was incredible, the way he commanded a room and just became the dungeon master. You couldn’t quite believe what you were witnessing in this moment. And even more so, you couldn’t believe what you were feeling. Especially in the apex of your thighs.

Eddie and you hadn’t slept together yet, you had talked about it, how neither of you were virgins, but you both had wanted to wait until the timing was right. And well, if this is how your body was going to react to him, then you were hoping that night would come sooner rather than later.

“And…That’s a MISS! So sorry my friend. You guys should discuss how you’d like to proceed.” Eddie Exclaimed.

Why is this turning me on? What the hell is wrong with me?

Eddie’s gaze shot over to you, he immediately noticed how flushed your cheeks and chest were, how your eyes were glazed over and your breathing was slightly labored. He couldn’t believe it; you were turned on by him being the dungeon master. In this moment he knew exactly why you were his soulmate.

You like that baby?

Your eyes met his, mortification flashing across your face. Eddie was quick to place his hand on your thigh to put your racing thoughts to rest. He gave you a subtle nod and leaned in close to whisper in your ear.

“It’s okay baby, as soon as we’re done here, I’ll take you home and take care of you.” He nipped your earlobe.

Eddie hollered at the group, prompting them to make a choice so they could continue the campaign. He told them they were nearing a good stopping point for the evening. And everything after that was drowned out by the growing arousal within you.

It felt like hours before the campaign ended. Before the guys were finally packing up their shit and Eddie was practically dragging you to his van.

He couldn’t get you guys home fast enough. Everything was moving so fast and while you were excited for this to finally be happening, you wanted to savor it.

We should slow down. Fuck. I don’t want to rush this.

“I was thinking the same thing.” You whispered.

Eddie pulled back and smiled at you. He grabbed your hand in his and slowly led you to his bedroom. The two of you sat on his bed and began making out, it was full of passion and love.

Eddie’s kisses began trailing down your neck as his hands began roaming your figure. Your hands moved up to tug at the curls hugging the nape of his neck. You couldn’t help the growing wetness between your thighs, Eddie was truly skilled with his mouth, and he hadn’t even made it to where you were most desperate for him. The effect he had on you; you were sure it was due to the fact he was your soulmate. It had never felt this wonderful before, it had never felt this right.

Ugh. I need you so badly.

“All you had to do was ask sweetheart.” Eddie whispered against the planes of your skin.

He gently laid you back on his bed and you moved to take your shirt off. He pulled back to follow suit and before you knew it, your clothes were in a heap on the floor, leaving you in your panties with Eddie’s fingers toying with your slit. Eddie was down to his boxers, and you were palming his bulge through them.

Jesus, I feel like I’m 13 again…about to bust because of a little friction.

You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you. Eddie stopped his movements and brought his gaze up to your own.

“You heard that then.” He asked.

“It’s okay Eds, I uh, I can’t believe how good this is either.” You smiled.

Eddie nodded at you and captured your lips in a kiss. He wrapped his arms around you and the world began to fade away. You had heard rumors about sex with your soulmate, but that’s all they had ever been until now. In this moment, everything you had ever heard about sex with your soulmate seemed to be an understatement.

Eddie gripped his shaft and directed it into you, pushing in with own swift thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your skull and a moan ripped through your body. Eddie’s cock had been larger than any other you had taken before, in that initial thrust alone he had slammed into your g-spot, and every thrust after hit it again and again.

Eddie continued on like this, his stamina seemed never ending, the light that shone in from under the sheet covering his window had long since faded. The sounds outside had switched from children playing to crickets chirping.

Eddie pressed his forehead against your own your breaths intermingled as another orgasm ripped its way through your body. Eddie caught your cry with a kiss, his own moan dying as your lips met. Eddie’s thrusts began to slow along with your heartrates. Eddie turned the two of you, so you were on your sides facing one another, his cock slipping out as it softens within you.

You nuzzled your nose into Eddie’s neck, the smell of his skin lulling you into a deep sleep. Eddie held you close, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

I love you Eds.

I love you baby.

The morning sun is what woke Eddie, he looked over to where you were laid out sleeping. You were face down, your hair was cascading over the pillow, the sheets bunched around your hips. Eddie ran his fingers gently over your spine, he had been in awe of you. You were stunning even after multiple orgasms and a night of sleep; you were laid here next to him looking absolutely breath taking. You began to stir, and he couldn’t help but smile at you.

“Good morning Eds.” You grumbled.

“Good morning baby.” He responded, “Did you want to shower really quick then go grab breakfast at Benny’s?” Eddie asked you.

“Mmm, that sounds amazing!” You smiled at him as you stretched your arms.

Eddie got up, leading you to the bathroom as he got the water started, he pulled two towels out from under the sink and told you to sit tight while he went to get a glass of water for the two of you to share.

Eddie looked over into the living room to see Wayne fast asleep on the pull-out couch. Eddie smiled to himself, this is his family right here, you and Wayne.

Once you and Eddie had finished showering, he led you back to his room to get dressed. He wore his usual black pants with a silver chain, a Metallica shirt, and his jacket. You looked over at him as you slid on your jeans and clasped your bra.

Where is my shirt?

“Is that it over there?” He pointed to a blue shirt crumpled over on his side of the bed.

“Thanks!” You reached to grab it. “Uh Eddie…”

“What’s…?” Eddie looked over at you and then the soiled shirt that he’d clearly used to clean the two of you up last night.

Shit!

“Sorry baby, let me grab you a shirt to wear!” He offered.

Ooh! Please give me that iron maiden one you wear all the time, it always smells like you.

Eddie smiled and reached into his closet to pass you the shirt you’d subconsciously asked him for. He slipped out of his room and let you finish getting ready for breakfast. As he entered the kitchen, he noticed Wayne sitting at the table sipping coffee while reading the paper.

“Morning Wayne!” Eddie greeted.

“Morning son. Is your girl here?” Wayne asked.

“Oh uh, yeah. She stayed over, is that okay?” He asked.

“Of course it is son. Just make sure her parents are okay with it before it happens and be safe.” He warned. “She’s a good kid Ed. I can see how happy you two make one another.”

“Yeah, I really love her Wayne. I uh. I’m gonna marry her.” Eddie confessed.

I am gonna make her my wife. As soon as I can.

My answer is yes Eds. Whenever you plan to ask, know that I’ll say yes.

Eddie’s face turned a bright shade of red as you came up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist, pressing your cheek to his back. You glanced over his shoulders to see Wayne sitting there.

“Good morning Wayne!” You smiled “You ready to go Eds?” You asked innocently, your stomach growling. “Uh, yeah babe. Let’s get you fed!” He laughed.

Tag List: @sashaphantomhive @silky-luxe

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salmonskinrolltf · 3 months

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this is soooo embarrassing. I can’t believe I’m even typing it out. But dude, I’ve been a gaymer for as long as I remember. I’m 30 pounds too heavy. I’m 27 and living. With too many roommates in the suburbs. And well. I’ve been watching Glee lately. And I just got to the season around college and I was hoping I could rent some tapes. See, I’ve got this major crush on Darren’s character Blaine and itd be awesome to always be singing and dancing and having fun. I was never a theatre kid myself. Any chance you can help?

Almost like a miracle, right when you considered ordering a tape from Be Kind Rewind, one of your roommates got a VCR. You suppose. You’re not sure which one of them actually got it, but it’s right there, plugged into the TV in your living room, so someone must have. The only thing is, you’ve had to wait until everyone was out to use it. You double check that the door is locked and everybody is out for the evening. You’re embarrassed to be seen watching the show, but you’re embarrassed for another reason tonight, too. Because renting this tape feels like a special occasion, you’ve decided to cosplay as Blaine a little bit. Your hair is neatly slicked back and you’ve donned a cardigan and bow tie to match his put-together preppy look.

When you’re certain the coast is clear, you open the (thankfully discretely marked) package and a die rolls out into your hand. Oh yeah. The die thing. Weird. You toss it onto the coffee table and it lands on 4.

When the VCR whirs to life, you hear those a cappella credit trills that indicate whatever episode that was playing has already ended, so you jab the rewind button, humming the music quietly to yourself. You scratch your stomach and realize the fabric of your cardigan is much looser than it should be. You lift it up and see that your stomach has shrunk, flattening against your torso, which seems firmer and more lithe in general.

Stunned, you gaze at yourself in the nearest mirror, noticing how the new outfit looks even more Blaine-like after your bizarre transformation. In fact, everything is looking more Blaine-like. Your eyebrows thicken and darken, your slicked-back hair darkening along with them. As your lips plump up and your skin tans slightly, you realize you look like a total Blaine doppelganger. Your dick hardens in the thrift store pants you bought to match the overall preppy look. You look just like your crush! You’re not even questioning it, you just figure you must be dreaming or something. But even if you’re only dreaming, why let the opportunity pass you by to admire yourself more… privately?

In a daze, you wander into the bathroom. Instead of the pigsty it normally is, living with so many roommates, it looks neat and tidy. Tubs of hair gel neatly line the sides of the sink, and the mirror is decorated with playbills, a photo of Blaine and Kurt, and a bumper sticker for a local Lima, Ohio radio station. Not only do you look exactly like Blaine, you’re now in what seems to be his bathroom! You admire yourself in the mirror.

A thrill of excitement thrums through you and you unzip your pants, rubbing yourself at the thought of looking just like your crush.

As you pleasure yourself, you think about the various Glee characters you have the biggest crushes on. Could you use this VHS service to become them all? The thought makes you even more aroused. However, when Blaine returns to your mind, your dick deflates. Suddenly it feels wrong to be thinking about him. You try to cycle back through the other characters in your mind, but suddenly only the female ones come to mind. Brittany, Quinn, even Rachel. Your dick springs back to full hardness and you panic at the sudden shift in your sex drive. You shove your erection back into your pants but not before cum explodes into the sink. You hurriedly wipe it up with some toilet paper.

What the hell is going on? As you scrub, you don’t notice that the gel is slowly easing out of your hair, which curls and falls over your face in a more lackadaisical, unkempt fashion. Stubble sprouts from your cheeks, chin, and upper lip, slowly growing into a short beard. Your clothes morph from your preppy ensemble into more of a rocker vibe, your shredded T-shirt dipping into a V-neck that exposes the dark, matted chest hair that has been busy unfurling across your newly taut torso.

Right when you flush the balled-up wad of TP, a voice interrupts your panic.

“What the hell are you doing in my bathroom?”

You turn to the doorway and see Blaine Anderson standing there. Wait, that can’t be. Weren’t you just him? You turn to look at yourself in the mirror and see a much more rugged, sloppy individual than the person you were just a moment before. You look like Blaine, but… different. Older, somehow. And more unkempt, definitely.

This intruder, on the other hand, looks exactly like Blaine. He also looks annoyed. He taps his toe and runs a hand across his impeccably coiffed hair. “This is why I asked Mom for my own bathroom, so I wouldn’t have to wait for you all the time. How is it that I use 12 hair products a day and you still take longer than I do for everything?”

You’re too shocked to say anything. You’re unsure whether you’re more shocked by the words he’s saying or the fact that Blaine is standing just feet away and you feel nothing about it whatsoever. As your brain sputters, your body kicks into autopilot and you shrug.

“The gays haven’t cornered the market on looking good just yet, little bro,” you chuckle, punching his arm as you head back out into the hallway, which now looks like one that belongs in a pristine suburban home.

As you head back into your room, you notice that it looks entirely different. No game consoles in sight, just laundry strewn everywhere and a mini basketball hoop on the back of the doorway. You absent-mindedly toss a NERF basketball toward the hoop and it hits the rim, flying back in your direction and smacking you in the face, knocking you back onto the unkempt mattress that’s on the floor without a bed frame.

You groggily open your eyes and look around. Where the hell are you? Who the hell are you? You rack your brains. Oh yeah. David Anderson. Eldest son of one of the lamest families on the planet, smack dab in the middle of Buttfuck, Ohio. You scratch your hairy chest underneath your T-shirt and check the time.

You remember you have plans to grab some brews with the boys this evening before seeing the latest movie starring that hot actress you like, so you’d better head out quick so you can hit up the gym beforehand. You throw on your gym clothes, grab your water bottle, and rush out the door.

As you pass by your little bro’s room, you see him singing along to a Mariah Carey tune and practicing his dance moves. You roll your eyes good-naturedly. Singing and dancing aren’t for you, but you appreciate how into it he is. You figure that, for him, singing and dancing brings him the same joy that going to the gym and playing ball with your bros does for you. You leap up to smack the top of the door frame as you head outside, barely giving Blaine another thought as you walk down the street, anticipating the awesome evening ahead of you.

#roll the die #Be Kind Rewind #Gay to Straight #Chest Hair #Facial Hair #Jock

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kitchen-spoon · 2 months

Text

southern Nights

Pre Season 4 Steddie set Post Season 3:

After the mall fire Robin's parents take her out of Hawkins to go visit family in August so Steve is left to cope without her after spending nearly every day and night with her. So he turns to Eddie who he had been becoming friends with all summer leading up to the fire.

Eddie has to leave Hawkins in August too to go live out in Kentucky with his grandmother (Wayne's mom) at her farm until school starts back up again. He offers for Steve to come with him because he doesn't want to go alone and he knows Robin is leaving and doesn't want Steve to be alone.

Initially Steve being his stubborn self refuses but eventually he relents and agrees to come. They drive out together and once they are there Steve calls Robin Everynight after dinner while Eddie's grandma's cat Bruce sit in his lap and gets attention and pets.

It takes them about a week and a half to start fooling around together after all the tension they had been building at the start of the summer. It Happens for the first time after they smoke weed together on the porch and Eddie teases Steve about hogging the joint because he is spaced out and says "Never learn how to share baby?"

One Night Steve cuts Eddie’s because it was in his face all day and getting in the way and Eddie had been quietly grumbling about it at dinner. He does it at the kitchen table after dinner and its the first time they kiss without having sex. A few days later Eddie gives Steve a small stick & poke star in return.

Steve always insists on sleeping alone in the guest room even after they start fooling around. Eddie hears Steve’s screams when he has nightmares, he always waits until he hears Steve leave his room and go to the porch to check on him and sit with him.

Steve refuses to sleep with Eddie because he sleeps with a little stuffed lamb from his childhood and is embarrassed about it. It helps with his nightmares though. One night Eddie finds it and Steve gets really embarrassed and tries to hide it but Eddie doesn’t let him. They talk and Steve starts sharing a bed with Eddie and bringing the lamb (Cloud) with him. One night Steve falls asleep first and Eddie see’s how Steve rubs its ear against his lips to sleep.

Wayne comes down for the last week of their stay to help move his mom from the farm and back into her home for the winter.

One night Steve has a nightmare and wakes up where it turns into a panic attack. Eddie finds him kneeling on the lawn in front of the porch head in his hands rocking while he mumbles to himself barely breathing. It's when Wayne was coming so he pulls up and sees that and goes to Steve and recognises that it's PTSD. Steve is mumbling about a plan so Wayne plays along with it, assures him it worked and they are safe it's over.

While Wayne is there for the last week they try to be sneaky but he catches on and calls them out when he catches them being all sappy in the kitchen. Steve is cooking dinner and Eddie comes up behind him and wraps his arms around his waist and kisses him. Wayne *ahems* in the door frame and they split a part, Eddie is out to Wayne so he is more embarrassed but Steve is scared. Wayne is like calm down boy, I knew it the night I got here.

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dancingtotuyo · 2 months

Text

Scathed 9 (Javier Peña)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, self worth, smoking, idiot(s) in love?, references to the drug war and colombia, Narcos season 3 spoilers

Notes: shoutout to my forever beta reader @janaispunk for looking this bad boy over!

Words: 2923

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry August 4, 1994 Dear Javi,

There are things I can’t bring myself to say. Even out on the back patio under the safety of the stars, I can’t tell you how scared I am that you won’t come back. It terrifies me. I did life without you for so long, but I’m not sure how to go back to life without you in it. We’re going to miss you alot.

You won’t ever see this, but please come back.

This time would be different. It ran on repeat in Javier’s head as he stared out the large windows that overlooked the buzzing city. New position, new apartment, new drug cartel. This time had to be different; he couldn’t get lost in it like last time. He took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself to start back at the DEA in the morning.

He unpacked his last suit case, having put it off since his arrival Friday night, the one that contained his few treasures in life. Framed photos from Chucho: the ranch, the two of them, an old family photo with his mom. A crayon drawing from Alejandra: both of them on horses. A bottle of whiskey from Jaime. A journal from Emily.

“To write down all those thoughts racing through your mind. Even the ugly ones,” she had told him.

He set it on the end table next to the family photo with his mom. This time would be different. A silent oath.

Alejandra’s drawing went on the fridge, the bottle of whisky on the counter, and the other pictures on the bookshelf. He looked around. It all felt scattered, empty, nothing like the apartment he’d made for himself last time.

The familiar urge to go out, drink a couple of fingers of whiskey, and take a warm body home crept in. He fought against it. He shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. This time had to be different. He’s promised himself over and over again it would be. He promised his dad he would call and write. He told Emily the same…

Could he be here and not let it consume him? Could he be soaked in it all and still talk to her? Be worthy of her friendship? Being here, he felt the sins of his past marring his hands, so real and tangible. The same hands Emily allowed to touch her, what a privilege that was. The same hands she felt safe in.

Javier thought about all the things he used to do when these thoughts raced through his mind when he couldn’t handle the big emotions: bars, cigarettes, sex. Too many times to count. His fingers itched at his side to grab his leather jacket and go.

He paced the length of his apartment running a hand through his messy hair. Then it caught his eye: something sticking out of the journal. He pulled it out.

A crisp envelope with his name written neatly in the middle: Emily’s handwriting. He popped it open. Polaroid pictures. He shook his head thinking about the grief he gave her for carrying that thing everywhere, but a smile appeared on his lips. There was one of him standing in the riding rink as Ale trotted around him on Hurricane. Another taken on the patio just last week: he and the kids eagerly chowing down on popsicles before they could melt in the Texas sun. He could see the red ring around Mateo’s mouth and drip down his chin as the sun beat him. One on the small dock next to the boys and his dad, lines cast into the pond Chucho stocked on the ranch. Javier smiled. Miguelito caught the biggest bass that day. Chucho had been dumbfounded.

He sucked in as he flipped to the last one. It was the picture Alejandra had taken at the park just after he told her he was returning to Colombia. She leaned into him, an ease rarely seen in her. He’d caught a whiff of her shampoo, followed her lead, and leaned in. His thumb rubbed over the picture. He’d put an arm over her shoulder, her hand on his knee it all looked so… peaceful, domestic even, like they were- He cut the thought off, letting the picture fall to his coffee table.

For so many reasons, that was a bad idea.

He padded his pockets, finding the Nicorette gum. He popped the last piece into his mouth. He should grab more on his way to work in the morning.

The Polaroid stared back at him. He looked happy, wrinkles cutting deep around his eyes. He picked the photo back up. He had been happy that day. Happier than he could remember even as he grappled with his decision to return to Colombia. Black ink on the back grabbed his attention. Don’t forget about us, okay? Her handwriting again. Her words to him that day.

He smiled to himself. That was his friend. He wasn’t sure he’d had one of those for a long time. Sure, he and Steve got along, but Steve was back in Miami. They still talked about once a month, but the bond he felt toward this woman was different. He and Steve had been forced together. They had to trust each other. Their lives had depended on it. Javier’s life sure didn’t depend on trusting Emily, but he did. She didn’t judge him. There were still things he hadn’t told her, and vice versa, but he knew when he was ready, he could.

Javier slipped the photo of them into his wallet. This time was different.

He grabbed the phone off the end table and called his dad. The conversation was brief. The last thing he wanted to do was run up anyone’s phone bill, but he could tell his dad was happy to hear from him. He’d rarely received communications from Javier when he was in Colombia the first time.

His fingers hovered over the buttons as he contemplated the second call. He told her he’d call. She told him to call. He pushed past the anxiety, pressing the buttons succinctly. He had it memorized. He checked his watch. It was bath night in the Kuykendall house. He knew that, but usually, the kids were bathed and in bed by now.

Javier smiled as he thought about the few times he’d stumbled into bath night. It was true chaos and an event, but every single person wore larger-than-life grins. It was one of the times Javier felt like he was a part of something bigger than himself, like he’d been brought into something sacred.

“Hello?” Anna answered. He could clearly hear the laughter of children and adults in the background.

“Hey, it’s Javier… I can call back if this is-“

“Not at all.” He felt Anna’s welcoming presence through the phone. “Emily just came out of the bathroom.”

“Bath night.” Javier chuckled.

“Exactly,” Anna called for her stepdaughter. Javier couldn’t hear their exchange over the shouts coming from the living room.

“Javier?”

An ache in his chest eased. “Hey, sounds like a madhouse there.”

Emily laughed and the sounds muted as if she’d shut them behind a door. “Dad seems to have extra energy to chase the kids down tonight. How is it to be back?”

“Strange.” Javier glanced out the window. The city flowed like it always did, people rushing from place to place. “I’ve got a nicer apartment this time.”

“Of course you do, Mr. DEA attaché.”

Javier chuckled. “That sounds too fancy for me.”

“You said the same thing when you bought those suits and I gave you that snazzy new haircut.”

Javier grinned, resting against the countertop. His eyes fluttered shut as he remembered the feeling of her fingers through his hair. His shirt stretched and pulled across his chest as he inhaled. “Still sounds too fancy for me.”

“You ready for your first day?”

“No.”

Her laugh crackled through the line. “Then why’d you go back.”

At that moment, Javier wondered the same thing. He’d much rather be back in Laredo chasing the kids around the living room. “I’m askin myself that same thing.”

“Then do it. Tell the DEA where to shove it and come home.”

He smiled, low chuckle pulling from his chest. “You and I both know I have unfinished business here.”

“Yeah…” Silence sat between them. He could still hear the kids in the background. Javier wracked his brain for the right things to say, but everything he wanted to say he couldn’t. “Finish it quick, okay?”

“That’s the plan.”

“And stay safe. I can’t lose one of my only friends.”

“Oh?” Javier said. He felt an easiness take over him. “What about Lorraine? I thought she was your friend.”

“I said one of, and you’re my best friend anyway.” He can hear her eyes roll. “I mean it though, we all miss you already.”

“Tell the kids I said hi, okay? I’ll call another night when there’s time to talk to them.”

“Will do.”

“Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I should be saying that to you.”

“Em.”

“I will. I promise,” she said. “You too, Javi.”

Journal Entry August 8, 1994 Dear Javi,

I bet you spend all day behind a desk and hate every moment of it. It makes me laugh each time I think about it. It assures me that you’re okay too. Fancier job means a safer job, right?

As his first day back came to a close, Javier felt like he’d been there for a year. When he found the sticky note with the name of a nearby bar on his desk presumably left by Neil, he told himself one drink wouldn’t hurt. This time would be different. The mantra felt almost meaningless already. Similar things had been echoed in his meetings all day. This wouldn’t be like Escobar. There would be law and order and protocol. Politics were more important than ever. The world was watching now.

One drink and then home. That was what he told himself as he sat down at the bar, ignoring his coworkers at the corner table. Pulling off his suit coat, he motioned the bartender ordering a whiskey. He turned down Neil’s invite to join the group. The guy was too eager to kiss his ass for Javier’s liking, put him up on a pedestal for taking down Escobar as if he hadn’t been suspended at the time.

He swallowed the whiskey as soon as the glass was set in front of him. Then, he ordered another. Javier wasn’t sure how long he sat there, but it was too long. He rubbed his thumb over the crease of his forehead trying to talk himself out of the opportunity for stress relief sitting in front of him. The group in the corner had dwindled to two. A blonde he hadn’t met and the brunette he met at the beginning. Neil had introduced her. Karen? Katherine? Katie?… Katie sounded right.

His staring wasn’t subtle, wasn’t flirtatious like he’d used to do it. If anything, it was creepy, staring at her while thoughts raced through his head. The mantra shortened until it was only a couple words as he tried to talk himself out of it. Different. Be different. It echoed over and over in his head.

The bar was practically empty by now. She looked up and smiled at him like he wasn’t being a creep. He didn’t return it, still deep within his own mind.

“Pretty girl.” Javier’s head snapped around to find fucking Bill Stechner of the CIA at his side. He slid onto the stool beside him. “Displays some shaky judgment in men though.” He looked at Javier.

Javier glanced away from Bill, looking over his shoulder as if to convey his annoyance with his whole body before turning back to him. He forced the briefest tip of his lips, the closest thing to pleasantries he could summon for the man.

As most conversations with the CIA agent do, Javier was left with a sour taste in his mouth, the innate craving for a cigarette, and his failures thrown in his face. Then, Stechner laid it all out for him, the way things would go whether Javier liked it or not. Cali’s surrender. The facade of justice for the Cali Cartel. He didn’t like it, any of it, and he wasn’t sure why he came back in the first place, or why they even needed him. The DEA didn’t. He was just a pawn in Stechner’s game.

“Cali will serve some time,” Bill said. He doesn’t look at Javier, keeping his eyes pinned to the bartop. “Technically speaking.”

“And that’s enough for you?”

The look that crossed Stechner’s face is something akin to a blend of annoyance and patronizing as he met Javier’s eyes. “If there were any justice in this world, Javier, you’d be in jail.”

It was only half a second before Javier averted his eyes, the shame of what he did flooding him. He wasn’t the hero everyone acted like he was. Stechner knew that. Javier kept quiet.

“I know your guys are running an operation on Cali tonight.” Bill stood, putting enough cash on the bar to cover his and Javier’s tabs. “I can tell you this, it’ll come up double zeros.” More silence. “These guys don’t make mistakes. You try and go after the Cali bosses, all you’ll get is more bodies.”

Stechner finished off his drink, patted Javier’s shoulder, and walked out without another word, leaving Javier with a bigger stress headache than he came in with. Try as he might, Javier couldn’t push it out of his head. He needed something, a distraction. He wouldn’t survive without one.

Javier finished off the whiskey in front of him. He rubbed his forehead, searching for any relief. Different. It seemed quieter now, further away like his resolve was slipping. He needed to be anywhere that wasn’t here, shut off his brain.

He stared straight ahead, eyes glazing over, shining in the dim bar light as he pinched his top lip between his thumb and forefinger. Different. It felt useless, like he was bound to fail. A whisper of an oath. Maybe there was no different for him.

It was almost instinctual, the way he glanced over, eyes meeting hers. She offered him a soft small now sitting alone at the table, cigarette held between her middle and pointer finger, like she had been waiting for him.

“This is Peña. Leave a message.” BEEP.

“Hi Mr. Javi! It’s me, Ale. I miss you already. You should call me soon.”

“Alejandra, who are you on the phone with?”

“Mr. Javi’s voicemail.”

“Ale, it’s expensive to call Colombia. Hand me the phone.”

“Oops.” She giggled.

A long sigh crackled over the line followed by a pause. “Hey Jav… I guess I’ve paid for the next couple of minutes, I might as well use it. I suppose you’re already working late since it’s after eight. Don’t let them work you too hard, okay? And you should still return my call.” More dead air. “It feels silly to miss you as much as I do. I feel like I haven’t talked to you in days… Oh! I got into that class I was waitlisted for. Anne is willing to work with my school schedule so I still get my hours in at work.”

“Mommy!” A voice calls out in the background as a crashing sound follows it.

“Shit” The machine clicked off.

Javier woke up tangled in his navy sheets with the same stress headache and a greater hankering for a cigarette than he’d had in months. Katie slept soundly on her side next to him, back facing him. Her brown hair spread out over the pillow. She hadn’t tried to cuddle, and thank god she understood what last night had been.

Without a second though, he reached for her purse, careful not to wake the naked woman next to him as he eased into a sitting position. Relief flooded him when his fingers glided over the pack of cigarettes and lighter.

There was no hesitation as he put the cigarette to his lips and flicked the lighter to life. The nicotine flooded his body for the first time in months. Finally, he found some relief.

Journal Entry August 13th, 1994 Dear Javi,

I’m sure it’s nothing. I’m sure you’re okay. Dad said there were no reports of anything happening. You’re just busy, with your first week back and all…

Alejandra asks every morning if you called her back. Mateo asks too. I think he’s hoping for stories of chasing down bad guys. Even Miguelito asked about you.

We all miss you so much.

Javier played the voicemail over and over, but he couldn’t bring himself to call back. He hadn’t lasted a day into the job without reverting to old habits. He’d fooled himself into thinking things could be different, into thinking if he did this the right way, if he brought down Cali the right way, he could be worthy of her one day.

The whiskey burned on its way down.

Journal Entry August 15th, 1994 Javier,

I swear if you went and got yourself killed on your first week back, I’ll never forgive you. I won’t even say any nice words at your funeral. Imagine that, your best friend holding back all the nice things about you. The world can just remember you to be the asshole you showed them.

Seriously though, signs of life would be appreciated.

…………………………………………………………………..

Taglist: @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @burntheedges @southernbe @fanyyoouu @greengirlwurld

@mysterious-moonstruck-musings @weho2kcmo

#scathed (javier peña)#javier peña x you #Javier peña #javier peña fanfiction #javier peña narcos #ppcu fanfiction #pedrostories #Pedro stories #em’s fics #javier peña series

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whorekneecentral · 7 months

Text

Shivers

Jordan Henderson x Fem!Reader

Warnings: based when he was still at liverpool because I've yet to come to terms with his departure, massive snow storms, reader is so over jordan but jordan is trying to love on his lady, some cheeky comments, playful teasing, showering together, specific warnings to behave are being ignored, shower sex, penetrative sex (p in v) fingering, finger sucking, oral (m!receiving), manhandling for a second there, lots of I love yous lmao

Word Count: 1,471

Author's Note: I'm still mad at jordan but he's my bookie so that's why I didn't take him out of the series loool

merry smutmas series

Jordan comes in after shovelling the driveway and keeps trying to love on you. You tell him that you can feel how cold he is but he makes sure to show you what cold really feels like.

A massive snow storm has come down on Liverpool all of a sudden.

It's something in which the two of you had never seen in all your years of living there. Usually, you get a few feet of snow here and there throughout the entire season but for some reason, you've acquired 4 feet of snow overnight; global warming is what you told your husband when you got up this morning.

The children had ended up spending the night with Jordan's dad. The night before your father in law took them out to see a movie and have dinner with his grand-babies which turned into a sleepover.

Jordan was meant to go pick up the children but given that it snowed, all the roads were blocked and the two of you were stuck in the house alone, until God knows when.

Most men would take advantage of the alone time with their wife, but not your husband.

You looked over the couch when you heard him coming down the stairs, the man bundled up in his hoodie and thick sweatpants. Jordan sat next to you, putting his socks on. "Where are you going?" You asked your husband with a raised eyebrow.

All the roads were blocked and most of the places weren't open yet or had not opened at all because of the snow.

"I'm going to shovel the driveway." He tells you, walking his way over to the front door to put his coat and boots on.

You got up, following him. "Jordan, you're not serious." You huffed, watching as he put his hat on, looking as dorky as ever. You bit back a laugh, waiting for an answer.

"I am too," he tells you, "someone has to do it."

"Do we even have a shovel ?" You shivered when he opened the door, a gust of wind letting some snow into the foyer. "Yeah, we do. I'll be back in a bit."

Jordan leans towards you, puckering his lips. You roll your eyes, a hand on his jaw when you kiss him softly.

You let Jordan go out into the snow and attempt to shovel the driveway. You check on him in intervals, shouting from the front door to make sure that he's all right and eventually you call out to him, telling him to come in because it's freezing out.

"You'll get frostbite!" You shout from the door, shivering. "Come in, Jord!"

You walk back to the couch, sitting down when Jordan walks in and shut the door. You can hear him shivering and hanging his coat up, as well as taking off his boots before he finds his way over to you.

"Don't even think about it." You warn him, a finger pointed at your husband.

Jordan smiles, dropping himself down on top of you. You squeal, "Jordan! You're freezing! Get off!" You giggled, trying to shove your husband off of you.

"I'm not freezing!" He says back, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

"But you are."

"Fine," the man huffs, sitting up on top of you. He smiles, "shall we take a shower then?"

"You can take a shower, I don't need to shower right now." You tell him, reaching for the remote on the coffee table but Jordan tosses it on the other couch.

"It's better with you, baby." He says, picking you up.

"Jordan!" You smack his back when the man puts you over his shoulder - something he's been doing for years, the same something you complained about every time he did it.

The man carries you to the bathroom, there's not much else you can do but go along with it. Jordan puts you down, letting you sit on the counter as he turns on the shower. The water hits the floor and runs down the drain as it goes from cold to hot as a matter of seconds. You can see the steam coming up over the shower curtains as your husband undresses in front of you.

"I'm not getting in there unless you promise to keep your hands to yourself." You tell him.

Jordan moves to stand between your legs, his boxers the only thing that's left to join the pile of his clothes on the floor. "I promise to be on my best behaviour," he whispers, his lips on your neck when he reaches for your top, pulling it off.

"You're already misbehaving," you say, the words coming out a bit breathless. He laughs, helping you off the counter, the two of you stripping off the rest of the way. "Says you."

"Me? I'm a good girl."

He smiles, smacking your ass as you pass by to get into the shower. "That you are."

The two of you stand there for a moment, letting the hot water run over your bodies, all the soreness slipping away. "That's too hot," he mumbled, reaching around from behind you to turn the knob and fix the water temperature.

Jordan turns it a little too much and the water goes from boiling hot to ice cold in a matter of seconds. "Jordan! What the fuck?!" You squealed, pushing him back so you could get away from the cold water.

He laughs, "sorry!" It takes him a second to switch it back, settling somewhere in the middle.

"God," you laughed, smacking his arm. "You're so annoying." You smile, now on your tiptoes to kiss him. Jordan’s hands rest on your ass, pulling you flat against his chest when he kisses you.

The warm water runs over his shoulders, spilling down onto you before he turns you, the two of you standing directly under the water. He takes another step, leading you to rest your back on the cold tile wall.

Jordan's hand shifts to rest on your hip, giving it a squeeze before moving down to pull your leg up a bit to rest on the edge of the tub. Your head rests on the wall when he slips two fingers into you.

Your hand gripping on his shoulder, "oh.. you promised you'd behave." you whisper, head back against the wall. Jordan smiles, fingers curling. "I'm behaving, aren't I?"

“Jord, fuck- oh, that, do that again.” You ramble out in one breath, chest heaving, his fingers curling upwards again.

He loved when you praised him, telling him how good he makes you feel. Jake brings you just to the edge of your orgasm before he stops, moving his fingers to your mouth.

Before you could complain, Jordan had pulled his fingers from you and pushed them past your lips. “Suck,” He tells you, feeling your tongue lap his fingers. Meanwhile, his other hand is wrapped around his cock, rubbing it along your slit, slapping on your clit a few times.

“Baby,” you whimper, eyes pleading with him, “god, fuck me.” You beg, your hand wrapped around his wrist.

“Hold on sweetheart, patience.” Jordan tells you, hooking your leg on his hip instead of resting it on the ledge. "What happened to behaving?" He teased, causing you to groan.

Before you could answer, Jordan pushes into you and his name falls from your lips like a prayer. His lips met yours, a hand resting on your hip to keep you up as he fucked you, your body welcoming him like he belonged there.

There was something about being in the shower together, homely and sweet and domestic.

His other hand rests on your cheek, pulling your focus to him. “I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“Hm I love you,” your hand resting on his jaw.

He can feel you squeezing his cock, your eyes fluttering closed. Jordan smacks your jaw lightly, “look at me,” he tells you. “If you want to cum, open your eyes.”

You give in, your eyes opening a little and his thrusts are sloppy, you know he’s just as close as you are. A few more thrusts and you’re over the edge, calling his name as you do.

“Where?” He asks, his head on your shoulder and you know it’s not gonna last. You push him off of you, sinking onto your knees. Jordan gets what you were doing, putting his cock in your mouth when you open it.

He groans, watching as your tongue laps over his cock, looking up at him through your eyelashes innocently.

He pulls your hair up and away from your face, “you’re so perfect, I love you.” He mumbles, another string of praise falling from his lips as he cums.

Your husband helps you up, giving you a kiss before you two actually finish your shower like normal people, your husband hugging you from behind as you did your skin care routine.

"What?" You looked at him in the mirror, "I didn't even finish shovelling the driveway," he whispers, making you laugh.

taglist: @nosugarallspice @evieepepi08 @mimithepooh @koufaxx @dannyramirezwife-simpaccount @topguncultleader @molliemoo3 @aisharmi @mamako23 @ac3may @lewislcver @miahgonzalez16 @books-and-netflix-pls @wibi96 @bwddermilch @pedrisgatorade @clarasenchant @sainzluvrr // @trentsfav @trentsmyfave @noturbabe22

#merry smutmas xoxo #jordan henderson #jordan henderson smut #jordan henderson x reader #football x reader #football x you #football x y/n #football smut

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rustyr3dhe4d · 5 months

Text

growing pains - ls2

*super disclaimer!!! this is actually a plot line i came up with for an actual logan sergeant fanfic but decided to scrap. that being said, i already came up with the character. anywho, this might be shit so enjoy anyways! also, i know i used songs that were written by other people but pretend that they aren't for the plot*

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

summary: after red bull let you go and you joined williams for your second year on the grid, instead of keeping quiet about what really happened, you write a bomb-ass album about it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

liked by logansargeant, williamsracing, and 997,325 others

dcasey29 growing pains. OUT NOW!

a piece of me to you. thank for the love, d<3

View all 4,731 comments

user3 oh i know that this shit is gonna be good

logansargeant forever and always proud of you🩷

↳ dcasey29 forever and always thankful for you🩷

user81 THE TALENT?!?!

user55 logans comment😢

williamsracing this will be on repeat in the garage💙💙 proud of you dylan!

↳ dcasey29 💙💙💙

lilymhe you are my favorite popstar🩷

↳ dcasey29 love you my lily 🩷

↳alex_albon hey, that's my gf. besides that, so proud of you dyls!

liked by dcasey29 and lilymhe

user44 red bull right now: 💀

user63 PLEASE, THE DISSES AT RED BULL-

user16 WHAT'S 4+4?!?

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

dylan's pov

i stare at all of the comments on twitter and instagram regarding the recent drop of my album. some are nice and some are not. "stop it. your album that you made is amazing." logan reassures me as he sits down.

"i know, i'm just scared on how christian is going to react." i turn off my phone and set it on the coffee table.

after my rookie season with red bull, christian let me go after refusing to take on the name as "red bulls slut-around-rookie." there was many more PR stunts i had to do, many of them pertaining to my love and sex life.

shortly after i cleaned out my drivers room, the red bull racing account on instagram announced my departure and was welcoming sergio perez with open arms. also later that night, james vowles the team principal of williams racing, called me with an offer for a seat due to alex being out for the season due to a shoulder injury in the post-season.

"let him react. his reaction will only prove you were right in what you wrote about him in your songs." logan places his hand on mine, giving it a tight squeeze.

on my first day at HQ, me and logan hit it off instantly. of course, our main thing in common was that we were both the only americans on the grid. after spending some time together, we ended up developing feelings for one another. we started dating a few months ago and people know, but we still keep a lot of things about our relationship private.

i move my head to rest on his shoulder, which he places a kiss on my head in response. sadly the comfortable silence between the two of us was cut short by my phone vibrating.

we both sit up and read the name on the phone.

christian horner (Red Bull TP)

we both share a wide eyed look before my hand reaches out to grab my phone.

"shit." i whisper, before hesitantly pressing the green answer button.

＊*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚　　 ˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

#formula 1 #fanfic #formula one fanfiction #logan sargeant #social media #f1 fic #max verstappen #daniel ricciardo #charles leclerc #lewis hamilton #f1 imagine

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she-karev · 3 days

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Maya meets Andrew DeLuca (Maya x Carina Sweet Imagine)

Age Rating: 12+

Chapters: Three of Three

Fandom: Station 19

Ship: Maya Bishop x Carina DeLuca

Canon Episode: Season 4 Episode 3

AN: Here’s the final chapter guys! Let me know what you think and like and reblog.

Summary: Maya and Andrew talk and get along to Carina’s joy.

Words: 885

April 6th, 2020

Maya sips her coffee sitting in the middle of the table with Carina at one end and her brother, Andrew at the other as they enjoy their breakfast. The conversation shifted to Andrew’s first day at work.

“Wait so you didn’t correct them when they thought you were an attending? I’m not judging I’m just…no I’m judging just a little bit.” Maya says honestly causing Caring to laugh, “Don’t be mad, I tell people what their doing wrong for a living.”

Andrew chuckles amused, “I don’t blame you. None of them actually called me an attending when I came from the scene. I told them it was my first day and they took it and ran with it. I was busy with the traumas, and it probably didn’t help that I stalled college for four years and looked older than the rest of my class.”

“It didn’t help no.” Maya eats a piece of the French toast that causes her to moan at the deliciousness, “Okay that is better than sex.”

Carina scoffs at that with a smile, “That sounds like a challenge.”

Andrew chuckles lightly at how predictable his sister, “And now I lost my appetite.”

Carina rolls her eyes and tells Maya, “Pay no attention to him, he’s skittles when it comes to sex because he isn’t having any.”

Maya chuckles and corrects her, “It’s skittish, skittles is candy.”

“And my sister’s insult turned around on her, this is a good morning so far.” He says with a grin sipping his coffee and continues to talk to Maya, “So a female fire captain that is very impressive I’m sure your coworkers love you over there.”

Maya groans, “Not at first but then they eventually saw my leadership skills after a few bumps and a bear in the road.”

“She told me about that too, she said it was at the pit where she first saw you. She was with a patient, and you were carrying a nose you ran with from the woods at the time. I gotta say it sound really badass.” Andrew says impressed.

Maya smiles at that compliment, “Well thank you, it was pretty badass. I also helped contain a bomb inside a hospital and delivered a baby during a blizzard but I’m not bragging.”

Carina grins, “It sounds like you are, and I was the one who helped you deliver that baby, without me calling you you would have dropped that little girl on her head.” Andrew laughs at that with Maya smiling knowing it’s true.

“I don’t do well with babies, not all of us have to deliver them from vaginas. Firefighters are usually trained to put out fires and break down doors with axes but that part I leave to you guys.” Maya points out.

“I guess it’s not a requirement for the Olympics either?” Andrew asks jokingly.

“No.” Maya says, “And if it was, I would probably be dead last which would be a first in my life.”

“I would win the gold.” Carina boasts causing her brother and girlfriend to laugh.

Maya’s phone beeps causing her to groan, “I gotta go my shift starts, I’m so sorry.”

Andrew shakes his head, “Don’t worry go save lives.”

“You too, it was really nice to meet you.”

Andrew grins, “It was really nice meeting you too. I can see why you’re the longest relationship my sister has ever had but it wouldn’t take much time to exceed the standard she set before you.”

Carina grins amused, “Again please ignore him.” Carina stands up as Maya approaches her and they kiss, “Be safe Bella.”

“You too.” Maya steps back and looks at the siblings with a grin, “I’ll see you both later?”

Andrew nods with a smile, “Absolutely, I would love to hear more about this baby in a blizzard and bomb in a hospital story.”

Maya chuckles, “I have plenty more stories to tell and hopefully more time to share them.” Maya leaves with an I love you to Carina who says it as well. The door closes as Maya leaves and the DeLuca’s are left in the apartment where Carina looks at her brother with an anxious look while he finishes his breakfast calmly.

“Well…?” Carina asks, causing him to look up.

“Well, what?”

Carina gives a ‘really?’ look at her idiot brother, “Did you like her?”

“Oh…she was okay.” Andrew says dismissively causing Carina to smack him with the dish towel over him teasing her. He chuckles and speaks seriously, “I like her, I really do she has my approval not that you don’t need it but still. She is perfection as you said.”

“I know.” Carina states with a smile and does a little happy dance, her brother chuckles, “I’m really glad you two met.”

Andrew smiles, “Me too. I’m really happy for you.”

“Thank you, that means a lot to me…and you’ll be happy too Andrea.” He looks up surprised she’s turning this on him, “Just give it time.”

He sighs but nods gratefully, “Thanks…Do you have anymore of that toast?”

Carina chuckles at her brother’s hungry attitude but heads to the kitchen to serve him another slice happy the two most important people of her life finally met and love each other almost as much as she loves them.

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gosmigenergy · 8 months

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KINKTOBER 2023 / Day Thirty One

( Triple Frontier Boys x F!Reader )

FREE FOR ALL

Summary: The boys and you decide to have a movie night where things start to go awry.

Day Thirty One of @absurdthirst's Kinktober

Rating: Mature 18+

Warnings: Language, mentions of drink, mentions of food, dry humping if you squint, P in V, unprotected sex (use protection irl please), fingering, mild orgasm denial, oral - male receiving, deep throating, cum shot no use of Y/N

Word Count: 4.9k

Author's Notes: How is Kinktober over? Honestly, can't believe I managed to finish this one but here you go! And I know I missed 4 days but I'm kinda proud of myself 🥲

“So what’s the plan?”

Benny was giddy. The boys were planning a movie night but from Santiago’s tone, he clearly had other ideas, something in the spirit of the season.

“She’s going to kill us,” Will shakes his head.

Frankie shrugged, “At least you’ll die happy.”

They burst into laughter at his comment. Santiago composed himself with a swig of beer before carrying on.

“Think you can rig something up to blow the fuses at Fish’s?”

Benny bursts at the seams, of course he could.

—

This was just going to be a cosy night in, Frankie said. The boys had been invited and promised to bring snacks and drinks, wear something comfortable, he said.

“Are you sure you’re not going to be cold?”

You’d changed into a fleecy sweater and shorts matching set.

“Don’t worry,” you wander over to Frankie and coil round his frame. “I’ve got four handsome guys to keep me warm.”

You playfully bop the tip of his slopping nose before joining Benny, snatching at the bowl of freshly popped corn.

“I’m not complaining.”

He wriggled his eyebrows as he threw some popcorn in his mouth. You rolled your eyes.

“The Blair Witch, really Benny?”

“It’s a classic,” he retorts to his brother.

“I don’t think I’ve actually seen it,” you say.

“See, perfect choice.”

You settle in between Benny and Frankie on the couch, your back against Frankie’s chest, his arm draped over your stomach. Your legs were thrown over Benny’s, the bowl set on your lap after they covered you in the blanket.

Santiago had already claimed the reclining armchair. Will was last, flicking off the lights.

“Can’t we leave one light on?”

“No,” they state harmoniously.

You pout.

“It’ll ruin the ambience,” Santiago looks at you from the corner of his eye.

You scoff, “You’re going to get a kick out of this, aren’t you?”

He smiles, returning his attention to the television.

Everyone has heard of the Blair Witch Project, know that it’s filmed on a handheld camera, grainy footage in style. What you hated was you had no idea what was about to happen, Benny did.

The jump scare caused you to jolt.

“Christ, querida, it wasn’t even that bad.”

“Benny grabbed me!”

He was shaking, containing his laughter as you swatted his arm.

“I’m sorry, Bunny, it was too easy.”

“Don’t make me fetch security,” Will joked.

From that point, you were on edge.

The boys were alarmingly quiet, you were pretty sure Santiago was asleep and just as the movie was nearing the end, the television went black.

You screamed and they all groaned.

“Is that how it ends?”

“No,” Benny’s brows knotted.

Will leant over the arm of his chair and grabbed the switch for the lamp. He pressed it back and forth with no luck.

“Power’s out.”

Frankie jostled underneath you and you straightened up to let him out. He stretched his tightening muscles, setting his beer down.

“I’ll check the fuse box.”

“You’re not going on your own are you?”

Even in the darkness, your eyes were wide.

“He’s a big boy, honey,” Santiago pushed the chair back together. “He’ll be alright on his own.”

You throw your legs off Benny, placing the empty bowl on the coffee table. Pulling the blanket, you hug it to your body.

“I’m not letting you go on your own.”

Frankie didn’t even put up a fight, just jutted his chin to your phone.

“We’ll use the phone light.”

You fumble to press the screen, nodding when the light fills the space and you follow him. The rest of the boys stand up, listening out for the door closing. The click in the latch has them sharing glances before they hurried away from each other.

In the garage, Frankie walks with determination straight to the box on the far wall. Maybe going with him was a bad idea, your phone light casting elongated shadows to play tricks on your mind.

“Can I get some light?”

You hurry over to him as he pushes up the red switches which fall instantly back down. He tries a couple more things whilst your eyes flit around the space.

“Fuck,” he brushes a hand over his whiskers. “I’m going to have to call someone.”

“Really?!”

He hummed, getting off the step, moving in the direction of the door.

“I’m just gonna get my phone.”

“No, Frankie, don’t leave me.”

“I’ll be a minute tops.”

“Francisco!”

He slips through the door and out of your view. It slams shut and you’re on your own, seeing it best to back against the wall. You keep your eye on the door but start shivering as two minutes pass without Frankie.

“Fuck this,” you mutter to yourself, heading to the door.

The inside of the house was eerily quiet.

“Guys,” you call out. Hugging your frame, you move back into the living room. “Guys!”

The light bounces off the walls and onto the furniture, it’s empty, the kitchen is also empty. Mentally, you were cursing them.

“Ok guys, you got me! This isn’t funny!”

Has there always been a draft?

There’s a creak, sounding like it’s coming from downstairs but it could easily be the floor boards moving on the second floor, your senses so heightened you couldn’t tell anymore. You keep walking around the living room, praying for another sign of life.

Something tickles your ankles and you hold your breath.

“Benny,” you kept your voice quiet, “if that’s you, fucking stop it.”

There’s movement in the corner of your eye but when you shine the phone light over there, it’s just the rocking horse Frankie bought his daughter. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, repeating ‘it’s just your mind playing tricks on you’ over and over in your head.

Clanging comes from the kitchen, a sound like all of the saucepans falling out of the cupboard. You don’t even look.

“Ok, that’s it, I’m out of here.”

You approach the stairs and the light on your phone switches off. Checking the screen, you see the battery power on the smallest red line and groan, leaving it on the shelf.

Thinking about all the horror movies you’ve watched, you take a different approach. The killers are always hiding behind closed doors. You use your hands to guide you in the dark, opening doors stuffed with coats or cleaning supplies or whatever and felt around. No, none of them were hiding in those.

Suddenly, there was a noise from above.

A bounce then another and another. Turning round, a ball tumbles down the stairs before hitting the floor and rolling away from you.

“You know, usually that kind of thing would scare the damsel in distress but it won’t, I’m coming up.”

You still tread hesitantly however, you’re not fucking stupid.

As you approach the landing, the only source of light comes from the street outside the one window. The guest bedroom seems like an unlikely place for one of them to hide but you check anyway, as you suspected empty.

You tiptoe back onto the landing and continue to the other rooms. There’s something beneath your feet and you yelp, jumping to the safety of a wall. Squinting in the darkness, you realise what you’ve stepped on.

“God, it’s that creepy ass doll,” you say, bending to pick it up.

You turn it’s face away from you and place it on a side stand before heading away fast. Immediately you go into Frankie’s room, suspecting no one would be in his daughter’s, he would have deemed it out of bounds.

“One of you has got to be in here.”

You open the en-suite, even drawing back the shower curtain but there’s nothing. Wandering out, you head go to leave but turn around to look at the bed. Your eyebrows knot and you decide to take a peek underneath.

Nope, nothing.

You straighten back up and sigh, wiping the carpet fluff from your outfit. It isn’t until the last second that you hear movement behind you before you’re tackled to the bed, screaming at the top of your lungs.

A voice shushes you and their body weight lifts from your chest.

“Will?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, had to take my chance.”

Your heart was racing, “What is going on?”

“It’s just a game.”

He pins your hands above your head and leans in, his nose grazing your neck. Using his legs, he pushes your thighs apart, beginning to rut against you.

“Will,” you say shakily.

“I can’t help myself,” his voice is husky. “I saw that ass of yours in the air as you searched under the bed and I had to have it.”

You whimper as his bulge rubs along the crack of your ass, the fabric of your shorts pulling into your folds. Shushing you again, he grabs your shoulders and holds you closer to him.

“Please, let me fuck you.”

He’s completely enveloping you, the rock of his hips making your juices flow.

“Ok but be quick.”

In that moment, you realised you had never known Will to take you fast, it was always slow and sensual. He ripped down his sweatpants before lifting your hips a little. Pulling your short’s leg wide, you feel his precum smear across your leg as he rests the tip on your folds. He guides himself to your opening before filling you to the hilt in one swift motion.

You cry as his hips snap back and forth, his body forcing you into the mattress. Your nails bury into the covers as you hold on, his grunts filling the silence the house once had.

And he goes on like that until he finds his release, his arms shoving you back so he could push his cock as deep as it would go. His muscles loosen and he falls to your side, his cock slipping out of you and settling on your leg, the pair of you gasping for air.

“Remind me never to ask you to do that again,” you say in a giggle.

“I will,” he says, “I much prefer taking my time with you.”

He pushes himself up before picking you up from the bed, smoothing out your disheveled outfit to make you look more presentable.

“The three of them are still out there.”

“Maybe I’ll just stay here with you.”

He chuckles, “You know I would love that but that wouldn’t be fair.”

Will bumps your hip to send you towards the door. You take a couple of steps before glancing over your shoulder at him, you can just about make out his face.

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

He knew you were pouting, unwilling to go with the worry of what might come next.

“Bunny.”

“Fine,” you storm from the room, stupidly walking backwards whilst talking. “But you’re going to have to live with the fact you sent me into the lions’ de—“

He sees the arms come out from the door, yanking you into the bathroom before you had chance to finish your sentence.

He folds his arms and shrugs, “I think I can.”

Santiago has a hand round your mouth, his other arm wrapped around your waist, pining your arms down as you protest, your attempts to fit him failing. He drags you passed the threshold and kicks the door shut, he knew that Will would distract you enough that he could make his move.

“Calm down and I’ll let you go.”

You stop writhing and lift your hands up into his eye line.

“Good girl,” he lets you go.

You turn on your heels and swat his chest, “Jesus, Santiago.”

He can’t help but laugh, that barely hurt yet you used his full first name, you were pissed. You fold your arms over your chest, eyes narrowing with a straight lip.

“Honey, come here,” he takes your arms and brings you close.

You try not to look at him because if you see those dark eyes of his, you’re screwed.

“It’s just a bit of fun,” he takes his thumb and index finger under your chin and twists your head. “I promise.”

“You owe me.”

He smiles, “Fine.”

Santiago watches as the smile comes back to your lips.

“So, how do you want me?”

He glances down, slipping his fingers behind the elasticated waist of your shorts. Moving them to the side, he grips the fabric and yanks them down until they fall to the floor. He plants a hand on your back and brings his mouth to the shell of your ear.

“You know I could hear you…”

His free hand slides down your stomach, brushing your clit before he sank two fingers into your messy folds.

“Moaning as Will took you with his cock.”

Your breath hitched as he started to pump in and out of you, the sound of your used pussy hitting your ears.

“It made me so hard, Bunny, had to stop myself from fucking my own hand.”

You sighed, “I want to feel it.”

You heard him smile.

“Climb in the tub and face the wall.”

He pulled his fingers out and observed as you teetered over to the tub and stepped in. You touch your toes to the other end of the bath, gazing at the pale green tiles decorating the walls. Taking off his jeans and briefs, he climbs in behind you and runs his hands over your ass.

You lean into the touch and he smacks one ass cheek and then the other.

Moving his hands up, he catches the hem of your sweater and pulls the front over your head so your breasts are exposed. He picks up your hands and brings the palms flat to the wall, pushing you gently so you turn your head and press your cheek to the cold tiles then your breasts. The chill sends a shiver down your spine.

“Shit,” you say under your breath.

He chortles, “I thought you weren’t going to get cold.”

“Dick.”

Spreading your legs wider, he takes his cock and slips in, gliding seamlessly through the mixture of Will’s cum and your arousal. He keeps one hand on your back and moves the other to your hip and starts to rock his hips. He allows you to become accustom to his cock before he thrusts in and out of you energetically.

You give a honeyed groan, your nipples growing puffy against the tiles, the stark contrast in temperatures stocking the desire.

“Fuck, Santi.”

The words encourage him to go faster, bending your back even more. Your hand comes to his wrist and clings tightly, your inner walls pulsing.

“Taking it like such a good girl, huh?”

Pressing your forehead to the wall, you cry out and it ricochets off the tiles as he keep hitting that soft spot. You start to vibrate as his hips falter, burying his fingertips into the meat of your ass before he cums after a few more strokes.

He would have made sure to last longer but they all made an agreement.

His lips come to your lower back and kisses the skin where the sweat was beginning to build. Lifting you off the tiles, he works your sweater back over your head and covers you up. You spin round and take hold of his hips, jutting his semi-hard cock to your mound.

“I was so close,” you grumble.

“I’ll make you cum later.”

You giggle as he climbs out of the tub and offers you a hand.

“So,” you cock your head as you step out. “Where’s Frankie?”

He shrugs, “He was with you in the garage.”

“He was, then he went to get his phone.”

Santiago arched an eyebrow, “Have you tried the garage again?”

You howl, that was the one thing you didn’t want to hear. He shakes his head, picking up your shorts from the floor.

“You’ll be fine.”

“If you say so. Now, gimme my shorts.”

You stretch your hand but he hides them behind his back.

“Oh no, I keeping these.”

“You’re kidding me.’

He grabbed the door, “Off you go.”

You couldn’t see it but you knew he was smirking, trying to catch sight of your bare ass as you sauntered with purpose from the bathroom. Heading to the stairs, you can make out him and Will in the darkness.

“Good luck,” Will waves.

You give them both the finger.

“Were you first?” Santiago asks his friend.

“Yep.”

“Not Benny?”

“Apparently not, she didn’t even mention him.”

“Shit.”

Benny was going to go on about this for weeks.

You burst into the garage with sheer determination, swinging the door open with a bang hoping to startle him but there wasn’t a sound. Somehow this space was darker then the rest of the house, loads of shelving for him to hide behind.

“Frankie,” you say tunefully, “I know you’re in here.”

You didn’t, you just prayed Santiago told you the truth.

Cautiously, you start to have a look around but it’s almost impossible. Every corner or massive tool on the wall appears like a figure in the dark and you wished you had a light.

You can’t see him but Frankie could see you from his vantage point.

He heard you swipe at something and you squeal as stuff falls on you. You put it back clumsily before stepping away from the shelves. He stays low as you move near the truck, bumping your arm on the wing mirror.

“Ow, fuck,” you rub the patch.

He waits patient for you to carry on down the truck. You’re tentative, head continuously moving, checking all the areas in the dark forest of the garage until you reach the corner at the back.

Now’s his chance.

You feel the hands come under your armpits, the creak of metal as the weight shifts in the truck and his grunt as he lifts you up and over. You fall into his lap as he collapses to the bed of the truck. He wraps an arm around your waist, using his knees to spread you apart.

“There you are,” you say breathily, heart pounding.

“I see you’re already missing your shorts, who took ‘em?”

“Who d’you think?”

He laughs, his free hand skimming down your stomach. One finger presses your clit and you tip your hips to his touch as he pushes his thick fingers into your opening.

“They’ve made such as mess of you, querida, and no one’s touch that pretty little throat of yours.”

His other hand rises to your neck and you tilt your head back to search for his eyes, how the fuck are they managing to see you? He stretches his fingers one side, his thumb the other and squeezes lightly, your pussy twitching around his digits.

Pulling them out, he brings them to your lips and you open your mouth. You twist your tongue around his fingers and lap up the concoction of you and Will and Santiago, a salty tang dancing of your tastebuds.

Frankie lets out a ragged breath before he takes them away.

“On your knees.”

You scramble to get up, spinning round to face him, wide eyed with a smile he can’t quite see. He gets onto his knees, dropping his sweatpants and prising his cock from his briefs, his free hand grabbing a fistful of your hair at the back of your head.

Guiding you to his cock, he spreads the precum over your lips before you take in his tip.

You lick the point, moving down to circle the ridge and hear his groan hit your ear. The saliva builds in your mouth and you coat his length as you work your way down to the base, his hand nudging you just that bit further. He brushes the back of your throat as his tip slides down. You pull back, keeping your eyes on him.

“You start, I’ll finish,” he says as you take him again.

You’re slow at first, feeling his veins and size of his girth on your tongue before you pick up the pace.

You bob your head up and down as fast as you could, your spit building around the edges and spilling over your chin. All the while, Frankie moans, cock twitching as his fingers pull your hair, scalp beginning to burn.

When you come back to his tip, he wraps his other hand round your head and takes over.

You keep your back straight, shoulders held strong as he thrusts in and out of you, his cock sliding deeper and deeper into your throat. Your muscles contract but you don’t choke, gargles escaping, replacing your voice. You listen to how he hisses, how he grunts before praises fall from his lips and into the darkness.

You can tell he’s close when he rams down your throat and pushes your head into his soft stomach, his body shivering as his length meets a depth it hasn’t before. He only goes for another five strokes before he buries into you with broken groan. His balls contract as the hot liquid spurts down your throat and you do your best to swallow.

He’s still cumming as he pulls out, his seed coating your tongue and cheeks until that’s all you can taste. His cock falls out of your mouth with a pop as you come up for air, his hands relaxing to your shoulders.

“You ok?” He searches for your eyes in the dark.

“Yeah,” you sounded a little croaky.

He tucks himself back into his loungewear.

“Who’s left?”

He knew Santiago would have taken your shorts, sort of as a souvenir but someone else had gotten to you.

“Benny, he’s playing hard to get.”

Frankie laughs, “He is the most competitive, I’m surprised I lasted this long.”

“Do you know where he is?”

“He was still downstairs when I saw him.”

“Would he be anywhere other than the living room or kitchen?”

“Did you try the basement?”

“Why would I try the basement? It’s scary enough in here.”

“You do realise the basement’s almost done? There’s been a pool table down there for weeks.”

“Really?”

He shakes his head, “You’re lucky I love you, Bunny.”

He hops down from the bed of truck and waits for you to get up, coiling his arms underneath your ass and placing you on the floor. As he straightens up, he smooths his palms over your ass and sinks his fingertips into the meat of it. He tipped his head and placed a kiss delicately on your lips.

“You better go.”

You head towards the door before you turn round to face him.

“This game you guys are playing, what’s the prize?”

“Whoever finds you last gets to make you cum.”

You giggle, walking away and out of the door. The main reason you avoided the basement was because, again, you thought it would be out of bounds. The last time you had seen it, it was a construction sight, tools and dirt everywhere. Frankie hadn’t invited you down since, how were you supposed to know it was near completion?

Instinctively you tried the light switch, cursing when you remembered it wouldn’t come on.

You take the steps one by one, hand holding onto the wall because you were terrified of just tumbling down. When you looked over and squinted you were sure you could see Benny, leaning on the pool table.

“Hey, Bunny.”

“You’re not even hiding,” you say, going down the last couple of steps.

“Not when I know I can claim my prize.”

You knew he was smirking, eyes roaming your body.

“You did all that spooky shit on purpose?”

He hummed, “It’s why we watched a scary movie too.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t.”

You find his body in the dark and wrap your arms around his body, worming under his t-shirt to press your palms on his warm back. He tilts your head up from his chest, bringing his lips to yours softly before kissing again with force. His other hand runs along your back and down to your ass cheeks, he lifts his palm before smacking you.

As you gasp, he slips his tongue into your mouth and yours melds with his.

The corner of his lips twitch, he can taste one of the other guy’s cum on your tongue, guessing it was Frankie with the freshness. Both his hands are now on your ass and he picks you off your feet, onto the edge of the pool table. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his hips as you jut your chin into his.

He pulls back to catch his breath.

“Get into the centre of the table,” he says.

“Benny, it’ll break.”

“It won’t,” he moves his lips to your ears, pushing back your hair. “Into the centre of the table.”

The grittiness of his tone has you shuffling back immediately and he wished he could see your face, the doe eyes and plumping parted lips. You spread your legs ready for him, propped yourself onto your elbows though you can only just make him out.

He places his ass on the edge then swings his legs up, crawling on his hands and knees. He brushes a palm up from your ankle, feeling you shiver underneath his touch. Dropping his head, he nudges the tip of his nose over your thigh before kissing the skin. You weren’t going to need much playing with.

Your hips and back were already tingling, belly warm from the other three.

He kisses your bikini line to your mound, his tongue unfurling over your clit before he began to suck.

Your back meet the pool table, a gasp escaping your lips. He gradually flexes his jaw and pulls you into his mouth further, one of your hands reaching for his hair. You push your hips up, rutting against his face as you chase your release.

Then he stops and straightens up, pulling away from your hand.

“No, don’t stop.”

You scream in frustration and all he can do is chuckle, head shaking.

“We’re gonna cum together, ok?”

“You promise?”

You’d already had your release snatched away from you once and Benny could be just as bad as Santiago when it came to orgasm denial.

“I promise.”

He yanked down his shorts, his hardened cock swinging freely as he grabbed your hips and dragged you closer. You hiss as he rearranges you,not caring about the friction burn from the green mat as you top bunches up your back.

Taking his cock in his hand, he lines up to your pussy, brushing the tip between your inner and outer lips.

You’re no longer complaining instead you give a honeyed moan.

He pushes his tip into you, smoothing his other hand down your leg and grabbing your ankle, moving it to his shoulder. Putting both of his hands either side of your waist, he lifts up your hips before plunging into you.

Wherever he hits, it takes the air from your lungs.

He’s not gentle, equally as pent up as you as he thrusts into you over and over. Your head has fallen back, jaw slack as your choked cries come deep from within. With each snap, he grunts, his body folding into you. His hot breath dances over your stomach, your desire swelling, threatening to burst.

Even in the darkness, you’re starting to see stars, head dizzy with the lack of oxygen. Your inner walls are fluttering, barely holding together and you hear his voice break through the fog.

“Hold on, Bunny, I’m almost there.”

He continued at his fast pace as you whimper, screwing your eye shut. Your hands come loosely to his wrist, unable to hold on as your body ripples with his strength. The bottom of your spine starts to burn, hips quivering.

Benny shows no sign of stopping but his cock jerks inside you. He wants nothing more than to see your face, your elongated neck, your mouth shaped into that perfect little ‘o’. His hand slips between your searing bodies, fingers teasing at your clit as he softly rubs at the bundle of nerves.

“Fuck,” the word barely leaves your throat.

Then he matches it to his motions, swiping back and forth vigorously.

Your back arched, a perfect curve as your cunt clung to his length, trapping him within you as you screamed his name. He keeps moving his hand, the nerves shooting up your spine before scattering across your body, your toes curling. The muscles in his ass and thighs grows tense and, roughly, he pulls out his cock.

He milks himself over you, spilling his seed over your mound and your stomach, heavy droplets landing on your hands.

“Oh god,” he groans, “I wish I could see you now.”

You giggle in the haze of your orgasm.

There’s the sound of the door handle moving, the creak of the frame and the lights come on above you.

“Shit, Bunny.”

You really were a mess, lips glossy with saliva and Frankie’s dried cum. Creamy white trails from Benny and your pussy soaked with your juices, along with Santiago and Will. Your hair was tangled, shorts non-existent and your top almost showing your breasts.

“For fuck’s sake,” Frankie charged down the stairs.

“Sorry, Fish, had to christen the pool table somehow.”

He scoffed, “You could have waited for me.”

Will and Santiago followed the noise, coming down the stairs before they all surrounded the pool table to admire the view.

“You ok?”

“Just, catching my breath.”

Santiago smiled at your slurred words, “We’ll clean you up when you’re ready, maybe you could finally find out how the movie ends.”

“Nah, I’m good… I much prefer this ending.”

#kinktober 2023 #triple frontier #triple frontier x reader #santiago garcia #frankie catfish morales #will ironhead miller #benny miller #kinktober

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