#starting to do hot shot driving
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eddywoww · 1 year ago
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Mild life update:
Everything is still going pretty terrible. My partner and I are examining one of two options we have and haven’t decided what exactly were going to do. There’s just a lot going on out of my control and I live every day in constant anxiety and worry, so if I haven’t been posting or talking much, that’s why.
I would love to just…..go off and do what I want to do with my life but it’s difficult rn and I’m worried about too many members of my family. So yep, I’m sorry for not answering stuff. I’ve been in a horrible depressive fog that is only being made worse and I keep trying to hold out hope but it feels almost impossible
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mrsbarnesblog · 3 months ago
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the "it" couple
masterlist
requests are open
summary: you and Rafe being the hottest couple on the island
word count: 1.3k.
warnings: established relationship, mentions of sex, mentions of nude pictures, Rafe is reader's first everything, you're both lovesick
a/n: my obsession with soft and painfully in love Rafe is not curable at this point. but like could you imagine having him all to yourself?? ughhh the things i'd let him do to me😩
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Everyone knew that there are couples that, at first glance, give you the impression that they just have really good sex. Like they are so hot and perfectly compliment each other, with a certain vibe oozing out of them, especially when they are together. 
You and Rafe were that couple. 
Before you started dating, no one ever considered that two polar opposites like you might even coexist. You were a kook, but still completely different from Rafe and his little gang. You were pretty, but more on the quiet side, never showing off or bothering anybody.
Rafe, on the other hand, was mean and sarcastic to everyone and everything. It was a good thing that you put him in his place the first time he talked to you, making it clear that you are not having his shit. And also making Rafe instantly interested and following you like a puppy.
You were annoyingly teasing and flirting with each other, and everyone tried not to get involved in whatever was going on. It was your first experience with a guy, because before that, nobody was really making their shots, or, at least, you never paid enough attention to notice it, choosing to focus on yourself. But with Rafe, it felt fun and so damn easy. 
Your first kiss set everything in its place because you finally gave in to your hidden emotions. It made sense why you were always arguing and pestering each other—you simply craved attention from one another and it was the easiest way to get it. 
Surprisingly, Rafe’s rough edges softened, especially around you, and he was so affectionate and craved you around him 24/7. Though, knowing that you’ve never been in relationships before, he never pushed you to do anything, just following your pace. 
But after your first time happened in the third month of dating, after the ice melted and your insecurities fully disappeared, Rafe almost got another version of his girlfriend. 
If he thought that you couldn’t be better, then he was wrong. 
He never understood his friends who said that they had to almost beg their girlfriends to have sex, mostly because Rafe had never been in actual relationships before. But it made even less sense for him because you, seemingly, had the same energy and high sex drive as him. 
The first few times may have been slightly awkward with you still learning and trying to understand your own body, but once you got confident, you became unstoppable. 
Whether it was early morning, the middle of the day, or way past your bedtime, you were ready to have sex right away, straddling Rafe's legs or luring him into a kiss while your hands slipped under his pants.  
It was crazy how much you both wanted each other. It was a perfect fucking match to have someone with exactly the same needs. You probably have been bent over every single flat surface in the house and not a single room was safe from the two of you. He wanted you all to himself and he could go hours just worshiping your body and fucking you into bliss. 
You were almost glued together, never coming to an event alone. Rafe was so obsessed with the way you looked, with your smell, and with the feeling of your skin on his, so he always had to touch you one way or another. His friends teased him that he was absolutely pussy whipped for you and he had never denied it. They also started calling you Mrs. Cameron because you acted like a married couple and neither of you were against that nickname.
To say more, the idea of that made Rafe so feral for you, so he didn’t let you get out of bed the following day. Not that you complained, though.
Rafe loved sneaking out with you. Whenever you two had to visit a gala with your families, he always snatched you from the main room to drag you to the bathroom or another hidden place to have a quickie or to burry his head under your dress because you were too hot to resist. Yeah, maybe other people noticed it, giving you their usual politely awkward smiles, but neither of you care. 
On his birthday, you gave him the best fucking gift, which was a stack of your naked polaroid pictures. You were really nervous to do that, thinking that Rafe might react differently, but he reminded you once again why he was your perfect match. After looking through the photos several times, he literally attacked you, throwing you back on the bed and giving you the best orgasms of your life. 
Since that day, one of the less explicit pictures of your ass has been placed in his wallet.
You were officially the “it” couple on the island, with everyone either admiring or being jealous of that spark, which never seemed to diminish. Everyone saw the way the Rafe Cameron gave you heart eyes, soft smiles and gentle kisses. The way he held you close to himself, protecting you, taking care of you, and treating you like a queen.
Some people told you that it was only the excitement of a new relationship, but after a few years of dating, with a promise ring on your finger, it was still there. You still craved each other's touch; you still craved being together whenever it was possible, always going on dates and trips, attending all of Kook’s events, but mostly spending lazy days in your shared house. Sex was even better than before—more passionate, fun, hot and full of unconditional love.
Despite the gossip on the island, Rafe didn't get “bored” of you. No, over time, he became addicted to you because you felt like home, and there was nothing better than being with you. 
He didn't need any other women. And he still couldn't grasp the idea of cheating. If he had you, then why on earth would he do that? Every time he came home, the best person in the world and the best sex of his life were in that exact location, so he never complained about anything.
You were his afrodisiac and whether you were in full glam, in a bikini on the beach or in his old t-shirt with messy hair, he couldn’t just keep his hands to himself and not kiss the air out of you. 
He liked how you stayed at home, doing whatever you wanted and treating yourself while he worked. You always greeted him with homemade food, but more importantly, you acted as if you had not seen him in months.
You were waiting on the porch or finishing up in the kitchen, but when you saw him, you ran and jumped into his arms and pulled him into a kiss. It always melted Rafe’s worries and bad mood away, as his shoulders sagged in relief from being in your arms again. 
You always ended up in your bedroom, with you on or under him, while your hands were tugging at each other’s closes. Rafe knew that it would eventually end up with him finally putting a baby in you—something that more and more flooded his mind—but for the foreseeable future, he first had to officially make you his Mrs. Cameron.
And the red box with the big ass diamond ring, which was currently sitting in the drawer, was just waiting for the perfect moment.  
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disgustingtwitches · 3 months ago
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MDNI
Working at a restaurant with 141! (Part 1)
Let's get this out of the way, the restaurant fucking sucks. Don't even know how it's still open. The food is terrible. The owner is an incompetent drunk who's never there. You got referred to the job from a friend of a friend. You did an interview with the head chef/manager, John. He hired you because you were hot.
"The fuckin ass on that one, huh?"
Just like any man that works in a restaurant, they're all horny fucks who love to tease you. You'd run back to the kitchen and ask to tweak an order. Price would wink and say:
"Next time it's gonna cost ya."
When it gets slow (which was all the time), you'd sit in the back and chat about how they met and what they did with their lives. They all get paid under the table for various reasons. Johnny takes smoke breaks with you, sometimes Price joins. Gaz pours shots for everyone after "busy" nights (busy meaning there was an hour where there were two tables to serve instead of one). Ghost... well he's strictly work. Sometimes he engages in banter with the guys, but he only acknowledges you when needed.
Your first month flies by, you basically get paid to sit around and talk with the most charming men on the planet, and Simon.
"He'll warm up eventually. Just gotta loosen 'em up, just like any tight ass."
Soap smirked as he leaned against a counter while everyone was wrapping up for the night.
"Don't you have dishes to put away?"
Ghost snapped while wiping down his station. At least he was nice to look at.
You and Gaz would roll up the forks and knives talking about bullshit, knees touching. Soap and you would light each others smokes by touching one lit end to the unlit one, all while still holding the cigarettes in your mouths (he called it a cigarette kiss). Price would constantly make food for you:
"Gotta plump you up 'fore it starts getting cold, yeah?"
He'd look you up and down while sliding you a basket of fries. And Simon? Cold as ever. Even when he started driving you to and from work because your car broke down. He drove like a madman, but it was totally silent. You made the mistake of reaching for the radio once, he gave a admonitory grunt and you snatched your hand away.
As time went on, you got comfortable with everyone and they got comfortable with you. It started with suggestive jokes.
"Simon's just straightforward, doesn't beat around the bush."
Price said one day while prepping vegetables with Ghost.
"What are you talking about? He beats around the bush all the time Price, you know that."
Soap walked by with a shit eating grin while he was carrying a bucket of dishes to the back. Uproar from the guys. Ghost storms off following Johnny, knife in hand. You want to stop him, but Gaz places a hand on your shoulder.
"Best not to do that, just let 'em settle that amongst themselves."
Johnny comes back disheveled, wearing a different shirt. Simon is stone faced as usual as he goes back to prep. It only got worse after that.
You'd watch as the boys messed with each other more; pats on the back, that turns to squeezes on the shoulders, that turned to slaps on the ass.
"They're just handsy," you think to yourself.
Eye contact that lingers for a second too long.
"They're just close friends," you think to yourself.
Compliments that boarder on harassment.
"They're just joking around," you think to yourself.
Then you entered the walk-in freezer, only to make direct eye contact with Johnny as he has Kyle's dick down his throat.
"Oh, uh-huh..." you think to yourself.
You didn't look at their faces for a week, they acted as if nothing happened. Then, the flirting only got worse.
"Behind!"
Price would yell while grinding up against Simon's ass when passing behind him.
"Yes, Chef."
He'd respond while he continued cooking, unfazed. They seemingly shared clothes: the younger guys preferred to don John and Simon's apparel all the time. You stopped going into the walk-in for a while, you figured you'd give Gaz and Soap some privacy (although they didn't seem to mind an audience). Christ, was everyone fucking everyone here?
You were taking a smoke break with Price when he leaned back on the railing and adjusted himself, it wasn't really adjusting himself as it was more him gripping his thick dick and looking directly into your eyes. You nearly choked as he smiled.
Ghost threw you a hoodie when he dropped you off one night. It started raining before you got home and you were complaining about just getting your hair done. You tried to give it back but he refused to take it.
"Keep it. I don't care about that one anyways."
He shrugged. You'd wear the oversized hoodie to bed, the smell was comforting. Smoky, dusty, boozy, like Javanese vetiver. It smelled like a grown man. Delicious. Accidentally wore it to work one day when you were in a rush getting ready. That started a trend for the rest of them to get you to wear their clothes. It less of a trend and more of a competition honestly. They'd "accidentally" spill drinks or food on you.
"No worries, I've got an extra shirt in my car!"
They'd have a wide, cheeky smile plastered on their faces while giving you their shirt. Of course, they wouldn't take them back either; so you had a growing collection of huge shirts that you'd wear around your apartment. Eventually, you had to go back to the walk-in. Thankfully, there were no exhibitionists present. You were reaching to grab some ketchup when the door opened. You and Johnny stared at each other for a long moment.
"Need help getting that, bonnie?"
Before you could respond he was reaching over you, pressing his chest on your back. He handed you the bottle while his dick grew hard on your ass. He was breathing hard in your ear, waiting for your reaction. You pushed back on him and that's all he needed, he gripped your hips and grinded into you. Even through your jeans you could feel his dick twitch when you moaned. It was a hot minute of panting while he pulled you back onto him desperately, like he was trying to fuck you right through the denim. The door handle clicked. You both froze, staring at the entryway.
"Johnny?"
Gaz's head popped in. Your face got hot while he stared back and forth at the two of you. One thing led to another, and your pants are around your ankles while Johnny is face first in your wet folds. Kyle is standing behind you, fucking your thighs and leaving sloppy kisses on your neck.
"Pretty doll, how long have ye bin waiting fur this, huh?"
Soap looked up at you with so much adoration, like he was servicing a goddess.
"Gonna cum Johnn-"
Gaz whimpered and bit your shoulder to muffle his groans as he came right between your thighs and cunt. Soap cleaned up the mess greedily, savouring the taste of both your juices. He didn't stop eating you out until you finished. Gaz held you up while your knees buckled when you came undone. Gentlemen they are, pulled up your pants for you and wiped the smeared lipgloss from your face. You stumbled out of the freezer, walking past the kitchen. Price's eyes crinkled as he saw you head out onto the floor.
~
"You shouldn't do that in there. It's unsanitary. And a health code violation."
Simon looked straight ahead as he weaved between cars. You opened your mouth, but no words came to mind, so you just nodded. Your leg bounced nervously. He grabbed your thigh, stopping the movement. His hand stayed there until you were in front of your place. You stared at him, his brown eyes boring into you.
"G'night."
He pulled his hand away, placing both of them on the steering wheel. You walked into your apartment, dizzy with confusion. "What the fuck is going on?"
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heart-of-the-morningstar · 10 months ago
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✨Lucifer Morningstar NSFW Headcanons✨
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Sub/Switch and you know I'm right! He loves when you call the shots
In a more dominant role, he's extremely gentle, makes sure you're okay throughout
Kissing is a must with him, he loves the feeling of your lips! Your make out sessions could go on for a while
He explores your body with his hands as much as he can, touching every single inch of you. He loves your thighs and stomach the most, but he can never resist groping your tits and burying his face in them
It's extremely important to both of you that you're having fun and laughing, you love being silly together when doing the deed <3
Loves pet names!! For you, it's "(my) love", "sweetheart", "duckling", and "angel". For him, he likes to be called "baby", "good boy", and "Luci"
Loves marking you as his, be it hickies or gentle scratches, he loves knowing you're his (bites down on your neck and shoulder A LOT)
EXTREMELY SENSITIVE, this man gets hard from the slightest of touches! He gets embarrassed but you love it!
Around a 7-7.5 inch cock when hard, normal girth but veiny!
WILL EAT YOU OUT FOR HOURS!! I'm talking non-stop cunnilingus, he loves the taste of you and he loves you bringing you to multiple orgasms! Your moans turn him on to an unhealthy degree
Definitely more of a giver but will never turn down a blowjob from you, he gets SUPER red in the face when you look up at him while you suck him off
He's not extremely kinky but is willing to try most things at least once if you bring it up!
When subbing, he loves to watch you bounce on his cock, using him as you please.
Even with his sensitivity, he loves being edged, not being allowed to cum until you say so. He thrives on being brought to the edge only for you to stop moving and have him beg for you to let him cum (his whimpers are EVERYTHING)
He's very vocal! No just with his moans and whimpers, but he loves talking to you in the heat of the moment, king of whispering sweet nothings; "you feel so good, my angel", "my little duckling"
Pegging!!! He's scared to admit at first, but when he opens up about it, you're more than happy to oblige
Always has you cum first, making you feel good is the most important thing to him
When he thrusts into you, it always starts at a slow and gentle pace, only picking up speed when he's close to an orgasm
You always know when he's about to cum, he scrunches his face real tight and his breathing becomes very labored, your name is the only thing he can say
CREAMPIES BABY, all day every day, absolutely loves cumming inside you! He thinks it's super hot when you swallow his cum too
He has a very high sex drive when it comes to you, you could have multiple rounds a day and he's still want more of you!
Aftercare is everything! Cuddles are his favorite, he could be the big spoon or little spoon, depending on how he feels
He loves wrapping his arms around you and holding you close, peppering kisses on the back of your neck and shoulder, NEEDS to hold your hand and interlock your fingers
But he also loves being held, especially after subbing, he needs a lot of reassurance, he adores when you tell him how much you love him and care for him
Falling asleep in each other's arms is his own version of heaven <3
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wyvernest · 1 year ago
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mating szn
part 1 (part2)
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pairing: miguel o'hara x f!gf!reader
warnings: smut, fluff, scent marking, primal play, rutting miguel, possessiveness, reader is ovulating
summary: miguel comes home feeling extremely needy
You're preparing dinner when you hear the opaque glass doors of your shared mansion open for your lover to come in. It's almost midnight, and it doesn't take you longer than a few seconds to realize how tired he has to be.
Miguel walks into the open kitchen, frowning. 
"Baby! I missed you!" You jolt to him, pans clattering dangerously as you throw them aside, careful enough not to ruin your work but swiftly enough to get to him as fast as possible.
You curl your arms around his neck, standing on your tiptoes, pressing your chest flush against his hard pecs. His hands grab at your hips, absentmindedly and by habit.
"What's wrong?". You place a gentle, loving hand on his cheek, trying to meet his gaze. But he's not looking at you. His eyes are darting all over your face and body, brows still creased. 
He could feel it, your scent. A collection of the whole day, everything you've done. The food, the places you've been. He feels like it's been so long since this morning, when he woke up beside you, kissing along your neck. 
He feels a surge of blood rush from his heart and through his lucidity, a shot of adrenaline inexplicably taking over him.
You don't smell of him anymore. Anger bubbles in his chest as he thinks of all the people you must've talked to around HQ, who didn't smell his strong musk on you, who had no idea you belonged to him.
He's never felt like this before. He brushes the unfamiliar feeling aside for a moment, grounded by the silent plea in your eyes.
"I'm good. Just a bit tired." He brushes wild strands of baby hairs out of your face, finally matching the loving look you've greeted him with from the start.
He leaves you to finish the meal and steps into the shower, hoping that an ice cold stream would cool him down. Only it doesn't do anything but worsen the situation.
The second he feels the water spray hit his body, he flinches, unlike the usual relief he gets. His skin is abnormally feverish, the ghost of your body in his arms taunting him further into madness. He soon finds himself desperate to get out, to be reunited with you and the warmth only you could ever provide for him.
Images of your supple body breaking in his embrace flood his already lust crazed mind against his better judgment, and he feels his cock fatten slightly at the memory.
When he takes it in his hand, he nearly starts bucking his hips into his hold, sensitive and insanely needy. He imagines you in the bathtub with him, arching your back over the edge, spreading your legs for him to pound his cock into you under the hot stream, your moans echoing and ringing into the stone tiles.
He can't take it anymore. His body aches for your touch and attention.
Exiting the shower, he pulls a pair of loose boxers up his thighs, the only thing he can tolerate with the fever that has taken hold of him so suddenly.
And then, he focuses on the image of you, standing where he left you, gently stirring in a bowl. You're wearing one of his t-shirts, draped down to the middle of your thighs and over your elbows, an oversized dress. 
He approaches you, wrapping his arms around your front and waist, dropping a fraction of his weight on your back just to keep you from moving or fighting against it. You throw your head back, closing your eyes.
His head drops to your neck, kissing here and there, exhales smoldering hot on your throat, stopping momentarily to deeply inhale your scent. Among all others, there is a distinctive smell of you, of your arousal and need for him that drives him mad.
"Wait- Miguel, let me finish this-" You protest, your creamy tone betraying your true intentions. 
He groans, kissing your naked shoulder, his hands squeezing your form in front of him. 
All tasks are ultimately abandoned as he pushes you against the counter, his defined abs hitting your back, the marble surface cold against your thighs. He presses his fat, hard cock up against your plush ass, his hands fondling your breasts through his shirt, groaning low and quiet in your ear. 
With his biceps curled and constricted around your navel, your body goes limp in his hold, trembling ever so slightly as his warm, broad palms squeeze the soft flesh of your tits. He pushes them together, massaging gently, almost experimentally. He flattens them with the heels of his palms softly, only to them constrict his fingers around them so perfectly, fondling and groping away.
"Mm- Miguel, oh-" You breathe out, finding balance on your hands, arching your back into him. You feel your core pulsate with need, swelling up under his movements. You're almost completely wrapped up in his massive body, with nowhere to go. 
And just then, you accidentally knock a knife off the counter, startled when it hits the marble floor with a loud clank. He jumps, backing up from your body. Your face is flushed, eyes half lidded, breath heavy, nipples perked under the thin cotton. Landing back to your senses, you move to bend down and pick it up.
His eyes automatically snap to your round ass and the dark wet spot on your panties that invites him so blatantly to shove his cock in between your pussy lips. 
He can't help it. He can't control himself anymore.
Balance leaves your position as you feel his rough, eager hands grip your hips, harshly pulling you back into him. The plumpness of your ass hits the girthy shaft of his cock, but before you can look for the lost balance with your hands in front of you, he thrusts his erection up against your clothed cunt, making you whine in need.
"Ay, mi amor-" His voice is rugged and satisfied, laced with a deep groan. A broad palm hits the side of your behind, making the tender flesh ripple against his hard-on. "Te necesito muchísimo ahora." (I need you so badly right now.)
You yelp, perplexed, instinctively grabbing his wrists for balance. He pulls you up with your back against his chest, splaying a cursory hand across your abdomen, sending shivers thundering down your spine and butterflies fluttering in your stomach.
"Miguel!" You playfully fight against his possessive hold, "Is this your way of helping me prepare dinner?!" You free yourself, giggling and letting a wide smile take over your features. Stepping back and extending your arms in front of you in an attempt to shield yourself from him, you chuckle wholeheartedly.
Seeing you resist, he lets out a defeated exhale.
"Fine. I'll be good, lo prometo." (I promise). He motions for you to come closer and trust that he'll behave. Letting your guard down, you approach the counter, eyes fixated on his playfully.
He feels your body heat nearing him, so comfortable and tempting. The smell of you, and everything that drives him crazy about your presence alone. His breaths deepen and quicken abruptly, his cock straining in his boxers, twitching freely against the material, begging to be enveloped in your wet warmth.
He looks down at you like a panther about to pounce, waiting for the perfect moment to do so. Your smile curls wider, eyes shining with lust and a teasing playfulness. His body dwarfs yours, his shadow alone making you feel puny. His shoulders are tense, the same way they are when he's on top of you, riding you into next Tuesday.
He shifts to place a clawed hand on the counter, the sharp edged digits tapping against the surface catching your attention momentarily in the corner of your eye. He exploits the split second it takes you to look down to his arm, snapping and squatting to grab your thighs, throwing you over his shoulder.
"NO! You promised! Miguel! The food!" You try to reason, throwing any and each accusation you can think of, knowing that you definitely don't want him to drop it and leave you alone, truly. And he knows it. 
And that's when he feels it. With your ass on his bulky shoulder, he can smell it. Your arousal, dripping hot. His fat cock finally hardens completely, its monstrously girthy shaft poking through the shorts. 
You're ovulating.
Groaning ruggedly, he delivers a rough spank to your plump ass before pushing two fingers over the wet mound of your clothed pussy, running them over your slit, teasingly, collecting more of your scent.
He swears the only thing stopping him from fucking you raw right on the kitchen floor is your comfort.
"Okay! You win! Put me down, I'll let you fuck me."
Without a second thought, he places you back on the floor, hands on your hips, talons grazing your tender skin deliciously.
His eyes have reddened, pupils blown wide, exhales hot and labored. You don't want anything more than to wrap your arms around his neck, to press yourself into him, to feel his hard abdomen on your stomach, his pecs on your soft tits, his mouth on your neck.
But you want to see more of how needy he is.
You jolt to the stairs with no warning, climbing the winding wooden steps like a cat. You hear him behind you, his weight put onto each movement as he chases close behind, the staircase creaking under him.
Looking behind before reaching the hallway of the first floor of your mansion, you feel your panties dampen at the sight of the man and the sheer size of him, massive shoulders slightly hunched forward in focus and adrenaline, his height successfully making you stagger on your way to the bedroom.
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divider by @cafekitsune
HOPE YALL LIKE IT IMMA CONTINUE ‼️‼️
a/n: primal play is thoroughly discussed beforehand. insisting that your partner has sex with you even after resistance without having discussed the aforementioned resistance is abusive.
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leilakisakabiri · 2 months ago
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Miami Hot Lap (CL)
Summary: You're forced to do a Miami Hot Lap with your boyfriend.
Warning(s): Just fluff.
A/N: Ahh I love this concept!! Requests are open for Charles and Lando.
Word Count: 800+
Masterlist
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Being invited to an F1 race through a brand seemed like a fun idea at first. You would get to see your boyfriend for the first time in weeks, watch the race in your hometown, and somehow still be able to call it work. It was a win-win situation.
That was until they approached you with a video idea.
"So since you're working with one of our sponsored brands for the weekend, a Miami native, and dating a driver, we thought it was only fair to ask you to do the Miami hot lap video." The F1 content manager explained.
"Miami hot lap?" You questioned, unfamiliar with what they wanted you to do.
"Yeah y'know just go for a few laps on the track with a driver. For you, it would be Charles of course." She assured.
You shook your head rapidly, shrinking back, "No thank you. I don't drive with Charles."
"But he's your boyfriend? Surely you've driven with him before?"
You sighed, "Yeah in a city, where he's forced to follow the speed limit, I would never be able to handle going that fast. He's too scary without restrictions."
She furrowed her eyebrows, opening her mouth to respond before she was cut off.
"Spreading lies about me again?"
You felt your lips upturn in a smile as he came up behind you, fingers entwining with yours as he kissed your cheek.
You turned to face him, attempting to be firm, "I love you, but I'm not driving with you." You repeated.
One hour later you found yourself being strapped into the passenger seat of his car, cursing yourself for giving in after he convinced you it wouldn't be that bad.
The camera sat on the dashboard, recording the both of you.
"Go slow," You warned, as he got the green light to pull away.
"We'll get no views then." He argued.
You started at him in disbelief, "Would you rather have more views on a video or have a girlfriend in one piece?"
It was quiet for a beat too long and you put your hand up, "You know what don't answer that. I don't want to know."
"So how do you like driving with me so far?" He asked once you made it past the first lap.
You nodded, "Not bad, right now I feel like we're going to get food."
He smirked, "Well in that case go on and get comfortable."
You eyed him skeptically but you decided to trust him, "Okaaay," you dragged out the word as you slouched a bit more in the seat, letting your body relax against the seat, going as far as to admire the view outside the window.
The peace only lasted for a second before Charles was slamming on the pedal, sending the car lurching forward at record speeds.
While he got a shot of adrenaline, you felt your stomach somersault as your body jolted backward.
“Charles. Charles!!” Your voice filled with panic, fingers grabbing onto the side of the car for dear life, eyes wide as you refused to take your eyes off the rapidly passing road in front of you.
He laughed at your reaction, only stopping once he realized how serious you were. He dropped a hand down to squeeze yours, reassuring you, “Relax I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The supposedly sweet action had the opposite effect, “Keep both your hands on the wheel!” You shrieked, sending him into another fit of laughter.
You put a hand to your forehead in shock and disbelief, "We're going to die."
You felt hysterical, and his shit-eating grin only irked you further.
"We're not going to die. I promise." He swore, trying to calm you down.
You shoved his shoulder, "Your promises mean nothing to me anymore Charles. We're going to die and it's all your fault." you deadpanned.
“Y/n amor I’m barely pushing 90 mph.” He revealed.
Your body froze, before finally losing some tension, “Oh."
You checked the meter seeing that he was telling the truth, "It feels a lot faster,” you argued, “Especially with the sharp turns," you elaborated.
He agreed with you but not before side-eyeing you, "Right."
"So should we go faster?" He proposed.
"Charles," You warned.
"Why so formal?"
You glanced at each other for a second and already knew what would happen from the unfiltered excitement in his eyes, "Hold on amour."
You watched in horror as the meter rapidly rose hitting up to 130mph, you mouthed a "help me" to the camera.
“I think I’m gonna throw up everywhere.” You groaned once the car had finally come to a halt.
Charles patted your head affectionately as you laid your head against your knees, “You’ll be ok.”
“No. I’m going to projectile vomit on this dashboard,” you warned, “I’m never driving with you again.”
He furrowed his eyebrows at your comment but didn't say anything, instead facing the camera.
"Well thanks for joining us today, if you want more videos like this-"
You lifted your head off your knees when you noticed he hadn't finished his sentence, finding him staring at you expectedly.
"Like and subscribe?" you questioned, voice hoarse.
"Exactly. See you guys later!" He waved bye to the camera and moved your head to lay on his lap so you could rest.
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joeloverture · 11 months ago
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hook 'em horny | j.m. x f!reader
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masterlist : coach!joel masterlist pairing: college football coach!joel miller x reader summary: [no outbreak] seeking petty revenge on your cheating quarterback ex-boyfriend leads you somewhere you shouldn't be — and then it lands you over the knee of his coach. warnings: (18+ mdni, don't make me say it again.) cheating done by a referenced oc, briefest mention of drugs, porn barely garnished with plot, age gap (22/52), smut, unprotected piv sex, creampie, vaginal fingering, potentially dubcon by way of power imbalance but consent is enthusiastic, daddy kink, sir kink, 'punishment' spanking, degradation, praise, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, joel spits on her ass but otherwise no butt stuff, mild choking, body writing, so many pet names of so many varieties, aftercare, surprisingly fluffy [no use of y/n] word count: 6.4k a/n: this is a crazy idea to have considering joel can hardly handle ellie. i don't think he'd be able to handle ~118 college-aged boys. however, the idea of football coach! joel is hot to me (i mean, seriously, look at those sluts on the sidelines) so i made it happen. on a serious note, i am so sorry to the unnamed university this is based on. i toured you. i'm legacy. but... joel miller. let's make it clear this is for entertainment purposes only. this is a fictional work about fictional people that does not reflect the school itself, which is a fine institution whose head coaches historically do not fuck students in the locker rooms. shoutout to my dad who, unknowing what this information would be used for, explained to me how he snuck into this stadium 3x. don't do that, either.
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You can’t even remember the last time you made a good decision.
Your track record definitely isn’t the cleanest: you chose to go to school in Texas, and then chose to stay there for four years. Choosing to go to that frat party in late junior year wasn’t your brightest moment, either, evidenced by the resulting hangover from hell and, predictably, frat flu. All things considered, those choices pale in comparison to hooking up with their all-star quarterback, Lucas Scott.
Dirty-blonde, blue-eyed, muscled Lucas Scott. He’s the sort of guy who looks like an eight when you’re looking at him after a few shots of tequila and a four when you’re sober. The sort of guy who, after over a year of dating, makes you split the bill halfway after ordering the more expensive entree. Crowned as the most efficient, precise, and instinctive quarterback the Longhorns have ever had. Apparently that instinct hadn’t been enough to drive him away from dipping his wick in every sorority girl’s candle wax. 
No matter how much post-orgasm Lucas panted into his ear that he loved you, you weren’t stupid enough to trick yourself into believing it. Staying with him was the easier choice, not yet wanting to reduce yourself to locker room talk. Walking in on him sloppily fucking some redhead nursing major was the breaking point. When it became less about you and more about your dignity.
So, yeah, you’ve never been one for making good decisions, and you certainly aren’t about to start now.
You thought breaking into the stadium would be some sort of monumental task. Trespassing here was normally reserved for campus rooftops and after-hours exploration, but once you’d gotten this batshit crazy idea in your head, you knew it wasn’t going to shake until you at least proved it couldn’t be done.
The open garage at the back of the building doesn’t help to deter you. It’s like there’s a welcome-mat outside saying, ‘Come on in and get what you deserve!’.
Who would you be to decline such a sincere invitation?
The garage is empty apart from some cushy golf carts, and the steel door behind them couldn’t be more tempting. If it’s locked, you tell yourself, you’ll go back to the dorm and forget about your incident of near-trespassing. 
You take small steps to the door, testing the handle. It springs right open, and all thoughts of leaving dissipate from your mind.
Who leaves the garage open and forgets to lock the door? Probably people with just as little between their ears (and legs) as Lucas. You scoff in half-disbelief, half-luck as you close the door behind you.
The energy feels stagnant this late at night, no announcer on the loudspeaker or swarms of burnt orange hats and T-shirts standing shoulder-to-shoulder. Industrial lights flicker above, their hums loud enough to make you wonder if you have tinnitus. Concrete lines the hallways, interrupted by a few silver-painted pipes arranged in a labyrinth up against the walls. A few security cameras are pointed at you. Before going any further, you pause to raise the hood of your Longhorns sweatshirt.
Even if you should be, you aren’t in much of a rush; you amble about, really taking in the sterile ambiance of the empty stadium. You turn a few corners, going in what feels like the right direction. You figure you’re getting closer when you spot what looks like it could be a security tower. Crouching behind a trash can, you wait it out, trying to peer through the untinted windows to figure out if there’s anyone in there at all. When you’ve determined it’s unmanned and let out a shallow exhale, you go back up to full posture and keep wandering around unsupervised.
You know you’re in the right place when you find your toes hovering over a red line painted on the oil-stained concrete: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY BEYOND THIS POINT. 
Bingo.
Crossing that line without really thinking about it, you stick to your (so far) tried and true method of going wherever feels the most promising until you’re standing in front of the two black doors you were looking for. The door’s handle is an obnoxiously large longhorn, and you quite literally have to hook ‘em to get inside.
You’re starting to understand where the rest of the university’s funding is going when you walk into the locker room. After dating Lucas for a year, you know the football team is full of itself, but the Longhorniness of it all is… excessive. There’s the silhouette of the logo glowing on the goddamn ceiling, and if the jerseys the players are wearing on their digital nameplates isn’t enough of an indicator of who they play for, every backlit locker has a drawer with, you guessed it: a longhorn painted at the center. A brown vinyl couch wraps around the front of the room in direct view of a powered down videoboard that you can only assume replays highlight reels.
You roll your eyes. Again, your track record with decision-making isn’t the best, because you chose a school who puts every penny towards sweaty frat boys with brain damage from the amount of concussions they get.
And then you see it: a sign tacked onto the middle aisle of lockers that reads CORE VALUES. From top to bottom, HONESTY, TREAT WOMEN WITH RESPECT, NO DRUGS, NO STEALING, and NO WEAPONS. You have to physically clamp your jaw shut to restrict your laughter at the second one.
It doesn’t take you long to find what you’re looking for. Lucas Scott, #10.
His sweat-stained jersey hangs limply from the rack, and you eagerly tear it off, tossing it down onto the floor. Eager like a child ready to color outside the lines of a coloring book, you kneel down in front of it, pulling out the one thing you had prepared for tonight. A bold black Sharpie.
You pop the cap with your teeth, spitting it out somewhere on the floor as you start scribbling. Disguising your handwriting isn’t intentional, but you’re writing so carelessly and on such a foreign material that it comes naturally. Your tongue sticks out of the corner of your mouth as you work. In a year and a half, you’d never felt such satisfaction about — and certainly not from  — Lucas.
TWO PUMP CHUMP along the side. FIVE INCHES FULL MAST on the other. CHEATER at the bottom. WHORE across the front.
A throat clears behind you. You drop the Sharpie, a blot of ink forming on the mesh. You startle backwards, scooting until your back hits that stupid longhorn drawer. You’re expecting a janitor, maybe a security guard if you’re extra unlucky. 
That isn’t the worst of your options, apparently, because when you look up, it’s at Joel fucking Miller, head coach of the longhorn’s football team.
Your lower lip starts trembling, and that moment is when you decide maybe you need to start making good decisions. You’ve heard enough about Joel from Lucas to know he’s a total hardass. He could drag you by the ear to the dean and have you kicked out at the tail end of your second to last semester in this hellhole.
He glares down at you with his head cocked, hazel eyes far darker than they ever seem on TV. His scruff stipples his hardened jawline, lips thinned out like the worry lines pressed onto his forehead. If you were interested in digging yourself any deeper, you might stall to think about how good he looks: the faint trail of chest hair vanishing down into the neckline of his longhorns polo shirt, his fitted khakis, broad leather belt slung around his waist, and the slight bulge of tummy above it. You swallow hard and kick yourself for it.
“What exactly,” Coach Miller drawls, voice syrupy and sticky. “do ya think you’re doin’?”
Your mouth moves, but no words come out. He doesn’t seem very amused, his muscled arms crossing over his wide torso.
Joel shakes his head. “Ain’t a good look for you, hun, scrawlin’ that chicken scratch all over my QB’s jersey. Could get a real ugly charge for that.”
Heart crashing into your ribcage, you bite down on your lip. “I can pay the damages,” you blurt out.
He sizes you up all over again, eyes dragging up and down your body. They linger on your chest for a few extra seconds that you’re convinced that you just made up. “Can you, sugar? ‘Cause to me, looks like you’re the type to be chasin’ tips at whatever joint hires you.”
You don’t have the bandwidth to be as offended as you should be, especially because he’s right. You settle for glowering at him instead. A huff of laughter pinches out of him. “You give everyone you vandalize that blue look? Or is that lil’ number jus’ because you found out Lucas really ain’t that loyal?” With ease, Joel bulldozes over whatever thinning resolve you have remaining. 
“What’s that sign over there say? ‘Treat women with respect’?” You say. Joel’s backlit like all of those over budgeted lockers behind him. You squint your eyes. “You know that’s fucking bullshit. So what if I give him a taste of his own medicine when he’s been a minute man for every girl with a pulse on this campus?” You cap your Sharpie and clip it back onto your collar and get to your feet. So much for good decisions. “Fuck right off with that.”
“Hey, hey. Down, hun.” Joel holds his hands out to you, and you notice just how heavily you’ve been breathing, just how close you are to him. “Never said you were wrong. Kid’s a fuck up in all sorts ‘a ways. But I don’t like how you’re mouthin’ off at me, Miss Priss. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you’re in dire need of a spankin’ to set you right.”
Your breath cuts short and your cunt bottoms out without your permission. You don’t need a mirror to know your eyes just went glassy, your lips parted as your mouth goes desert dry. As discreetly as you can manage, you squeeze your thighs together.
Joel doesn’t miss it. You can tell from the moment his brows raise and his eyes sparkle, the corner of his mouth picking up a smidge. “Oh, yeah? That do somethin’ for ya, hun? Nasty little girl.” There’s a dangerous, uneven grit to his voice that has arousal burning like a candle in your stomach, the wax of your arousal syrupy against your thighs already. 
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. Fuck.
“No,” you breathe out stubbornly, but you’ve already given yourself away, even to yourself. The insides of your thighs are molten, twitching with every throb of your clit between your legs. That flush of warmth from your pelvis is spreading, overheating.
Joel tuts. “You really think that? You can whine all you want ‘bout wantin’ respect, but at the end ‘a the day, you just wanna be treated like some whore, huh?” And, yeah, he has you figured out, has you in the palm of his hand. Even though you have no idea what someone like him could do to someone like you, you want him to do it. You want to find out. “I’ll tell ya what, sugar, you walk outta here right now and nobody but me’s gonna know you came pitchin’ a hissy fit in my locker room.”
You frown at that, a small arc of your pouty lips that has Joel’s eyes gleaming.
“Or,” he says. “You can pull those wet fuckin’ panties down – don’t gimme that look, I know they are – and I can give ya a real lesson in respect.” He shrugs, hands going to his waist as he looks you up and down.
He knows he has you the same way you know, but you aren’t just going to give in that easily. You flare your nose and counter, “If there’s nothing keeping me here other than a firm hand, why should I stay?”
He’s looking at you like he wants to take you apart. His fingers jump against his hips for the opportunity to break you down. 
“Sweetness,” Joel shakes his head as if it’s obvious. “if you let me, I could make you feel good. I’m guessin’ you got some vibrator sittin’ in the back of your desk drawer to use when your roommate’s out ‘n about, but you don’t wanna use that tonight, do ya? You want the real thing, hun, and I’d give it to ya real nice once I teach ya to behave.”
There it is again: Coach Joel Miller has you all figured out. Every syllable he says is doomed to send another shiver up your spine, and damn it, fuck playing coy.
You’re too busy tearing off your hoodie to think about how unsexily dressed you are, but the rushed nature of your actions punches a chuckle out of Joel. “Eager thing.” You’re halfway through kicking your shoes and leggings off when he saunters over to the couch, plopping down on the edge and patting his broad, khaki-covered thigh. Your mouth waters when you look back and see just how much the fabric strains against his leg. “Whenever you’re ready, hun.”
You waddle over to him, stripped down to the basics of your sports bra and everyday panties. It’s the furthest thing from erotic, but the way he’s looking at you isn’t. It’s primal and ravenous, enough to have you forgetting all about how you’d even gotten there in the first place. He licks his lips as he trails his eyes all over you, darkening a couple of shades when he looks at your cleavage. “Lucas is a fuckin’ idiot, baby.”
“Knew that already,” you mumble.
He pats his thigh again, bounces his leg. “C’mon, over my knee like the good girl I know you can be. Hurry up and I’ll only give ya five.”
You shuffle forward, relishing in the rubbing of your thighs that comes from it. He’s sitting on the corner of the couch at the perfect angle for you to rest your head on the arm. It doesn’t take any more convincing for you to put yourself over his lap, not that he needed to do much in the first place. You feel so much smaller than him. Your ass is up for him to do whatever he’d like to; it’s a tantalizing feeling you hadn’t gotten out of any intimacy – if you could call it that — with Lucas.
“Mmmmmm,” Joel groans as he runs a hand between your legs. He rubs at your slit through the soaked gusset of your panties. You can’t stop the way your hips buck, or the pitiful shout that jumps off your lips when he pins you down by the small of your back, robbing you of any friction. Between one arousal-riddled breath and the next, Joel tugs your panties off and flings them to the side. You know how it feels, tacky and cold on your core and thighs, so you can only imagine how it must look. Joel gives you a pretty good idea when he reveres, “Goddamn, pretty cunt is throbbin’ for it.”
He pulls apart your folds and you think you hear him lick his lips above you before he lets them go. The schlick noise your dripping pussy makes is nothing less than pornographic. Joel gropes you carefully, kneads the skin of your ass like you have all the time in the world. Under his ministrations, it’s easy to melt into the couch, forgetting why you’re there in the first place until his palm cracks down on your ass cheek.
The stinging impact has a slurred hnnnngh leaving your lips, and a fresh gush of wetness between your legs to accompany it. You keep your head tucked into the sanctuary of your folded arms, eyes squeezed shut so tight you swear you’re seeing stars. Joel’s quick to rub the spanked patch of skin, his palm soothing his ache. “That’s one, baby.” You nod into your arms. “Think you can take four more?” Another nod.
“I need to hear ya, hun. C’mon, head up f’me.” He taps the side of your cheek, and you prop your cheek up on your forearm. “Think you can take four more?” he repeats.
Your voice hitches, courtesy of the beating that echoes in your chest and between your legs. “Y-yes…” 
When the second hit lands, you don’t expect it. You flinch away from his hand when it comes down with a clap that leaves you squirming in his lap. “Yes, what?”
“Yes sir,” you whine out, back arching. Although a punishment, that spank has the same effect as the last: a live wire of arousal strung from your spine to your cunt.
“Takin’ it well,” he praises, squeezing your ass cheeks together. “Sure didn’t expect anyone to come crawlin’ in when I left that garage open, ‘specially not some slut like you with an ass that needs a spankin’ six ways to Sunday.” Just as quick as he can build you up, he can take you down a notch, but you can’t mind when it has you moaning all the same. “Oh, she likes that,” Joel clicks.
He rubs your ass again, and you’re bracing yourself for that next strike, pulled stiff with an arousing, anticipatory sort of fear. Only when you convince yourself it isn’t coming do you let all of that tension flood out of your body — and that’s when Joel smacks his hand across your far-too-trustworthy ass.
You cry out, pouting over your shoulder at Joel, who has a proud smirk drawn all over his face. You don’t even feel your hips rocking down, seeking whatever pleasure you can get until he reprimands, “Ruttin’ against my fuckin’ leg, now, huh? Don’t pretend you don’t like this.”
With a particularly good grind of your hips, you feel his bulge pressing into your thigh. From a mere graze alone, you can tell it’s huge. A whimper tears out of you at the same time he groans above you. “You got nothin’ to prove, ain’t gonna change the fact you’re a slut who needs to get spanked ‘n stuffed to talk ‘er into behavin’ a bit.”
“Can’t even follow your own rules,” you huff, apparently still interested in shooting yourself in the foot even when Coach Miller has you ass-up over his knee. 
“Don’t see how you care…” Joel slides a hand down between your legs. He rubs at your clit, an intense pressure that has you wanting more and less all at the same time, before dragging a thick finger across your opening. Arousal squelches between your legs and your hips jump – a dead giveaway to just how turned on you are, whether you like it or not. “when it gets you this turned on,” he finishes. Then that same finger is prodding at your mouth, glistening with your wetness. You whimper before tasting yourself, sucking obediently on his finger until he pulls away with a pop.
You sulk, “Don’t act like I can’t feel you ripping a hole in your jeans, Miller–”
The fourth spank is the hardest by far. The skin of your ass feels bitten by Joel’s ‘firm hand’. It’s the kind of hit that makes your legs kick in his lap and your fingers clutch in the couch’s arm for purchase. You wail, “Daddy!” Pain disappears from your mind when you realize what exactly you just said, quickly replaced by the churning coolant of embarrassment. If you were paying attention to anything else other than the shame suddenly inhabiting your chest, you might’ve been able to feel the twitch of his cock in his pants.
“Daddy, huh?” Joel hums, rubbing your hurt ass with one hand while the other strokes your shoulder. You bury your face back in your arms as an apology takes shape in the back of your throat. “Lucas your daddy, too?”
“No!” You squeak, adjusting in his lap. The hood of your clit catches on the rough material of Joel’s pants. Unable to stop yourself, you hump his knee again, shallow rolls of your hips. You can still feel his hardness against you. Needily, you tip your head up, panting as foggy pleasure hangs over your head. 
“Stop makin’ a mess of daddy’s dress pants, baby, unless you wanna be on your knees, lickin’ it up.” You keen, and he chuckles knowingly. “Shoulda known, little whore like you gets off on that.” 
Joel gives you a longer reprieve between the fourth and fifth spank. Instead, he strokes your ass and asks, “One more gonna be enough to set you straight, sweetheart?”
“Y..yes daddy,” you whimper. He hums in approval.
You shift back and forth, waiting for it to come — and when it does, it’s softer. It’s by no means a love pat, but it pales in comparison to his previous work. You still sniffle, squeezing your thighs together as he coos, “I know, I know. Poor baby, actin’ all high ‘n mighty. Can’t be on her high horse when she’s over Daddy’s knee.” Gentle, he pats your ass and guides you on all fours at the edge of the couch. He hums in approval. “See? Not throwin’ a hissy fit anymore. She’s all nice ‘n obedient when you get ‘er to act right.”
Joel spreads your pussy with his thumbs, and you hear the vulgar noise of him collecting his saliva before you feel his spit landing on your clenching hole. You’ve never felt so empty, not when your bottom drawer vibrator is buzzing against your core, definitely not when Lucas fucks you in the same old missionary. Whimpering for him, you arch your back to try to rub against his crotch.
“Quit your whinin’,” he snips, his thumb finding your clit in one swipe. Joel’s touch is firm, but not too firm, just enough to make your hips push down with a need only he’s ever made you feel. 
Without warning, his middle finger slides inside of you, thick and calloused and so, so right. “Fuckin’... tight.” Another slides in as he starts scissoring you open, apparently satisfied enough when he crooks his fingers deep in your cunt. Instantly, he catches that spongy spot that you can never reach on your own. You nearly crumple with the sensation, limbs going weak and buckling. “That the spot?” he asks, but he already knows.
“Mhm,” you moan, chin instinctively tucking against your chest as if you can get away from the pleasure he’s giving you, as if you’d ever want to.
Then — he stops.
His fingers sit heavy inside of you, so close to where you need them to go. “What the fuck, Joel?” 
"Baby, s’that how you get what you want?” He rubs your thigh with his free hand and gives it a quick swat. “Help daddy out, tight girl. I'm not just gonna let you get away with bein’ a spoiled brat. Work yourself on my fingers."
You’re putty in the palm of his hand – malleable, docile for him to treat or mistreat you however gets him hard. You whine, punching your hips back nonetheless. Grinding down, down, down, your cunt unresisting when he gives you another finger. It’s crude, the way you moan for him.
Even though he’s hardly doing anything, just the hand you’re getting yourself off on, that all-consuming strain in your body only gets stronger. “Daddy – close, please…”
 “Attagirl, atta-fuckin’-girl, give it to me.” He rewards you with a press of his fingers against that golden spot inside of you. Your orgasm splinters through you, an ecstasy-charged mist fanning over your body. Your release runs down Joel’s hand and your thighs with every clench of your cunt, like you’ve been skinned and set ablaze by your own desire. You fall forward on the couch, no longer able to hold yourself up, arms a tangled mess as you gasp into the cushion. “You come so pretty, baby. Messy pussy, too. Soaked me up to my goddamn elbow.”
You’re still reeling from the best orgasm you’ve had in months, maybe ever, when you hear obscene slurping noises from behind you. You cast a look at him, your arousal returning with a vigor at the sight of Joel sucking his fingers clean. He groans at the taste, and you swear you see his cock jump in his khakis. Stomach warped with desire, you’re about to plummet off of the very dangerous edge of doing just about anything for him right now.
“Please fuck me, daddy,” you plead, and in any other position, with any other person, it might be mortifying, something worth clutching your pearls over. But this is Coach Joel Miller, the last person you ever expected to be fucking, giving you the best fuck you never expected.
“There’s those manners,” Joel praises, leaning over you to press a brief kiss to your shoulder blade. You can smell your release on his lips, a sweet smell that’s so distinctly you. He eases off of you, presumably to take off his pants. There’s the shuffling of fabric, and when he returns to your side, you’re disappointed to find he hasn’t even unbuckled his belt.
You pout at him again, still desperate to get your way. Eye-level with his bulge, you’re salivating over it. You had made a mess of his dress pants, a wet spot formed just above his knee, taunting you. You lick your lips. 
“Think it’s only fair,” he says, looming over you. He’s holding the Sharpie you’d brought along with you. Your brows furrow as you look up at him through your lashes. “If I give ya the same treatment you gave his jersey.” His gaze is cocky as he pops the cap with his thumb, giving the marker a twirl.
Oh.
It shouldn’t turn you on as much as it does. Nothing about this should turn you on as much as it does, yet here you are, in a puddle of your own sweat and cum, itching for the next thing he gives you. And if it’s marking up your body before he fucks your brains out, so be it.
He nudges his head, gesturing for you to get down on your stomach. You lift your knees up and flatten yourself out on the cushions. The vinyl sticks and pulls from your skin as you get where he wants you. A soft, surprised noise leaves you when he straddles your thighs, his clothed cock nudging at your seam.
“Holy fuck,” you breathe out, because it’s the only phrase you can think of that even holds a candle to what all of this has become. 
A laugh fans out from under his breath as he starts at your freshly spanked, raw ass. The Sharpie is cold and foreign, tugging at your skin as he inks you up. “Gotta make sure you match before I dick you down, don’t I? What is it you wrote on his jersey? ‘Whore’? Between the two ‘a ya, I woulda put my money on you for that one.”
If that wasn’t enough indication, you figure out what he’s doing by the time he gets to the right cheek, what feels like an ‘R’ taking shape across your ass. He finishes the ‘E’ and sets down the Sharpie for a moment, his meaty palms spreading your ass. It still thrums with the afterglow of his spanking. You don’t think you can throb any more than you already are, but then he spits on you for the second time that night, this time landing it on your puckered asshole. A gasp flutters from your lips as you grind down into the couch, his spit dripping down your folds.
“See? Real whorish, fuckin’ my couch.” He taps your ass for good measure. “Asshole makes a perfect fuckin’ ‘O’, baby. Looks a whole lot better than that chicken scratch shit you put on his jersey.” You think maybe, just maybe, he’ll dismount you and pull his cock out, but instead he keeps writing, scribbling on your back and upper thighs. Every pull of your skin under the bleeding ink has you aching for him.
When he’s content with his work, he lifts off of you, hands fumbling to undo his belt. It snaps apart, dangling open around his waist as his hands open up his khakis. “You let Lucas fuck that sweet lil’ cunt raw?” he asks.
“No, I don’t,” you admit, unable to tear your eyes away from his cock as he pulls it out, and fuck you. Your eyes don’t even feel big enough to take all of him in, and you have no idea how you’re going to fit him between your legs. You almost go cross-eyed at the sight of it, his head leaking precum.
“Thought so. You gonna let me fuck it raw?”
“Yes, daddy,” you breathe out, drool pooling in your mouth at the thought of having him inside of you, having him inside of you bare. Yet another thing you never gave to Lucas in a year of disappointing sex, but are eagerly giving up to Joel. 
“Gotta be a real nasty slut,” Joel says, returning to his place atop your thighs, his thick ones framing yours. Your breath hitches when you feel the weight of his cock gliding through your ass cheeks and down to your cunt. “to let your ex-boyfriend’s coach bareback ya in the locker room.” A heady gasp tears from you when the head of his cock bumps your clit. He teases you — his cock, slippery with a combination of your arousal, skating from your clit to your spasming opening, not quite nudging in.
“Daddy, please – I need it… need you to fuck me, fuck me–”
He doesn’t make you wait any longer.
When he pushes in, it knocks the air out of your lungs. The only proof that you’re still breathing is when you let out a pitchy, desperate moan. Joel grunts, teeth gritted as he flattens himself down against your spine so he can roll his hips into yours. The pain of his size becomes an afterthought just as quickly as the pain of your spanking, dwarfed by the pleasure he gives you just as easily. 
“Fuuuuck,” Joel groans, nuzzling into the crook of your neck and shoulder. Inch at a time, he works you open, grinding his hips into your opening. “Could you be any goddamn tighter?” He bites at your neck from behind with every rock of his hips into yours until he bottoms out.
“Big,” is all you manage to squeak out as he hauls you back on his cock, already prodding your g-spot with his head. Your eyes roll back as you clench around him. 
His fingers go up to run circles around your shoulder, soothing you, grounding you when his cock has you anything but. “Mmm, I know, I know. You can take it. All whores can.” With that, Joel starts fucking you, really fucking you, a punishing, relentless pace where he pulls out entirely before filling you to the brim. Each snap of his hips into yours fills the locker room with shameless sounds, the mere background to your depraved moans.
“Never had your pussy stretched by a man double your age before, huh?”
“N–no! Never… never had my pussy stretched mu…much at all–”
Joel slams into you, laughs at the strained noise that you make. “Yeah? Those dumbfucks on my team not doin’ it for ya, baby?” You don’t answer, don’t think he’s expecting one until his hand wraps around your front, forearm pressed firm against your tits. His thick hand wraps lightly around your neck, jostling you. It’s not hard enough to blur your vision, but just hard enough to remind you of the power he has over you. The power you allow him to have. It’s invigorating. Everything about him is. 
Moans spurt out of you as you fumble to answer, “No da– daddy! You — ah! — do it for m–me!” 
“And what do you say for that? For goin’ outta my way to show you what a real fuck is?”
“Thank you, Daddy!” you cry out. You’re spilling down his thighs, the wet suction of your pussy around his cock making noises more vulgar than you’ve ever heard in porn.
His hand squeezes again at your neck, and you feel floaty, a bubble just waiting to pop. Pleasure dances in every one of your veins, every nerve ending burning like a match that he keeps striking ablaze.
“There you go, desperate slut just needs a freshly spanked ass, a good dickin’ down, and a hand ‘round her throat to behave.” Joel’s pace stays just as harsh, crushing your g-spot with his cock. “Should keep you back here for when we lose, tie you to the goddamn desk. Let my staff take turns with you, see how much crybaby you have left in ya when a dozen men’s loads are drippin’ outta your reamed fuckin’ cunt. Bet you like it when men use you.” The whine that almost gags you on its way out is enough to confirm it.
If he keeps talking to you and the wind blows the right way on your clit, you know you’ll be coming. You’re wringing out his cock with every flutter of your pulsing pussy. The beginning embers of your orgasm turn into a wildfire when he wedges his free hand down between your legs, rubbing messy circles into your sloppy clit. “Fuck, please, please, please,” you sob out, too riddled with pleasure to care about how pathetic you sound or look as you hump his hand while he pounds you.
“Can feel you squeezin’ me, baby.” Joel rasps, nipping at your ear. The hand around your throat falls fully to your chest, pressing you solid against him so he can fuck deeper, deeper, deeper. It’s enough to make you scream, hands clawing and scratching down his muscular grip on you. “C’mon, hun, give it to me, come on my cock, fuck.”
With another thrust, he has you pushed right down onto his fingers, rubbing and flicking you every which way. It’s all you need to come undone, your second orgasm of the night unlatching through you like something forked and angry, battering your sore limbs until there’s nothing left of it or you. You’re a mess, spit oozing down your chin as you slur “thank you daddy” like a broken record, thighs clamping around nothing.
Joel groans as you clench around his cock and continues his relentless pace, hips slapping against yours. The hand he’d been using to rub your clit migrates to your tits, grazing and then thumbing and then tugging lightly your nipples. “There it is, told ya you could be a good girl. Lettin’ your daddy use this cunt to get off, lettin’ me use you. I’m fuckin’ close, baby, where do you want me?”
And you want it even if you shouldn’t, want his cum deep inside of you, want it to leak out into your panties as you walk back to your dorm. You’re still no good at making decisions, too fucked out to tell right from left when you beg, “I–inside, fuck, come inside me, daddy, please.”
Joel practically growls at that, thrusts losing their steadiness as his hips jump and he hurtles towards his release. “Yeah, you’re a goddamn whore, beggin’ for this cum. And you’re gonna fuckin’ take it, yeah… fuckin’ take it.” He slams all the way into you for the last time before shooting his cum into your cunt, swearing and moaning. Breathing like he’s run a mile, he goes slack on top of you, pets the back of your head while he comes down from the exhilaration of his high.
With a gentle kiss to your shoulder, he rises, and the fantasy is over. His cock slips from your pussy, and you feel hollow with the loss. This is where he tucks himself back into his pants, runs a hand back through his hair, tells you to never show your face in his stadium again, and shoves you out the door.
And he does: tucks his softening cock into his boxers, zips up his khakis, does his belt, tames his post-sex head of hair. You wince even if you expected it, leaning down over the edge of the couch to grab your hoodie, already moving to tug it over your head.
“What do you think you’re doin’?” Joel asks, and his tone sounds much more different than the first time he’d asked you. He sounds offended. You blink confusedly, dazedly at him with your arms halfway through the armholes. “Let me clean you up, hun.” Joel side-steps the pile of your leggings and shoes, adjusting the hoodie on your arms and pulling it down your torso. “I know Lucas ain’t done you right, but you deserve to be taken care of, pretty girl.” Your heart pinches in a way that it shouldn’t, not for a hookup with your ex-boyfriend’s coach.
You shift, and he can’t help but look back between your legs where his cum escapes your hole. He manages to pry his eyes away, but not without licking his lips first. “I’ll be right back, baby. Promise.”
When he’s back, it’s with a damp rag. He crouches down in front of you, taking it to the apex of your thighs and wiping away the combination of your releases, careful not to nudge your sensitive clit. He kisses your thigh gently before pulling back, folding the towel on the arm of the couch you’d been crying into just a few minutes ago.
Joel shimmies your ruined panties up your thighs, followed by your leggings. You let him, breath cut like a snipped wire from the sheer intimacy of it all, intimacy you’d lacked with Lucas even after a year of trying. You’d stayed with him for comfortability at your own expense. How stupid could you have been?
Joel pats your knee, eyes soft and weirdly sincere as he looks at you. “I’m sorry about Lucas, honey, but I meant it when I said you deserve to be taken care of.” He rubs the back of his neck before holding something out to you. A business card, his work number plastered in bold sans-serif font across the bottom. “I know this is in reverse ‘n all, but I’d really like to take you out and treat you right, if you’ll let me.”
Saying yes is your first good decision in a while.
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rafecameronssl4t · 5 months ago
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Cart girl || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader
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Summary: you meet Rafe during one of your shifts as a beverage cart girl.
Warnings: swearing idk what else
Word count: 797
A/n: beverage cart girls kept popping up on my fyp and I thought I might aswell 😂
MASTERLIST
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Divider by @yoonitos
“She new?” Rafe cocks his head towards your direction before swinging his club. Kelce and Topper both look to where Rafe was referring to, spotting you surrounded by a few other golfers.
“The beverage cart girl?” Topper questions as Rafe hums. “Can’t say I’ve seen her around before,” Topper says as the three boys watch you from afar. “Shit, she’s coming our way,” Kelce comments turning around to hide the fact the fact that he was watching as Topper looks away briefly.
“Hey, you guys want anything to drink or snack on?” you ask with a bright smile, lifting your hand to shield your eyes from the glaring afternoon sun. The three boys look up from their conversation, momentarily taken aback by your friendly demeanor.
“Yeah—uh, you guys want anything?” Rafe repeats the question to Kelce and Topper, who both nod enthusiastically. “Three Westbrooks, thanks,” Rafe says, his voice casual but with a hint of curiosity as his eyes linger on you.
“Sure,” you reply, stepping out of your cart. Rafe’s gaze follows your movements intently, his eyes raking over you in a way that doesn’t go unnoticed. He exchanges a smirk with Kelce and Topper, who try to conceal their grins, clearly amused by Rafe’s reaction.
“How’s your guys’ day been?” you ask sweetly, your voice filled with genuine interest as you reach for the three cans of Westbrook. “Yeah, yeah, good,” Rafe responds quickly, almost too quickly. “You new around here?” he adds, scratching the back of his neck, his curiosity getting the better of him.
“Uh, not really. I usually do morning shifts, but I’ve switched to afternoons,” you explain, handing them each a can, your fingers brushing Rafe’s briefly. “Cool,” Rafe nods, his eyes never leaving yours, the smirk still playing on his lips.
“Cash or card?” you ask, holding a small notepad ready to jot down their payment details. “Just put it on my tab. It’s Cameron,” Rafe replies confidently, his smirk widening as he notices the moment of recognition in your eyes. “Cameron?” you repeat, locking eyes with him, the name ringing a bell.
Your eyes rake over his features, taking in his confident smirk and the way he holds himself. Tilting your head the tiniest bit, you say, “Well, have a good rest of your day, guys.” You offer a warm smile before turning around and climbing back into your cart.
As you start the engine and drive away, you hear Kelce exclaim, “Fuck, she’s hot, dude,” while slapping Rafe’s chest. Rafe chuckles, his eyes fixed on your cart as it disappears into the distance.
“Yeah, she definitely is,” Rafe murmurs, a satisfied grin spreading across his face as he watches you leave. Topper shakes his head, laughing softly, trying to hide his amusement. “Think she’ll be around for the afternoon shifts more often?” Topper asks, glancing at Rafe. “Hope so,” Rafe replies, eyes still lingering on you.
~
“Y’know, the craziest thing happened to me yesterday afternoon,” you say absentmindedly, sipping on your fruity drink as you watch him line up his shot. His focus on the golf ball is intense, but he pauses for a moment, intrigued by your comment.
“Hmm? What happened, baby?” he replies, turning to make his way towards you. He presses a quick kiss on your lips before reaching over you to grab another club from the bag.
“I met your son,” you say, swirling the straw in your drink with your finger. Ward looks at you, his expression curious. “You saw Rafe?” he repeats, his tone carrying a mix of surprise and interest. “Yeah,” you hum in confirmation. “He’s quite good-looking, takes after his father,” you add with a smirk, watching as Ward chuckles and throws his head back in laughter.
“He’s a coke addict, baby. Best you don’t involve yourself with him, he’s trouble,” Ward warns, his thumb rubbing gently against your bottom lip. His touch is tender, but his words are firm. You stare up at him, undeterred. “He was nice to me,” you shrug, recalling the encounter.
“That’s because you’re a good-looking girl,” Ward says, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and admiration “You think so?” you ask, your smirk growing. Ward chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss on your cheek. “I know so.”
As Ward returns to his game, you can’t help but let your mind wander back to Rafe. There was something about him that intrigued you and you couldn’t help but purposely run into him around the course.
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toxicanonymity · 1 year ago
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stuffing.
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5.7k words, Joel x f!reader x Tommy | sequel here! A/N: ONE SHOT. I had to get this out of my system after that one Uncle Tommy line I wrote in september lol. Shoutouts to: @bonezone44 for being an Uncle Tommy stan, @walkintotheriveranddisappear for running the center for dvp excellence, and everyone who's been supportive. 🖤 Fic recs at the bottom. WARNINGS: I8+, big girthy age gap, darkish miller bros, dubcon (coaxing/pressure, you aren't sure what Joel allows), use of "daddy," sharing, unsafe p in v (individually and together), oral, jacking off, creampies, cucking, MFM, DP (double vag), light degradation, praise, pet names, foot massage. AU where you don't overthink this fic. You’re happy with Joel, but it’s not a healthy relationship with clear communication and boundaries. Joel carries reader. TW: incidental incest via MFM/DVP - If this isn't for you, please quietly move along.
🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂🍂
Joel squats down with one hand on the back of your chair. He admires your face then cups your cheek. “Gotta do somethin’, baby. Won’t be back tonight.” The casual announcement makes your heart race.  He kisses you on the forehead, then stands up. 
“What do you mean you won’t be back tonight?”
“It’s okay, baby. Uncle Tommy’s gonna stay with ya.”
Your face gets hot. Tommy tilts his head down and smiles at you from across the breakfast table. He raises his glass of juice in acknowledgement, but you don’t look at him. You look squarely at Joel, caught off guard by his plans.
“Daddy,” you whine. “Just lemme come with you.” 
“Ain’t that kinda trip, darlin’.” 
“Why can’t he do it?”
Tommy laughs silently and his voice goes up an octave. “What’sa matter, sweetheart? Don’t wanna hang out?” He tilts his head and smiles, then his normal voice returns. “That’s okay.” There's a glimmer in his eye. 
Joel grabs his jacket and kisses you goodbye, then says, “Don’t have too much fun without me,” and winks at Tommy. Then Joel's gone, just like that. Your tummy feels nervous as his truck starts, then drives away. 
-
It's Thanksgiving week. You have a lot to be thankful for. Joel loves you and takes good care of you. You have solar power and a nice farm with a secure perimeter. Tommy is visiting for the holiday. You met Tommy in passing long ago, but his girl at the time was with him, and that was before you were Joel’s. You were just the girl down the street. This week is the first time you've really spent time together. 
Joel would kill any other man for touching you, but apparently he's different about Tommy.  You're still figuring out how that works.  Joel doesn't seem to mind what Tommy sees–or feels–when the three of you are together.  But what about when you're alone? 
Does Joel know Tommy walked by the bedroom window and saw you undressing? Does he know Tommy came to apologize for that when you were fresh out of the shower, and saw you in a towel? Or that he looked you up and down, asked if Joel was treating you right, then gave a low whistle and adjusted himself before he left? Or that you touched yourself almost as soon as he closed the door?
*******
Last night, Joel put you in Tommy's lap in the armchair to give you a foot massage, and you tried not to react when Tommy got hard. “It's ok,” Tommy whispered with his hands on your hips. He pulled you back against his hard bulge with a soft grunt and it gave you a shock of desire. 
“It's ok, darlin,” Joel echoed, kneeling at your feet. Joel placed your heel on his own hardening package as he worked on the ball of your foot. 
Tommy's hand cupped your breast and you tensed. 
Joel glanced up. “Relax, baby. It's just Uncle Tommy.” 
“It's ok,” Tommy whispered again into your hair as his other hand crept up your thigh, higher and higher, until his thumb grazed your panties. Joel continued massaging you, unbothered, then switched to the other foot. 
Tommy's thick fingers glided over your panties and you twitched as he felt the dampness. He lifted his hips with a soft grunt, then cleared his throat.  “gonna take care of your girl tonight, Joel? She's drippin’ like a faucet.”  Your cheeks burned, and Tommy ran his hand down your thigh. 
Joel smiled with half his mouth as he glanced up. “makin’ a mess already?” Joel shook his head.  “Close your legs, darlin'.” 
Your stomach dropped and you stammered, “sorry, uh . . .”
But as soon as you closed your legs, Tommy lifted your dress up, making your whole body tingle with goosebumps. Joel’s face gave away nothing as he looked past you at Tommy.  For a moment, you thought Tommy had gone too far. Then Joel hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, and Tommy held you back against his chest as Joel slid them off. Joel spread your knees, and Tommy's, and knelt between them, closer. 
With his armpits resting over your thighs, Joel looked at your cunt hungrily and spread you open with his thumbs. You tilted your hips for him, feeling yourself gush. “Good girl,” he murmured, then planted his right forearm on your lower belly. With his right fingers pointing down, he ran them through your dripping folds, then drew in a deep breath through his nose before bringing his mouth between your legs. 
Joel lapped at your weeping hole and sucked your clit. He fingered you and made out with your cunt like it was just another night, like he was getting ready to fuck you. Meanwhile, Tommy lightly grinded into your ass, breathing warm and wet into your hair and holding you gently in his strong arms as Joel devoured your pussy. Tommy rocked you gently on his lap, rocking you into Joel’s mouth. Joel ate you out at the same rhythm.  When you came, Tommy’s arousal pressed harder against you and he grabbed your breast. He cooed, “good girl.”  
Joel didn't seem to mind, and it felt really good, but you got self conscious after you finished. Tommy caressed your arm as Joel wiped his mouth off. “I'm sleepy, daddy,” you looked at him with big eyes.
Joel looked at you fondly, squeezed your thigh, and said, “I know, darlin’. Give Uncle Tommy a kiss goodnight.”  You turned around and kissed him on the cheek, then mumbled “goodnight” without meeting his eyes. 
Joel scooped you up in his arms. You went to bed with Joel and only Joel. As soon as he laid you down, you asked, “you're not mad about Tommy touching me?”
“Felt good, didn't it?” 
You gave a small nod. 
“Nice havin’ four hands.” Joel raised his eyebrows and left it at that. 
You eyed the protrusion in his jeans. “I'm comin’, baby,” he reassured you as he unzipped them. He pulled his jeans and boxers down together and his massive erection sprang free. He prowled across the bed, settled between your legs, and you raised your knees, tilting your hips for him. “Good girl,” he whispered as he got himself into place. 
“God damn, even wetter now,” he muttered as he gathered your slick on his fingers and wiped it on his stiff cock. His tip prodded your dripping hole, then he pushed inside with a sigh, making you moan as he split you open. Joel bottomed out, and the sound that came out of his chest was somewhere between a grunt and a groan, “Uungghh.” You whimpered in pleasure. Then, through the thin wall, you heard Tommy cum with a deep moan. Joel chuckled, then bowed his head and kissed you, pausing all the way inside. 
Joel kissed you softly as he buried his length in you, and your lips broke away only to whimper, “Daddy.”
“Yeah, baby doll,” he whispered into the pillow, right by your ear. “Daddy’s here.” You wrapped your legs around him as he fucked you deep and slow. You imagined Tommy lying behind you, grinding against you, whispering “good girl,” copping a feel as Joel fucked you.  You moaned and whimpered under Joel as he brought you to the brink again.  Then, as your wet little pussy fluttered around his cock, he groaned and bottomed out to fill you with his seed. 
**********
Now it’s morning, Joel's gone, and you're left alone with his brother. His brother with the sweet smile, soft voice, and big dick that felt so hard against you. Don't have too much fun without me, Joel said. . . With a wink.   Unsure what to do with that, you avoid Tommy for most of the day, and he doesn't make you hang out with him. He works in the yard and you catch a few glimpses. He gets hot and takes off his flannel, exposing his wifebeater and oversized belt buckle. As he dabs his forehead with his shirt, his bicep swells and the veins on his hand bulge.
Tommy comes in and takes a shower in the other bathroom. There’s a knock on your bedroom door, then it opens. You’re not sure why you didn’t lock it. Tommy’s wearing jeans, boxers, and nothing else. Your eyes linger on his strong chest. He leans with his hand against the door frame. “Think Joel would let me borrow a shirt? Wasn’t plannin’ to work up a sweat,” he chuckles. 
Tommy crosses his muscular arms over his thick, bare chest as you get a white t-shirt out of Joel's dresser and toss it to him. Tommy’s jeans ride down as he lifts his arms and puts the shirt on in front of you. He catches you looking as his head comes through the hole, then he rakes his fingers through his curls. A subtle smile forms, his eyes twinkle, and he gives you a little nod before he walks away. 
Later, you're taking a bath. You sigh as you sink into the water. Then there's a click as the doorknob lock is effortlessly picked. The door opens and Tommy smiles at you with his eyes, biting his bottom lip. He closes the door behind him. The tub squeaks as you quickly pull up your knees to cover your breasts. 
“Musta been touchin’ yourself, huh?” he chuckles as he approaches the tub. “Don't stop on my account.” He winks and his eyes fall on your legs. You scooch them closer together in case he can see through the bathwater. 
Your chest feels warm. You look down and away.
Tommy takes a seat on the tiled floor in front of the garden tub. “C’mon sweetheart, don't be shy.” his arm moves out of view, unbuttoning his jeans. Your nipples harden. He tilts his head to peek from the side and smiles. 
“What do you want?” you ask softly and a low squeak echoes as you shift in the tub. 
“Wanna see ya do it. Go on, finish what ya started.”  
“I wasn't.”
“There's no shame in it, sweetheart”
You swallow and look down.
He studies your face and repeats, “Nothin' to be ‘shamed of. You know that. Right?”
“Tell your brother that,” you whisper and instantly regret it. You pinch your eyes shut and add, “No, don't. . .Please.”
“Oh shit,” Tommy whispers. “Ya can’t, can ya?” 
You barely shake your head, eyes still closed. 
Tommy chuckles. “Controlling fucker, ain't he?” 
You look at Tommy and your eyes widen with some defiant glimmer of hope. “God damn,” he whispers. “keepin’ his girl from touchin’ herself.” He looks down and shakes his head in disapproval.  
He smiles apologetically.  “Guess Daddy knows best, huh?” He tugs his jeans off, and you watch unabashed.  As his pants come off, his boxers ride down, exposing his short, dark pubic hair. You can’t help but admire the way his thigh muscles swell out from his boxers.  
He palms himself over the fabric and raises his eyebrows. “Wanna see it, don’t ya?” He smiles knowingly at you. 
You don’t answer. He shows you anyway, pulling the waistband down under his balls. He's neatly trimmed and his balls are big. He's engorged but not fully hard. 
“Do me a favor and spit in my hand, sweetheart.” He holds it out in front of you. You look back and forth between his eyes, then his freckles. He's a handsome man. His hand stays there, waiting patiently. You gather saliva in your mouth, tilt your head forward, and let it drop into his palm. 
“Good girl,” he murmurs. 
He wraps his hand around his cock and You look into the bath water as his eyes devour your body. In the corner of your eye, you can see him at full mast. He breathes heavier, then moves positions. He sits with his right side against the tub, facing you. He strokes himself with his left hand and dips his right hand into the water. You flinch away then try to relax.  The backs of Tommy’s fingers graze your calf under the water. You squeeze your thighs together. 
“Don't get shy on me now, cupcake.” He reaches behind your calf and touches the back of your leg, near your ass.  Your legs involuntarily part.  He wouldn't do anything Joel wouldn't like. Would he? Somehow the tension of the situation is only making you want it more.  His fingers creep between your legs and caress your inner thigh crease. He sucks in a chest full of air, then gets on his knees. He brings his left hand to your mouth again for lube. 
“Good girl.”  The squelch of his hand around his cock echoes with the new moisture.  He searches your face as half his mouth breaks into a smile.  He holds your inner thigh as he jacks off. Then he straightens your leg so he can see your body better. “God damn,” he murmurs, and the sound of his voice is sharpened by the tile. He rubs your thigh, spits into his other hand, keeps tugging at his cock, then when he's close, he gets up and sits on the edge of the tub. It’s impossible not to look at his stiff, angry cock, glistening with your combined saliva. You still have one knee bent above the water–the knee furthest from him. 
He pumps himself and stands up to face you. “You wanna know how I taste?” He asks. 
You hesitantly shake your head no, unsure if it would be crossing a line.  “Okay, sweetheart. Don't have to.” He aims his cock at the water over your lap, then closes his eyes and groans. “Ohh, God. ohhhh,” it lands sharply in your ears as he erupts. Silky ropes of cum dance in the water, some of it wrapping around your thigh. When he's finished, he pulls his boxers back up, then his jeans, but doesn't zip them up. He sits on the edge of the tub again, leans over it, and kisses you on the forehead. Then he whispers in your ear, “I'll make dinner.” 
—-
You eat together at the kitchen table. There's a cornucopia centerpiece.  The scant conversation is about winter and gardening, until he reaches  under the table and squeezes your thigh. You want him so bad, you blurt out, “what’s happening?” 
He replies, “Huh?” with his hand still on your thigh. 
You search Tommy’s face. “You said it yourself, he’s controlling.” You shift in your chair and he takes his hand back. You continue,  “Why doesn’t he care if you. . .” 
“Ah,” Tommy smiles down at his plate. “Well. . .”  He turns his chair to face you instead of the table. He sits back and manspreads, and his hands rest on his thighs. “I’m just another body to love ya with, sugar.”  His eyes drift to the cornucopia. “And I sure am thankful for it.” 
His eyes return to you, and your heart flutters. 
“He can love on ya when he ain’t here, even.” One of his hands slides up his own thigh to rest closer to his groin. He takes in a deep breath through his nose and nods, admiring you as he slowly exhales. His eyes are darker. 
A desperate want is stirring in your belly. It seems too good to be true. You abruptly announce, “I’m tired. I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Okay, cupcake. C’mere,” Tommy opens his arms. 
You stand between his legs, bend forward, put your arms around his neck and kiss him on the cheek.  As you pull your head back, his hands on your hips pull you into sitting on his thigh. He brings a hand to your cheek, and it melts you. “I wouldn’t do nothin’ he wouldn’t want,” he reassures you.
You nod. 
“End up on the wrong side of the dirt,” he chuckles. When you don’t laugh, he clarifies, “Me, not you. He’d never hurt ya, cupcake.” 
Then he cradles your head with both hands, studying your eyes and lips.  He wets his lips, and your lips part, watching him. Half his mouth twitches. You’re warm all over. He leans in and looks at your mouth again, getting closer. When you can practically feel the heat of his lips on yours, you close the gap and feel a rush of need when your mouths come together. His lips are soft, and the kiss is tender. You pull away after two seconds. 
“Goodnight,” you whisper. 
—---
You lie in bed missing Joel, wishing he would come home.  You feel more at ease with the two of them.  Your mind drifts to Tommy.  At this rate, you wish he would stay.  You’re almost asleep when the bedroom door creaks open. 
“Daddy?” When you turn over, the moonlit silhouette is Tommy's. He's only wearing boxers and there's already a tent in them. He lifts the covers, and the mattress dips under his weight. 
You ask, “What are you doing?”
“'S’okay, cupcake, I told ya. Promise he won’t be mad.”
“How do you know for sure?”
“Your daddy and I been sharin’ our toys for fifty years.”
Your stomach turns, but Tommy adds,  “You're the most special of all, ya know.” He scoots closer. “Never seen him in love before.” 
You feel your body warming and opening up for him. 
“He wants ya to get what ya need, baby,” Tommy whispers. 
Your heart pounds. 
“Even told me your secret word,” Tommy adds. 
“He did?”
“If ya really want me to stop, all ya gotta say is Appleseed.” How would he know that unless Joel told him? 
You turn away from Tommy and he doesn't waste any time before spooning you. His strong arm rests over you and his hand cups a breast. He kisses your neck, soft and wet. The thick, warm rod in his boxers grazes your lower back as he tongues your delicate skin. He kisses your neck with increasing passion, and he kneads your breast.  Then his arousal fully presses against you through his boxers and your nightgown.  
He curves his body around you and pulls you back into him. He sighs and his engorged cock twitches against your crack, giving you a surge of desire. He slides his hand into your nightgown from the top to palm your naked breast and sighs as he grinds against you.  
“God damn, sweetheart,” he whispers as your nipple hardens against his palm. He takes his hand out of your nightgown and cups your breast on top of it again, then his hand slowly slides down your sleepwear, feeling every inch of your torso before arriving at your bare thigh. He nudges his fingers under the hem of your nightgown and slides his hand up your thigh. When his hand reaches your pussy, your top leg lifts ever so slightly, spreading your thighs to make room for him. You're not wearing underwear. 
“Good girl,” he whispers.  You’re aching to have him inside you. “Drippin’ for me ain't ya, baby?” 
He circles your clit, and you moan softly. There's a wet spot on his boxers pressing into you.  “Fuck” he mutters and backs up his hips. “Damnit, I’m drippin’, too,” he chuckles. “Takin’ these off.” 
After taking his boxers off, Tommy hovers over you and you’re still on your side. Tommy's hand comes back to your breast, and you turn your face toward his.  Your lips meet, and after two seconds, you don’t pull away. His lips push yours open and you accept his tongue. You breathe through your nose as he licks into your mouth.  
Tommy pulls back and reads your face, then gives you another soft kiss before settling in behind you, against you, curled around you again. His naked cock is smooth and warm against your ass. He grinds against you for a minute as he massages your breast and moans into your hair.  Then his hand drifts down between your legs and he groans at how wet you are. 
“I gotta be in ya, sugar.” Tommy backs up and wedges his rigid cock between your thighs, and it glides smoothly through your mess of arousal. His tip reaches your clit. You’re throbbing needily. Your hips tilt on their own, offering him your hole. 
“Fuck,” Tommy says as his tip finds your entrance. “Fuck. That’s right, baby.” he pushes his tip into you. You're dying for it, but you're still a little tense and it's making you even tighter. 
“God damn, you feel good. Can't imagine when he first–.” He pushes into you, trying to let your body relax and accommodate his girth. “Oh shit, mmm–that musta been–Fuck.” He pushes a little further. “Relax for me, baby.” He withdraws some then thrusts further into you.  “Relax, sugar,” he whispers. “Just breathe.” You take a deep breath and relax. The last of him slides in and he bottoms out.  “Ohh, good girl. There we go.” He palms your breast and you melt into him.  “We’re right here, baby.” 
He’s got you speared on his cock, spread apart by his girth. “God damn. What a good girl.” 
With his cock fully sheathed, his thick fingers rub circles on your nipple.  You moan, twitching around the new cock buried in the hot center of your body. “Mmm,” he growls into your hair, still not moving. You need friction. He breathes deeply. “breathe with me, baby.” You breathe with him and feel yourself relax more. 
“Please,” you whine, beginning to move your hips. 
His voice is husky. “God damn. Look at ya, sugar. Fuckin’ yourself on Uncle Tommy’s cock?”
“Please,” you whimper again. 
“What's your daddy gonna think?” 
Your walls twitch and your heart skips a beat. “You said–”
“Yeah. . .He'll be fine, sweetheart..” Tommy begins to move his hips. “He’d be proud’a ya, takin’ this cock like such a good girl.”
He begins to fuck you at a steady rhythm, breathing heavily and cursing softly. You begin to relax with his hand mapping the front of your body, and his stiff cock thrusting into you. He palms your tit again and your head tilts back against him. He kisses your neck, and your body opens for him even more. Your cunt swallows him up with every thrust. 
“Ohh, Joel's a lucky man,” he pants with his dick easily sliding into you, making you whole. “Shit, I'm lucky, too–uggh.”  You push back on him as he fills you with his stiff cock. 
He asks, “Little harder?” 
“Mm,” you nod. 
He slams into you and you moan. 
“Yeah, that's our girl.” 
Soon, you’re lost in the pleasure of Tommy’s thick cock pounding you. 
The front door unlocks and you freeze. You’re both facing away from the bedroom door.  “‘S’okay,” Tommy reminds you. He slows his hips, then bottoms out and pauses. “C’mere,” he wraps his arms around you and with his cock still inside, he rolls over on his back, then sets you down on your other side, arms still wrapped around you, his cock only sliding out half way in the process.
As soon as you’re settled, he bottoms out again with a soft moan.   You and Tommy are both facing the bedroom door now. The covers are down around your waist. The handle moves, then the door opens. The silhouette is Joel with his sleeves rolled up. 
—---
As Joel approaches the bed, the moonlight hits him and his face is dark. 
“She’s so good, Joel,” Tommy pants, with you still full of his cock.
Joel comes to the bed and crouches down. “God damn.” Joel gently takes your jaw in his hand and tilts his head. He studies your face, then his eyes land on yours affectionately. “Couldn't go one day, could ya?” He smiles with his eyes and relief washes over you.  
“M’sorry daddy,” you sigh. “Are you mad?”
“No, baby.” Tommy is fucking you slowly. “I ain't mad.” Joel slowly stands up and palms himself over his jeans as he watches your body move to the slow rhythm of Tommy’s thrusts. 
“Really?”
“Baby, I keep ya stuffed so full’a cock. .  . can't blame ya for needin’ it.”
“Yeah,” you whimper. 
“That's what Uncle Tommy's here for,” Tommy whispers. 
“Now I get to see ya,” Joel says “All of ya,” Joel gently pulls the covers all the way off. Then Joel tugs up at the hem of your nightgown and kneels down to take it off you. 
You try to move forward, reaching for Joel, but Joel puts his hand on your bare chest and Tommy pulls you back, bottoming out again with a moan. 
“Want yours,” you whimper.
“Shhh. You're gonna get it.” 
You watch Joel take off all his clothes, and as he does it, he watches you moving at a slow rhythm.  When Joel’s naked, he spits in his hand. He stands by the bed watching you get fucked by his brother, taking in the view as he squeezes his cock. 
“Daddy, please,” you whine. 
Joel sits down on the bed.  Tommy scooches back to make more room and brings you back with him, still impaled on his cock. Joel lies down and faces you. He gets right up against you, and the first thing he does is kiss you. His hard cock lays against your clit and mound, throbbing for you.  You moan into his mouth as Tommy’s cock drags slowly inside you from behind.  
Joel’s arm wedges between your back and Tommy’s chest, grabbing hold of you.  Joel nudges you upward. Tommy takes the hint and pulls out. You wrap your leg over Joel’s hip. His eyes scan your face, marveling at your feral want. Joel’s hand, still on your back, slides down your ass and hooks under it, between your legs, feeling your sopping wet cunt from the back. “God damn, baby. This all you or did Uncle Tommy cum already?”
“Not yet,” Tommy answers. 
Joel’s tip slides through your folds, then he pulls back  and notches himself at your entrance. He moves his hand to your hip, and pushes into you with a sigh. You're so wet and aroused, he sinks all the way into you.  “Fuck,” Joel breathes. “oh, yeah—ugghh–swallowed me right up, baby.” He marvels at how relaxed you are. With Joel’s arm out of the way, Tommy’s tummy returns flush against your back, with his hard, wet cock pressing against your ass cheek. He grabs your tit. 
Joel buries his cock in you. “Oh baby, you love this, don’t ya?” 
You nod. “Love your cock, daddy.” 
“You’re takin’ it so good, baby.  Think you’re wet enough for—ohh, darlin’.” He grinds against you, deep inside you. “You wanna ride this cock, baby?” 
You nod.  Joel slides out of you and you whimper at the loss as he rolls onto his back. Joel lies face up and holds his cock for you. He whispers, “C’mere baby,” but you're already on your way. 
You straddle him and sink right down on him with a whimpered, “daddy,” then bend forward, putting your tits against Joel’s chest. Tommy’s slowly stroking himself and watching. 
“C’mere,” Joel whispers and reaches for your head. He pulls your face into his for a passionate kiss as you grind into him with his cock buried in you. It only takes a few seconds of grinding into Joel for your walls to spasm. 
“Oh god,” he mutters as you contract around him.  “oh—oh, God, baby.” 
As you finish coming on Joel's cock, your whole body relaxes. You’re even wetter and more open than you were before. “Now you’re–oh yeah, you’re good,” Joel whispers to himself with his hands on the backs of your thighs. You both breathe for a moment and you begin to slowly move again.
Joel licks his finger then reaches over your ass, his hand approaching your hole from behind. You stop moving as he gently wedges the thick digit into your cunt from the top so his fingernail is against his cock. “Yeah,” he whispers, moving the finger around, checking how much you'll stretch. “Yeah,” he says as his head turns and he glances at Tommy. 
Joel cups your cheek  and reads your face. “Can I fuck ya with two cocks, baby?” 
You spasm with an aftershock.  “It won't fit,” you protest, but the thought of it turns you on. Your hips begin to move again. You're taking his cock and his finger. 
“Can we find out, baby doll?” Joel asks.
You slowly move on his cock and finger, with your face close to his. Your clit is throbbing.  “You aren't worried to stretch me?”
“You'll snap right back, baby,” Joel pants as he wedges another finger in with his cock. 
“I dunno if I can,” you whine.  
“It’s okay, darlin’. Let's find out.”
“Okay,” you whisper. 
Tommy gets up on his knees and gets close to Joel's shoulder, near your head.  
“Get it nice and wet,” Joel tells you.  
Without getting off Joel's cock, you turn your head enough to accept Tommy's cock into your mouth. You let saliva pool under your tongue, then swirl it all over his shaft until he's dripping. “alright” Tommy whispers, then you deposit the rest of the saliva from under your tongue. “Alright, don't make me cum, sweetheart.” 
Tommy straddles Joel’s legs behind you while Joel hugs you close. 
Tommy nudges your occupied hole. Joel slowly removes his fingers and Tommy’s tip finds its place between the first cock and the back wall of your cunt. Once Tommy's tip is nestled there, Joel’s fingers leave you and both his hands hold your sides. 
“Deep breath,” Tommy whispers. You draw in a chest full of air, and when you begin to exhale, he begins to push in. 
It burns for a moment as Tommy’s cockhead breaches your dripping hole, but his smooth, wet cock feels better than the fingers. “Fuck,” Tommy mutters as he pushes further. 
“Daddy,” you whimper. “It's a lot.”
“I know it is, darlin’, you're doin’ so good.”
“Breathe with me, sweetheart,” Tommy whispers. You take deep breaths and try to relax. The burn fades as your body catches up.  The stretch is only a little uncomfortable around their shafts at the very edge of you. Deeper inside, you feel a fullness you couldn't have imagined.  
“Good,” Joel says. “doin’ real good, baby. You wanna keep goin’?” 
You nod. You take deep breaths and bow your head as Tommy sinks in a little more. 
“God damn, baby. Packed full of it, ain’t ya?”Joel marvels. The look on his face makes you twitch. 
You lock eyes with Joel, bite your lip, and nod. Joel tilts his hips down toward the bed and you groan into Joel’s chest as Tommy pushes into you as much as he can. The burn is fading, and the sense of fullness overwhelms you in the best way. It's not just physical. You close your eyes and savor it. Joel’s hips begin to move. He slides against your front wall, nudging just the right place, making you whimper. 
Tommy slides in rhythm, and his breathing is labored. “Ohhh,” he moans. “Shit-–ugggh.” He warns Joel, “I'm pretty close, brother.”
Joel looks like he's making a calculation behind his eyes. Then he reads your face. “You want double the cum, baby?” 
You nod. 
“That's my girl,” Joel whispers. “That’s my perfect lil girl.” His hips wiggle under you.
“Ohh-fff-uuggh” Tommy pants and pulls back. 
Joel moves his hips and slides within your stuffed hole. Tommy stays still while Joel thrusts a few small strokes and you groan. Tommy pushes forward and you sigh. Joel kisses you. You push back and Tommy slides forward. Joel does another slow thrust upward, then Tommy says “fuck,” pushes another inch, then begins to cum. “Oh god,” Tommy groans. His dick pulses and pulses in your packed cunt as his warm release coats your walls and Joel's cock. 
“Jesus,” Tommy sighs, then begins to pull out of you. The burn returns as the crown of his tip crests your entrance on its way out. Then you whimper in relief. There's a sense of loss as your body slowly draws itself back in, but it's a major comfort still being wrapped around Joel's cock. Tommy lies down on his back to recover. 
“You did so good baby,” Joel brushes your cheek and his hips lift as your body adjusts itself back to his girth. “Ya like havin’ two cocks?” It’s the first time you haven’t felt packed full from Joel’s cock alone, and your temples feel weak. 
You nod hesitantly. “Do I still feel good?”
“Oh darlin’, you feel so good,” he breathes and the tension melts away from your face. 
“Yeah, I liked it,” you whisper. “But I only need one.” 
He cradles your head and  it feels like it's just the two of you. “Love you so much,” he whispers, and brings your face to his again, rolling his hips under you. He kisses you deeply and grinds up into you with his cock all the way inside. Your mouth breaks away with a moan, and your hips begin to move, bringing an obscene squelching sound with them. 
“Oh darlin’,” Joel whispers, and he pulls you back into a kiss.  He grunts into your mouth with a sharp thrust upward, and the tension boils over.  You begin to clench around him. Joel breaks the kiss with a shudder, then he moans your name as you flutter around his cock. His fingers dig into your hips and he pulls you flush, then pulses with a groan. “Ohhhh, fuck—ohhh,” he sighs as he releases a massive load, more than doubling the cum inside you. The rhythm of Joel’s cock soothes you as his load combines with Tommy's. 
—--
You stay on Joel’s cock for a few minutes, and he strokes your back, praising you quietly.  Tommy falls asleep.  Eventually you sigh and whine, "I have to go to the bathroom.” 
“Ok, baby,” Joel whispers and begins to help you off his cock. 
When you come back, Joel helps you into bed between them. You face Joel and he kisses you good night. You feel thankful for him as you drift off to sleep. 
—-
sequel here
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-
Thank you for reading 🖤 I know people want updates on certain Joels but I haven't been having the easiest time and sometimes writing something new is lower-pressure.
Uncle Tommy is a brain worm I've had for a couple months ever since I blurted it out in another series.
I have another recent Joel x reader ft. Tommy with a different set miller bros: leopard print
And a darker Tommy x reader here: birds of prey
-----
FIC RECS
If you like brotherly sharing, a couple of my personal favorites are
I can be your pretty girl part 4, and part 5 by (RIP) walkintotheriveranddisappear who sadly inactivated
Liquid Gold and its prequel Two Hands to Hold by @gasolinerainbowpuddles,
If you like the idea of daddy/uncle, @bonezone44 has Joel, tommy, and Ezra.
More brotherly sharing - Smack My Bitch Up, a raider AU by @milla-frenchy.
If you wanna suck Tommy's big balls, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin has you covered.
More fic recs (and more to come) on my rec blog @toxicrecs.
Alright I tried to bring my tag list back and something went wrong so I might have to remove them from the post sorry 🥲
4K notes · View notes
rainrot4me · 5 months ago
Text
Forgive, But Don’t Forget Me
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Summary: Katsuki takes you home from a UA class reunion party where you had one too many drinks. You get a little handsy, and Katsuki has to figure out how to deal with you and his emotions.
Characters: Pro Katsuki Bakugo x Pro Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Drunk fucking, inappropriate touching, repressed emotions, eating out, fingering, vaginal, fucking your ex, reconciliation, scratching, sappy, dry humping, clothed fucking
Words: 3.6k
A/N: This story is HEAVILY inspired by @/duskumes' comic on twitter! Go check it out!
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Katsuki’s patience had run out hours ago. 
He knew it wasn’t his fault that you drank no less than twelve shots of straight vodka, but in the end, he was the one wrapping your arm around his shoulders as he walked you to his car. You were a babbling mess, barely able to thank him as he buckled you into the passenger seat, leaning over your body to lock the buckle in. 
It was no secret the two of you had dated back at UA, but that was years ago. But somehow, everyone at the UA class reunion party thought he was the most fit to take care of you. Your flirty little hands grabbed at him all through the party, making snarky little comments about his muscles and dick size until he couldn’t take it anymore and shuffled you out the door. He was quick on the goodbyes to his friends, too preoccupied with swatting your hand away from groping him. As Katsuki slid into the driver's seat of his sports car, you leaned on the console, fluttering your pretty eyes at him. “So, do I get to suck your dick now?” Katsuki’s eyes shot wide, taken aback by your brass statement, alcohol swaying your words to an uncomfortable point. “No,” He huffed, bucking his own seatbelt and starting the car. “Hands to yourself.” You huffed, crossing your arms dramatically as you pouted your lips. Katsuki rolled his eyes, shifting into drive as he quickly pulled out of the parking lot and onto the freeway. His radio mumbled some rap music, keeping the music low so as not to overstimulate your already dizzy head and leading to you puking all over his car. 
“It’s soooo hot.” You groaned, leaning into the seat. Katsuki glanced at you, rolling his eyes as he flipped the A/C up, letting the cold air blast onto you. You huffed, spreading your legs wide and causing your short dress to ride up your thighs, your panties peeking out just enough for Katsuki to quickly avert his gaze, gritting his teeth and gripping the steering wheel tighter. This was incredibly frustrating. You watched as the bright street lights zoomed past the window, the freeway mostly empty as it was so late into the night. Your eyes sparkled, looking over to Katsuki and grinning smugly. “Y’know, I’m real good at road head.” You giggled, sliding your hand over to rub his thigh only for it to be smacked away. “I’m well aware.” He grunted, leaning his elbow against the door and his head into his hand. The truth is he was more than aware. He remembered your days sneaking into each other’s dorm rooms like it was yesterday, recalling every time you sunk to your knees any time he asked. He groaned, rubbing his temple as he sped up.
“That party was soo boring, wasn’t it Kat?” You smiled, leaning onto the console and resting your head in your hand. Katsuki turned to look at you, his eyes rolling as he huffed a laugh. “Sure was, until you outdrank everyone there.” You giggled, laying your head on the console. “Not true… Pretty sure Mina had one more than me.” Katsuki adjusted his position, awkwardly laying his hand on your back as you lay on the console. “Difference is she can hold her alcohol.” He chuckled, turning his blinker on and pulling off to a side road leading to your apartment. You giggled. “I can hold your dick.” You ran your hand to his crotch, palming his slacks before he grabbed your wrist tightly and threw it back to your side. “God. I’ve never met anyone who gets this horny drunk.” You sat up, leaning into your seat. “Just horny for you and your big cock.” Katsuki stared at you, knotting his brows before turning back to the road. “Shut it.”
He pulled down your drive, the condos and high-rise apartments of the city shining brightly from the street. Katsuki pulled into the parking garage adjacent to your building, sliding into a spot and shutting the car off. You fiddled with your seatbelt, Katsuki leaning over and clicking the button. He jolted back, your hands pressing onto his chest as you quickly invaded his personal space and pressed your face way too close to his. “Nobody here but us… Let me suck you off…” You hummed, running your hand down his stomach but getting cut off as he gripped your wrist tightly. “You’re drunk. Hell no.” He scoffed, pushing you back into your seat as he unbuckled himself and popped out of the car. Circling to your side, he hauled you out, wrapping his arm around your waist as you nuzzled close to his muscled torso, rubbing your hands over his stomach and feeling his abs through the button-up shirt. Katsuki tried his best to ignore you. Hauled into the elevator, he pressed your floor number, a little shocked he still remembered which one.
Your head rested on his chest, your whole body weight being held up by his arms. It had been so long since he held you like this since he had done anything with you. It was so nice, his cologne filling your nose and making the hairs on the back of your neck stand. Your mind was dizzy, thoughts unorganized as all you could focus on was the man holding you, your former lover in your arms again. Katsuki enjoyed the quiet as you rode up the floors, gripping your side tightly to make sure your knees didn’t buckle under you. Seeing you like this was hard. Seeing you at all was hard. This was the first time Katsuki had even spoken to you in months, your relationship dying shortly after you both graduated from UA to ‘focus on hero work.’ The work kept you both preoccupied, sure, but seeing you after all this time felt like he had never left in the first place. You were still you.
As the elevator dinged, the doors slid open and Katsuki hoisted you out into the carpeted hallway. He found your room, typing in the little access code he forgot he even knew and shuffling inside. It smelled like how he remembered it. Citrus and vanilla, your scent. He tossed his keys on the kitchen counter, kneeling to help you slide your heels off. You pressed your hands on his shoulders, stabilizing yourself as he worked on the overlapping straps. “You look so good down there…” You giggled, running your hand through his spiked hair. He groaned, standing to take his shoes off before leading you to your bedroom. 
He pushed open the door, flipping the lights on as he helped you onto your bed. “Get changed. I’m going to grab you some medicine.” He commanded, sliding his suit jacket off and tossing it on the accent chair decorating the space. You smirked, pulling at the bottom of your dress and slowly slipping it off. Katsuki’s face blew red quickly, spinning on his heels and stepping out of the room quickly. “Oh come on Kat! Don’t wanna help me undress?” You called down the hall, teasing him. Rolling his eyes, he stepped into your bathroom and opened the medicine cabinet, shuffling through the random painkillers and allergy meds until he found a bottle of morning-after pills and shook a few into his hand. He shuffled to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. As he turned, he finally saw just how messy your space was. 
To-go bags littered the living room, unclean dishes were piled in the sink, and random clothes were half-folded on your couch. Katsuki cringed, wondering how a person as organized and upkeep as yourself managed to not only get yourself wasted but let your apartment run to crap too. He stepped back into your room, relieved to see you were in an oversized shirt and not completely naked. You lay on your bed, eyes half closed as Katsuki sat next to you. “Take these. It’s to help your nausea.” He instructed, opening the water bottle for you and handing it to you as you swallowed the pills. You smiled at him, your goofy grin making him chuckle. He patted you on the knee, going to stand and leave before you gripped his arm. “What? All that and you still won’t fuck me?” You slurred, rising to your knees and wrapping your arms around his. Shaking you off, he stood at the end of your bed, watching as you pouted your lips dramatically. “You’re drunk. Goodnight [Y/N].” As he turned, you jumped down from the bed, barely connecting your steps as you grabbed onto his shirt, pulling him to stop. 
Laying your forehead in the center of his back, you breathed in that smell one more time, the flush on your cheeks burning wonderfully. “I haven’t fucked anyone since you.” You mumbled all too fast, Katsuki glancing behind him to confirm if he heard you correctly. He gripped your arm, pulling you in front of him to face your beat-red face as you stared at him. “Nobody.” You urged, standing as still as you could as Katsuki’s hands gripped either arm tightly. You shook out of his grasp, stepping back to sit at the end of your bed before your dizziness became too much. “Kinda ruined all other dicks for me anyways,” you laughed awkwardly. 
Katsuki stood silent, staring at your face as he puzzled his words together carefully. He ran his hand through his hair, sighing as he felt defeated by your pitiful face. “It’s not like I’ve had time for anyone else either.” He groaned, staring at the floor. 
The air turned awkward. Both of you stared anywhere but at each other as you could feel your buzz slowly fading, a headache replacing it. “I’ve only ever been with you, Kat.” You admitted quietly, looking him directly in his fiery eyes as you fiddled with your fingers. “No one else really does it for me like you.”
Katsuki sighed, shuffling over to sit down next to you, silently cursing to himself. Truth was, Katsuki only ever thought about you after the breakup. It wasn’t like he wanted to end things, but he felt he needed to prioritize his career before all else after school. He looked for other partners, going on a date here or there, but no one ever matched the energy you brought him. Even years later, no one still did. “It’s never been anyone but you.” He sighed, glancing at you as your eyes sparkled so beautifully. Slinking your hand to his thigh, you gripped reassuringly. This time he didn’t push you away. You dared, leaning forward, just inches away from his face. 
“[Y/N].” He breathed, staring at your lips. 
“Katuski.” You returned, staring into his eyes.
He closed the space first, quickly wrapping his hand behind your head and pressing your lips together. It made you moan the way his lips danced so perfectly with yours, every tug and tightening grip rushing your memories back to you. Oh, how you missed this. You swung your leg over his lap, straddling him as you tangled your hands in his hair. But his hands were quick to pull you closer to him, cupping under your ass and pulling you flush against him. His moans were lethal, small grunts and gasps while he squeezed your legs and devoured you with his lips. You could feel his bulge grow under you, smirking into the kiss as you subtly pushed your hips down harder, a long groan falling from his lips. It didn’t take much before his hands were gripping your hips, forcefully grinding your cunt against his erection. Grunts and sighs mixed between both of you as Katsuki slipped his tongue into your mouth. The friction was heavenly, your panties and his slacks the only separation from him pressing into you, which he very badly wished to do.
Before you knew it he flipped you over, towering over you as he pressed your legs back, marveling at the wet spot that tinted your panties. He flicked his thumb over the area, your thighs clenching when he brushed your clit. Unbuttoning his shirt, he peeled it off his torso, his thick arm muscles leaving you a red mess under him. Chuckling, he sunk back over you, latching his lips to your neck as he unzipped his slacks and shoved them down his muscular legs and to the floor. His dark boxers did a horrible job at hiding his large erection, the bulge finding its way to your clothed cunt and grinding up onto you. You choked out a gasp, Katsuki’s hips rhythmically thrusting against yours as he ground against you, practically fucking you. It sent you spiraling, your clit throbbing under the pressure while he nibbled on your ear, grunting ever so slightly. It was so erotic. “Kat… fuck-” You gasped, his pace increasing as he cupped his hands under your knees and pressed them back, giving him a better angle to rut against your clit.
You were going to cum and he hadn’t even taken off your panties yet. You felt the knot tighten, eyes rolling as Katsuki’s bulge pressed down on you and abused your swollen clit. He nudged his head into the crook of your neck, moaning through gritted teeth. You whined loudly, pleasure crashing through you as you released into your panties, Katsuki’s thrusts slowing to grind deeper and harder and ride you through your orgasm. You hadn’t come on someone else’s touch in so long, but as you caught your breath, you knew you couldn’t stop at just one. 
Katsuki peppered kisses onto your cheeks and whispered about how good you did, holding his hips still but flush against your cunt as the damp spot slowly grew. Kissing his lips, you smiled, wiping his bangs away from his sweat-glistened face. “Can I suck your dick now?” You asked, wrapping your arms around his neck and kissing his jawline. It was so barely noticeable, but the gasp that left his lips made your body shoot to life. Katsuki leaned back, slinking his rough hands up your thighs and fiddling with the lacey hem of your panties, his cock very obviously twitching impatiently in his boxers. He finally locked eyes with you, your red cheeks and puffy lips sending a shiver up his spine. “Only if you let me eat you out.”
Goosebumps rose on your skin as you sat up, letting Katsuki slip under your hips and lay face-to-face with your clothed cunt. It was beyond embarrassing, it was plain filthy. Deciding not to psyche yourself out about it, you leaned forward, slipping your fingers under the band of his boxers and sliding them down, gasping when his large erection sprung up in front of your face. Katsuki gasped behind you, hands gripping your hips tightly as he moved your panties to the side. It was a sight he missed way too much, brows knitting as he strained his neck to lick a stripe up your folds. Heavenly was the only word for it, little mewls and gasps echoing each other’s lips as you licked a stripe up the length of his cock. You couldn’t tell if it was the alcohol still messing with your brain, but every swipe of Katsuki’s sinful tongue on your clit made your entire body electrify. However, Katsuki grew impatient of straining his neck to reach your delicious cunt and gripped your hips tightly, slamming them down against his face as he slinked his tongue into your entrance. 
Your back arched, hips grinding to meet the pace of his tongue curling into you. You hadn’t realized you were leaving Katsuki’s cock unattended till it was twitching in your hand, begging to be touched. You pressed the head into your mouth, bobbing shallowly as you moaned on his tip, way too preoccupied with his tongue inside of you. It was like he was hypnotizing you, every arch of his tongue making your back arch the same. You squeezed your eyes shut, taking more and more of his length into your mouth until you were choking. You bobbed your head, sucking what you could and jerking off what you couldn’t. You missed the feeling of Katsuki in your mouth, relishing the sweet taste of his precum as it rubbed against your tongue. He was grunting into your cunt, nails digging into your hips as he forcefully ground your hips against his tongue. 
The tell-tale signs Katsuki was about to come were showing themselves, the high-pitched grunts and the bucking hips speeding up his tip at the edge. You could feel his hands tightening, his moans growing louder as he refused to let off of your cunt, choosing to suffocate rather than miss out on one second of your sweet taste. You accommodated, pressing your hips down and bobbing deeper on his length until you choked, and even then holding there a little longer. Katuski whined, bucking his hips up one final time before he spilt into your mouth, the warm seed shooting down your throat and coating your tongue with a sweet taste. He was a moaning mess against your cunt, only letting off to breathe when you forced your hips up. 
“Get over here, fuck-” He growled, gripping your hips and flipping you onto your back before he climbed on top of you. His face was flushed, sweat glistening as his bangs stuck to his forehead. You thought he looked cute, but your sweet thoughts were interrupted as Katsuki lined his cock up with your entrance, rubbing the head against your clit before ever so slowly sinking the tip in. He was careful to gauge your reactions, stopping when you hissed and pushing when you moaned. He was precise about it all, gritting his teeth as your warmth squeezed him perfectly. “This pussy belongs to me, got it?” He growled as he bottomed out, your groans music to his ears. “Got it?” He urged again, gripping your jaw tightly as he began to slowly thrust into you, your walls constricting him so perfectly. You nodded quickly, arms wrapping around his neck as he drove into you, pace quickening. He released your jaw, gripping the sheets under you to stabilize himself so he could snap his hips to meet yours. 
Moans and gasps echoed, each thrust sending you jerking against the bed before you were sinking back onto his cock. “You take me so good… Don’t know how I ever left this pussy…” He groaned, gritting his teeth as he stared into your heavy eyes. He scooped his hands under your knees, pressing them back roughly as he plowed into you. The angle left you gasping, his cock reaching impossibly deep as connected your lips to his, muffling your loud moans. 
The bed creaked loudly, the headboard softly knocking the wall as it matched Katsuki’s thrusts, each slap of your skin echoing loudly. “Kat- Ahh..” You moaned, arching your back and whining at the angle, each thrust sending Katsuki’s cock ramming against your g-spot. It didn’t take long before you were wrapping your arms around his back and clawing deeply, each rapid-fire thrust making your nails sink. Katsuki was relishing in it, the sweet pain mixing with the tight heat around his cock. God, how he missed you. He didn’t know who he had to thank for bringing you back to him, but thank you.
He pressed your knees back further, leaning in to wrap his lips with yours as he felt his release building. Your pleasure rising as well. With a few final thrusts, you were cumming around his cock, your walls squeezing incredibly tight as you moaned into his mouth. Katsuki could barely thrust into you anymore, his hips bucking roughly as he groaned against your tightness. That was all it took before he pulled out of you quickly, thrusting into his hand and releasing all over your stomach. He moaned, slack-jawed as he caught his breath. 
Your lips were still pressing kisses to his cheek as your fucked out expression met his. He grinned at you, his cheeks flushed and eyes heavy as he slowly lifted off of you. He lifted off the bed, shuffling to the bathroom and grabbing a towel before coming back to clean you off gently. You smiled at him, blushing as you watched him so carefully take care of you. You missed this. You missed him.
He leaned over, flicking the lamp off and pulling the sheets of your bed down, lifting your body with ease to place you on the pillow. Nervousness pinged you as you feared he’d leave the bed and tell you goodbye. But as he pulled your body flush against his and pulled the covers over both of you, you sighed with relief. 
You faced each other, bodies flush as you gazed into the other’s eyes. Katsuki kissed your forehead, brushing your hair behind your ear as he wrapped his arms around your body. “Forgive me.” He whispered, peppering more kisses onto your face. “For?” You whispered back, brushing your fingers up and down his chest. He sighed, tucking your head under his chin and holding you as close as he could. “For ever taking you for granted.”
You kissed his neck before nuzzling into him, breathing in his scent deeply as you could feel yourself drifting. “Apology accepted.” You mumbled against his skin, eyes fluttering shut. Katsuki smiled, kissing your head before shutting his own eyes, relishing in your embrace for the first time in a long time.
He promised to never let you go again.
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! 𐚁₊⊹
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puckinghischier · 5 months ago
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Cart Girls & Curly Q’s
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Luke Hughes x fem!reader
summary: luke has a crush on the cart girl
notes: for once, i feel like i didn’t really struggle while writing luke. this probably isn’t one of my best works, but i loved the idea and i’m so glad i was able to try to bring it to life. hope you enjoy!! happy reading! 🫶🏼
request: from my 400 follower celly - “You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.” with Luke and maybe a cart girl at the golf club close to the summer lake house?
[3k]
Most of your friends absolutely hate going to work in the summertime. They hate being stuck in an office or storefront all day, no chance to enjoy the high UV and prime lake hours.
You, however, never wake up dreading your work.
During the cold, Michigan winters, you work as a bartender at your college’s local bar. You attend your classes in the morning, do your homework in the afternoon, then clock into your shifts at night. You have the routine down to a science.
During the summers, though, you found a job as the cart girl at the uppity country club closest to the large community of expensive lake houses you drive by every morning.
The tips are amazing, and getting paid to drive around in the sunshine and watch attractive men play golf all day is what you call a small piece of paradise. Not to mention you’re off by five o’clock every day, allowing time to join your friends and family out on the boat for night swims and evening rides.
Today was especially good, with it being one of the hottest days of the summer, your sales were sky high.
You’ve already had to restock your beer cooler three times this morning, and it’s barely even noon.
Your boss has really been pushing the sale of liquor, so you inform every group you pass about your buy a double, get a single shot half off deal, but nothing calls to a man more than a cold beer on a hot golf course.
Many of the men you’ve served today have given you a tip simply because you’re out working in the heat, delivering beers ‘like an angel’ one middle aged man told you, handing you an extra ten.
You just laughed and told him thank you, pocketing the cash. You always loved weekend mornings, locals and vacationers alike all over the course, upping your sales, and as a result, your tips.
As you’re leaving the club house after yet another restock, you see a group of guys that you assumed were around your age.
They were being loud, but not obnoxious, as they piled into two carts and sped their way out to the course, eager to get their game started.
You wondered when you would see them, having been told not to bother people until they’re at least on hole two. Apparently, people get mad when you try to sell them alcohol in the middle of their first stroke.
Making your way around your normal path, you start at hole eight and work your way in a circle until you get back to the clubhouse, the later holes being your big money makers. People are either celebrating their lead or mourning their loss at that point, wanting a drink either way.
You sell a few shots, making your boss happy no doubt, but run out of beers for the fourth time that day around hole sixteen. You stop and offer to each group after that, selling a few more liquor items, but were mostly told to come back when you had beer again.
Flying down the cart path, you see the same group of guys from earlier around hole seven, one out of the group flagging you down as you speed by.
You slow your cart down to a stop and they walk over to meet you, grabbing their wallets from their carts as they approach you.
“Sorry, boys, out of beer. On my way back to the clubhouse now to restock if you want to wait a few,” you tell them once they’re within ear shot, not wanting to get their hopes up.
“Well, do you have anything you can sell us? I’m getting beat pretty bad out here and need a pick me up. Don’t really care what it is,” a brunette pleaded.
You tell him about the shot deals, and he hands you his I.D., requesting a double shot of crown and ginger-ale before turning and asking his cart buddy what he wanted.
“Jack, what do you want?” he calls over to a guy that looked similar to him, thinking to yourself that they could be brothers.
He explains the discount to the other brunette, saying he’s already paid, just to pick what he wanted.
After viewing the second player’s I.D., your brother theory is confirmed by their matching last name.
Jack, you learned, asked for a simple, funnily enough, Jack and coke.
“Alright, gentlemen, anything else I can do for you?” you ask, turning to face the last member of the group.
You make eye contact with a tall, curly-headed boy, noticing the pink tone of his cheeks when you catch him staring at you.
“Anything for you, curly Q?” you ask him, taking note of how attractive he was. You always play up the flirting a little when you find a player on the course attractive, figuring it’ll help your sales while simultaneously allowing you to have a little fun.
His cheeks turn an ever-deeper shade of red when he realizes you’re talking to him, freezing up and averting his eyes. You feel a little bad for putting him on the spot, but you find his shyness endearing.
“Nah, Lukey here isn’t old enough, is he Quinny? Still got a few months till you can drink with the big bros. Isn’t that right, Luke?” the brunette named Jack slaps who you’ve now learned is Luke on the back.
You let out a chuckle, witnessing the deadly glare Luke shoots at his older brother.
“Don’t worry, they picked a cart girl that isn’t even old enough to drink, either. Won’t be able to drink the concoctions I make until next spring,” you tell him, hoping to alleviate a little of the embarrassment you caused him.
“Oh, wow,” is all he utters out, bringing out another laugh from you.
“Alright, well, I’ll let you boys get back to your game,” you tell them, walking back over to get back into your cart.
You ride off, thinking of the tall, curly brunette the whole time.
Three hours later, you’re tending the clubhouse bar.
When you came back in for restock, your boss told you it was too hot for you to keep your role as cart girl all day, insisting you switch out with one of your coworkers.
You weren’t too upset with the trade off, now in air conditioning but still getting tips from buzzed players after their game, either nursing their loss or celebrating their win.
The clubhouse gets busier as the day goes on, people dipping in for a quick cool off after playing eighteen holes in the heat.
“Hey, new body down on the end. Care to get it for me?” your co-tender, Brady, asks you, the two of you working in tandem.
You nod at him as you finish pouring the beer in your hand, walking down to the other end of the bar.
“Hey, player, what can I get for ya?” you ask the stranger, not looking up as you place a coaster in front of the patron.
“Just-Just a water, if you don’t mind,” he asks, slightly stumbling his words.
You look up to see the curly brunette, Luke, from earlier.
“Oh, it’s you. Curly Q,” you say, grabbing a glass and filling it with ice.
“Name’s Luke, actually,” he tells you, the redness from earlier returning to his cheeks.
“Yeah, I remember. Just think Curly Q fits you better,” you smirk at him, placing the glass full of water on his coaster. “I’m Y/N.”
He mumbles a small thanks, taking a sip from the glass.
“Anything else I can get for you?” you ask him, glancing down the bar to see if any new customers have sat down.
He stares at you, his eyes caught like a deer in headlights.
You wait patiently for an answer, letting out a small giggle when he just continues to stare at you.
“Alright, well I’ll let you think about your answer and be right back,” you laugh as you start to walk away.
“Wait!” Luke startles you, stopping you in your tracks. “Uhh..do you…come here often?” he stutters out, closing his eyes tightly in embarrassment as soon as the words leave his mouth.
Your eyes shine at him with amusement. “Well, I work here, so I think I’d have to say yes,” you respond, smiling.
Luke peeks one eye open at you, seeing your amused expression and sighing, letting his body sag.
“Yeah, I don’t know why I asked that,” he runs his hand through his curls nervously.
You rest your arms on the bar in front of you. “Ehh, don’t worry about it,” you tell him, scrunching your nose as you shake your head.
Luke gives you a nervous smile, sliding his water towards his body and running his finger around the rim of the glass.
“I’m sure you talk to all kinds of idiots like me when you’re serving drinks, huh?” he asks, making your face fall a bit at his defeated tone.
You stand a little straighter. “Nah, not really. Most of the idiots I talk to are just old and creepy, not my age and charming,” you tell him, finally earning a laugh from him.
His laugh was more of an amused scoff, but you already want to see the shy smile that makes its way onto his face afterwards, again.
“Yeah, cause a guy that asks you if you come to your job often is the epitome of charming,” he looks up at you.
“Well, it’s kept me here talking to you so far, hasn’t it?”
Luke blushes, making you think the man in front of you is unable to go two minutes without his face turning red.
“Yeah, I guess it has,” he casts his eyes towards his lap.
“So, Luke, you a local or here on vacation?” you ask him, glancing down at the quickly clearing stools. You know Brady is getting all of your tips right now, but you can’t bring yourself to move from your spot.
“Well, a little bit of both. Technically on vacation because I live in New Jersey now, but my parents have owned a lake house here since I was a kid, so I claim the title of a local,” you finally get him to loosen up a little, his body language relaxing. “Plus I went to U of M for a little while, so I’ve spent quite a bit of time over in Ann Arbor.”
“Ahh, a city boy,” you tease, grabbing a glass to wipe down, making it look like you’re at least partially doing your job. “Why’d you leave Ann Arbor?”
“Got a…uh…job offer in Jersey,” he tells you cryptically, eyes darting around the room.
“‘A uh…job offer?’ What are you, in the mafia?” you ask him, mimicking his words and poking fun at his nervousness at telling you about his job.
“Well, not quite,” he starts, laughing a real laugh this time, causing you to mentally record the sound and store it in your brain. “I…ahhh…I play hockey up there.”
Your eyebrows raise in surprise. “Like, professionally?”
He sinks back into his seat, looking like he wants to hide.
“Yeah. For the New Jersey Devils. My brother, Jack plays for them, too,” He tries to pass some of the attention off of himself.
“Wait, you and your brother both play in the NHL?” the impressed tone of your voice gives Luke a little boost of confidence.
“Well, both of my brothers, actually. But Quinn plays for the Canucks up in Vancouver. Jack and I are both in Jersey, though.”
You let your mouth hang open at him, not being able to hide your shock.
This earns another laugh from Luke.
“What kind of superhuman DNA do your parents possess?” you ask him.
“Not sure. We’re still being studied as we speak,” Luke leans closer, whispering like he’s telling you a secret. “The big wigs in the NHL haven’t found out yet that they grew us in test tubes in their basement.”
You let out a laugh so loud that you gain the attention of several men on the other end of the bar, slapping your hand over your mouth.
Luke leans back in his seat, a fond smile on his face as he sees your embarrassed expression.
“Hey, Y/N, you gonna come help me do your job or what?” you hear Brady yell, annoyed that he’s been working the whole bar alone for the past ten minutes.
You roll your eyes while still facing Luke, removing your hand from your mouth and turning your head to respond. “Yeah, don’t get your club all bent, I’ll be right there.”
Luke’s still smiling at you when you turn back to face him.
“Guess that’s my cue to get back to my job and quit talking to cute boys sitting at the bar, huh?” you spew, realizing what you just said a second too late.
Luke’s eyebrows shoot up, his back straightening in surprise.
You pause all movements, staring at Luke.
“Uhh…anyways, gotta go do my job. Y’know, the thing I come around often for?” you make a call back to Luke’s attempt at a line earlier, hoping it take some of the attention off of what you just said.
Luke chuckles at you. “Yeah, I need to go meet back up with my fellow lab rats, anyways,” he tells you, reaching for his wallet, placing a twenty down on the bar.
“You do realize water is free, right?” you tell him, sliding the bill back to him.
“Yeah. Figured I’d try to make up for the tips I caused you to lose, though,” he shrugs his shoulders, standing from his chair.
“Nope, I’m not taking your money. Feels like you’re just paying me for talking to you,” you tell him, holding the money out towards him and shaking it around, trying to make him take it.
Luke shakes his head at your stubbornness. “C’mon, just take it. Your coworker collected all kinds of tips while you were over here.”
“Nope,” you shake your head, leaning over and grabbing Luke’s arm, placing the money in his hand.
“I need to do something, though. I feel bad causing you to lose out on money that should’ve been yours,” he insists.
“Well, I guess I’ll let you make it up to me,” you start, watching him try to lay the money down again and shooting your arm out, preventing him from doing so. “By giving me your number,” you decide to be bold.
Luke goes still. “Uhh, y-yeah. Sure,” he snaps out of his momentary freeze, fumbling for his phone, handing it over to you.
You put your number in his phone, sending yourself a text before handing it back with a wink.
“I guess I’ll talk to you later?” Luke asks, pushing his stool in.
You nod your head yes, turning to go back to your job duties.
You turn back around after you take a few steps, seeing Luke walking away with his back turned.
“Hey, Curly Q!” you call after him, causing him to turn to look at you. “I get off at five, in case you were wondering,” you shout towards him, flashing a smirk before you walk away.
Luke smiles and shakes his head, making his way towards the other side of the clubhouse.
You watch his figure as he moves across the room, stopping to make small talk with a man, shaking his head before joining his brothers at a small table on the restaurant side of the clubhouse, picking up his menu and browsing the food selection.
You smile to yourself and go back to stacking glasses.
As you’re transferring a new stack of clean glasses to the cooler under the bar, you hear someone call your name from above you.
You stand, rattling off your typical greeting to the new customer.
“Someone named Luke asked me to give this to you,” he tells you, handing you the same twenty-dollar bill Luke had tried to hand you a few minutes prior.
You pick up the bill as the stranger walks away, looking down at it before raising your head and looking for the curly headed culprit.
You meet Luke’s eye, raising a brow at him while lifting the paper money, pointing at it.
Luke shrugs his shoulders and grins from across the room.
Months later, when you’re attending your first ever Devils game in support of your newly titled boyfriend, you watch him skate out on the ice for warm ups, making a bee-line to the seat he provided for you.
He looks at you in his Jersey, a sight he pictured from the moment he first saw you on the golf course last summer, wondering how he managed to impress the pretty cart girl he embarrassed himself with, what feels like so long ago.
Your smile took up your entire face as you waved at him, excited to finally see him play in person. He smiles back, pointing down to the ground, asking if you wanted a puck.
You nodded your head yes, watching him pick up a puck and take the cover off of a small cut out in the plexiglass separating the two of you.
When he slides the puck through the hand sized hole, you grab onto his glove, replacing the puck with a piece of paper before pushing his hand back towards him.
He looks down at his hand, confusion written all over his face. He opens his glove, looking down at his hand, his head snapping up to look at you once he realizes what you had done.
“There’s your tip, hot shot!” you shout at him through the glass, smiling in amusement, seeing the same twenty-dollar bill from the first day you met him resting in his red glove, never imagining that the nervous, bumbling boy sitting in front of you at the bar that day would make you feel like the luckiest girl in all of Michigan, and now New Jersey.
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reidrum · 5 months ago
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all yours if you want me | s.r
pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader
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a/n: i think i really like this but if i proofread it one more time im gonna hate it so im just putting it out now lol. this is the full version of the sneak peak i posted last week woohoo ! also this is my first time writing smut so im sorry if it sucks but i hope y'all like it <3
summary: bau's got their first day off in weeks, and you're heading straight to the club to have some fun, you just didn't expect your coworker/crush to also be there while you're trying to forget him.
cw: 18+ minors pls dni, smut, p in v (dont be silly wrap ur willy), munch!spence, lowkey softdom!spence, suggestive dancing in public spaces, minor insecure reader, reader is afab and wears a dress and heels
wc: 4.6k
pls let me know if i forgot anything and let me know your thoughts pleaseee xx
it was the first friday night off you and any of the team members of the bau had in a long time, and you all were determined to spend it well. jj and hotch immediately went home to their families, penelope and emily decided they were going home to get some well needed rest, rossi went to a cigar club, not really sure what derek and spencer ended up doing, but you knew what you were doing tonight.
you’d had a long standing invitation from one of your college friends for a club night, and at first you’d decline because you’d get swept away on a case, and because you were hopelessly pining after your hot nerdy coworker dr. spencer reid.
spencer was smart in many ways, three PhDs, countless published papers, not to mention that eidetic memory of his. there was one thing that spencer was just fucking dumb at, and it was your shameless flirting at him.
like it annoyed you how clueless he was. you’d bring him coffee in the mornings with hearts drawn on it, fall asleep on his shoulder on the jet rides back, even complimenting his outfit or looks which made him flustered, but still nothing. your harbored crush seemed to stay just that, a crush. and while you’d hope he would get the hint he just hasn’t.
so you pull out your phone to text your friend. 
“barry’s at 9?”
“oh my god FINALLY. i’m there i'll pick you up at 8:30.”
you grin to yourself, this was good. you needed to get out and unwind for once.
you drive home quickly to hop in the shower before your friend comes to get you. throwing on a silk slip dress as your outfit of choice, you slipped your heels on and met your friend in the car.
walking into the club, you’re met with the thumping bass of the music playing and the staunch smell of alcohol, sweat, and sex.
it made you think about the last time you got laid, which was a really long time ago. and honestly you wanted to sleep with spencer so bad you hadn’t been making advances elsewhere. but that was going to change tonight, you were determined to have good slutty fun, and hopefully get laid.
your friend grabbed your hand and beelined to the bar, ordering two tequila shots each. once you downed them you moved to the dance floor and started preying for a target. as you’re scanning the room, you notice a familiar looking mop of brown hair standing next to bald headed man. a combo you knew all too well.
-
derek morgan was a player. and before he’s a player, he’s a damn good friend. which was his reasoning for dragging spencer out of his apartment to come out to the club and have fun.
“but i can have fun at home by myself morgan.”
“kid, you need to let loose once in a while. you are young, i’m just helping you take advantage of it.”
-
so now spencer’s at the club (a sentence he still struggles to believe) wearing trousers and navy button down shirt to which morgan had popped the top buttons open because ‘it gives the ladies a sneak peek’. he just rolled his eyes and went with it. he’s nursing a shirley temple at the bar, perusing the environment when he comes across a pair of eyes he knows like the back of his hand.
when you recognize the amber eyes you couldn’t believe your luck. of course, on the one night you’d decided to explore other options he shows up in the least expected place for him to be. so much for getting over him, you think. shyly raising your hand to wave, spencer returns the gesture. morgan takes note, “who are you waving t- oh, pretty girl is here huh pretty boy?” he nudges him.
a blush raises on his face. spencer thought you were attractive, like really attractive. you were a great addition to the bau and he admired your work ethic a lot, the day you walked into the bullpen wearing a fitted pantsuit had his own pants growing real tight. he still remembers when you introduced yourself and he couldn’t even get up without exposing himself. you thankfully didn’t think it was weird, and spencer was relieved when it was finally time to go home. he’d be lying if he said he didn’t have nights where he wished you were the one finishing him off and not his rough hands. he didn’t think you’d like someone like him, and took all of your ‘advances’ as morgan calls them, as acts of kindness.
morgan laughs as he watches spencer’s iq deteriorate to below 50 staring at you, “do you what you gotta do man. but you better be going home with someone tonight okay?”
spencer nods and nurses his drink a bit and looks back to morgan to realize he’s already off dancing with some girls in the corner. damn.
after your distanced encounter with spencer, you decide it’s time to move on and have some fun on your own. you couldn’t be hung up on him anymore, at least not tonight. tonight was for bad decisions.
good thing bad decision walked up to you asking to dance, whatshisname leads you to the dance floor and puts his hands on your hips, swaying to the beats of t-pain and pitbull.
you didn’t know, but spencer was watching every move you made. he watched you get led to the dance floor, the way he placed his hands right on your ass and squeezed, and how he turned you around so you were dancing on his front with your back. he gripped his glass so tight the bartender had to tell him he’d have to pay if it breaks.
he gets it, you’re attractive. this is the kind of thing that happens to people who look like you. who wouldn’t want you? but then he watched it happen a second time. and a third. and a fourth and fifth, till he just stopped counting at nine for his sanity.
spencer was not used to the green monster taking over him, but oh god was he fucking seething with jealousy.
you realized spencer was watching you by whatshisname number five. he hadn’t moved from his spot and he was constantly staring in your direction. deciding to do a little experiment, you played up your dancing a lot more, acting more flirtatious, dragging the guy’s hands further down, and letting out open mouthed moans that you knew spencer couldn’t hear but could definitely see. you watched as his jaw shifted and his knuckles turned white as you danced with each guy, realizing the growing effect that you now had on him.
by whatshisname number nine, you casted your hook. making sure to face spencer and meet his eyes, you watched as they darkened when he realized you were looking right at him. spencer might’ve brushed it off as a coincidence, but then you winked at him. and he realized what you were doing—you were taunting him, and fuck was it working for him. the bulge in his pants grew uncomfortable that he had to stand up to not draw so much attention to it under the bar lights. 
you watched him stand up and adjust himself and you threw your line. when he looked back up at you, you made a come here motion with your index finger and a bite of your lip. spencer’s eyes darkened impossibly more, he paid for his tab and strode over to you.
sinker.
he pulled you from the man behind you, who muttered a ‘what the fuck’ and moved away. spencer pulled you flush to his chest and with a low voice in the crest of your ear he whispered, “what do you think you’re doing?”
“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about dr. reid, could you explain it to me?”
spencer tightens his hold on you and ghosts over your ear once more, “this is a dangerous game you’re playing, sweetheart.”
“a game you joined the second you walked over here.”
he looked at you with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and matched the small smirk on your lips. game on.
the song changed to something with a more sultry beat, and you used the opportunity to wrap your arms around his neck and let his hands guide your hips to the music. while he wasn’t much of a dancer, he could definitely keep a beat. it didn’t prove to be so difficult when your chest was pushing up on his own that he was just waiting for them to spill out. he realized he could feel your hardened nipples through your slip, the nubs rubbing friction through the fabric of their clothes. he moaned internally while he gripped your hips to pull you even closer. it was clear spencer seemed to be getting comfortable with moving your body and holding you close, but you couldn’t let that happen.
before the second chorus you turn around in his arms so your back is pressed up against his front, and you start dancing on him.
spencer’s taken by surprise, something you felt when his hands faltered the confident rhythm it kept up, and while he watched you dance just like this with all those guys it’s like his mind is blank now.
you recognize the song playing, collide by justine skye & tyga, and use the sultry beat to your advantage. you move your ass hard on his front, feeling his length pressed between your cheeks. you gesture for him to lean his head down and he lets out a low groan as you whisper in his ear, “all that for me?”.
a primal instinct starts to take over spencer’s being, and he grips your hips to meet his rutting from behind. spencer was desperate for any friction that could soothe the growing ache in his pants. you grinned as you felt take what he needed from you. it was quickly wiped off your face when you felt his hands inching dangerously close to where you really wanted him.  you place your hands on his with surprise and look at him, “what are you doing?”
“i don’t think i know what you’re talking about, sweetheart,” he threw back at you, “but if there’s something you’d like me to do, i’m all ears.” spencer grazes his fingers under the hem of your dress, toying with the lace band of your panties and slipping his fingers below it to stroke your inner thighs.
fuck. he turned it on you so fast it almost gave you whiplash. the provocative dancing was something you could handle, hell everyone on that dance floor was doing the same thing as you both. what you weren’t sure you could handle was him about to touch you in a public space. but, your body betrayed you as it turned you on to another plane. you look up at him with lust filled eyes and let out a breathy moan of his name. spencer collapses internally and stands his ground, “if you want something, beg me.”
spencer thinks he’s won the upper hand, and he’s feeling so smug behind you. he still thinks he has the upper hand until you reach down and place his middle and index finger in your mouth, circling your tongue around the digits.
“touch me.” you moan out, releasing his fingers.
spencer is dumbfounded how he’s the one about to burst out his pants when he made you beg for him. it should make him feel embarrassed at how close he was, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. not when you in his arms pleading him to do something. you sounded so pretty, and who was he to deny a pretty thing like you?
his fingers continue their journey down, outlining the lace trim resting on your thighs. he hooks his fingers on the fabric to pull it aside and slips into you, going at an aching pace to gather the wetness and groaning out, “jesus, you’re so wet, was this all for me? you needed my attention that bad, baby?”
you whimper and grip his hand even tighter because you’re not sure if your legs are holding out any longer. it’s all so overwhelming—having his hands down your panties in the middle of the dance floor, the lewdity of the noises in your ear, the hard length pressing desperately on your ass. this is all you’ve ever wanted from him, to want you. and now it’s happening, and your brain can’t fire the neurons fast enough to process the moment. instead your body responded with your skin heating up with anticipation, heart beating out as much adrenaline to keep up. the daze is getting foggier by the second as he trails his fingers up and down your slit, spreading the wetness and circling your clit on the way up. and you think you’re about to get accustomed to the pace he’s set, when he delves between your folds and you moan out loud so abruptly that the nearby patrons looked around wondering where it came from.
you can feel spencer’s shit eating grin behind you as he moves his head down to leave love bites on your neck. if he can feel your bluff dissipating, he’s not saying anything. his fingers set a painfully slow rhythm, and you grind down trying to get any more friction to reach your peak. he’s hitting you in all the right spots that make you see the stars and beyond, leaning your head back on his chest as you barrel towards your climax. you feel yourself mere seconds away from reaching, and spencer suddenly pulls his fingers out, making you whine out in protest, “wh- what are you doing?”
spencer grabs your wrist and starts dragging you through the sweaty bodies surrounding you, tightening his grip with a small smirk as he passes a few of the guys you were dancing with earlier. suckers.
he pushes the doors open with a force and while the cool air is attempting to return your body to homeostasis, the anticipation of where he’s going overtakes you, “spence, where are we going wh-“ you cut off your sentence with a gasp as he handles you flush to the door of his car. then it’s just silence for a few moments. no loud bass or weird dudes, just the two of you. the only sound that can be heard are your breaths competing for prominence. you look up at him and focus on the details of his face illuminated by the moonlight, trying to read his expression. his honeyed eyes have fully darkened to a lustful hickory, and suddenly you felt like a gazelle being preyed on by a lion.
he reaches into his pocket and unlocks the car with a soft beep. it’s the focused eyes on you that drive you to open the door, but it’s the subtle silent nod of his head towards the car that makes you move inside waiting for him to join you. he climbs in after you, shutting the door and locking it.
spencer moves to the middle seat and allows his legs to spread open, he taps his thighs and faintly says, “come here.”
you shuffle closer and swing your legs over him, your dress rising up a little as you fully sit on his clothed crotch. and now you realize the corporeality of the moment. it’s like, really real now. all this time pining after the boy genius with no luck and now he’s got you in the backseat of his car and your panties crooked, waiting for you to move. the bravado you wore and so tightly held onto for a majority of the night comes crashing down like a shattered vase, and you’re not sure if you have any more in you to salvage the pieces. you may be a profiler, but try as you might you are not a mind reader, yet you so desperately want to know what he’s thinking. is it too much to ask what this means? will it overwhelm him to say you’ve dreamt about this moment for many nights, and how those dreams went on till the early morning when he’d stay and brush your hair back with a temple kiss. the whispers of sweet nothings sticking to you like honey as you got ready for the day. are these questions you even want to know the answer to?
you may not be a mind reader, but he is dr. spencer reid, who noticed your demeanor change after too long of a silence.
“hey,” he holds your chin delicately to your eyes, “it’s okay if you want to stop, i’m sorry for tak-“
it’s your turn to cut him off, “no! no i, i still want this, i just,” you falter.
“just what, baby?” he coos softly.
it makes tears well up in your eyes, you hope he can’t see them, “i’ve just wanted this for so long, and it’s probably embarrassing that i’m admitting this now of all times, but i don’t know if i can handle this meaning more to me than it does to you.” you confess quietly.
spencer listens to your admission and gingerly resecures his arm behind you, a position he thinks is starting to become second nature. he rubs soft shapes into the small of your back, “what makes you think that?”
“because i basically threw myself at you tonight, and it seems to be the first time you noticed me.” you say halfheartedly. 
“you think i don’t notice you?” he whispers, leaning in to leave soft kisses in the crook of your neck. spencer is dumbfounded, confused at how you reached such a conclusion. but as a man of science, he feels there’s only one way to prove himself. he breathes your name out, “can i show you how much i notice you? please?”
you nod, at least you could commit this moment to memory if it was all you’d have left of him. he presses his lips to yours for the first time that night, your breath faltering as he becomes more feverous with his attacks. slotting his tongue with yours, your hands move up to his silky hair to take purchase in. he lets out a groan as he pulls back from you, “i need to taste you.”
he guides your body to lean back on the center console, the only way his tall figure would be able to accommodate this position. your legs are still split on either side of his legs, using your hands to prop yourself up to watch his movements. he hooks his fingers on the sides of your panties and slowly slides them down, moaning at the way your slick causes resistance as he pulls them off your legs. wrapping his arms under your thighs to lift you up to face level, he places small kisses on your inner thighs as he makes his way to your core. he places a final kiss on your center before licking a long stripe up to your clit. moaning out wantonly, he continues his ministrations and kitten licks all over you, circling back up to your clit after each round.
“spence..” you whine out. he moves his focus to your clit, circling and sucking till you’re squirming in his arms so much has to grip your thighs. your hands are fussing through his hair, gripping and pulling to find something to ground you. spencer then slips his fingers into your core for the second time tonight, and you lose it.
he’s pumping his fingers in and out, that all you can hear is the squelching noises of your cunt. adding another one, you’re unable to stay still anymore, as if you were before.
“oh my fuck, spencer. i’m gonna cu-, cum. please don’t stop, don’t stop, don’t stop.” you moan out filthy.
spencer unlatches his mouth for a moment, “come for me, baby.”
your orgasm crashes down on you like a wave breaking on the shore. it’s all consuming, leaving you shaking and breathless and he lifts his head from between your legs and you see his chin glistening with you in the moonlight. the sight itself is so pornographic, you can’t help but shuffle back onto his lap to crash your lips back to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. he tangles his hands in your hair as you move yours between you both, unzipping his trousers to palm him through his boxers.
he breakily moans in your ear as you slowly pull back the band to take him out. the sight takes you by surprise, you knew he was big, you felt it on your ass while you were dancing. but seeing how it compared to your hand had you bulging your eyes.
“you’re so big,” you whisper. how the hell was that fitting inside of you?
spencer the mind reader places his hand on top of yours as you lazily stroke him, “we’ll go slow, don’t worry.” he can’t help but feel his ego inflate to the skies, he can’t remember the last time he had someone look intimidated by him.
nodding faintly, you gather the spit in your mouth and let it fall between you both to land on the flushed pink tip. you spread it up and down his length, setting a slow pace that had him moaning expletives in your ear.
“oh-, ohhh, fuck baby. you’re so good at that holy shit,” he says trying to hold himself together. you give him a few more pumps before lifting your hips up to guide him inside you. you move his tip to your entrance, rubbing it teasingly before spencer places his hands on your sides to stabilize you, and slowly sink you down onto him.
the second his tip pushes past your folds, you both moan out in harmony. placing your hands on his shoulders you leverage yourself to sink down further inch by inch, until your core is flush with the base of his thighs.
spencer is a man of many words, maybe too many. but right now the only word he can remember is your name as he watched you take his length whole inch by inch slowly losing any restraint he had left. the pressure his cock had inside of you was heavenly. you’d never felt so full, and you could tell he was trying so hard to stay still as you adjusted above him.
when you bottom out spencer throws his head back against the seat, “oh that’s it, good girl,” you clenched around him. “you okay?”
you nod in response, ignoring the way the term of endearment sent flutters to your heart, and attempt an experimental rock of your hips, causing spencer’s head to whip up and meet your lust blown eyes with his own. he adjusts his hands on the sides of your thighs and starts helping you move up and down on his length, setting a brutally slow pace.
you rest your head and moan into the crook of his neck as he continues his movements, “spencer, please, more, i can take it.”
he still can’t believe what’s happening right now, all those days he spent thinking about you in the bullpen, at home, everywhere really, and here you were begging on top of him to fuck you good.
“you still think i don’t notice you?” he says into your ear, “i have dreamt about what you’d look like bouncing on my cock, and you are blowing any idea i had out of the water.”
you whimper as he continues, “and when i’m not thinking about ruining you, i am in awe at how you walk through life. you bring so much joy everywhere you go, it’s a blessing to be able to experience you.” he says through shaky breaths.
the praise goes straight to core, with some traveling to your heart again, and you’re not sure how much longer you can hold on before you unravel physically and emotionally.
his hands are guiding you up and down at a harder pace now, “so,” thrust. “you still think,” thrust, “i don’t notice you?” he thrusts into you once more and holds you down, making sure you’re looking directly at him, “it was never an option to brush past you, you are everything to me. i didn’t know how to show that without overwhelming you. i’m sorry.”
tears well up in your eyes again, spencer notices this time and presses a small kiss on your forehead. all your senses feel like they’re in overdrive, unable to comprehend anything right now. your skin feels like it’s on fire as he rolls your hips faster to meet his ruts.
“spence, i- i’m so close.” you whine desperately. 
he slips his hand between you both to rub your clit, “i know baby, i’ve got you. let go for me.”
his words were enough to break the dam, your second climax of the night hurling towards you. the white hot feeling overtook your whole body, shaking and clenching above him. your grip on him was threateningly vicious, probably leaving deep crescent marks in the nape of his shoulders. you wish the euphoria would last forever if it meant having spencer like this. as you came down from your high, the two of you were still moving together, slowly rocking your hips to meet each other. once you were grounded again, you pushed through the sensitivity in your core to rise up on his length, just barely leaving the tip in before you slid back down fast and hard, now focusing on spencer reaching his peak.
“oh jesus, fuck.” spencer moaned out brokenly.
“come on spence you can do it,” you taunted as you clenched down, “come inside me, make a mess of me please.” a rush of confidence flowed through as you whispered into his ear, and spencer held your hips to help you bounce faster on him.
spencer let out a loud groan as you felt the hot spurts coat your insides, he was leaving matching crescent marks on the sides of your hips as the ones on his shoulders, making sure all of him was left in you. feeling him soften inside, you remained on his lap with him sheathed in you. you both are breathing heavily, leaning back to hopefully give you both some relief from the sex filled air. looking around the car you realize that all the windows are fogged up and let out a tiny giggle.
“what’s so funny?” he looks up at you slightly amused and very out of breath.
“no it’s just, the windows are such a dead giveaway for what we just did in here.” 
“eh, i don’t really care what people think.”
“gasp, dr. reid wants to let the world know he has car sex with random girls?”
he leans in to bite your neck playfully, “random? did nothing i said during all that register for you?”
you yelp and attempt to play dumb, “actually i don’t remember a word, you might have to jog my memory. maybe even recreate the circumstances to help with cementing it. i read about situational memorization where certain scenarios are easily remembered when there’s a big event to anchor it to.”
he swears he could’ve melted on the spot at you explaining a concept you’d read about to him, “careful sweetheart, calling it a big event might inflate my ego a little too high.”
“i mean, i can tell it worked,” you tease as you feel him harden inside of you again, “so tell me genius, how many times does a scenario have to happen for me to remember the information?”
“i guess we’ll have to find out, don’t we?”
2K notes · View notes
fastandcarlos · 5 months ago
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Biggest Fan : ̗̀➛ Lando Norris
summary: lando had never expected to fall in love when he was invited to visit psg…that was until he met you
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liked by oscarpiastri, danielricciardo and 849,302 others
landonorris: pretending to know what I’m doing 😂 thank you psg for inviting me to watch a game tonight - I loved it ⚽️
73,940 comments
username1: new signing when???
username2: I love that he went to watch the women, I heard he even stayed around to meet the players after too
danielricciardo: not you pretending to be good at another sport
landonorris: @/danielricciardo idk what you’re talking about, ronaldo is quaking in his boots 😂
username3: nobody show this photo to manchester united
oscarpiastri: so this is why you refused to have dinner with me tonight 🙄
username4: footballer lando was an aesthetic I did not prepare myself for
georgerussell63: personally very offended you didn’t invite me to come and enjoy this with you
logansargeant: I thought I taught you better than this…this is what we call soccer 🤦🏼‍♂️
landonorris: @/logansargeant get in the bin 🗑️
username5: I play football too, come and see me play instead 😂
ynusername: thank you for stopping by and seeing us, we had a great time meeting you and learning a bit more about formula 1 ☺️
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liked by ybffusername, jackie_groenen_14 and 482,050 others
ynusername: quick getaway during the winter break ⛷️❤️
39,583 comments
username6: wait what whose the guy
username7: since when has y/n been in the dating game wtf
ybffusername: excuse me missus, you’ve got a lot of explaining to do
grace_geyoro: you said you were going on a solo ski holiday 🙄
ynusername: @/grace_geyoro whoops 💁🏻‍♀️
landonorris: the question is…are you as good a skier as you are footballer?
ynusername: @/landonorris I’m a woman of many talents 😂
username8: are we watching lando norris shoot his shot with the y/n y/l/n right now
username9: peep how y/n was the only player he followed after visiting psg
username10: can’t be the only thinking they’d make a pretty hot couple 🔥
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 382,493 others
ynusername: thought I’d repay the favour and see what f1 is really about, thank you for a great day mclaren!! ps am i a papaya girl now?? 🏎️🧡
48,596 comments
mclaren: you’re welcome back anytime y/n 🧡🏎️
username11: how do you look better in papaya than in red and blue 😭
username12: the photo of lando’s garage too 🤔
oscarpiastri: it was lovely to meet you, make sure you come back and visit us soon!!
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri give me a date and time and I’ll be there…I had a blast!!
username13: has lando managed to turn y/n into an f1 girlie?? 😂
landonorris: definitely think you should stick to kicking a football around 😂
ynusername: @/landonorris I’d have been able to drive the car if I didn’t have such a rubbish teacher 👀
username14: something is brewing…trust me
georgerussell63: the mercedes garage is always open fyi 😂
ynusername: @/georgerussell63 lando told me to tell you I’m a mclaren girl now
username15: omg lando told y/n what to say
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liked by username16, f1source101 and 3,593 others
f1wags: rumour has it around the paddock that y/n and lando aren’t just winning on the pitch and in the car but off them two. our sources have told us that the duo have been spotted throughout the weekend looking very close with each other. maybe not so much friends after all?
695 comments
username17: my heart won’t ha able to take it if these two start dating
username18: officially now my only otp
username19: lando has seemed to be a lot happier recently ☺️
username20: pls don’t break my heart like this lando
username21: they both deserve happiness!! we need confirmation asap
username22: I’ve never shipped two people harder
username23: apparently they were all over each other most of the weekend 🥰
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liked by psg_feminines, oscarpiastri and 439,103 others
ynusername: huge win in lyon tonight, so proud to be part of this time ❤️💙
38,594 comments
psg_feminines: two goals and an assist…you’re our superstar y/n!
username24: yay y/n!! man of the match for sure tonight!
landonorris: huge win!! smashed it legend 💙❤️
ynusername: @/landonorris I didn’t realise you were watching 🥺
landonorris: @/ynusername ofc I never miss a match ⚽️
username25: it’s not fair how one person can look so good on the football field
oscarpiastri: can confirm that lando was glued to the screen for the entire match 😂
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri I’m so sorry you had to sit through it 😬
username26: lando’s so busy and yet he made time to cheer for y/n
username27: can you two just date…forever??
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liked by landonorris, ybffusername and 593,054 others
ynusername: a well deserved weekend off, with some pretty cool company too 🌊🤍
73,842 comments
username28: LANDO LANDO LANDO AODLDQML
username29: damn I knew it
ybffusername: you’ve got to be kidding me right now omg
username30: my heart has never beated so fast in my life
landonorris: look at you all sunkissed and relaxed 🔥
ynusername: @/landonorris it’s amazing what a holiday - and pretty fun company - can do 🥺
username31: this is everything!!
danielricciardo: I’m guessing my invite just got lost in the post 😔
alex_albon: look at you two 😘☺️
username32: my two favourite people in the world
username33: oh to be on a beach with lando norris
oscarpiastri: make sure you bring him back in one piece y/n
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri 🫡🫡🫡
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liked by georgerussell63, alex_albon and 583,506 others
ynusername: always an honour to wear the badge of my country, a great weekend of internationals before heading back to paris! merci ⚽️🏆
69,293 comments
landonorris: so glad I could be there to watch 🥺🥰
username34: lando was there that’s so sweet
username35: notice all of lando’s friends in the likes, they adore y/n too
username36: people on social media are saying how loud lando was all night long
username37: @/username36 I was there…he didn’t stop cheering every time y/n touched the ball ☺️
alex_albon: who knew watching football could be so fun 😂
oscarpiastri: even without lando I tuned in…what have you done to me y/n??
ynusername: @/oscarpiastri you’re so sweet, thank you 🥺
username38: y/n has been playing out of this world since she started talking to lando
username39: world cup incoming surely!!
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liked by ynusername, maxverstappen1 and 904,843 others
landonorris: adventuring with my favourite person ❤️💙
104,382 comments
georgerussell63: we get it okay, you’re not single anymore 😂
landonorris: @/georgerussell63 now you know how I’ve felt for all these years
ynusername: I had the best time with you!! thank you for being the best taxi driver 💕
landonorris: @/ynusername it’s an easy job with you as passenger princess
username40: you cannot convince me that these two aren’t just the cutest couple in the world
username41: being driven by lando is the dream, y/n is so lucky damn
danielricciardo: looks like a great adventure!! 🤩
maxverstappen1: love seeing you so happy brother ❤️
username42: wherever they are, I want to go
username43: still managing to get the papaya in too 😂🧡
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liked by psg_feminines, oscarpiastri and 1,392,906 others
landonorris: champions league final ⚽️ so proud of you and the team my love for getting this far - you’re amazing!! 💙❤️
104,593 comments
alex_albon: good luck y/n, we’re rooting for you!!
oscarpiastri: lily is disapproving but I’m watching too, go y/n go!
georgerussell63: cannot wait to see you at the next race with that winners medal round your neck!
danielricciardo: ik nothing about football but hoping you win y/n ❤️
maxverstappen1: just remember to do what I don’t, aim at the goal 😂 you can do it y/n!
lewishamilton: no doubt in you y/n…victory is yours!!
mclaren: everyone at the mtc is rooting for you y/n 🧡🧡🧡
logansargeant: good luck on the soccer field y/n 🏆
lance_stroll: idk what the champions league is, but judging from your suit I’m guessing it’s serious - good luck y/n
carlossainz55: seeing as madrid aren’t playing I guess I can cheer for psg just for tonight 😂
charles_leclerc: allez y/n allez psg
ynusername: thank you for always supporting me - and everyone else too ❤️💙⚽️
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liked by danielricciardo, landonorris and 593,604 others
ynusername: winning on the field and off the field these days - ily lando 🩷💕
58,704 others
landonorris: if anyone is winning, it’s definitely me 😂 thank you for choosing me 🧡❤️💙
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˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
2K notes · View notes
hazelfoureyes · 6 months ago
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Alastor in Rut (one shot)
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Rutting Alastor x Fem Rabbit Reader
Less than confident and lacking much in the way of assertiveness, you find hell to be scary. But, a very kind and helpful deer demon has a solution! Just in time, as an unexpected rut hits him and he feels the need to reel you in.
this is pure self indulgence. Shout out to @jazzmasternot , @lustylita , @sugoi-writes , and @minkdelovely for keeping me sane and horny (with art lol)
「Warnings/Promises: actual warning - mentions of accidental vehicular homicide and reader's death, Marathon Smut, p in v, finger almost in a?, anal is considered, knotting because fuck it, attempt at breeding, womb flooded, not dubcon but everyone in the hotel thinks it is, slightly repetitive fucking because he wont waste semen on other holes, Alastor would fuck anyone but you’re the most amusing, Alastor doesn’t think he’s the good guy which is honestly kinda cute, deadass talk about making you carry his fawns?? Why is it so hot?? Knock me up deer man bleat bleat bitch, implied previous relationship with a human man, plans to cuckold your ex, heat, blue fire isn’t hot, you’re tricked into a deal with Alastor, kinda size kink, demon Alastor, minor aftercare, a little sexual choking (as a treat)」
Hey--- we're all here for something. This is 10000 words, 5300 or so is smut. Smut starts at the bright green divider for you impatient and horny deeries.
MINORS YOU KNOW THE DRILL DNI
The line for reception was long, but that was to be expected. After the extermination ended early and Adam killed on television by a maid, the Hazbin Hotel had been busy. Or so you overheard others saying. You’d only been in hell a day, lucky enough to catch the advertisements and hear the gossip for the hotel soon after your descent.
You recognized the princess immediately, but not that tall man beside her. He wasn’t doing anything, just staring and smiling. Was he friendly? Were there friendly people in hell? Truly friendly. Not high school girl friendly. Or hungry witch friendly. He had witch vibes.
“Hiya welcome to the”, she took a deep breath in, “Hazbin Hotel! I am Charlie! This is Alastor! What did you do to bring you to hell? Gotta know so we can cater your redemption activities to your sins!”
She was staring at you so happily, pen over paper. Your eyes nervously shot to the man, who leaned down in response.
“I fell asleep driving and killed someone, and myself.”
Everything about Charlie was frozen still except the sudden glossiness forming over her eyes. “You… you… were you like, a thief or… did you…… push old ladies into traffic?”
You shook your head no.
“Gluttonous? She asked.
“No, I wasn’t a fan of overindulgence.”
“Prideful, then?” 
“Unfortunately… I don’t think too highly of myself. Living or dead.” Your hand came to your down turned rabbit ears, sad and limp. Even in death you weren’t the right kind of anything.
“Uhh,” Charlie clicked her pen furiously again and again, “Lustful?”
“Just the one partner. My highschool sweetheart.”
A sweat was forming on Charlie’s brow, “Sloth?”
“I did fall asleep behind the wheel… but it was from working 25 hours of overtime this week.”
Charlie put the pen down, “I don’t think you belong in hell. You made an accident. That’s not how sins should work…”
Your eyes bore holes into the desk, avoiding eye contact, “I don’t think heaven cares much about that.”
“Poor thing. Let’s circle back, Charlie.” Alastor’s large hand rested on your head, patting twice. 
She nodded, “Good call. I’ll just,” her tongue stuck out as she began to write, “make a new category just for you! Other.”
Yeah that made sense, you thought. That was fitting. This truly was hell. Finally you stood out, as the one who didn’t fit in. You supposed that’s what a wallflower deserved for murder. 
“Follow me little one.”  The tall Alastor instructed you as he snatched a key from the hook and walked past you.
Happily. Small tail uncontrollably swishing as you followed a foot behind him.
A hum of approval, Alastor noticing the distance you kept.
“You obey instructions well.”
You always did. “Thank you.” Tiny and soft, your response made his shadow shift and smile.
It wasn’t a compliment, but the fact you took it as one interested him. Subservient. 
Fun. 
“I take it that you really were a good girl in life, weren’t you?” He swiveled on his heels to face you, the sudden change causing your face to run into his lower chest.
A song of apologies fell from your mouth as you backed up, tripping over your own pathetic attempts at platitude and falling back onto your ass.
He was tall before but now he towered over your, hand outstretched to help you up. You offered a thank you before taking it.
Clawed fingers tightened around your palm. Not letting you pull away. “You’re new to hell, right?”
A glance around, no one else in the hallway, “Is it obvious?”
“Yes. But also, you mentioned work this week.”
A nod, “It’s been maybe a day.”
Delicious.
“Could I offer you some advice?” He leaned down, hand tightening further. Wide eyed and a little frightened with the change in atmosphere, you just nodded again. “It’s very dangerous out there for little prey animals like yourself.”
“Aren’t you also a prey animal?”
His hand uncurled.
A moment of tension, Alastor leaning down further.
A strange sound was coming from his microphone, the best approximation you had was a car radio going haywire skipping through the channels.
“Room 243!” His body popped up and he held the key out for you. The hallway lights seemed to be glowing brighter now.
You grabbed the key, “Thank you!”
Two fourty three was just past him. A small tremble kept you from getting the key in on your first and even second try. 
You didn’t even stop to turn on the light, just pushing the door closed behind you as soon as your body was through the threshold.
The relief barely left with a sigh when you heard it, “You know…”
Frozen, your eyes adjusted to the darkness enough to see the shining of his red and pink eyes in front of you.
“I’m somewhat of a deal maker. For a small price, I could help you. Perhaps, you’d like a change of appearance?” His voice seemed to be coming from the walls, above and beside you all at once.
Something lifted a floppy ear. But his eyes were too far from you for it to have been his own hands. A small scream as you smacked at the appendage.
“What do you say? I can use a little magic to make you happier with your new form.” A dark whisper into your right ear. 
Your hands flew to your head before you dropped to your knees to escape the hidden things touching you. 
“What do you want?” To your left now. “Let’s make a trade. A deal.” Above your head. 
His eyes were gone. Just darkness and a soft laugh echoing around you.
Your mind was reeling through possible answers, what did you want? At that moment? In general? 
An answer tumbled out, too quietly.
“Hmm?” His eyes reappeared closer to you and glowing a bloody red. “Speak up, my ears are quite a bit higher than your mouth.”
A second attempt, “Safety. I wanna be safe.” The laughter got louder, mocking you without words.
“A little tougher of an ask.” The sound of something slithering near your feet made you pull your knees tighter to your chest. “But! I’m here to please. In exchange for protection from the more nefarious of hell’s citizens I’ll need something worth my while.”
Of course, that is how deals work, right? A promise with compensation. 
“I don’t have any money, or possessions yet. Maybe I should try again later?” You were lost in the light of his stare and found the darkness deepening around him.
A considered hum, “Well, you’re already dead. You’ve no need for your soul. Damned as it is, give it to me instead. To keep safe. And I’ll always answer your calls for rescue when in harm's way.”
Why would…what use was a soul, you wondered. Was he right? But if he wanted it, surely it had value. You were too new to this world, scared to say yes and part with what little you had. 
At the risk of angering the demon in the darkness of your room, you whispered to yourself and hoped he would hear it, “I think I shouldn’t.”
Hissing in your ear, “Disappointing.”
The lights flickered on, an empty room. A bed. A nightstand. A closet. A bathroom. No tall smiling dealmaker.
A tremor stayed in your hands through the night. 
To your surprise, when you ran into Alastor the next day he was more than kind. He was eavesdropping when you asked Charlie if the hotel needed any staff. Not only did you want to be of use, you were hoping to earn some money. He quickly slid beside Charlie suggesting things you could do. 
Wow, you thought. He didn’t hold a grudge at all. Maybe he had been trying to help before? 
It took a few weeks, but you found a groove. You were a floater between the staff, helping Husk with the restocking of his bar, following behind Niffty with supplies her tiny arms couldn’t carry, and keeping notes for the activities Charlie held. It was vital for you to feel needed and everyone seemed happy to have you around. Hell wasn’t so bad.
“Dear,” Alastor found you holding a basket of towels in the hallway on a rather standard weekday, “I need an errand runner. Do you mind?”
You had been finding Alastor’s presence enjoyable, a little secret you held. He was always smiling, which made you smile in turn. And his manners, well, perfect. You couldn’t understand why such a sweet man was in hell, but then you considered you were also in hell. Mistakes happen, perhaps he was also damned by technicalities. 
Not that you would ask him, you barely spoke a word to the deer demon. Every time he was around you your throat would close up. Oftentimes you would pull your hands behind your back to shield the wiggle of your too-honest tail. 
When he would speak to you, you would get so focused on the sound of his voice and watching his mouth move you’d actually not hear a damn thing he said. You must have looked like an absolute airhead, always replying, “What?” every time he finished a statement. 
“Hellooo, anyone home in there?” He knocked gently on your skull. Ah, those big hands again. He watched the pink bloom across your cheeks, your hands coming to your ears to pull them down as your mind wandered off.  A snap of his fingers finally brought you back.
“Sorry, what?” Your eyes were bright as you finally made the journey all the way up to his face.
“Welcome back. I need some stuff picked up from a shop downtown. I can’t leave right now, mind hopping over for me?” The grin he offered you made you melt.
“Of course!” That damn tail shaking behind you, “What am I picking up?”
He waved his hand, “Not important, it’ll be all wrapped up and waiting.” The radio effect of his voice grew, “I’ll write down the address.”
Terrible handwriting. You could barely read it, but didn’t want to insult him so you just nodded as he followed you to the doors. Pausing, you realized it was your first time leaving the hotel alone. 
“What’s wrong? Not up to it?”
You shook your head, “No! I can do it. Thank you.”
A pounding in your chest made you question if you were actually dead. But despite your concerns, no one bothered you beyond some catcalling and intense glares. Staring at the paper, you struggled to decipher the address. Was that a 7 or a 1? A 4 or a 9…? You were in the general area, the street name lined up and the first couple numbers of the address too.
You brought the paper closer to your face, maybe if you really inspected it you could figure it out. 
A shriek, dropping the paper to felt a small goblin-like creature pushing at your knees. Another, then another, began to appear from the shadows of the street. Black and white little creatures pushing and pulling at your legs until you tumbled over.
“Help!” You thought it was a shout, but it came out as a soft spoken request, the tone itself adding a ‘please’ to the end. 
They weren’t hurting you, just knocking you over every time you tried to stand up like grade school bullies. You managed, the creatures relenting momentarily before a stockier one materialized. A step back, what did they want? Money? You pulled out your wallet and opened it but the large one smacked it to the ground. 
That quick heart skipped a beat when your back hit against something solid. As your head bent backwards, you could see those red and pink eyes looming over you. 
“Oh dear. Trouble already?” 
You could cry. You did cry, a little, at the sight of a familiar face. With a flourish of his hands, those previously unseen tendrils whipped from his back and flung the aimless attackers away. 
Rescue! You hugged his waist, a chorus of ‘thank yous’ and ‘Oh, Alastor!’ into his chest. 
“Now now, can’t even be a proper task rabbit. You really do need some safeguarding.” He peeled you off him, brushing his coat off. Your mind thought back to the offer. “And I don’t see my purchase… didn’t complete the task either?”
You shrunk, you’d entirely failed him. His smirk was one sided, eyes half lidded and expression dramatically disappointed. Alastor sighed and turned to walk away from you. You’d let him down. He’d been nothing but accommodating and gentle.
“I’m sorry! Alastor!” You grabbed his wrist, eyes shut so you didn’t see the green glow of arcane symbols floating up around him. “Can I please have that deal? Please. I’m sorry, you have my soul as payment.”
Painless, selling your soul. With a handshake, a little light show, and a whirling of magic, you had done it.
“Excellent choice!” Alastor patted your head, “I’ll come to your aid when you’re scared for your life! Aaaand in return, your soul is mine. Easy peasy, yes?”
Fine, not an issue in the slightest. “Do I need to do anything?”
“About what?” His eyes wandered to inspect his fingernails.
“My soul.”
A barking laugh, “No. You’re tied to me now, dear. As for my end, just call my name when you’re in danger and I’ll,” a flourish of his talons, “rescue you.” His smile strained as he peered down at your little face, “Why are you crying?”
“I’m so happy to have the help, thank you Alastor! You really are just, amazing. Your mother raised you right.” Your hands were holding your cheeks, grateful and feeling a little less alone.
The mention of his mother made his back straighten, a bloom in his chest he knew all too well to be pride. Finally, someone was vocalizing his better qualities. Well, other than Charlie. But impressing Charlie was like making a dog think you’d thrown a ball. Just a little quick whirl of your hands and a couple sweet words with a smile and she’d be all wagging tail as she ran to retrieve nothing. 
But he supposed you were very much like Charlie, easily tricked and distracted. Had you really not noticed those goons were his? Or that the address wasn’t real? Were you stupid or naive? His head fell to the side unnaturally as he watched you talk. He wasn’t listening, though. He took in your features, slight but average. His hand came out absentmindedly and felt at one of your long and limp ears. He didn’t see you blush or caught how you stiffened. 
Naive. Terribly naive.
Perfectly usable. 
He dropped your ear and turned to leave. “I won’t rescue you twice in one day. Best to follow me home if you value your life.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You hadn’t told anyone about the deal, a secret for yourself to keep. Partly because you were embarrassed you needed the help, and partly because you had been warned extensively to not make a deal with the deer demon. Everyone had such a peculiar idea of Alastor, it seemed to you. Even after making a deal, he was still…Alastor. Always offering a joke, or playing something jaunty in the shared spaces. You could vent and whine and Alastor would hum as he read. Always offering a gentle pat to the head when you were sad or did something he liked. 
So when Alastor suddenly left the group in a sweat, hands shaking and body rocking slightly side to side, you were quick to follow behind him. He bumped off the walls a couple of times before making it to his room and falling forward past the threshold. 
You waited for the door to close before running down the hall and knocking. 
���Are you alright?” You pressed your cheek against the wood and listened for any reply. 
Alastor was still on the floor when you knocked, which worked out well. He leaned against the door, ears flat with his condition. He took a deep breath, voice dropping an octave and carrying easily to you, “Just— an out of season rut. Unexpected and unwelcome. Without any does nearby it’s quite odd.”
“Oh, are deer not like rabbits? Rabbit does are always in estrus! Mating actually triggers their ovulation. Neat, huh?” Silence, Alastor’s ears turned forward focusing on every other word.
Does, always, oestrus
Mating, triggers, ovulation 
“I had pet rabbits when I was little. Isn’t that funny though? That they’re also called does.” You worried he thought you were weirdly interested in rabbit sex. “We had them as pets. So….,” a silence you misinterpreted as awkward.
Alastor tapped a long claw on the door before dragging it down the wood. A line was etched behind, “Is that so?”
You knelt down to get comfortable, “How long will it last?”
“Ah, hard to say. I've only suffered through a few. Alone, perhaps a week.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“With an appropriate partner, a deer demon would rut for two days. One for mating with his doe, one for guarding his doe from rivals who could still interfere with conception.”
His doe. You both found your throat running dry at the words. 
You nodded, “Oh wow, I guess that’s why you always see bucks locked together in fights.”
“Precisely.”
“But...can sinners actually conceive?” You gulped, the idea was a little naughty to you. The entire conversation was actually making you uncomfortable. The kind of discomfort that made your breath pick up. The kind of discomfort that shifted to hunger with just a few words or a well placed look.
“No, but that doesn’t matter. Once fully in the hold of a rut or heat, demons aren’t motivated by logic.”
You nodded again, forgetting he couldn’t see you. “Oh okay…” the idea of Alastor rutting into his own hand desperate to fill a womb made your knees come together. “Must be hard for you. As an asexual.”
A hum, confusion breaking his creeping fog for a second, “A sexual what?”
“Nevermind.” You shook your head, shaking off the topic with the motion.
Alastor could smell your arousal wafting under the door. A feverish chill ran through him, drawing the fog back into the recesses of his mind.
“Well… I’ll let you rest. I know you can’t call me, so I’ll stop by to see if you need anything.”
His mouth opened to correct you— he could call you in a sense, and he didn’t need help as he had minions he could summon with a snap. 
“That sounds lovely, what a helpful thing you are.” The words came out strained, his jaw tensing. How much longer could he hold out? The thinnest lie held in place that he’d suffer alone through the week. Already compromised by his errant shadow, flat against the carpet beneath your thighs. 
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Within hours Alastor was lying on the floor with his limbs splayed out. The sweating was the worst, not the heat. He could feel ticklish drops dripping down his stomach. His hair was sticking to his face, adding to the mounting overstimulation. Wet, hot, clothes clinging to his body like a second skin. A clawed hand pulled off his bow tie. His fingers shook too much to handle the tiny buttons of his shirt so he gave up and ripped it open. 
It fell into a pile with the bow tie and soon his pants and socks joined. Sitting up on his elbows he looked down at his underwear, he wasn’t hard yet but he knew the smallest touch could trigger what could be days of painfully swollen erections.
He fell back to the floor with a huff, hands raking through his hair and gripping his ears a little rougher than he’d meant to. A gasp, red tipped talons feeling down his ears and slipping around his already growing antlers.
Alastor’s eyes rolled back, strong hands squeezing his prongs, tugging them forward as he imagined anyone riding him. Using his appendages as a handle while he bucked up into them. His hips were already moving, lower back rising off the carpet as he rolled his body up into the imaginary mate he despised his desperation for. His mind flicked through faces. Husk’s pained but satisfied expression, Vox’s tears as he whined, Carmilla’s lusty eyes paired with surrendered sighs. He lingered briefly on Angel’s smirk as his hands roamed down his chest and his thighs in tandem. 
But through the darkness of his imagination he saw two watery and timid orbs, tears welling as eyebrows rose in confusion. Pleasure making the features soften. Soft. Soft velvet ears he could tug on in turn, a little bushy tail he could grip. 
A doe. 
The only doe he knew of in the hotel. 
The radio on the writing desk flipped through channels, piecing together the sounds to form the words he was trying to forget, a magazine ransom note cut from sound bites.
....out the windows
 ....always and forever, 
....in yesterday. 
....rusty cage 
May you never....
Hating how I....
....pull the trigger
....say you love me?
....congratulations 
The relevant sounds spiked in volume, mocking him. 
He walked to the radio and hurled it across the room. Aggression. Already he was losing himself to hellish biology. 
A minor part of him didn’t want to use you. You always looked at him with such adoration, which he’d come to look forward to when others weren’t giving him adequate attention. You also seemed to genuinely see him as a friend, as much as he didn’t directly feed that idea.
But using people was how the world worked. Everyone was using someone. You had said how much you wanted to help… Alastor leaned on the desk with both hands and watched the sweat fall onto the wood and leather writing surface.
How was his body leaking from every pore but his mouth was so dry?
His shadow reached for the thrown radio, the light flickering on. That dark doppelgänger using a song to offer another piece of torment for him, ‘you ain't never caught a rabbit and you ain't no friend of mine.’
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
You had been speaking to Husk about what you could do to help prepare the bar for the weekend when a green light began to form around your neck. 
“Did you— Did you make a deal with him?!” Husk dropped the dish rag, hands shooting to your shoulders, “Hold on! I’ll— fucking hell. Fuck!”
“Wait what’s wro-,” you were standing inside an unfamiliar room, just at the door, before you could figure out why Husk was panicking. Looking up, you locked eyes with Alastor. The room was dark, curtains drawn shut and ceiling lights off. A slight glow from a roaring blue fire to your left. His eyes were those familiar glowing red orbs in the darkness of his large canopy bed. “Oh, Alastor.” You finally noticed the third light source. A neon green large linked chain was wrapped around his fist. Following the squared interlocking pieces down the length of the bed, across the carpet and up as you looked down to find it ending on you.
Your hands touched your neck, feeling the cold metal of your collar. 
Alastor took a deep breath in, a shaky exhale following.
Oh. You’d heard from Angel how his deal with his boss often materialized as a series of smoke rings linked and attached to him. 
Before you could question it any further you were sliding across the floor, hands and feet struggling to find purchase as he reeled you toward the bed. Alastor lifted you by the glowing chain around your neck, evidence of the deal you so easily accepted.
“Can a deer breed a rabbit?” He mused, breath ragged as he struggled to remain in control of his impulses, “Doubtful. But I’ll give it my sincerest efforts, regardless.”
“Alastor-! You don’t want to do this, it’s just your rut.” You pulled back, legs kicking and piling up the blankets. It was fruitless. 
He laughed, incorporeal radio studio audience joining along. You couldn’t stop from glancing at the straining fabric of his black boxers. Setting a small hand on his chest to better attempt to push away you gasped, “You’re burning up!” The fear of the moment left you entirely, replaced with deep concern. 
He gripped your wrist with his free hand, not letting go of the chain in his right, “The fever is unbearable. My mind is slipping away.”
“Is this normal?!” Your hands came to his cheeks, his forehead, his neck. You remembered how your grandmother always checked your temperature, and pressed your lips to his sweat slicked brow. “You poor thing…”
When you pulled back you were met with the bright and blown out pupils of Alastor’s gaze. He was staring at your mouth, the green of his magical connection to you reflecting off his glossy eyes.
“Poor me.” He’d been sitting with loosely crossed legs but got on his knees. His face rose until he was looking down at you, hand now holding your chin, “You promised to help me.”
Your eyes were looking everywhere but his face. 
His hand on you tightened, cheeks squished together as he pulled your head up, “Are you a liar?” Of course not. His hand made your head shake left to right.
The trembling of your hands was obvious to you both. A cruel laugh, “Do I scare you, little bunny rabbit?”
In life you weren’t popular. No one hated you, but, well, you never had much luck attracting the men all the women seemed to want. No one of power or consequence ever paid you any mind.
Alastor was scary. But were you scared? Someone strong wanted you. Someone people feared was saying you were good enough for them.
Tears welled in your eyes as you felt your tail wiggling side to side. Your body always betrayed you. Your own death had been the doing of your body’s inability to listen to you. 
He couldn’t see the tail but the way your face screwed up in shame tipped him off. Letting go of your face, super heated finger pads slipped down your back. He slotted your tail between two fingers. There was no reason for it to be such an intimate action, but your entire body trembled.
Another deep sigh from Alastor, closing his fingers around the base and pulling gently. A test. Your head dropped to hide your reaction.
“Ah ah, eyes on me.”
He hummed happily as you did as you were told.
But the moment was cut short, you jumping when a rough knock came to the door.
“Alastor!” Vaggie was turning the knob despite knowing it was locked, “Is she in there? Open the fucking door.�� A kick, a threat, “Now.”
“I’ll need your answer.” He leaned back onto the pillows piled behind him. Making a point, he lifted your chain and dropped it. It dissolved into nothingness before it could hit the bed.
“I’m here!” You said barely loud enough to be heard through the wooden door. Your eyes were drawn to Alastor’s lap as he pushed down his underwear to free his deep red cock.
His hand tenderly touched his base, hissing with the contact.
“For fuck’s sake Alastor!” Vaggie yelled, “You have three seconds to open this fucking door before I rip it off the hinges.”
Alastor’s head fell back with a moan, stifled as he bit down on his lip. 
“One!”
As his fingers slid up his length and touched his leaking slit his entire body violently shook.
“Two!”
He opened his eyes just barely. You hadn’t noticed the antlers on his head were quite a few times larger than normal. 
“I’m okay!” You shouted, the loudest noise you’d made since your death, but not the loudest you’d make by the end of the day.
Silence.
Mumbling.
 Vaggie spoke up again, “Are you sure? Come out and talk to us first.”
His hand began stroking himself, precum spilling down. Something soft and fuzzy was settling over the front of your brain.
You scooted backwards off the bed, eyes staying on his lap. The light color of his inner thighs. The little bit of red and black tail you could see squished down under his ass.
“Hello!” You opened the door just enough to shove your head through. “Hi there gang.”
Husk’s arms were crossed and his foot tapping, “Are you really okay? No matter the deal he can’t fucking make you stay in there with him.”
While you weren’t sure that was actually true, it wasn’t an issue, “I wanna stay! He needs someone to watch his fever and-,”
A brief rush of cool air up your shirt before a hot mouth was pressing into the small of your back.
Vaggie’s eyes narrows, “and?”
“And! And. Yes.” Your eyes shut, “and take care of cleaning up after him.”
They shared a glance, “He can just make his little creatures do it.”
A surprisingly long tongue ran up your spine.
“Oh my god.”
“What?”
“Oh my god! No! I couldn’t let my friend,” you sucked your bottom lip in as his hands wrapped around your waist and undid the button of your pants, “rely on strangers.”
Husk sighed, “Alright, just… like, call us or something? If you need anything.”
You began to nod but the door was shut and locked by Alastor before you could reply.
₊✧˚﹕︶︶︶﹕૮₍ ⸝⸝´ ꒳ `⸝⸝ ₎ა﹕︶︶︶﹕ ˚✧₊
Your face hit the wall as you lost balance when he pulled down your pants and panties with one yank and buried his face into your crotch. His tongue licked at the wetness pooled at your entrance.
Any moans would probably still have been heard by the other two so you tried to keep quiet. Alastor didn’t seem to care though, growling into your skin.
The fever seemed it would spread skin to skin, but when he pulled away you found your body quickly cooling. Taking a moment to breath before turning back, you wondered if you’d made a great decision or a terrible one. When you turned, Alastor was settling back into his previous spot. “I could rip the rest off of you or you could undress yourself.” He wasn’t looking at you as he said it. You made quick work of removing your shirt and returning to the bed as you had before.
"Turn around."
You turned to face the door.
"On your hands and knees."
You paused briefly, but did so.
As you bent over, little tail high and trembling, Alastor’s clawed thumbs spread open your bottom lips. Perhaps it was embarrassment or just the nerves but you were twitching open and close.
You heard a low “Fuck” before the feeling of heat dripping onto you made you jerk forward. One of his hands came to your shoulder to hold you in place, the other kept your hole open as his seed continued to dribble down onto it.
He hadn’t been trying to cum, but his body was already responding to the opportunity before it; a breedable and submissive doe.  His cock trigger-happy at the sight of your pussy, inside pink and clenching.
A tiny yelp as he fell over you, joining you in an all fours position but larger body caging yours between his limbs. He laughed again when the back of your head hit him square in the chest. 
“You are uselessly small.” His body rumbled over you. “Clever girl to make a deal for protection.” 
A burning stiffness slid down your folds. You could feel from even how little contact he made he was too big. Was it a bad time to tell him you’d only had the one partner on earth? A rather boring but sufficient sex life. If Alastor was hoping for a sex kitten he’d be deeply disappointed in you.
He hummed imagining dropping his weight and feeling you fruitlessly squirm under him. 
“Mating triggers ovulation, I recall you said. I just need to fuck you into it, right sweetheart? Maybe if I do a good enough job,” his hands gripped the flesh of your ass, “your body will actually respond. Your belly will swell with the evidence of my virility.” Both hands slipped down your hips and came to nestle above your womb, tenderly caressing the protective layer of fat there, “could your little form handle it?” Little form? Not quite. But to him everyone was little. Claws leaving faint red marks as he dragged them up your ribs, around your sides and pressed your back down to get your chest into the bed and ass in the air.
A squeak, your legs flailing with what little motion they had as you turned your head, “Well that’s for actual rabbits not--.”
His hand came over your mouth, “Shhh, there's safety in the quiet. Don’t you know? We’re most vulnerable when we mate.” On the utterance of the word you’d been avoiding to even think about Alastor’s still hard cock squeezed its way into you. Your body was willing, but your pussy wasn’t ready to accommodate him. Not that your living partner had been small, but he wasn’t a seven foot tall rutting deer demon. And with height came a girth and length you’d not anticipated. You had seen it, yes, but that didn’t translate to much once Alastor was entering you.
His hips were snapping back as soon as he sank in. It frustrated him endlessly that he wasn’t trying to fuck you with such a lack of control. He couldn’t have been sure he’d have done it any differently had the circumstances been changed, but he liked to think he’d  retained some skills over the long years alone.
The way he whined made him sound like a weak man, which he was in that moment. You wanted to call out his name, do the things you were used to doing during sex, but his hand was still over your mouth.
As if he heard your thoughts, his fingers spread open over your lips. Pinky under your chin to keep his hold on you. 
“Alastor,” the tenor of your voice surprised you.
“Stick out your tongue.” He sounded far away, despite being right behind you. When you did as he instructed his hand shifted. Two long fingers went into your mouth and pressed down on your tongue. Immediately his fingers and your chin was dripping with drool. He whined again, louder, the noise growing into a growl as his speed began to pick up. 
You could feel the thin flesh at the bottom of your entrance stinging as it was failing to stretch enough for him. It would have bothered you more but the way his burningly hot cock's head was pressing into your cervix was making your eyes lose focus. 
Without ceremony, you felt a rush of heat deep in you. Your shins lifted from the bed as you squirmed, weak attempts to escape the deep press.
His hand left your mouth and you felt it working on the base of his cock that was not yet in you. He mumbled something, it sounded like an apology, before you felt him pop the rest of himself in. You choked on your scream, not knowing what he had put in you. 
It throbbed, new and stronger spurts of his seed felt against an indescribable place. 
A brave hand reached between your thighs and felt at the space between your bodies—- well, would have felt at that space. But there was none. You were flush against his lap. Your fingers slid down to feel taut balls pulled up into his body. 
He shivered as you traced between them, checking neither were …  inside you. 
“I should have warned you, but my ability to speak wasn’t—,” he waved his hand around, “available.” You tried to pull away but found you both were locked together. “A knot. Not an accurate representation of a deer… and technically useless.”
That word meant nothing to you. “Is it normal?”
His thumb pressed at the virgin tight ring of muscle just above your pussy, you instinctively jerked away but just made yourself gasp as that large knot in you threatened to further tear you if you kept it up. “I don’t normally do it so early in a mated rut.”
You surrendered, trying to relax your upper body into the bed. “How do we get it out?”
A mocking chuckle, “It’ll deflate, so to speak, in a couple minutes. It’s just keeping my little doe in place while I finish filling her up.” He patted your ass. 
It was mortifying to be suck in that position.
“Have you ever used this hole?” He rubbed some of your wetness up to your asshole. 
 Your tail lifted, “My boyfriend didn’t like anal.”
Alastor massaged around the puckered ring, “I didn’t ask if he used his.” Your head turned to look at him, shaking it ‘no’. You noticed his face looked less strained now, and that his finger didn’t feel like a fire was just under his skin. “Ah, well. I won’t need it today anyway.”
He didn’t see the bright blush that came over your face. He spoke so easily about the topic, a topic you’d never heard him speak on before. One you’d been told he had no interest in.
An error you made, assuming a lack of interest meant a lack of knowledge or experience. 
When he finally could pull himself out of you, you felt a rush of warmth down your inner thighs. Looking under you, past your chest and between your legs, you saw the thick white semen escaping from your stretched entrance. 
You’d never seen such an opaque release before. You wondered if it was a hint at his…potency. You wondered more what was happening in your body at that moment. 
“Will it come out on its own or do I need to clean it?” Finally sitting up, your fingers felt the mess still dripping out of you. 
Alastor leaned back onto his legs, ears turning in your direction as you asked, “Is this your first time? Your little boyfriend never finished in you?”
Crossing your arms, you turned to him, “Don’t be patronizing to him. And no, okay?”
He felt the heat rising from his gut again, cock twitching at every bit of the scene before him. Insolent body language, an attempt to scold him, and an admission. You watched him sit back up, a sudden reminder how much taller he was as darkened eyes looked down on you. The blue of the fire cast half of his face in shadows. “What’s this? My obedient doe wants to defend another man in my bed?” 
Your hands nervously came to the ends of your ears, “I didn’t mean it like that.” A finger twirled, telling you to turn around. You hesitated. Did he want you to leave? He didn’t want to look at you? You hadn’t—, “I’m sorry.” 
With a blink, his eyes were black.  His fingers longer as parts of him seems to stretch between the joints. He twirled them again as his smile grew wicked.
Desperate to show him you hadn’t wanted to upset him, that you wanted to stay, you turned around. The fear of not knowing what he would do next was sending waves of electricity to your lap. You realized you hadn’t touched yourself yet, not that this was the time to start. 
One by one, those freakishly long fingers curled around the small of your waist and lifted you off the bed. The tops of your feet were sliding across the dark maroon blankets beneath you both.
Your heart was pounding in your ears as he pulled you against him. He positioned you above his renewed erection, your legs opening a little in instinct. 
Grateful now to be turned around, you let your face run the full range of feelings as they washed over you. Fear, arousal, anticipation.
“What a wasteful man.” He brought you down with a painfully slow speed, head just now meeting your sticky wet hole. “He never flooded your soft cunt?” He pressed in a little easier this time, but as you sank to take him all in you felt a sting where you’d slightly torn earlier. “When he dies, I’ll be sure to find him.” Cruel. “And make him watch me breed you.” You clenched, yet another betrayal by your body. 
You were reduced to gasps as he stayed stock still and moved you on and off his cock. “Am I bigger than he is?” You could feel his breath against your back as you were lifted and brought back down again slowly. 
You nodded. A terrible liar, you didn’t even try to fib.
He stopped with his head barely in you.
A squirm.
“I’m sure I just didn’t hear you. Try again.”
“Yes.” You were full again as he got his answer. A creaking sound you didn’t recognize startled you.
“Do I fuck you better than him?”
Ah you understood. Your hands held at his fingers digging into your body. “Yes.” Another creaking sound as he quickened your rise and fall.
Alastor’s antlers were wide and multi-pronged as your affirmations jostled around behind his eyes. Your ‘yes’ somehow made you tighter, wetter, hotter around him. His hips started moving again to meet yours. Perhaps he his dick grown a little during his shift to a more demonic form, or maybe you enjoyed the line of questions. All he knew was you were squeezing him like your body didn’t want him to ever pull out again.
Blood dripped from his lips as he cut his own skin, through gritted teeth a final question, “Do you want my fawns?”
Your legs pressed together, you knew there was only one answer and yet you asked yourself. Did you want that? To carry his children? A moan cut through your thinking, “Yes!”
The fire roared, a response to his own reaction.
Alastor felt his mind slip under again, noticing the wild way his shadow was dancing around the walls before his senses all dulled except touch.
The bed drifted away from under his knees and the walls melted like spent candles. Just sounds echoing off space as your moans deepened. As if learning, you began to whisper ‘yes’ to yourself as you felt a building pressure in your stomach. 
Every thrust into you further separated your brain from your body. Your eyes lost focus as you watched the door bounce. No, wait, you were bouncing, right? Bouncing up and down the stiff rail of Alastor’s arousal. Your head fell forward, gasping as you felt him harden further while buried deep in you. He was going to cum again, you could feel it, you would feel it. The thought made your body shake as a pressure grew steadily in you. 
Not a new sensation, but a different one. 
“Louder,” another thinly veiled demand from Alastor that seemed to come from somewhere else entirely. Your eyes noticed a small light on the floor near the wall. A radio, buzzing with the same crackle as his voice.
“Yes,” you ground out, his hands were slippery with sweat as his nails dug in to ensure he didn’t lose his grip on you. “Yes, yes, yes.” He brought you down entirely and only let you off a little, an unspoken fear he would release too close to your entrance and he’d lose precious seed he needed your body to receive. “Yes! Alastor!” You weren’t sure who was talking now, as it surely couldn’t be you. You’d never —
“You’re better than him. You’re bigger and stronger and and he never —- he could never…”
He was suddenly regretting the position, unable to watch you fall apart as he so lovingly spread you open. 
With a shriek, your back crashed into his chest as Alastor fell backward into his pillows. He didn’t miss a beat. He continued fucking up into you but let one hand reach your clit. When you whined, he breathed into your hair, “I need you to orgasm.” Other hand pressing down on your womb, “Many cultures believed a woman couldn’t get pregnant without finding her release first. Surely it’ll take. Cum for me my doe.”
You shook your head, “Alastor that isn’t possible.” Not that you were arguing against the way his finger was rubbing up and down on your swollen clit, you just felt the need to remind him of the obvious. Your eyes wandered up and back to see the hauntingly wide antlers now. His transformed face barely visible in the shadows.
“I thought you were a good girl.” His mouth kissed at the base of your ears, hand over your womb pressing in and exaggerating the feeling of his cock bulging from under your skin. “Darling,” he groaned, “Are you ready for my knot?”
You moaned at the words. No, of course not. 
“Yes,” you got quiet, embarrassed again. Your hand snaked up and behind to hold his shoulder for stability. 
“Relax,” he hissed, feeling your body tensing in anticipation.
You tried your best, but between his strumming finger and the sting still at your entrance you struggled to let things go limp.
This time you felt it growing beneath you. Alastor was ready as well, pushing it in before it was swollen so large he’d have to force it or just suffer with it outside.
Lubricated with the multiple loads already fucked into and then out of you, the knot pushed past your entrance with ease. But then you felt it expanding in you. Eyes crossing as they rolled back with the foreign sensation. It didn’t hurt, but a little alarm was going off in the back of your brain. How could something natural feel so unnatural? And how—
Your body locked up, muscles from thighs to neck tight. Alastor’s finger hadn’t stopped, and as the second knotted release flooded you with his feverish need, as his knot trapped every drop and forced it up past your cervix you tripped into your first orgasm. Different from your own hand and toys, the build up hadn’t been a slow ratcheting climb. No, you were rolling through waves of nearly pained pleasure. The spasming forced your body to feel him even more, pulling him deeper, triggering another wave to crash into you.
Alastor wanted to praise you, a rush of hormones and ego expanding his chest but the sensations had him so overwhelmed he was manually breathing. His hand didn’t want to stop, because then the way your pussy was positively sucking him in would also end. But your little cries and moans got increasingly choked and strained.
The calm briefly offered by knotting a mate during his rut came to your rescue, Alastor dragging a still barely moving finger up your body and going slack into the pillows.
Deep breaths, both of you fighting to slow them down. Alastor was experiencing another moment of clarity, only slightly upset he had doled out so much tenderness.
But for you, there was no deep fog of a heat to numb the sensations and let the more bothersome bits of consciousness turn off. Your mind was just as clear as normal. A little lusty, but nowhere near Alastor’s altered state. As you laid against his chest, waiting for him to be able to pull out, you could feel the pains and aches setting in.
Alastor summoned a minion, food set down on his desk under a silver cloche. Your eyes caught the black and white creature before it was whisked away.
Sitting up, you flinched but fought against the pain, “Alastor. What was that?”
His hands pulled you back down by the shoulders, skin on skin, “My minion. One of many.” 
 Exhausted, you could only sigh, “So, the errand.”
His hands went up defensively, “Oh come now, did you really think I was the good guy?” You didn’t reply. The silence began to bother him. Odd, given he usually didn’t give a fuck.
But he’d asked a lot of you, and you agreed willingly. You did as you were told. A little twinge of concern he had actually upset you wiggled between his ribs.
His hands slipped down your waist and settled over your stomach, “…Are you hungry? If you stay like this, I can help you eat.” You took a deep breath in, but didn’t even move to look at him. He squirmed ever so slightly, “I can only assume you’re… quite sore. Perhaps a bath? But I can’t guarantee we’ll make it out much cleaner than we are now.” His smile was smaller, just lips; no teeth. As his antlers withdrew and his limbs all returned to their proper places he could turn his head enough to look at your face.
Alastor felt relief wash over him to see you deeply asleep in his arms. It wasn’t a bad idea, to sleep before the next spell hit him and he was too far gone to think about baths or meals.
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
Alastor awoke in the dark. He found his hands and ankles tied behind his back, his body naked and sweating. He was on fire, pieces of himself lifting in the hot breeze and blowing away. He could feel his body fragmenting. You were just a little ways away and he tried desperately to reach out to you but as his eyes adjusted you were suddenly too far. If he could just get you to take a single piece of him, a shard of himself, he would live still. Even when the rest of him was dead and gone, he’d be alive in your hands. A raging stress, the fire now reaching his bones. It wasn’t too late. He still had time. Just a sliver of his existence was all he needed to get to you.
When you woke up, your body was at the foot of the bed. Looking over you saw Alastor lazily stroking his painfully hard erection. His gaze downcast, vision cloudy with unmet needs.
“Alastor?” With shaky arms you lifted yourself. You were hot. Was it the fire? No, before it had no heat. A little damp outline into the comforter formed where your body had been. 
“You’re awake.” He reached over and grabbed your ankle, pulling you towards him and rolling you onto your back. Hand still around your ankle, he pulled your leg against his chest.
“Alastor.”
He sunk into you without hesitation, hips rolling into you roughly. Your body was rocking against the bed, wood creaking against wood with the steady force of his thrusts.
It felt good. Better than before, your walls felt soft and puffy around him. Alastor’s head was low, groaning every time he bottomed out. You could see just enough past him to watch the bed canopy swaying above you both before he folded you in half and leaned fully over you.
His eyes were unfocused like his mind, staring into the bed. A large palm at either side of your head, his back curved as he angled his hips to reach deeper yet.
“I’m so hot.” You were struggling to get the words out. It felt so good, the deeper in you he reached the more you seemed to be melting away.
Your hips were lifted off the mattress, held up entirely by his cock as he continued to rut into you. He could feel the fever in you rising. 
Bent and tangled together, his head was nearly above yours. He was sweating, hair stuck down and ears folded back. A bead fell from his cheek and hit your forehead. He was working so hard. Such a strong man. A strong buck. 
Something in you snapped. Something twisted and burned in your belly. You brought the other leg up to let yourself be folded in half completely, and his eyes wandered to your face. Your frontal cortex was just static as the lights were shutting off in most parts of your more human faculties. 
Everything got quiet in you, a deep seated feeling of security creeping up your legs and sinking into your bones. With Alastor in you, nothing bad could happen to you. If you were carrying his offspring you’d be guaranteed a new level of protection. You needed it. You wouldn’t survive if you weren’t fucked and bred by the overlord. 
How could your body be wrong when the feeling was so natural? So intensely confident?
“Alastor!” Your nails dug into biceps, hands clamoring up his arms to cling onto him, “breed me, please.” 
He was caught alight, mind on ablaze with his raging fever. Your plea was a magnifying glass concentrating the sun into him and sparking a wildlife. Alastor was defenseless against the way your words affected him. 
He could feel it, he could smell it, your heat triggered finally. His lips caught yours as his hands slipped up the blanket with how he had to contort to reach your mouth. You moaned into him, teeth on teeth as neither of you had any ability to finesse things.
“On your knees,” he instructed. You scrambled to turn around as he briefly left your body. A desperate whine in the seconds that stretched on, the emptiness unbearable. It hurt to have him anywhere but balls deep in you.
His hands slipped around your tail that still tried to swish side to side. When he tugged you gasped, the closest sensation you had was having your hair pulled. Chills ran up your spine. You nearly fell forward, but a strong hand wrapped around your neck and pulled your head back. He lined up, adjusting his legs wider to get down to your level.
“Are you feeling it?” He nipped at your shoulder, “Your heat?”
You pushed your ass back and pressed his tip into you. The sound that tore through your chest was answer enough for him as you tried your best to move along his length all on your own.
“You’re okay,” he squeezed lightly around your neck, pussy twitching around him as lightning snapped through you. “I’ll take care of you.”
Words that made your head spin. His body on yours felt like security. Everywhere his skin touched yours was a gulp of cold water in a drought.
A cliche, as he began to move again and his cock hit your g-spot every couple thrusts, you couldn’t tell where you ended and he began. His fever was matched to yours, no heat exchanged as warm and wet flesh moved around warm and wet flesh. Was that your hand or his on your stomach? Both were searing, both soft and slick. One of your hands was reaching down to hold his arm for support.
Eyes slipping shut, you imagined this was what being high felt like. You were out of your body entirely, feeling his dick slipping in and out of you from a different plane of existence. There was a sense your mouth was moving but no awareness of what you were saying. Truly just babbling as Alastor’s speed hitched. A clawed hand on your hip cut into you as he pressed deeper with every thrust.
He guided you down onto your stomach, hand now resting on your right shoulder to keep you in place. You were entirely flat, his knees parting your legs so he could get flush against your core. 
His knot was in place as he began to swell. You felt it again, him flooding your womb as he released directly into your twitching cervix. A euphoria filled you so totally you were sure you could feel the cells of your body humming.
Like a cool breeze had blown down, your fevers broke nearly immediately.
“Oh,” you squeaked, Alastor’s hand releasing you as he lied on top of you. The weight of him was oddly arousing as it gave a clear comparison of your smaller size. “I think you’re right. Estrus.”
He nodded, rolling you both onto your sides, “Would you like the good news or bad news first?”
Resting your head on his extended arm, you tried getting comfortable despite the sticky feeling of your skin and the burning in your thighs, “bad news.”
“You won’t be walking straight for days.” He said it with a heavy tone of pride.
“Oh geez…,” you could feel his knot still throbbing between your hips, “The good news?”
“Your heat is going to make me even more desperate to fill you,” his free hand ran down your sides and slipped between your legs to feel where you two were connected. 
You turned your head the best you could, “That’s not good news, Alastor!”
He laughed, “I lied. Oh well!”
While the good news had been a lie, the way your body’s shift into meeting Alastor’s instincts upped his feral responses was not.  You nibbled on fruit and bread and cured meats in the small windows the clouds around your humanity parted.
But when they’d roll back in, a tempest of feral wants crashing into you both, you’d find yourself clinging to the deer demon.
You could have had an apple in one hand and be mid bite when his musk would reach you and your grip would loosen. With just a moan and a lifting of your hips Alastor would be dragging you closer, crawling over your body, mounting you wherever you two happened to be.
It wasn’t that you’d become confident by the end of the day, but that you’d lost all semblance of shame and embarrassment.
When Alastor pulled you onto his lap and placed your hands on his peach fuzz covered antlers, you didn’t need verbal instructions. It took all of your arm span to reach them, so you held tightly as he thrust up into you. None of his noises had been as intoxicating as the ones he made when you were leaning over him and squeezing his prongs with every jostle of your womb. Perhaps he’d lost his shame too, loud and long moans the other residents had to have heard spilling from his open mouth. 
The wet slap of your ass coming back down onto his thighs as he bounced you was barely registered. Head hung low to meet his black engulfed eyes, you didn’t notice his smile was gone for the first time since you’d met him. Pinhole red pupils were locked on your face and imperceptibly roamed around your lust filled expression. 
One hand reached up and rubbed the soft skin of your downturn rabbit’s ears between his thumb and index finger. Soft. Velvet. 
A sensation that was wholly pleasant, not sexual in any nature but feeding the comfort provided by Alastor’s cock buried to the hilt. He wanted to enjoy the smile it gave you but he could feel his orgasm climbing exponentially.
There it was again, the darkness of your combined heat and rut slinking in. Body to body, your own sounds harmonizing with his and losing distinction. “Alastor–,” eyes drifting shut, “Please. I feel empty.” His previous loads dripping down your thighs, then down his own, and soaking into the carpet. “Fill me up. Please, can you breed me?”
His hand pulled down on your ear, “That was never in question.”
You let go of his extended prongs, arching your back to take a kiss. More. His tongue in your mouth, another hole full of Alastor. His hands both reunited on your ass and used the flesh there like handles. He fucked up into you, withholding the growing at his base, until he felt you cumming around him again. As your body sucked him in with rolling spasms, he pressed you down on his upthrust. A pained moan as it was pushed in a little late. 
Lightning behind your eyelids, your mouths hanging open and pressed together. 
Both of you a pile on the floor, a cold blue flame and soft music playing from the still broken radio. Uncharacteristically, Alastor’s arms wrapped around your smaller form and clung to you. The sensations were popping up one by one. Sticky skin, sweat rolling down your face, hair sticking to your neck and forehead. You’d have to peel each other apart. Which you did, eventually. When Alastor could pull out, he followed through on the bath he’d been thinking about. 
You protested, reminding him you’d be soaking the floor with displaced bath water as soon as the next urge to mate came around. But he laughed, smile back in place as if it had never left, “Sweetheart if I do my job right you won’t even realize you’re not in bed until you’re knotted and knocked up.”
︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶
He hadn’t been lying about the protective second day. But what he hadn’t anticipated was just how long that aggressive desire to keep others at a distance from you would last. While your deal had been in place for a little while before his rut, it wasn’t until after your time together in his room that it seemed to ever be used. 
But you didn’t need to call out for him, like he had said. No, anytime someone even looked at you with a nasty thought, you were graced with his presence. Most people figured it out quickly enough, but occasionally new and brave idiots would approach you with trouble. 
So when a tall and imposing creature cornered you in a shop, hand holding something sharp and shiny and asked, “Scared, little hare?", you could only smile as your face was lit up by a green glow and offer a little advice, “No, but you should be.”
deleted scene ˗ˏˋ Masterlist ˎˊ˗
˖  ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖
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gigabyte-flare · 4 months ago
Text
At Your Service
[A Gigabyte Flare One Shot]
Summary: You are the daughter of a wealthy family in New Eridu. Lycaon has been your loyal butler since you first moved out from your childhood home. You're about to find out just how far Lycaon is going to go to prove his devotion to you.
Word Count: 4.8k
Pairing: Von Lycaon x fem!reader (afab)
Disclaimer: This story is a work of fiction. Actions depicted in this story are not condoned in real life. You are responsible for your own content consumption. If any of the following warnings trigger you, please read at your own risk. Minors do not interact, this story is 18+ only.
Warnings: Mild Yandere, implied r@cisim (not by reader or Lycaon), domestic violence (not by Lycaon), attempted SA (not by Lycaon), graphic violence, dubcon, oral (f receiving), pet names, playful biting, unprotected p in v, knotting, breeding kink, creampie
A/N: Just when I thought Jiyan from Wuthering Waves had me in a chokehold (he still does), Hoyo literally said "hold my beer." Does being down bad for Von Lycaon make me a furry? Probably. Do I care? Nope. He's hot and I can't get enough of him.
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"As you can see, we had record profits this month. The campaign with the promoters definitely made a huge difference in our profit margin--"
You can't help but let out a loud sigh, resting the side of your face in the palm of you hand as your elbow keeps your head up as you stare into the webcam at your office computer. This is your last meeting of the day, heck, of the week. Unfortunately with the finance department of your family's business: a publishing company for video games and video tapes. Given how popular consumable media is in New Eridu, the business had taken off, you and your family now set for life. This also meant that your parents expected you to take over once they retire; you were still struggling to come to terms with that fact.
"-- that concludes this week's financial overview, I hope everyone has a good weekend!"
You waste no time turning off your webcam and shutting down your work computer. You couldn't get out of the office building fast enough. Getting into your car, you make the drive home to just beyond Sixth Street.
You live in one of the larger homes on the outskirts of New Eridu thanks to the success of your family's company. You park your car, getting out and approaching your front door. Before you even have a chance to dig your keys out of your pocket to unlock the door, your front door opens and you are greeted by your tall, imposing wolf Thiren butler: Von Lycaon of Victoria Housekeeping.
"Welcome home, my lady. I already have dinner started. I trust your day went well?"
"Hey Lycaon… it was alright," you reply as you step through the doorway, Lycaon stepping aside to let you through, "what's for dinner?"
You feel his deft clawed fingers help you take off your jacket before walking it over to the entryway closet to hang it up, his steel mechanical legs echoing in the entryway as he walks.
He answers you while hanging up your jacket, "roasted chicken with mashed potatoes and broccoli, my liege."
You chuckle, "you've been here for years, yet I still cannot get used to you addressing me like someone who's important."
Lycaon turns slightly just as he was about to shut the closet door, his red eye scrutinizing you, "but you are important, my lady."
You feel your cheeks tingle at his response, but quickly shake your head to compose yourself, "Do you… need any help with dinner?"
"I do not require any help. Not that I would trouble you with such trivial matters," he replies, walking away from the closet to head back into the kitchen.
"If you insist…" you hesitate; even after all this time, you're not accustom to having someone else doing all the house work, "I'll be in the living room watching TV. Come get me when dinner is ready, alright?"
Turning to you once more, Lycaon gives you a nod and a subtle smirk before walking into the kitchen. You don't realize your eyes are lingering on him as he walks away; watching the intricate parts on his prosthetic legs move as he walks, the way his right arm his bent behind him, his fist clenched, the way his large bushy tail wags gently as he--
You blink a few times, once again shaking your head and bringing your hand to your forehead.
Fucking hell, girl, get a hold of yourself. He's your freaking butler.
You turn and walk into the living room, collapsing onto the couch. Leaning forward, you grab the remote off of the coffee table and turn the TV on, mindlessly scrolling through the channels before settling on some talk show. You don't focus on the show, instead, you pull out your phone and check your notifications. You notice you have a Knock Knock message from someone, so you open the notification bubble to check it.
"Hey! It's Steve, are we still on for dinner tomorrow?"
"Oh… that's right… I'm supposed to have dinner with that guy Mom hooked me up with…" you say to yourself, rolling your eyes before you type out your response.
"Yeah. Did you still want to pick me up from my house?"
You see the typing ellipses pop up a few times before his response comes through, "if you're comfortable with that, yeah!"
Normally, you would never let some strange man pick you up from your house to go on some blind date, but you know for a fact Lycaon wouldn't let anything happen to you; those mechanical prosthetic legs weren't just for show. You've witnessed first hand the damage they can do a handful of times in the years you've known him.
"My lady," you hear Lycaon call to you from the threshold of the living room, startling you from your thoughts, "my apologies, I didn't mean to scare you."
"No, no… it's fine. I'm guessing dinner is ready?" you reply, turning around to face him while still seated on the couch.
"Indeed. Would you like to eat in the dining room or here, my lady?" he asks as he straightens his posture.
"We can eat in here. Come watch TV with me Lycaon, I insist." you reply, waving him into the living room.
"As you wish, my lady, I shall plate dinner and bring it in here, one moment."
You watch as he gracefully turns around, walking out, the metallic rattle of his legs echoing as he returns to the kitchen. He returns promptly with two plates of food and utensils. He hands you your plate first before taking his own and sitting in a nearby chair. He crosses his legs, his large tail then settling onto his lap as be began to eat his meal. You waste no time digging in; you absolutely loved Lycaon's cooking and tonight was no exception. You're so focused on your meal that you almost miss your phone vibrating in your pocket. You pull it out, seeing another Knock Knock notification.
"I take it you don't want me to pick you up at your house…?"
"Oh shit…" you curse to yourself, having forgotten to respond to Steve.
You quickly text him to that it's fine and send him your address before gently setting your phone onto the coffee table.
"What was that all about, my lady?" Lycaon asks, as perceptive as ever, even while eating dinner.
"Oh nothing," you say, tucking your legs up onto the couch as you continue to eat dinner, "I'm just making plans with someone to go to dinner tomorrow night. I forgot to text him back."
"I see, should I plan to make dinner just for myself then?"
"No, set aside a plate for me… just incase the plan falls through…"
"As you wish, my lady."
The two of you continue to eat dinner in silence, your gaze unconsciously wandering over to him, lingering on his mechanical prosthetics before moving to the mask he wears on his face, which covers one of his crimson eyes. You've always wondered what had happened to him, but Lycaon never talks about himself and you didn't want to pry into something that is probably really painful for him.
Sensing your gaze on him, he clears his throat before speaking, "Is everything alright, my lady?"
"Oh--! Sorry, I was just zoning out…" you quickly retort before returning your attention to your meal.
Once the two of you are finished with your meal, you switch channels and watch the latest episode of Starlight Knights while Lycaon gets absorbed in a book. Exhaustion sinks its teeth into you suddenly and you fall asleep on the couch. Noticing this, Lycaon sets his book aside, standing up and scooping you into his arms before carefully carrying you to bed upstairs, his tail wagging gently the whole way there.
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The next morning, you are pulled from your sleep by the smell of bacon. Your eyes slowly open and you stretch your arms out over your head, letting out a loud yawn as you do so. You glance over at the clock; it's nearly 10:00 in the morning. You're shocked Lycaon had let you sleep in this long. Upon setting your arms down in front of you, you come into contact with a breakfast tray. The food on it is still hot, Lycaon must have just brought it in. He made your favorite: waffles with fresh berries, syrup and bacon. You can't help but smile as you grab the nearby fork and dig in.
As you're eating, you suddenly realize you don't recall getting into bed last night, you were still wearing the outfit you had on yesterday. Lycaon must have carried you to bed… again. That's been happening more and more frequently, you feel terrible that he felt obligated to carry you to bed. Still, you feel a warmth in your chest thinking about him taking care of you; you guess that's only natural given he's been your butler for so long.
Your parents had insisted on hiring someone from Victoria Housekeeping when you decided to move out after buying a house, mainly for protection. Being the daughter of a prominent publishing giant came with its risks as you soon learned. As unnecessary as you found it at first, you were very grateful for Lycaon's protection and companionship. Even so, you were hesitant to admit you've caught feelings for the enigmatic butler; could anyone blame you though? Von Lycaon was legendary in both his services and his physical prowess; hence why your family hired him specifically. Only the best for their daughter.
Despite your complicated feelings for Lycaon, your mother insisted on playing match maker. This latest man she picked out is the first one you've entertained going on a date with, mainly to shut your mother up. You honestly had no desire to date anyone; you have everything you could possibly need right now, even with how you feel about your butler.
The rest of the day is uneventful and before you know it, the sun is setting, casting orange rays into your windows. Lycaon is in the kitchen doing up dishes when he hears a loud knock on the door. He stops, his gaze shifting to the front door as whoever is out there continues to knock. Letting out a low growl, he takes his hands out of the dishwater, drying them off before putting his fingerless gloves back on. Tucking one of his arms behind him, he approaches the front door, opening it. He is greeted by short human male, his brown hair greasy and slicked back with a red goatee that is haphazardly trimmed and rectangle glasses. The man's eyes widen upon seeing Lycaon, who is glaring down at him with a furrowed brow. The man tries to speak, but finds himself at a loss for words.
"What business do you have with my Master?" Lycaon asks, his tone dark, his threatening gaze unwavering.
"I… uh… I'm here to pick up… uh…" the male stammers, checking something on his phone.
"It's fine, Lycaon! I'm expecting him, his name is Steve!" Lycaon hears you call from within the house.
Upon hearing you come down the stairs from your bedroom, Lycaon turns to look at you as you approach the front door. You suddenly stop in your tracks upon seeing the man at the front door, your eyes wide.
He looks nothing like the photos your mother sent of him.
Sensing your unease, Lycaon goes to you, giving you a reassuring pat on your shoulder as he shifts to stand behind you, standing tall and puffing his pectoral muscles outward; almost as if he's asserting his dominance. You banish the thought; that'd be ridiculous, he's your butler for crying out loud!
"Is this the person you mentioned you were going to dinner with, my lady?" Lycaon asks, his crimson gaze still locked on Steve.
You nod, swallowing hard as you struggle to get your anxiety under control. Your mother probably sent an outdated picture. Everything will be fine.
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It wasn't fine. Steve took you to some dimly lit dive in Lumina Square; you didn't even think a place this dingy could exist. You are not a vain person, but this place is absolutely abhorrent. Steve was rambling on and on about god knows what, you stopped listening awhile ago; wishing desperately to be home where a beautifully cooked meal would be waiting for you. You're glad that you had Lycaon make a plate for you.
"-- so, what's with the Thiren living with you?" Steve asks, ripping you from your thoughts.
Realizing he's asking about Lycaon, you sit up straight, setting your hands onto the table, "he's my butler, why?"
Steve scoffs, giving you a sly smirk, "he's awfully jacked to be just a butler. I've never seen a Thiren built like that."
"He is able to protect me if needed, if that's what you're getting at," you reply, not even bothering to hide the annoyance in your voice.
"You won't need him anymore," Steve says, that stupid smirk still on his face as he leans forward, resting his chin on one of his hands as he rests his elbow on the table.
You lean back, crossing your arms, "and why is that?"
"Because you have me now."
The silence that follows after Steve's statement could have been cut with a knife. You discreetly pull out your phone, opening the Knock Knock app and send a single message to Lycaon.
"Lumina Square please come."
"I don't recall telling you that we're dating," you finally break the silence as you look up at Steve, your heart pounding in your chest as your anxiety heightens.
"You didn't have to, you let me take you to dinner. It's clear you're now my girlfriend," Steve says, gazing at you like you're a slab of meat, "and I want you to get rid of that butler. I don't need some disgusting Thiren third wheeling us."
He's one of those people. Fucking great.
"Lycaon isn't going anywhere, thank you very much," you reply as you suddenly stand up from the table, making your way to the entrance of the restaurant, "this date is over."
Steve stands up, rushing over to you and grabbing you by the wrist, pulling you to him, "you're not going anywhere, sweetheart!"
The small handful of people in the restaurant just stare at the two of you as you struggle against Steve's grasp; no one makes a move to help you.
"Let go of me you greasy asshole!" you yell, spitting in his face.
Steve scowls, wiping your spit from his face before slapping you across the face. You cry out when his hand makes contact, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. One of Steve's hands grasps your back side, squeezing so hard that you know for certain it's going to bruise later. The other hand grabs your chin, forcing your head so it's facing his and he tries to kiss you.
The front door of the restaurant suddenly gets kicked in and you feel a familiar chill in the air. You don't need to look to know that your loyal butler has arrived.
"Get your filthy hands off my Master," Lycaon growls, his heavy steps quickly advancing.
Steve sucks in a breath, his eyes widening as he lets go of you, shoving you away. You can see that he's trembling, frozen in place. You notice a wet spot on his pants, right between his legs.
Oh my god… he's pissed himself.
You stifle a laugh at this realization as you watch Lycaon approach him. The individual parts on his mechanical legs popping out and coating in ice, cooling the air around him. You pick up the chatter around you.
"Isn't that the owner of Victoria Housekeeping?!"
"Yeah, that's Von Lycaon!"
"I wouldn't want to be that guy right now…"
Steve stumbles backwards as Lycaon stalks towards him, his posture confident and his right arm tucked behind him.
"Dude I'm sorry! I was desperate ok?! It won't happen again!"
"You're right," Lycaon growls, his eye shifting up at Steve, his gaze like a crimson dagger, "it won't."
Within a blink of an eye, Lycaon rushes forward, punching him in the gut. Steve hunches over, a splatter of blood coming out of his mouth. Lycaon brings up one of his legs, kneeing Steve in the face before bringing his other leg around to give him a roundhouse kick. You cry out along with the other patrons as Steve is hurled into the back of the restaurant, crashing against the wall so hard, it leaves a large indent in the wall where Steve's body made contact before crashing to the floor. For a moment, Steve doesn't move and you start to fear that Lycaon might have killed him; that is until Steve starts groaning, staggering while standing up.
"You… You hit like a bitch…" Steve groans, wiping the blood coming from his mouth.
You spot a subtle smirk form on Lycaon's lips as he walks towards Steve, ice once again gathering on his mechanical legs, several different parts starting to glow. He stands in front of Steve once more, who is now laughing nervously.
"Say that again, cretin. To my face."
Not so tough now that Lycaon is inches in front of him, Steve remains silent, his legs wobbling as he fights to keep himself standing up. You watch Steve swallow hard, seemingly building up his courage.
"You hit like a bi--"
If you had blinked, you would have missed Lycaon kicking straight upwards, causing Steve's head to violently snap backwards, an audible crack reverberating in the restaurant. Steve drops to the floor like a sack of potatoes. Lycaon takes a moment to brush himself off before turning around and walking up to you.
"Don't worry, my lady, he's not dead," he says, as if reading your mind as he gently takes your arm to lead you outside, "let's get you home."
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The first thing Lycaon had done once the two of you had gotten home was start the shower for you. You have no idea how much time has passed since you stepped inside, letting the hot water fall on you as you silently cry. You should have listened to your gut when you realized Steve looked nothing like the photo your mother had sent you. That is the last time you let your mother play match maker. You felt awful that Lycaon had to basically come rescue you. There's no doubt your father is going to catch wind about what happened, especially considering the amount of damage Lycaon had caused in the restaurant.
You'll worry about that later. Right now, all you wanted to do was get cleaned up and go to sleep. You turn the shower off, pushing the shower curtain aside to step out, but you stop yourself. You find one of your bathrobes folded neatly on the counter next to the sink, but that's not all. A single red rose is placed on top of the folded robe. You carefully step out of the shower, approach the bathroom counter, gingerly pick up the rose and twirl it in your fingers slowly; the rose having been meticulously de-thorned.
Lycaon…?
Another spot of red in the corner of your eye catches your attention. Turning to look, you see that there is a trail of red rose petals on the floor that leads out of the bathroom. You take the robe and put it on, wrapping it around your nude body and tying it before you follow the trail of rose petals. Upon opening the bathroom door, you are once again stunned, too frozen in shock to move. The rose petals lead straight to your bed, the plush white comforter not only covered in petals, but with whole roses like the one you found in the bathroom; there's at least twenty of them, if not more.
You hesitantly walk towards your bed, your heart pounding in your chest. Did Lycaon do this? He must have, who else would have, you're the only two people in the house. But why? What does this mean? Your breaths are heavy, causing your chest to heave as you look down at your bed. You place your hand over your heart in an attempt to calm yourself. Surely, he's just trying to cheer you up after your horrific date. That must be it.
"My lady."
You suck in a breath at the sound of Lycaon's voice, slowly turning around to face him. Standing in the doorway, you immediately notice he's not wearing his signature vest, but just the white button up shirt he typically wears beneath the vest, the sleeves still rolled up to his elbows along with his black pants. The shirt is unbuttoned halfway, a tuft of fur spilling from his shirt. You feel your mouth hang slightly agape as your eyes run up and down Lycaon's form.
"If I had known you were going on a date with that… filth, I wouldn't have let you go."
He slowly approaches you, the sultry look in his eye erasing any doubts of his intentions; the sound of his mechanical legs walking across the floor echoing in your head as he approaches. You unconsciously take a step back away from him, the back of your legs hitting the foot of the bed.
"My liege," he whispers, the backs of his fingers gently caressing the side of your face, "there is no need to be alarmed. Unlike that disgusting drivel, I would never hurt you."
His fingers gently dance across your jaw line, moving downwards until he reaches your throat. You swallow hard as his fingers gingerly wrap around your neck, "that is unless… you want me to hurt you."
You watch his eye darken, a mischievous smirk forming on his lips as his fingers delicately squeeze the pulse points on your neck.
"Lycaon we… we shouldn't do this. If my father finds out--"
"To hell with your father," he growls, stepping closer to you, "I've seen how you look at me, my lady; the way your eyes linger on me when you think I'm not looking."
His hand moves from your throat, sliding down to rest onto your chest, right over your racing heart, "I know you want this as much as I do."
Your head is spinning, being pushed and pulled between all your complicated feelings. You do want this. As much as you want this, he's your butler under your family's employ, you know it's wrong. You hesitantly shake your head.
Lycaon lets out a low chuckle, leaning down to whisper in your ear, "I can smell your arousal, my lady. You should know more than anyone that you can't fool me."
Wrapping one of his arms around your waist, he tenderly coaxes you to lay back onto the bed, his muzzle buried into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent as he cages you with his body. His hands grasp onto your thighs, gingerly spreading your legs apart so he can settle himself between them. You can feel him grazing his teeth along the side of your neck, to your jawline until his lips linger just in front of yours.
With a deep breath, you finally give in to your desires, kissing him deeply as your hands run up his chest. Your fingers find the buttons on his shirt and begin to unbutton them, his shirt falling open once you undo the last button. As your hands massage his chest, you can feel the toned muscle under his soft fur. Letting out a groan, Lycaon deepens your kiss, slipping his tongue into your mouth to dance with yours.
You feel like the kiss lasts an eternity and let out a soft whimper when he breaks the kiss. He lets out a low chuckle as he leans down, kissing your collar bone as he unties your robe, pushing off you. Once your body is exposed, he trails kisses between your breasts, over your stomach until you can feel his warm breath over your folds.
"From this moment on, I will be the only man touching you," he states, his gaze locked on yours has he runs his tongue through your folds before continuing, "if a man so much as breathes on you, I will snap him in half like a twig."
Between his ministrations on your cunt and his words, you're completely overwhelmed by pleasure, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you lay your head against the mattress; your pussy walls fluttering around nothing. You hear another low chuckle from Lycaon.
"Oh? Do you like that, my liege? Do you like it when I protect you?" he asks with a playful tone.
He doesn't allow you to answer, however, because he immediately seals his lips around your throbbing clit, gingerly taking it between his teeth and caressing it with his tongue, reveling in the sound of the loud moans coming from you as he does so. You dig your heels into the bed as your hands grip the sheets. Your legs trembling, a strained cry comes out of you as you finally come undone on his tongue. Lycaon eagerly laps up your release.
"My lady, you're as succulent as the sweetest fruit," he says softly, licking your release from his lips as he begins to climb back on top of you.
He hooks both of his arms under your thighs, draping your legs onto his shoulders as he looms above you. Staring down at you longingly, he begins undoing the belt on his pants with one hand. Your eyes widen when he pulls out his member. It's massive, easily the biggest you've ever laid eyes on. You can't help but also notice the large knot at the base, causing your heart to flutter.
Is he going to fit?!
Leaning back on his haunches, he spits on your pussy, using his fingers to massage his saliva into your folds before leaning back on top of you. You can feel his cock prod at your entrance, causing your heart to race in anxiety and anticipation.
"Tell me if it's too much, ok?" he whispers as he moves his hips forward.
You nod, sucking in a breath as you feel him penetrate you, his girth filling you up perfectly. As he begins to thrust, you watch his tail begin to wag back and forth, teasing a smile from you. His lips once again lock with yours, kissing you deeply as he fucks you with steady and even thrusts. Moaning softly into his kiss, you run your hands up his chest, then up the sides of his neck before settling on each side of his face, your hips moving in time with his.
He feels absolutely heavenly inside you, your walls squeezing his cock as it bullies its way deeper and deeper. He abruptly stops and pulls out, flipping you onto your stomach before lining his member back up with your throbbing cunt.
"I'm going to breed this beautiful pussy." he says, sheathing himself back inside you up to his knot, "fill you up with all my pups. Would you like that, my liege?"
He begins to thrust again, more aggressively this time. Each thrust forcing his knot into you, stretching you. You nod weakly as more moans spill out of you and before long, his knot is finally fully inside, creating a seal. It's a little painful at first, but that is quickly replaced by the intense pleasure coursing through your body as he pounds into you. Letting out a growl, he bites into your shoulder as his thrusts become sporadic.
You cry out is name, tears stinging the corners of your eyes as you claw the sheets with your fingers, your second orgasm barreling towards you. With one final thrust, he pushes himself as deep inside you as he can possibly go without hurting you, shooting his load straight into your womb, painting your insides white with his seed. Your whole body is trembling from your release, your walls squeezing him as his cock continues to throb inside you.
You feel Lycaon's tongue lap where he had bit into your shoulder before nuzzling your cheek with his, his powerful arms wrapping around you, "are you alight, my lady?"
You turn to him, kissing him on the cheek unable to get the huge smile off your face, "more than alight, Lycaon."
"Good. That's what I like to hear."
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iluvmattsbeard · 7 months ago
Text
Wet Dreamz (m.s)
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master list
matt sturniolo x reader
warnings: smut and swearing
preview: matt and you were partners for a project. he unexpectedly started having sinful dreams about you, suddenly craving you ever since. one thing nobody knew; he was a virgin.
“y/n, you will be partnered with Matt.” the teacher says trying to grab your attention. “y/n? are you listening?” you snap out of your thoughts and look at him. “huh?” you ask. “you’re partnered with Matt for this project.” he replies with an unamused look. you look around before you look back at him. “who’s that?” you ask.
he lets out a sigh before speaking, “Matt raise your hand.” you look around again as you catch the eyes of a brown haired boy. you weren’t mad about it. he looked decent.
you get up and walk to where he was sitting. “next time y/n, i expect you to be paying attention. this project will effect your grade drastically if you do poorly.” you hear the teacher say looking at you. all you do is nod. you were barely passing the class.
Matt’s POV
i got paired with y/n. she didn’t even know who i was. i knew of her because she would get in trouble constantly due to her lack of focus. as she came to sit next to me, we clicked right away. we both dreaded school, but who doesn’t? as much as i didn’t like school, i still paid attention, unlike her, so i had to explain the whole point of the project to her.
we exchanged numbers after class so that we could talk about when we could meet up to work on it. we only had two weeks to complete it. i knew i had to stand on top of it because i know she won’t.
a few days pass, me and y/n still working on the project together, with us having to meet at lunch. i got to know a little bit more about her. she was pretty cool to talk to. we even started texting without talking about the project itself. so when this is done, it’d be cool to hang with her.
meeting during lunch really wasn’t a good idea. there was too much distractions. so i took the opportunity to invite her over to my place after school. she agreed and i ended up driving her with me once the final bell rang.
End of Matt’s POV
you and Matt were in his room as you sat on the floor. you were reading over some information from the website the teacher recommended and you were feeling overwhelmed. “all of this is hurting my head.” you say laying back on the floor. Matt lets out a small laugh as he responds, “me too. i don’t get how this will be beneficial in the future.” you shot up looking at him, “exactly! school is so bullshit to me. they don’t even teach real world shit.” you say sighing. “i agree. but i didn’t put up with almost 12 years of school just to fail.” he says. you groan, “right. it would be wasteful. i’m pretty sure you don’t have anything to worry about. my grades are literally on the edge of failing.” “well, i could help you.” he suggests. all you do is let out a laugh, “trust me, teaching me is hard.”
“i’ve been teaching you these past days. trust me i know.” Matt responds as you both let out a laugh. “it’s hot in here.” you say taking off your hoodie, pulling down your shirt as it lifted a bit. Matt looks at you as he catches a glimpse of your cleavage. he looks away quickly, clearing his throat. where has all of that been hiding? he wonders. “well let’s continue working on this.” he says trying to move past it. all you do is nod as you lay on your stomach continuously reading.
when you weren’t paying attention, Matt would stare at you slightly. he would stare at the way your tits were pressed against the floor, thinking how perfect they were.
after a few hours, Matt takes you home. “thank you for the ride.” you say smiling, slinging your backpack on one shoulder. “yeah of course” he replies. you open the door stepping out, but as you get up, your hoodie raises slightly revealing your thong peeking out above your jeans slightly. Matt catches a glimpse turning red. you shut the door and walk away. he sits there in his car for a bit as he gulps before driving away.
Matt arrives home tidying his room before going to bed. he picks up one of his notebooks as he sees a sticky note on it reading, ‘thank you for dealing with me as a partner - Y/N’.
he smiles at the note as he puts it down on his bed side table, getting into bed. as he lays there, he couldn’t help but think about what his eyes caught from you earlier. your cleavage and your thong. he couldn’t stop thinking about it. “Matt stop that.” he whispers to himself before shutting his eyes going to sleep.
Matt’s dream POV
you and Matt were sitting on your bed working on the project. Matt wasn’t paying attention to you as much and you were bothered by it. you took matters into your hands and you closed the book he was studying. you got on top of him, sitting on his lap as he gets caught off guard. you pull him into a passionate kiss and next thing you knew, you were under the covers tangled together naked.
End of Matt’s dream
Matt’s POV
i woke up sitting up quickly with my breathing uneven. what was that?! my heart was racing. did i just have a wet dream?!
i pulled up the covers to see a wet stain on top of the crotch of my sweats. what the fuck. this has never happened before. with y/n?! why? because of what i saw yesterday? i never even had sex before. how could i have easily dreamed of it? i gulp before getting up. i head to the bathroom to clean myself. i really can’t believe that just happened. now all i could do is replay it in my head. i groan at the thought.
after i got ready, i headed straight to school. on the drive there, i still couldn’t stop replaying everything that happened in my dream. even if i tried to distract myself, it wouldn’t go away. i needed it bad.
End of Matt’s POV
you and Matt were in class as you tried to tell him a story. all he was doing was nodding and staying quiet. “Matt? are you okay?” you question. he shakes his head before speaking, “yeah- yeah i’m good. sorry.” you give him a questionable look as you reply, “well you weren’t really paying attention as i spoke.” you laugh a bit. “oh i was.” he says with a nervous smile. “yeah okay.” you say turning your body straight, pretending to pay attention to the teacher.
Matt does the same as he groans quietly to himself. he didn’t know if he should tell you or not about what he imagined. he decided to shrug it off.
it was the end of the day again as you both end up at Matt’s house. you were standing up as you rehearsed your lines on what to say for the presentation. Matt just sat there looking lost. “Matt seriously what is wrong? i can’t do this without you, you know?” you say frustrated. “i’m sorry. i’ve just been having a hard time.” he responds scratching the back of his neck. “well we really need to focus on this. if you need to get something off your chest, do it now so we can continue.” you say. Matt hesitates before speaking, “okay well i sort of had an odd dream last night.” you look at him confused. “okay?” you reply. “it wasn’t a normal dream.” he continues.
“what? were you like having sex or something?” you ask jokingly with a laugh. but he just sits there staying silent with a blank face. “oh. oh! you did!” you exclaim. “who was it about?” asking with curiosity. “some random girl from class.” he says lying through his teeth. “so what’s the big deal?” you ask. “this your first time having a wet dream?” all he does is nod. you widen your eyes, “really? that’s new. i would’ve thought you were like every other guy constantly thinking about sex.” letting out a laugh. “why is it bothering you so much?”
“because, it’s weird. especially with this specific girl.” he responds. you raise an eyebrow before asking a question, “have you ever had sex before?” the question takes Matt by surprise as he responds quickly, “of course i have!” he lies. you let out a laugh. “okay! sorry! well then you shouldn’t be so weirded out. now come on. lets focus.” replying to him.
it still was eating him in the inside.
·:*¨༺ ♱✮♱ ༻¨*:·
after the weeks flew by, you and Matt got an ‘A’ for your presentation. you decided to celebrate by treating Matt with fast food. you both sat on his bed eating. “thank you for being such a good partner.” you say with a smile taking a bite from your burger. “no, thank you.” he replies. you couldn’t help but notice he still was acting strange these past days. “Matt don’t tell me you’re still on about the sex dream.” you ask wiping your hands with a napkin. “you should just shoot your shot already since it’s eating you up. maybe she’ll feel the same.” he shakes his head, “i wouldn’t know how to approach her. plus, that’s weird. i had a sex dream about her and what? i just walk up to her and tell her that? that's creepy.” he replies. you laugh at his response. “well not quite but, i don’t like how you’re acting so off.” you say taking another bite.
Matt sighs as he shakes his head, “just forget it y/n. i’m fine.” you stop in your place as you shake your head. “okay that’s it.” placing the unfinished food on his side table. you wipe your mouth with a napkin as you look at him. it was silent for a bit until you spoke up, “do you want to kiss me?” you blurt out. Matt’s eyes widen. “what?” he asks.
Matt’s POV
i hesitated for a bit. “to help distract you.” she says with a small laugh. "uh- uh yeah sure." I say hesitantly. i mean i couldn’t pass up on the opportunity. i scoot closer to her. i’ve only ever kissed one other person and i don’t think it was good so maybe this will be different. i can hear my heart pounding out of my chest. i put my hand on her cheek as i lean in and kiss her softly. she scoots closer without breaking the kiss, putting her hands on my shoulders.
to her she might think this is just a distraction but, little did she know my dream was about her. we continue to kiss as she swings her leg around to straddle me. i put my hands on her waist as the kisses get heavier. i could feel myself get hard beneath her and i could tell she notices. i pull away from embarrassment, “i’m so sorry.” i say. all she does is smile and respond with, “it’s okay.” pulling me into another kiss. i could feel her start to grind against my clothed dick. i let out a small groan from the feeling. i pull away as i lay her down gently. “d-do you want to do this?” i say nervously but, i couldn’t expose the fact this would be my first. she nods as she kisses me again. she takes off my shirt as i do the same for her. i unbutton my jeans and pull them off leaving me in my boxers as she does the same with her pants leaving her in her under garments. i gulp looking at her body. come on Matt play it cool. we kiss again as she rubs my dick through my boxers. i really hope i’m big enough.
i reach into my drawer as i pull out a condom. i bought a box just in case i were to lose it. which i am now, so it was good preparation. i open rip off the deal as i look at her. “uh.. i haven’t done this in a while so.. i might not be as good.” i warn her lying. i’ve never done this at all. i had to prepare her just in case i cum quick. “it’ll be good” she reassures me. she takes the condom from my hand as i take off my boxers slowly. i see her eyes widen a bit as she slowly wraps the condom on my dick. i lay her back down, sliding her panties to the side, and align myself at her entrance. she gives me a smile as i look down at what i’m about to do. i push myself into her slowly as i watch her relax.
i hear her moan softly as i continue to push my full length into her. “shit.” i groan quietly. i watch her face as i start to thrust slowly. she shut her eyes as she bites her lip softly. i can’t believe this is happening. my dream finally coming true. i pick up the pace as i put both my hands on her sides. “yes just like that.” she moans out putting her hands on my chest. i kiss her as i continue to go deeper into her keeping my fast tempo.
“fuck Matt you feel so good.” she moans. every time she spoke i felt my dick twitch. her moans were heavenly. “you’re so perfect.” i whisper to her. i lay myself on her slightly as she scratches my back. her scratches were hard as i feel the slight sting.
all my worries disappear once i find out i’m actually doing a good job. she made me feel a bit more confident. as soon as i was about to cum i pull out because i wanted to keep pleasing her. i pull her by her thighs as i put my head in between her legs. i start licking at her folds softly as she lets out a breath. i then start sliding my tongue up and down, swirling my tongue on her clit. i felt her grip my hair lightly. “oh Matt.” she moans. “you taste so good.” i say continuing to eat her out. “Matt i’m going to cum.” she says as i start to suck on her clit. she throws her head back as she arches her back, shoving her pussy more into my face. “yes Matt just like that!” she screams out as she cums all over my mouth.
i get back up as i lick my lips, realigning myself as i thrust back into her sensitive core. she gasps as she grips onto my arms. i thrust at a fast pace before cumming inside her into the condom. “oh fuck.” i moan out.
we were both catching our breath as i pull out of her. i take off the condom and throw it in the trash. "you must be a pro or something. that was incredible.” she says sitting up putting her clothes on.
good to know. little did she know, i ain't ever did this before.
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a/n: not my best work lol. likes and reblogs are highly appreciated! thank you :)
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