#the car’s in reverse—i’m gripping the wheel

[ofmermaidstories]

i just finished borrasca oh my Godd OH MY GOD!!!! IT WAS SOO GOOD MERMS IM SO SPEECHLESS RN ITS CRAZY. normally im a yapper about anything and everything but like. all i can say is it was amazing and sigh contently LMAOOO the ending was just. glorious just like it’s titled. it was so good

a glorious footnote, indeed. 🥹 isn’t it so well done??? who ended up being your favourite character??? i really, really liked the idea (and in the end she was just an idea, wasn’t she? 🥺) of Whitney. but of the living cast I really loved sam. i even made like, a playlist for him LMAOO. doodled. 🥹 there’s just something so… haunting about being the heir to so much horror. being your father’s son. being your father’s. being apart of a man who wants to own everything he loves. oh sam. 😩 my beloved boy. 🫶🏽

[heartofasteria]

the death of my dog, the stretch of my skin

it’s all washin’ over me, i’m angry again

the things that i’ve lost here, the people i knew

they got me surrounded for a mile or two

[kisseobie]

car sex w/ piwon? them dropping you off to your house after hanging out at the dorms at night, and you start staring at their hands gripping the wheel for a bit long.. and things just develop (im a car girl don't blame me 🙏)

car sex with p1harmony

pairings: ot6 p1harmony x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni)

a/n: car sex is one of my biggest kinks so i’m def not judging girl :P oh also i’m dedicating this to my new bff @whimperly go support bella’s blog

listening to: diet pepsi by addison rae ♪

✶ keeho

kyo would look soooo delectable driving, especially late at night. you’re fighting sleep, the streetlights bright and hazy. he’s on aux, blasting sensual songs and humming along, reversing with his arm draped on your headrest for support, leaning his head back and driving with one hand. your window is down, your head peeking out slightly to bask in the cool air hitting your face, getting drunk on the feeling. you glance at your boyfriend and he catches it, smirking at you before turning his attention back to the road—but you can’t focus on anything but him. the air in the car is different now, you both already know where this is heading. when he eventually pulls into your driveway and halts the car, you’re wasting no time and pulling him into a needy kiss, whimpering out a crazed “i need you, kyo”, to which he just replies “bet” and gets to fucking work.

fucks you deep in the backseat of his fancy car, gives no care in the world for the mess you both are making, just wants to pound into your pussy until you’re whining out his name. the music is still on, ac on full blast, but it does nothing to prevent his sweat dripping onto your bare chest with every deep thrust of his practiced hips. after a few rounds of lovemaking i’d imagine he’d just lay with you, pulling your back to meet his chest, playing with your hair and stroking your tummy so sweetly <33 you two would quite literally get lost in each other

✶ theo

for yangie i’d imagine you both would be at a drive inn theatre date, the movie long forgotten as you’d be more preoccupied in swapping spit in his backseat. he’s wearing that leather jacket you oh so love, hair long and groomed and simple studs adorning his ears… tl:dr—he looks fine. at first it would start innocent, theo kissing your cheek as you got lost in the plot of the film, but he’d eventually grow bored and start sucking into the nape of your neck, not missing the way you’d rub your thighs together at the contact. after an impromptu makeout session, he’d whisper some shit into your ear about finding you much more interesting than the movie, and you couldn’t help but agree, wanting to see where this would lead the two of you.

so where did you both end up? fucking like rabbits in the back of his car of course! the movie had already ended, parking lot of the outdoor theatre now completely vacant, but the two of you don’t really notice, not when theo has your legs draped over his shoulders as he slams into your puffy cunt, thumb circling against your clit so harshly you feel lightheaded. he’s grunting so fucking loud, pupils blown out with lust as he just thrusts and thrusts, despite already cumming a few times. the car is foggy with the stench of sex, cherry cola slurpees, and theo’s cologne. you’re sobbing, tears drooping down the sides of your face and puddling against your ears, hair, and of course, his car seats. it’s just soooooo gross and so animalistic but he can’t stop :(

✶ jiung

eats you out, knee deep.. in the passenger seat (thank u chappell roan). i feel like he’d be all horny at the dorms, but wouldn’t do anything about it because he knows you two aren’t alone in the space (def is uncharacteristically handsy though). it doesn’t help that he hasn’t fucked you in weeks because of how hectic group promotions have been, and that you came over to the dorms wearing the tiniest little skirt he’s ever seen. when it’s time for you to leave, he doesn’t turn the car on, doesn’t pull out of the dorm driveway before occupying your space, kissing you deep and descending down to your legs. the tight space is cramped for sure, but he doesn’t really give a fuck, not when he has you above him, panties wet and in his line of vision. presses little kisses onto your clothed pussy, loving the way you’re already pulling at his hair and mewling at such little contact.

eats you out so slowly it makes you insane, no amount of you begging him to “just fuck me already!” halting the lazy way he devours your cunt like it’s his last meal. after all, he deserves this after working so hard, so just shut up and take it :( isn’t mean enough to not fuck you though, he’s not strong enough to dismiss your begging forever. doesn’t bring you to the backseat like you’d expect, he just towers over you and fucks you right into the passenger seat. complains cutely the next day that he’s cramped and sore, but it was worth it ^_^

✶ intak

lovesssss car sex to the point where you’re already anticipating it everytime you two are on a drive alone. it just makes him feel so dirty in the best of ways, the way he can’t control himself around you, the way your pussy squeezes his dick in a vice grip with every thrust, how his cum drips out of you onto his leather seats. i also imagine intak would want to film himself fucking you in his backseat, giving you the nastiest backshots known to man as he makes eye contact with the camera, smirking at how you attempt to hide your face in embarrassment. definitely talks you through it, especially when you ask so kindly to ride him in the backseat :P praises you for taking his dick so well, for letting him fuck you somewhere where anyone could find you both.

his favorite sight though? definitely the image of your bare tits pressed against his windows when he’s pounding into your sloppy cunny. makes him feel like the man, for sure. and on the rare occasion that you’re the one asking to fuck in his car? he’s so giddy, knowing that he’s corrupted his little princess and turned her into a cockwhore :D

✶ soul

i can’t write this prompt for soul and not include the reader giving him head! you’d just be sooo appreciative and full of love for your boyfriend sho, he was so nice to you today, bought your entire saved cart on your favorite online shopping site, purposely let you win when playing smash bros with you, ordered takeout to his dorm and hand fed you :( you feel the need to thank him, to reward him for being such a sweetie pie, and what says thank you better than some sloppy toppy? he’d be sososo shy, begging you to let him park before you unbuckle his pants but you’re too desperate to make him feel good!! when he parks into your driveway he lets go of his coy attitude, fully fists your hair and pushes your head against the base of his cock to the point where you’re loudly gagging against his shaft. when you pull up for some much-needed air you’re beaming at him, giving him the widest smile and wasting no time in dropping back down to your previous position.

i can practically hear shota praising you with a satisfied “atta girl, suck this fucking cock”, cumming into your mouth, and roughly fingering you afterwards as thanks for being such a thoughtful girlfriend :O

✶ jongseob

this def isn’t for everyone but i’m so obsessed with the idea of jongseob being your dealer and boyfriend all in one. he’d drive you to some empty park late at night, would smoke a few pre-rolls with you on the abandoned swings, and get horny and lead you back to his car. the pair of you are stumbling into the backseat, dizzy and giggly, making out with urgency (and some sloppiness) and peeling off each others clothes until you’re both fully naked. ride him while he lights up another joint, it’d be sooo sexy. oh and of course he’d let you take the first puff, would gladly let you grab at his face afterwards and push the smoke into his mouth before crashing your plump lips against his. the effects of the weed has your hips slightly uncoordinated, but none of you really care. seob would smack your ass as encouragement too :3

like keeho, i think afterwards you’d both just lay there, fully bare, cuddling, kissing, and smoking in a comfortable silence. maybe even nap until seob is okay to drive you back home <3 and like i always say, i’m convinced he’d take some polaroid of you, sat on his cock, smoking a joint and staring at the camera all slutty ..

taglist: @woozixo @hearts4chanhee @kyokopi @astro-doll-the-star @soobiary @kyaaramello @angelcbf @idontknow-1s-world @dprvivi @elissasimp @imjustayapper @ihatewreckingballmains @sosaverse @seobing @www90kitsch @khfviq @barbiekh86t @bbyjjunie @taeyangi @fullsunstrawberry @jihnyah @intheemptymirror @watamotee33 @dreamer1299 @jixnnsie @wonootnoot @yukx-x047 @sundancearchives @chuuswifereal @seisyiss @fishsquishh @sunnyyangie @asianpenguin04 @lunepoesie @haku-s0ultrain @tkooooop @taehyux

© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

✶ <3

[rafecameronssl4t]

Mind, body, and soul || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @mad3lyncline

Summary: in a rare moment of vulnerability, Rafe voices his need for you and you only.

Warnings: angst galore 😍😍

Word count: 2,371

A/n: guys this acc had me giggling, smiling, and kicking my feet bc I love it when Rafe is so lovestruck by reader and being vulnerable to her and her only.

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

As you reverse park your car, the bass-heavy thrum of trap music vibrates so intensely you can feel it reverberating even from your car. Sarah, lounging in the passenger seat with a tipsy grin, shakes her head. “I can already tell I’m going to be horribly hungover tomorrow.” You chuckle, flicking her a sympathetic look as your finger hovers over the button to raise the convertible roof.

“Me too,” you agree with a laugh. But just as you press it, a blinding light floods the car, making both of you instinctively shield your eyes. “What the hell?” you mutter, squinting as you try to make out the source of the glare. Across the parking lot, a truck idles with its high beams aimed right at you. You narrow your eyes, recognising it immediately.

“Is that your brother’s truck?” you ask Sarah, already knowing the answer. She groans. “It is.” With an exaggerated sigh, you roll your eyes and flip him off, watching as he laugh. “Yeah, real funny, dickhead!” you call out, your voice carrying over the pulsing music just as the roof finishes closing.

Shaking your head with an amused grin, you hop out of the car, the cool night air washing over you as you look back to see Rafe, still sitting behind the wheel with that signature smug grin, clearly pleased with his little stunt. “Of course my brother’s here,” Sarah mutters under her breath as she steps out and shuts her door, the headlights casting long shadows across the driveway as you hit the lock button.

You laugh, nudging her with your shoulder. “It’s a party loaded with booze, drugs, and girls—where else would he be? Rafe wouldn’t stray too far from that scene,” you say, a knowing smirk playing at your lips. As you round the car, you throw a pointed glance his way, catching his eye for a brief, charged moment.

His grin widens, like he’s daring you to say something, but you roll your eyes, dismissing him as you turn back toward the house. The heavy beat from inside grows louder with each step, the thumping bass promising a long, wild night ahead. Behind you, you can still feel Rafe’s gaze, lingering with a mix of mischief and something unspoken.

~

“Finally, you’re here,” his voice murmurs close to your ear just as his arm slips around your waist, pulling you into him. The familiar warmth of his body and the scent of his cologne makes you melt, and you can’t help but grin as you look up at him. “Miss me that much?” you tease, rising onto your tiptoes to press a quick kiss to his lips, savouring the brief contact.

“Get a room, please,” Sarah mutters, rolling her eyes as she heads off, leaving you both laughing softly. You’re still smiling into the kiss when his hand slides to grip your waist, then dips lower to give your ass a playful squeeze. Biting back a laugh, you take his hand in yours and lead him inside, weaving through the crowd toward the kitchen, where bottles line the counters and red cups litter the island.

Just as you reach for a drink, you hear Rafe’s voice behind you, casual yet somehow authoritative. “Hey, man,” he calls out, extending a hand. You turn in time to see Topper clasp his hand, pulling him in for a quick bro hug, their easy familiarity apparent. Rafe glances over Topper’s shoulder and gives you a subtle wink, a smirk dancing on his lips. You take a slow, steady sip of your drink, trying to ignore the flutter that Rafe’s wink stirs up.

He gives you a curt nod, voice cool as he says your name—“Y/n”—playing it off casually, fully aware that Topper’s watching. Then, as if on cue, Topper drapes his arm over your shoulder, pulling you close. You lean into his touch, holding Rafe’s gaze with a challenging glint as you cock an eyebrow at him, feeling the tension sparking in the space between you. Rafe just smiles, but you can tell by the tightness at the corners of his mouth that he’s bothered, the calm facade masking what you know to be a prick of jealousy.

Leaning in, you press close to Topper, your lips brushing his ear as you murmur, “I’m gonna go find Sarah. I’ll be back.” You punctuate the words with a soft kiss to his jaw, aware of Rafe’s intense gaze on you, reading every movement. With one last glance over your shoulder, you slip away, feeling the weight of Rafe’s stare as you blend into the crowd, a mix of satisfaction and anticipation simmering in your chest.

~

“Took you long enough,” Rafe’s voice comes out in a lazy drawl, each word dripping with barely concealed impatience as you shut the door softly behind you. His eyes are locked on you, tracking your every step as you make your way across the room, his posture relaxed, yet there’s a simmering intensity beneath it.

“Yeah, well, I was having my fun,” you say with a playful pout, savoring the way his gaze darkens slightly, jaw tightening as he registers your words. You take your time, letting each step toward him linger, the tension between you building with each inch of distance closed. Rafe’s expression flickers with something unreadable as you stop a couple of feet from him.

“What do you want, Rafe?” you ask, voice soft but steady, holding his gaze with a hint of challenge. His eyes drag slowly over you, a touch possessive. “I don’t get why you’re still with him,” he says, his voice carrying a quiet edge. The statement hangs in the air, daring you to defend it. “Topper?” You shrug casually, though you can see the slight twitch in Rafe’s jaw as you say his name.

“Well, he’s my boyfriend. And…” You pause, watching his reaction, leaning into the charged silence before continuing, “I love him.” Your voice is confident, but you’re aware of how close you are now, of the heat radiating from his body as you step between his legs, close enough to feel the subtle tension in him. Rafe’s pupils dilate, his breathing shallow as he lifts his gaze back to yours, dark and intense.

Slowly, his hand reaches out, resting on the back of your thigh, fingers tightening as he guides you a step closer, his touch firm, sending a shiver through you. The distance between you vanishes, and you bring your hands up to his face, cradling it gently as you tilt his head back, forcing him to look up at you. His usual confidence is flickering, replaced by something raw, vulnerable.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, his voice barely audible, laced with a desperate edge. His eyes search yours, seeking the truth, his unspoken desire crackling in the air between you, daring you to deny it. His words hang between you, heavy with something you’re not ready to name, his eyes searching yours with a mix of longing and frustration that makes your heart race.

ou hesitate, fingers brushing over his jaw, feeling the tension in him as he waits for you to say something, anything, that confirms what he so desperately wants to believe. A soft laugh escapes your lips, and you arch an eyebrow at him, letting the weight of his expectation settle for a beat before saying, “I don’t get why you’re acting like this just because I let you go down on me at that party.”

Your voice is teasing, the words edged with a playfulness that you know will only stoke his frustration further. Rafe’s eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he processes your response. He lets out a short, mirthless laugh, his grip on your thigh tightening just enough for you to feel the heat of his frustration. “You think this is a joke?” he murmurs, voice low, but there’s a vulnerable edge beneath the words.

You let your hands fall from his face, crossing your arms as you look down at him, still standing between his legs. “What am I supposed to think, Rafe? You’re acting like one night means forever.” You raise an eyebrow, challenging him, but the way he’s looking at you—intense, possessive, almost pleading—makes your own resolve waver. Rafe’s gaze sharpens, his frustration giving way to something deeper, more vulnerable.

“You think I just go down on anyone?” he mutters, his voice barely concealing the hurt simmering beneath his irritation. His hand tightens on your thigh, pulling you that much closer as he speaks. “I wouldn’t do that if you didn’t mean something to me, if this didn’t mean something.” You feel his words settle over you, heavier than you expected. His eyes are locked on yours, unflinching, his expression raw and open in a way that catches you off guard.

He’s never looked at you like this, not with this intensity, this strange mix of frustration and honesty that threatens to crack your own defenses. Rafe’s hand slides up to rest on your hip, his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that sends a shiver through you. “That night, it wasn’t just a game for me,” he says softly, voice rough with the weight of the confession. “Don’t pretend it was for you, either.”

You want to say something, anything that will take the edge off the tension thickening between you, but as you look into his eyes, you realize there’s nothing you can say to downplay what happened. The unspoken connection between you is real, and the way he’s holding you now feels dangerously close to a promise. “He’s your best friend, Rafe,” you whisper, your voice softening as you move a strand of his hair away from his forehead.

The gesture feels intimate, yet the weight of your words hangs heavy in the air, a reminder of the precarious line you’re both walking. Rafe shifts slightly, moving his head aside, the warmth of your touch lingering as your finger hovers just above his skin, caught between wanting to reach out and the realization of the boundary you’re skirting. After a moment’s pause, you let your hand fall back down beside you, the distance between you feeling impossibly charged.

“Yeah, and I don’t care about him,” he replies, his voice low but steady, an edge of defiance creeping in. “What matters is how I feel about you.” There’s a moment where his expression flickers—vulnerability giving way to defensiveness. Your heart races at his admission, the honesty in his tone sending a thrill through you. “So you think that just because we had one moment, I should throw everything away?” you challenge, your voice firm, yet tinged with uncertainty.

Rafe’s expression hardens, but there’s a flicker of vulnerability beneath the surface. “You make it sound like I should care about Topper,” he says, the annoyance creeping into his voice. “I don’t. All I care about is you.” The weight of his words hangs in the air, thick with tension. You take a breath, feeling the gravity of what he’s saying. “But it’s not that simple, Rafe. You can’t just ignore everything else.”

“Why not?” he replies, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper, filled with intensity. “Why can’t I want you? Why can’t I want more than what we’ve settled for?” Your pulse quickens, caught between his gaze and the truth of your own feelings. Rafe’s intensity is captivating, and as he searches your eyes for answers, you realise that the boundaries you thought you had are blurring, the desire between you too strong to deny.

“Because you can’t have me,” you whisper, your voice barely audible, but the words land with a finality that makes his jaw tense. Your hands lift to cradle his face, fingertips brushing against his skin as if trying to commit every line and angle to memory. Your gaze flickers to his lips, the urge to close the distance almost overpowering.

Rafe’s eyes darken, his breath hitching as he studies your face, searching for any trace of doubt. “Says who?” he murmurs, leaning into your touch, his hands coming up to rest gently over yours. He’s holding you there, grounding himself in this moment as though refusing to let it slip away. You swallow, feeling the intensity radiate off him. “Says the part of me that knows you don’t always get what you want.”

The words feel heavy, but there’s a tremor in your voice that betrays your resolve. Even as you speak, your thumb unconsciously traces the curve of his cheek, lingering with a tenderness that contradicts the distance you’re trying to impose. Rafe’s gaze drops to your mouth, a flicker of longing crossing his face. “That’s where you’re wrong,” he whispers, his voice rough and unsteady, his eyes meeting yours with a determination that makes your heart race.

“I can’t help wanting you. Mind, body, and soul,” he murmurs, the words heavy with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine. His voice is low, almost reverent, and as he leans in, his lips hover just inches from yours. His breath fans over your skin, warm and inviting, the space between you crackling with electricity.

His hands slide down, settling possessively on your waist, fingers pressing into you as though anchoring himself in this moment. He pulls you in closer, his gaze locked on yours with a raw vulnerability that you’ve rarely seen. “And I think you want this too,” he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes searching your face for any hint of hesitation.

You feel your resolve wavering, the intensity in his words and the weight of his touch making it impossible to ignore the desire building between you. There’s a pause, a beat of silence where the world outside fades away, leaving only the two of you, caught in this fragile, electric moment. You feel the pull, the undeniable truth in his words.

Your fingers tighten slightly against his skin, and you lean in just enough to brush your lips over his, tentative, testing, but unable to hold back. It’s a whisper of a kiss, a surrender, and as his grip on you tightens, you know there’s no turning back.

[coqvttes]

୨୧― 𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐠. 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚 𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐨𝐧

୨୧˚ synopsis: your dad sends his best friend officer grimes to pick up his precious daughter from a party, but things get heated when rick punishes you for resisting an officer.

୨୧˚ warnings: nsfw 16+ only, p in v, petnames, crying, teasing, spanking, fem!reader, sub!reader, dbf!rick, dom!rick, age gap, creampie, rough sex, manhandling, mentions of handcuffs, public sex, lmk if i forgot anything!

୨୧˚ wc: 1.4k for @pillow-princess-69 ‘s request <3

“you’re coming with me, sweetheart,” he says, giving you no chance to answer or even breathe before he’s hoisting you up and practically throwing you over his broad shoulder. you squeal as he holds you firmly in place. 

“noooooo, rick, im having fun!” you wail, smacking his shoulder as if it would do any damage. he shakes his head as he heads back towards the front door, his hand holding you by the waist, fingers so dangerously close to your arse.

“‘m staying here!” pleading, you kick your legs up in the air, causing his grip on your side to tighten. He pays you no attention as he pushes through the crowd of people holding red cups and dancing to the awfully loud music. 

he manages to get past the front door and he pulls the door of his police patrol car open, leaning down to plop you down in the passenger seat. he slams your door shut before getting in the driver's seat. 

“seatbelt,” he orders, but you ignore him and huff as you cross your arms, gosh you never fail to give him the usual attitude. he rolls his eyes before leaning over you to click your seatbelt on for you like a child.

“i’m not a baby! it was just a party. it’s only midnight! you just had to barge in and ruin it.” you complain, glaring at him. 

“your dad sent me to pick you up, so i’m just doing my job, and i don’t want you to get drunk and get yourself into trouble.”

he starts the engine up and rests his hand on the back of your headrest to reverse, but you don’t even hear him as your attention is focused entirely on his beefy arm as he’s trying to reverse out of the driveway. 

“officer, is it true that you get to take your handcuffs home?” 

his brow raises, and he gives you a curious expression before nodding. 

“yes, i take my cuffs home with me, got em right here,” he says, taking a hand off the wheel to show you the cuffs that hang on the belt of his trousers. you smile before speaking again.

“do you use them when you have sex?”

his expression changes to complete shock, and his cheeks burn as he spares you a glance. his expression is priceless as he fumbles with his words, unsure of how to answer such a question.

“i’d let you put me in handcuffs, officer. grimes,” you whisper, trailing your fingers slowly up his tense thigh before hastily grabbing onto his prominent bulge in his trousers, palming him cheekily.

oh now you’ve done it. He abruptly stops the car in the middle of nowhere, as it seems. you smirk as you try to read his emotions as he switches gears before pulling his seatbelt off. he gets out of the car before looping around to your side, opening the passenger door.

“get out.” he pulls you out by the arm roughly and slams the door shut, maneuvering you over to the hood of the car as you stumble along.

“you need to watch your mouth, sweetheart. saying things like that to a man might get you into some trouble, you know?” 

his voice is deep and throaty, and your cunt is practically drooling for him as he bends you over the bonnet of the car, his palm pressing down on the dip of your back, just above your arse. 

“‘m sorry, officer, are you gonna have to punish me?” you tease, wiggling your arse at him, practically taunting him. 

“god, you’ve been testing my patience, sweetheart. you know how long i’ve had to hold back from putting you in your place? god if it wasn’t for your dad, i would’ve fucked you by now.” 

rick practically growls as he flips up your little skirt, smiling when he sees how your cute little cotton panties have a dark wet spot down the middle, right where your precious cunt is.

“awww you wet for me, darlin?” he coos, rubbing his calloused thumb over the dampness of your panties, pressing down ever so gently. he grins satisfactorily as you let out a quiet whimper, arching your back into the pleasure.

his fingers sneak into your panties and cup your glistening mound before tugging them down entirely, pulling them off your legs before stuffing them in his pocket, but you don't know that. 

you gasp and turn your head around as you hear his belt unbuckling before he tugs his trousers and briefs down just enough so that he can pull his dick out. he’s so hard, his angry head is leaking with pre-cum from your previous teasing. 

he rubs the tip against your weeping cunt a few times before he pushes inside of you, groaning throatily. you lunge forward from the sudden intrusion and gasp out his name. 

his hand rests on the dip of your back, and his other rests on the curve of your arse. he sheathes himself inside you entirely before pulling out halfway, his movements are slow, and you whine impatiently. just as you’re about to complain, he starts thrusting in and out of your hole mercilessly.

knocking the air out of your lungs, you feel the drag of his dick in your gummy walls as he fucks you into oblivion. your knees buckle, and you lose your balance, but his strong, muscular arms hold you up against the car firmly.

god forbid, if any car drove past you, you’d both be down for public indecency, but it’s 4 a.m. and nobody drives down these roads at this hour. besides, he’s the law around here; he’s never letting anything happen to you, not on his watch.

rick cruelly pounds into your cunt, whispering filthy nonsense about how he’s been waiting so long to do this and how much of a brat you are. 

none of it makes sense in your dumb mind. with the feeling of his dick bullying into you, you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been waiting for this too. 

“r-rick! faster!” you cry, your voice wobbling slightly as your body lunges forward with each of his thrusts. 

“say it properly,” he tuts, bringing his palm up before smacking it on the softness of your arse. whimpering through tears, you barely manage.

“p-please officer, faster-!” he lets out a hum of approval before picking up his pace, now brutally snapping his hips against yours. 

it’s all too much with the rough groans coming from his throat, the lewd smacking noises of his hips snapping against yours, and your slutty moans. your climax nears as you chant his name like a prayer. 

he pounds into you in an almost animalistic manner, his hands gripping onto your waist so tight you swear you’ll bruise later. drool dripping down the corner of your lips at how deliciously filthy he’s fucking you. 

“ohh rickkk, mm!” you moan delightedly as your cunt clenches around him, pleasure washing over you entirely as you lose yourself around him. he follows up shortly, releasing his cum inside you with a broken moan.

“sweetheart”

he slowly exhales as he pulls out of your heat, warm cum spilling out of your used hole as you remain bent over his car, cunt clenching around nothing as he leaves you empty. 

“thank you, officer.” you giggle, pulling your panties back up.

“fuck, your dad’s gonna kill me.” he sighs, zipping his trousers back up and smirking at you. 

“not if he doesn’t find out.” you smile at him cheekily, approaching him, and he leans down to press a chaste kiss to your lips. you lean up to whisper, “next time, i’ll let you cuff me, officer.” you grin before walking past him to get back into the car.

he stands there, dumbfounded and wondering if he should just take you in the back of the car right now. he doesn’t think he can wait till next time, whenever next time is…

‧˚ʚɞ˚‧ all works belong to © coqvettes 2024. i do not give permission to claim, translate or copy any of my works. reblogs are appreciated!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Home For Christmas

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You get sidetracked on your way home.

Character: Andy Barber

Day Four of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - the car broke down and the snow is getting deep 

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"It's getting bad," Andy shifts in the passenger seat, as usual, stating the obvious.  

"Yeah, just gotta be careful," you grip the wheel, leaning into it as you try to see through the falling powder. "I've driven through worse." 

"Maybe, but it's not letting up," he sits up, concerned after his cat nap. "Might be a good idea to look for a hotel or something. Even just somewhere we can pull off until it dies down." 

"It's really not that much," you argue. You just want to get home. Just a few more hours and you get to enjoy your holidays. 

"Look, I know you wanna get back for Christmas but--" 

"Shit!" You exclaim as headlights flash through the white flakes and veer away from you with a honk as you twist the wheel to avoid the other car. 

You slam on the breaks as you steer into a heaping bank, sending up puffs of snow all around you. Andy grunts as he reaches over to flip on the hazards. You catch your breath as he sighs. You hate that sound. 

"What were you saying?" He mutters. 

"That guy was in the wrong lane," you argue. "I can't help that." 

"Yeah, but if you can't see them, they can't see you." 

You keep from countering. He always has to be right. Besides, he's your boss, he's supposed to be right. It just irks you how he talks to you like a child. You're almost the same damn age as him. 

"Let me drive," he insists. 

"Andy," you shift into reverse and check the back window, "can you check your phone? See if there's anything close by." 

Your defeat is in your voice. He is right. The snows getting worse by the second. You'll be lucky to get as far as a hotel. 

"Shit," he mutters as he sits back and looks at his phone, "no signal." 

He raises it, angling it around with a tut. You chew your cheeks in agitation. That means you can't even call James to let him know you'll be late. 

"I think I saw a sign back a ways..." you drone uncertainly, once more clamping down on the wheel. "Let me know if you see anything." 

You right the nose of the car, the tires rolling without traction before finally catching. That's not good either. Of course, the snow had to wait. It had to dump in that moment, when you're finally at the end of this stupid work trip. 

You head back down the highway, tense as you feel the tenuous grip of the tires. You’re not sure you’re going to get very far. You don’t. After a sluggish advance, the car swerves as snow builds up in the tire wells and clog the axle. Once more, you barely keep control as you steer back towards the snow-buried apron. 

You roll into the window high drifts and push both feet onto the brake. You hang your head forward and groan. Andy’s hand grips the corner of your seat, his other on the dashboard. You lean back and shake your heads. 

“Well, Happy Holidays,” you huff. “Should we get out and walk.” 

“You think we’ll get far?” He asks, though you can’t tell if it’s rhetorical or not. 

“What else can we do?” You wonder with exasperation. 

“Got an emerge kit in the trunk. Seats fold down.” 

You blink at him. He can’t mean that. 

“Just until it stops. It’s only building and even if we don’t want to, there’s not much choice.” 

“We can call for help,” you suggest. 

“Even if someone could get to us, I don’t have any bars. What about you?” 

You shift into park and take out your phone. A circle with a bar. Nothing. 

“Can’t keep this on forever either. The battery will die. There’s a thermal blanket, a couple of hand warmers, food...” 

“Jesus, how long are we going to be stuck here?” You look at him. 

For the first time in all the years you’ve worked with him, Andy looks uncertain. That adds to your anxiety. He frowns and slides his hand off the seat onto your shoulder. 

“Look, it’s fine. It should be more than tonight. Snow’s supposed to let up after dusk, then we just need to wait for the plows. They usually start up at 3. Before traffic gets heavy.” He assures. 

You nod. For once, you’re happy to have a know-it-all with you. 

“Alright, so, turn off the engine.” 

You do what he says and he reaches for his door. He pushes it open and the wind blows back his hair and dusts snow into the SUV. He goes to the back of the car, disappearing into the white void. You watch nervously, trying to see through the thick flakes. 

The hatch opens and you undo your seat belt so you can crane around. “What are you doing?” 

“Gotta make sure we’re visible. I’ll hang one of the emergency vests on the back.” 

“Oh, right, can I help?” You wonder. 

“If you can get the seats down, we’re going to have to keep as much warmth as we can. Lever’s underneath,” he hollers through the wind. His cheeks are already touched pink by the snowy blast. He pulls out a neon yellow vest and closes the back up. 

You get out of the seat and pull the switch on the side to fold it forward. You climb over it and feel around the front of the backseat. You get those down as the side door opens. And climbs up, crunching himself down to fit in the tight space. 

You operate silently in unison. He gets the blankets out. Two. He suggests one for underneath and the second over you. He has bottles of water, some cold rations, and little packets that heat up for about 15 minutes when you rub them. 

As you sit on the thermal blanket he feels the front of his jacket, “damn it,” you can see the moisture around his shoulders. 

He strips it off and shivers in his dress shirt. His hair is damp too, curling at the ends. He looks at you, his blue eyes bolder as the world is white outside the windows. 

“Uh, we gotta...” 

“Yeah, sure,” you grab the blanket and pull it close. He moves next to you. There isn’t quite enough space to stretch out. You’re scrunched up as your arms touch and you lean on the slight incline of the folded seat. 

“Gonna be a long night,” he mutters. 

“Not exactly the white Christmas I hoped for,” you agree. 

You don’t complain much more. You have someone to get home to eventually. Since the divorce, Andy is rarely eager to leave work. It’s exactly the reason you’re trapped on the side of the highway. The work trip was his reason not to be alone. You feel bad for him, even if he is an ass of a boss. 

❄️ 

Your teeth chatter as you hug yourself under the blanket. Andy’s heat burns at your back but can’t warm you as the wind whistles outside the car. He turns on the car for about ten minutes at a time but hasn’t in at least two hours as the coldness sets in. It’s better to conserve the heat under the blanket. 

His arm is around you, his chin in your shoulder, resting against yours. It’s an innately intimate position, intertwined, snug, but you’re not thinking about that. You’re just thinking about the miracle of modern heating. You just need to make it through tonight. 

He shifts and shivers against you. You put your hand on his to try to warm him. You don’t feel you’re offering much as he radiates with heat. 

He sighs. God, his damn sighs. The sound that make your office days longer. 

You close your eyes but can’t sleep. You’re too anxious to settle down. Your eyes burn with fatigue but your adrenaline keeps you unsettled. 

The silence is as frigid as the weather. Both of you stopped talking a while ago. There’s nothing left to say but the obvious. You can’t wait to be out of there. You try to relax, the tension aching in your neck. 

He shifts and his hand slips from under yours. You move too, searching for comfort. His fingers rustle down your shirt and touch the front of your pants. The awkward brush makes you squirm. He drags his hand back up and presses against the bottom of your shirt. 

You go rigid again. His fingertips trace the waistband of your wool trousers. Your eyes snap open. 

He dips beneath the fabric and you suck in a stunned breath. You flinch as he tickles along your panties. You cough. 

“Andy, what--” 

He hushes you, “it’s cold...” 

Does he know what he’s doing? Maybe he’s just trying to go up your shirt but that’s not better, is it? His cheek presses against your skull as he pulls you flush to him. He delves beneath your underwear and you gasp again. 

“Andy--” 

“No one will know,” he grits. 

“No, Andy,” you grab his forearm. “You can’t-- I know you’ve been going through a lot but no--” 

His other arm snakes up from under your waist and his hand stretches across your throat. You gulp and let out another surprised squeak. He squeezes as you reach to snatch at his grip. 

“And...” 

He chokes the protest from you as he grazes along your pelvis. You wince and as he rocks his hips against you. He purrs. “Mmm, nice and tidy... like you were expecting this.” 

Your skin blazes in humiliation. You spent a little extra time trimming. You missed James terribly and his texts betrayed that the feeling was mutual. 

You croak but can’t speak. He fingertips press behind your jaw until the pain waters in your eyes. He jams his hand between your thighs. He curls against your cunt and glides between your folds. Another spark of humiliation scalds you. It’s been weeks since you had the time of energy to spend with James. You and your husband are just too busy. You’re all too responsive to the rare touch. 

The fear constricts across your ribs as your heart pound, echoing in your temples. You squeeze his wrist which only inspires him to tighten his hold on your throat. Your eyes gloss over with helplessness. You can't stop him. Not in that moment and even if you could speak, there’s no one to hear you scream for help. 

He bends his fingers until they sink past your entrance. He has no patience. He buries himself to his lowest knuckle, gripping tight so the heel of his hand is against your clit. The pressure pulses into your core. 

He tilts his hand, forming a slow rhythm that feeds a different kind of heat. The kind that burns your soul. You flick your lashes as your walls clench him and you twitch. No, no. 

Your breath picks up. You think of your husband, waiting, worried, and you’re there... he can’t ever know. Even if it’s wrong. Even if you don’t want it. 

“I’ve been so lonely,” he rasps against the brim of your ear. “I just... need to touch someone.” His desperation trembles in his voice. “You’re so warm and soft.... and wet.” 

You hear your cunt clinging to him as he rocks his hand faster and faster. The swirl of nerves flurries to a spiral. The coil twists tighter and tighter. You arch your back, pushing your ass back unthinkingly against his crotch. 

He moves in response. Rubbing his hard bulge against you. His own breath hitches as he writhes in tandem with his hand. His palm claps against you as he fucks you harder and harder, pumping himself against your ass. 

You let go of him to bite your finger. You cum in a spasm, your tears overflowing in more than shame. It’s a sense of relief, the release of the tension built of neglect and stress. He puffs furiously as he ruts against you, shaking as his voice gurgles and his rhythm turns spasmodic. 

He growls and grunts until he falls out of motion. He stills and goes slack, his hand trapped beneath your thighs as he heaves. He purrs and nuzzles your ear. 

“I won’t tell him if you don’t,” he grits. 

[daisynik7]

[F4M] You Leave a Naughty Voicemail for Your Husband While He Works Overtime [Established Relationship][Mutual Masturbation][Car Sex][Sub to Soft Dom][Breeding Kink][Mating Press][No Thoughts][Brain Empty][Just Fucking]

Read Part 1 here!

Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader

Rating: Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: ~3.6k

cw: established relationship, p*rn without plot, smut –  PIV sex (cowgirl, missionary, mating press, doggy), mutual masturbation, mentions of sex toys, edging, blowjob, car sex, clitoral stimulation, spanking, some spit play, breeding kink, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, honey, princess, baby, good girl/boy), slight degradation kink

Summary: You record a naughty voicemail for your husband while he works overtime, leaving him yearning for more. Author’s Note: Hiya friends! Breaking my tumblr hiatus temporarily to post this. Consider this a sequel/part 2 to my other fic inspired by more NSFW audio. Someone gave me the idea to do a fic with the roles reversed, so here it is! Had a blast writing this, so I hope you enjoy! Bonus: here are some NSFW audios that inspired it (of course, they’re AugustInTheWinter): Link 1, Link 2 (reddit links, 18+). Likes, comments, and/or reblogs are always appreciated, thanks so much for reading! Header image from the manga On Doorstep (it's BL and the MC looks like Nanami, I highly recommend). MDNI banner created by @/mikeykuns.

It’s past eleven when Nanami steps out of the conference room with the rest of his colleagues, having just finished the last team meeting of the day. He was asked to work overtime to help fix any remaining issues before the end of the fiscal year, which is in a few days. Normally, he’d never agree to this, but with your wedding anniversary approaching in a month, he wants the extra income to buy you that gold chain bracelet you’ve had an eye on. 

With all his tasks complete for the day, he can finally leave. He gathers his belongings, checking his phone to see the missed call and voicemail you left him about an hour ago. She must be asleep already, he thinks, not bothering to call you back. When he gets in his car, he props his phone to the mount, ready to listen to your voicemail on Bluetooth while he drives home. He presses play as soon as he pulls out from his parking spot.

“Kento.” Your voice is hushed and breathy. “I miss you.”

Nanami clenches his jaw, already aroused by your sultry tone. He grips the steering wheel tighter, glancing at the phone screen to check the length of the voicemail: three minutes. That’s the limit before it cuts you off. And while the ride home is a mere ten, he has a feeling it will be excruciatingly long by the way this message is already playing. 

You sigh. “I miss you so much, Kento.” There’s rustling in the background; Nanami imagines that you’re turning over in bed, under the covers. What are you wearing right now? The cute flannel pajamas he bought you two years ago for Valentine’s Day? Or the lingerie set you purchased yourself to surprise him for your most recent anniversary? At this rate, for his own sanity, he’s not sure which one he prefers. 

“I can’t wait till you get home, honey. I’m so…” Your voice is heavy with lust; he can see the provocative face you’re making as you squeeze the phone to your ear, reaching between your legs to that throbbing pussy. “I’m so horny right now. I wish you were here.” If he listens closely, he can hear the squelch of fingers flicking your clit rapidly. “But since you’re not, is it okay if I touch myself?”

He’s tempted to slam on the gas and fly through the city to get to you in record time. Break all driving violations and his own personal morals to watch you play with yourself. It’s torture, sitting behind this red light, following the rules, listening to you moan into the phone, so needy and desperate for his cock. What’s worse is that you’re ovulating this week; he knows how pent up you must be from his absence tonight. Fertile and in heat, that wet sloppy cunt begging to be filled with his seed. He promised he’d make it up to you tomorrow morning, but why waste this perfectly good opportunity? Especially when you’re practically begging for it. 

“Remember how good you fucked me last night? How you pinned me down by the wrists? How tightly I squeezed my legs around you as you pumped me full of cum?” It’s all Nanami thought about when he wasn’t focused on work today. Enough to force him into the men’s room to jerk himself off, fantasizing about it. Replaying your wanton moans ringing in his ears, the way your body convulsed around him, that adorably dumb expression on your face while you were getting fucked into oblivion. Normally, he’d be ashamed of himself at how lewd he was being in a work setting, but the memory of you was too irresistible, even for him. 

He’s not usually perverse like this, but something about you drives him crazy. His hands are typically at 10-and-2, the correct position to steer the wheel. But just this once, he deems it necessary to lose his prim and proper attitude. He drops one into his lap to unbuckle his belt, unzip his pants, and reach down to palm his cock through his briefs. It’s enough to gain a bit of relief from this torment, at least until he’s safely home. Nanami wipes the sweat beading on his brow, accelerating too hard when the light finally switches to green, keeping his grip steady as he strokes his cock, listening intently to your voice surrounding him in the car. 

“Are you hard right now, Kento?” There’s more movement in the background, as if you’re opening and shutting a drawer. Blood rushes into his cheeks, predicting exactly what you’re about to do. “Do you like listening to me touch myself?” There’s a familiar hum now, and he visualizes the pink vibrator buzzing in your hand, the fluttering tip teasing your swollen clit. He’d do anything to teleport directly into the bedroom and have his way with you.  

“I’m so lonely in this bed without you. I’m fucking myself, thinking about you. Wishing it’s you instead of this stupid toy. Can you hear it, sweetie?”

“Yes,” he answers to no one, shoving his underwear down to release his erection, stroking himself faster with his right fist. He’s forced to stop again; how many fucking streetlights does this goddamn city need anyways?! It’s excruciating. 

“My pussy is aching for your big cock.” The buzzing intensifies; you’ve increased the setting one level, on the verge of an orgasm. Typical behavior of his obedient slut of a wife. He loves sliding his fingers inside while you press the vibrator deeper into your clit. He’s obsessed with the way you gush around him, clenching him tighter, addicted to how it tastes on his tongue when he slides those cum-coated digits into his mouth. 

“Hurry home, honey. I’m waiting for you. This pussy is already so wet for you. I’m going to use you as my sex toy tonight.”

“Fuck, I want that. I really want that,” Nanami moans in response, releasing his cock from his grasp, thighs fidgeting from arousal. 

“You love it when I use you, huh? Love it when I fuck you silly until you’re milked dry.”

He groans, bucking his hips into nothing in the seat, briefly losing control of the wheel, causing the car to swerve. “Fuck, I love it, sweetie. I love it. Please.” He’s not sure what he’s begging for. All he knows is that if he doesn’t get home soon, he’ll combust, taking the car down with him. 

“Fuck, Kento. I’m thinking about how deep you hit it from behind. Slapping my ass, treating me like a bad girl, pounding your hips into me like a fucking animal. I get so fucking cock drunk off you. Makes me want to come just talking about it.”

“Then come for me, baby,” he blurts out, fully aware he’s talking to a recording. He’s completely lost it now. 

“Ah, I’m close. I – ” you interrupt yourself with your own whimpers. Nanami listens as he cruises past the speed limit now, wiping the bead of precum at the tip of his cock with his thumb,  edging himself. It’d be a shame for him to waste his load onto his lap. He’s going to give you every fucking drop he has. Build it up so that your pussy is flooding with his hot, sticky mess. 

You whine loudly, “I’m coming, Kento. Ah, I’m coming for you.” You moan into the phone, and Nanami has to release himself to prevent from orgasming too, Then, there’s silence on your end, except for your staggered breaths and occasionally rustling of the sheets beneath you. Eventually, the voicemail ends without another word, and he assumes that you’ve fallen asleep. He smiles to himself, imagining you, his gorgeous wife, with your legs splayed out, vibrator loosely gripped, completely knocked out on the bed. 

He replays the voicemail, continuing to edge himself until he finally pulls into their driveway, opening the garage. He parks, shutting off the ignition, then searches the backseat for the box of tissues, wanting to clean up whatever mess he’s made. Before he gets the chance to, the door leading inside swings open, and it’s you, standing in the door frame in a sheer lingerie nightgown. The same one he expected you’d be wearing tonight. 

He swallows hard, cock still out, stiffer than ever, watching you step towards the driver’s side, bright face peering through the window. You glance to his lap, noticing the lewd sight. 

You tap on the glass, feigning innocence. “Kento?”

He opens the door slowly, face flushed, eyes half-lidded in a daze. “Sweetheart, please.” 

His slacks have been shoved off haphazardly down his legs, engorged cock sprung against his abdomen, precum leaking out the tip. His cheeks are pink, hair tousled, forehead dewy with sweat. You smirk at him, pleased to see that he’s listened to your voicemail. “Oh, honey. Look at you. Have you been a bad boy?” You surround him with your fingers, jerking him slowly. He twitches at your touch, sensitive and aching in your fist. 

He shakes his head, shutting his eyes closed as you stroke him. “No,” he stutters, “I’ve been very good.”

You inspect the car, realizing what he’s trying to convey to you; he hasn’t come yet. “Oh, baby,” you coo, squeezing his cock in your fist. “You’ve been very, very good. My good boy.”

He nods this time, leaning forward for a kiss. “Yes, I’m a good boy for you. I’m your good boy,” he huffs through gritted teeth. Nanami isn’t normally like this, so submissive and needy. But tonight, he has zero hesitation; he’s begging to be dominated, to be used and toyed with. 

You lick into his mouth, nipping at his bottom lip. “Do you want your reward now? Or should we go inside first?”

He won’t last much longer, so he spits out, “Now. Please.”

You smirk, kissing him messily, tongues swirling, swapping spit while his dick pulsates in your palm. “Fuck,” he groans, rocking his hips into you. “I’m going to come if you keep – ” he chokes on his saliva, unable to finish his sentence. 

You giggle, nibbling at his ear lobe. “If I do what, baby?” You want to tease him a bit more, so you bend over his lap, kneeling on the bottom frame of the car, sinking down on him with your mouth. He throws his head back against the headrest, swearing loudly. You blow him until his cock is lubricated with your spit and he’s squirming above you, ready to burst. 

He pulls you off him abruptly, tugging you towards him. “I can’t,” he urges, completely red now, all frenzied and flustered. “Please, I can’t take it anymore.”

Giggling, you swing your leg over him, straddling his lap and smooching his forehead. “Alright, honey. I tormented you enough.” You’re not wearing any panties beneath your nightgown, so when you start to rub yourself on his shaft, his eyes widen in surprise, staring at you, sputtering a mix of curses and nonsense.

You grin, kissing him softly, rocking yourself along his length. “I told you, didn’t I? This pussy is so wet for you. I’ve been prepping myself all night, thinking about you.”

“Fuck, I’m going to come. Put it in, sweetheart. Hurry.”

You guide him in you easily until he bottoms out, sitting on him without moving, licking into his mouth. His hands slide around your hips, holding you tenderly, staying still, melting into your kiss. Before you can start bouncing on him, he squeezes you, huffing, “I’m coming.” 

His dick pulsates, spurting his hot seed deep inside you. You continue to kiss him, smiling against his lips, pleased and satisfied. When he’s finished, you graze his ear. “Good boy.”

“Fuck,” he mutters, brows knit together, eyes shut tight. He opens one to peek at you, embarrassed. “This is your fault.” The blush on his face cascades along his neck. “You knew this would happen when you left me that voicemail.”

Laughing, you give him a smooch on his cheek. “You’re right. I was being bad tonight. Are you going to punish me for it?” You tug at his tie, loosening it on his collar, trailing his chest to unbutton his dress shirt. 

He relaxes, smirking as he slaps your ass with his palm, cupping the flesh immediately after. You whine his name at the contact, nuzzling into his neck. “Ah, Kento.”

“Bad girls deserve to be punished,” he growls, low and wicked, delivering a fresh smack to the other side. His cock is erect again inside you, stuffing you full once more. “You’re going to take this cock until I can’t get hard anymore. Understand?” He rocks you back and forth on him, thumb pressed at your clit, rubbing small circles. “Until this slutty little cunt is so full of my cum.”

You nod silently, clinging to his shoulders, body trembling with arousal. The switch in demeanor, from him begging you for sweet release to now being domineering and cocky, has you titillating for more. He chuckles, wrapping you in snug embrace, kissing the top of your head. “Look at you, darling. You’re shaking. Let’s go to the bedroom, okay princess?” And his ability to turn on this sweet charm has you softening in his arms, pliant and ready to be played with. 

Soon, you’re inside your bedroom, legs spread wide, some residual cum trickling down the inside of your thighs. He strips his remaining clothes off, cock unbelievable rigid in his fist, jerking himself off to the sight of you in your transparent lingerie, his load leaking from your slit. 

“You’re a fucking slut for getting me worked up like this,” he grunts, hovering over you, tapping the tip of his dick on your swollen clit. “I edged myself the entire drive, saving all this cum for you.”

You bite your lip, holding back the guttural, animalistic moan escaping from within your throat. His confession has you quaking, eager to be filled even more to the brim with his seed, eager to be bred. You can blame it on the fact that you’re currently in heat, or that you’re just this much in love with your husband that you can’t think of anything else you want more in this moment than to be connected with him. You grip the sheets below you, fanning your thighs impatiently, waiting for his cock. “Breed me, honey. Fuck all your cum inside me. I want all of it, every single drop. Hurry.”

Oh how quickly do the roles reverse. 

He slides his cock inside you, his own cum coating it as he pulls out slightly, observing the lewd scene. “Look at how full you are, and it’s still not enough. Such a greedy cum slut.” He spits a frothy wad of his saliva onto your clit, smearing it with his thumb. “You’re going to come on this cock before I give you anything. Got it?”

You nod, closing your eyes, turning your head to the side, losing yourself to the pleasure rippling through your body as he pounds into your pussy, the sensation so intense it resonates all the way down to your toes. He’s so mean, so unlike his usual doting self when he’s in this mood, and you can’t help but succumb to it. He tips your chin back towards him. “Look at it,” he demands. You open your eyes, his expression wild, fucking you faster, his thumb working your clit ruthlessly. “Watch me fuck this messy cunt.” He grips you behind the legs, hoisting you so that your knees are towards your chest, holding you into a mating press. Unable to contain it any longer, you moan loudly, grabbing at your own ankles to keep yourself spread wide for him as he thrusts in and out of you relentlessly. 

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it sweetheart? To be fucked and pounded by me instead of that silly toy. To use me and milk me dry of every last drop. You asked for this. This is what you get for being so fucking naughty.” He rests one of your legs onto his shoulder, turning to smooch the side of your knee, sucking on your skin. 

You continue to moan his name until it’s reduced into a blubber of incoherent cries as you’re pushed over the edge, reaching your climax. “That’s it, come on my cock, princess. That’s a good girl.” Still, he doesn’t ease up; in fact, he fucks you harder, spurred by your orgasm, intent on chasing another. “Just keep taking it, okay beautiful? I know you can do it.” He pounds you into the mattress, the bed creaking noisily beneath you with each solid thrust, perspiration dripping from his body onto yours. You’re no longer thinking clearly; everything is in a haze, blissful and euphoric, only your husband on your brain. He’s fucked all other thoughts out of you. Has you obsessed with his cock, hungry for his cum, keen on him to breed your fertile womb.

“Fuck, Kento, right there! Right there!” you cry out, grasping his hair between your fingers, pulling him in for a sloppy kiss. 

“Right there, huh?” he teases, slowing his pace to thrust deep into your G-spot, nails digging into the flesh of your hips. “Always taking me so fucking deep.” He grabs your wrist, placing your hand at your clit. “Touch yourself while I fuck you. Squirt on my cock like a good little slut.”

You obey him, flicking your sensitive bud with your middle finger while he watches intently, another orgasm fast approaching. You twitch around him, pleasure overtaking your entire body, sending a rush of ecstasy that has you seeing stars. 

Of course, it still isn’t enough for him. Not after what you put him through earlier. “Turn over,” he mutters, pulling out, cum spilling onto the sheets. “You know what to do.”

He’s right; it’s second nature to you now, to throw your ass back and fuck yourself with his cock. All he has to do is kneel behind you with his hard dick out while you swallow him whole, pumping it in and out of your pussy. It doesn’t matter how pliant you feel, or how fucked out you are, tongue lolling out of your mouth, drool leaking from the sides of your lips. You know exactly what to do to get what you want out of him. 

You can feign innocence all you want, pretend to be shocked when he manhandles you like a fucking rag doll, slamming his hips into you, wet slaps bouncing off the walls of your bedroom. Shrieking when he presses his rough fingers to your swollen clit. Burying your face into the pillow, muffling your shameless moans and shrieks of, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me!” This is what you intended when you spread your legs earlier, phone in your hand, ready to leave that filthy voicemail for him, knowing he’d listen on his way home. Knowing he’d save all his cum for you because you’re ovulating, and he wants more than anything to get you pregnant. Knowing he’d want to fuck you into a frenzy regardless, always desperate to empty his load inside you. It’s what you want because you know he wants it too. That’s what makes it even better, knowing your husband is as feral for you as you are for him. 

“Fuck, I’m close,” he whispers, voice wavering.

Craning your neck to face him, you murmur, “Want to see you.”

He smiles, pulling out, your pussy fluttering around the emptiness, already eager to be filled again. “I want to see you too, my love.” He flips you over, pushing your knees towards your ears into a deeper mating press, kissing you sweetly on the lips. You wrap your arms around him, whining his name into his ear as he fucks you rough, the bed frame precariously shifting with each plunge of his cock. 

“Fuck, I’m coming,” he groans, cock twitching and spurting every hot pulse inside you. “Take all of my cum, sweetheart. All of it,” he mutters, forehead pressed to yours. “I love you. I love you so much.”

When he finishes, he lowers your legs slowly, rolling beside you to cradle you in his arms. You nestle into his chest, listening to his steadying heartbeat. “Are you okay, sweetie?” he asks, massaging small circles into your back.

You nod against him, remaining silent, too drained to even respond with words. He lets you rest like this for a moment before hopping off the bed, stepping into the bathroom, rummaging through the cupboards. Shortly after, he returns to you with a container of baby wipes in hand and a glass of water in the other. 

You’re a mess down there, sleek, wet, and gushing with slick. He kneels beside you, wiping your forehead first from sweat. You peer up at him, smiling, cupping his cheek. “Thank you,” you mouth to him. With another, he cleans your hands, then your legs, always glancing at you to make sure you’re still doing fine. You’re truly grateful for having a spouse as attentive and as caring as your husband, who, despite his typically stoic disposition, always dotes on you so sweetly. 

Done cleaning you up, he traces the outline of your lips with his thumb, saying, “Drink water, honey.”

You grumble at him, pretending to be asleep. He chuckles, leaning in closer for a kiss. “And go pee.”

You peek at him with one eye open, nuzzling your nose to his. “Okay, fine. But after you hold me for one more minute.”

He smiles, sliding his arms around you. “Anything you want, sweetheart. Anything you want.”

[shhhsecretsideblog]

Prompt 17

The woman is on a call with her partner

Prompt: “Are you pushing?”

AN: I really enjoy the trope of a partner rushing home to their labouring wife, driving fast trying not to miss the birth, the sounds of the woman’s labour echoing around their car. But for this, I thought it would be fun to reverse it. Hope it’s just as fun to read this way round. [fpreg, 2915 words]

Almost Home

Answering the phone Jack immediately put it on speaker, placing the device beside his laptop as he worked from home. “Hi honey, how’s the shopping going?”

“Err… yeah. Fine. Got everything I wanted but um…” His wife, Rosie, trailed off. Her voice sounded strained and uncertain. “Do you think you could mmm-maybe log off from w-work this afternoon-?”

“Why, what’s wrong? Are you alright? You sound a bit breathless, well more so than usual.” Jack joked but his eyes narrowed in concern.

“I’m fine it’s just— hoooooo — I don’t think those c-cramps this morning were false con-contractions.”

“What…You’re…in labour?” Jack grabbed his phone and stared at the caller ID in shock. “Okay… errr where are you, still at the mall? I’ll get an Uber and come get you.”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m on my way home now.” Rosie’s voice assured down the line.

“You’re driving… with contractions? Jeeze Rosie.”

“Will you relax, I’m fine. It’s only half an hour away and it’s all straight roads-mnnnhhhhh…” Her voice disappeared into a low groaning sound through the tinned speakers.

“… Rosie?” Jack called her name nervously but only got the sounds of her heavy panting in return. He swallowed the urge to shout at her for driving whilst in labour - it was their first baby and he didn’t want to be the cliche panicking father-to-be. It was probably just early labour pains so instead tried to offer help and support down the phone line.

“Try and breathe through it sweetheart, in and out.”

He could hear the way her voice rattled around the car as she moaned, deep and long, and the sounds of her suffering pulled at his heart. When it was over his wife was back on the phone again.

“Oof!… baby feels really low babe. Can you get our hospital bag ready by the door? We might have to head out pretty quickly.”

“But we don’t need to go to the hospital until the contractions are 5 minutes apart, or if your waters break.”

“Uh-huh.” Was all that his wife replied.

“Rosie… how long have you been having contractions?” Jack sternly asked, knowing his wife and fearing the response.

“Mmnnnnh… well, they’ve not really stopped since the ones this morning. And I guess I was feeling a bit crampy during the night…” Rosie admitted between deep and measured breaths.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I didn't realise they were labour pains, well not at first. But you’ve got that big project at work and we really needed to get this stuff for the nursery so I figured a walk around the mall would help get things moving a bit… Oohhhhhh….it's definitely done that job.” Rosie found herself humming on each exhale as she breathed through the fierce pressure and pain deep in her pelvis.

“Screw the work, Rosie, you should have told me you were having contractions.” Jack scolded, worried and nervous his wife was currently in labour without him.

“Mnnngh— shout at me later, just- just get the bag ready. Hoooooo-fuck..!” She groaned, gripping the steering wheel tight in her fists as another contraction rippled across her belly sending shooting pains up her spine and down her thighs.

Jack slammed his laptop shut and ran through the house trying to remember where they’d put the bag - why was it that you could never remember where you’d put things when you put them in a “safe place”? - all the while keeping his phone gripped in his hand and hearing the sounds of his labouring wife echo out the small speaker. Insisting that he stay on the line, Jack continued to offer words of encouragement and support as Rosie dangerously made her way home. He found the bag in their closet and rifled through the contents to check everything was there before heading downstairs to wait for his wife to return with the car, a journey which at this moment seemed to be dragging on for a lifetime.

“Mngh— thank fuck!” Rosie gruffed.

“What is it?”

“Traffic lights… contraction… Ooooohhhh- mmmnghhhhh….!!” Rosie took her hands off the wheel as she stopped at the lights, holding her rock solid belly in both hands and trying her best to breathe through the waves.

Jack checked the time on his phone, keeping track of the very short gaps between her groans, and hesitantly and reluctantly he said “Honey, they’re sounding awfully close together. Maybe you should stop and call an ambulance?”

“What?! No, I’m f-fine… hoooo…I’m not giving birth without you. I can m-make it h-home…” Despite her words and determination Rosie’s thighs subconsciously widened in her seat.

“Are you sure?” Jack could hear the almost constant low rumblings of a groan coming from his wife, through every breath and every word spoken.

“Nnnghhh— yes. Just… talk to me… keep me distracted… from these- oof!- contractions.” Rosie gruffed and put the car back into drive when the lights turned green and continued her journey home.

Following Rosie’s instructions, Jack started rambling about nonsense; work stuff, friends and family messages he’d received, mindlessly muttering to keep both their focus away from the sounds of pain emanating from his wife every few minutes. He stayed by their front door, looking through the window at the quiet rural street, waiting desperately for the first glimpse of their car.

Rosie meanwhile tried to hang on to every word coming through the car Bluetooth speakers, trying to ignore the pressure in her hips that was getting excruciatingly worse with every passing second. Her legs were spread as wide as they could go in the driver's seat; one squished against the door while the other was pressed against the centre console, her solid bump right up against the wheel. Even with wide legs nothing was relieving the pressure and the wrenching pain pulling her pelvis apart. The groans coming out her mouth were getting longer, deeper, and had started to end with an almost primal grunt. Her sweatpants were already damp from her waters breaking earlier; whilst walking around the shops she had eventually admitted defeat when the contractions had gotten close enough together that she could no longer ignore what was happening, and typically her waters had gone just as she was waddling across the quiet car park.

It was during a deep grunt that Rosie had a panicked realisation that her body had been automatically pushing. “Ohhhhhh… oh no….oh no…” She whimpered quietly, immediately trying to stop the contracting muscles. The car microphone obviously picked up her words for Jack immediately asked what was wrong.

“Nothing… I’m okay… we’re okay. I just have to breathe through it.”

And not push! Rosie thought to herself, gripping the steering wheel and trying to sit more upright in the hopes that if she blocked the baby’s exit that her labour might slow down a bit.

Jack could hear the raw panic in his wife’s voice, making him practically jump off the walls with frustration that he was stuck at the end of a phone and not with her. He knew she was not okay, she was in labour for fucks sake, but there was something else in her tone… He didn’t know what to say… he wanted to press the question, but she was suffering contractions and driving herself home - she didn’t need his frantic questioning as well.

“Remember the breathing we learnt in antenatal class; short, sharp breaths. You can do this Rosie, you are nearly home.” Jack said reassuringly, but he had no idea if that statement was true.

Rosie’s legs were trembling, barely able to keep her foot on the accelerator to keep the car moving. She would not have stood a chance in a manual car. Following her husband's instructions she panted through the contraction but she could feel the baby sinking lower and lower… she tried to squeeze her thighs together, clench anything that would stop this baby’s progress but everything she tried just made the pressure worse. It was torture, fighting against her body’s primal urge. She needed to push, her body screamed at her to bear down, her baby apparently desperate to be born. Sweat rolled down the back of her neck as she baulked against her instincts, her tight belly was radiating heat like a furnace and she wanted to turn up the air conditioning but daren’t take her hands off the wheel. Her tight grip was the only thing keeping things together, her fingers digging deep into the leather keeping her laser focused on the journey.

Two more contractions passed with that excruciating pressure, the gaps between almost non-existent. The baby’s head was right between her thighs, she could feel it, bulging obscenely into her underwear. Her upright position was agony, feeling like she was practically sitting on the baby’s head. With the next contraction her body slumped, acting without any instruction, trying to relieve the pressure that was bringing tears to her eyes. The pain and pressure was rising up and up and Rosie had no choice but to push with the barrelling force, grunting and widening her legs in the process.

“…Rosie…?” Jack’s concerned voice whispered out the speakers.

She opened her mouth to reply but her body had other ideas and all that came out was a lowing groan as her body bore down against the solid mass in her cervix.

“Are you pushing?!” Jack yelled down the phone.

“Mnghh-trying-not-to- ughhh! Oh fuck!” She gasped.

“Stop! Don’t push. You can’t be pushing now!”

“Try telling our b-baby that— ooohhhhh mmnghhhhhhhh!!” Rosie gripped the steering wheel and sank into the seat, uncontrollably bearing down.

“Rosie pull over, the baby is coming now.”

“Mnnnghh… no! It’s not c-crowning… I can hold it -hooo- in… I’m just down the r-road…” The baby was right at her entrance, her labia bulging and sore against her clothing, but she could make it. She was so close to home.

“For fucks sake Rosie.”

“Oh Jack!” Rosie suddenly cried, her body still bearing down even without her help and she felt her lips start to part. “The head… I think it’s coming - grrrhhhhh— out!! … I’m— I’m trying not to push but I can’t stop it— grhhhhhhh oh god!!!”

“Rosie, stop the damn car!!!” Jack screamed down the phone.

The labouring woman’s foot had come off the pedal already, the car rolling along the quiet rural street. She should brake and safely stop the car, but she wasn’t in control of her body - it was too busy pushing against the heavy boulder in her vagina. The car thankfully slowed to a stop at the side of the road and in between frantic pushes Rosie managed to put the car into “park”.

“Ooohhh Jack… I can feel the head…” she cried out as the round shape pushed against her folds. Rosie tried to lift her knees, to make more space, but the steering wheel blocked any real movement.

“Have your waters broken hun?” Jack’s voice was strained in his attempt to stay calm.

“Nnghh…they-broke-at-the-mall-mmmghhhh…!” Gritting her teeth Rosie disappears into another deep and primal push, her body taking charge determined to get this baby out.

“Fuck. Okay… honey I need you to listen to me; I need you to try and see how much of the baby has come out. Can you do that?”

Rosie panted and nodded her head, forgetting for a moment that Jack couldn’t see her. “…yeah. I’ll try…” she added.

Knowing that removing her clothing wasn’t an option in this position, Rosie moved a nervous hand around her big belly between her spread thighs and felt the clear shape of the top of the baby's head through her leggings.

“It’s poking out a bit but— hooohooo- it’s not fully out yet.” She whimpered and sobbed, the realisation of her situation hitting her full force with the first contact with her baby. She was trapped in her car at the side of a road giving birth.

“Where are you babes? I’m gonna call an ambulance.” Jack's heart was breaking, not only for missing the birth of his child but also not being there to support his soul mate during all this.

“At-the end- of our road… oh Jack,” she whined with fear and tears “I need you. I can’t do this.” Her chest heaved with her rapid breathing, the pressure was overwhelming and her labia was on fire.

Jack flew out of the house so fast he didn’t even shut the front door behind him when he sped down the street, running. “Just hold on Rosie, I’m coming.” He panted down the phone, his legs burning with the sudden physical movement.

“Ohhhh the baby’s coming… I need to push again— ughh…no…have to pushhhh but— mmmnnnghhh!!!— not enough room! ” Rosie was panicking, her legs were as wide as she could get them in the driver's seat but it wasn’t enough to make space for the emerging baby. Her body was too upright, her belly too squished, her legs too close for the large head to get through her birth canal.

“I can see the car Rosie, I’m coming, hold on just a little bit longer.”

“Mnnghhhhh!!!!” Rosie was completely lost to another uncontrollable bout of pushing. When the contraction waned, enough to somewhat control the urge, Rosie threw open the car door and swung her legs out immediately. “Hoooo-hooo… baby hang on just a minute… just give me one minute…ohhhh”

Awkwardly and cumbersomely Rosie managed to pull her body out of the low car seat, gripping the car door and heaving her labouring body to stand. The weight in her womb suddenly dropped even lower, the head pressing against her opening and stretching her lips wider than she thought possible, the baby fully crowning between her legs. “Ohhhhhhhh…shit!!.” She turned around and braced against the door as the baby’s movements prompted another contraction. Before she could take a breath her body was already bearing down and her knees widened and trembled. The car was still running, the phone call with her husband still connected, but she couldn’t speak. All that she could think was getting this baby out and getting it out right-fucking-now.

A long animalistic grunting sound came out her throat as she dipped into a deep push. The baby’s head was slipping beyond the crown into her clothing, pushing against her maternity leggings and bulging it down. A gasp, a desperate gulp of air, was all she was given before she was pushing again giving it everything she had.

If the car wasn’t already in Jack’s eyesight, Rosie’s loud roar would have told the anxious father exactly where his wife was at that moment. He watched her pull herself out the car, her face flushed and exhausted, her hair limp and damp on her shoulders. He thought she must have seen him, and was getting out to get to him, but when she turned around and grunted deeply Jack almost froze in fear. This was really happening, their baby was actually coming, here and now. The car door blocked the view of his labouring wife but her cries echoed down the country road and he could see her body dipping down and bouncing back up. She was pushing, that much was evident, but he was panicked at what he'd find when he’d reach her.

“Rosie!!” Jack shouted as he approached. She turned, tears falling from her cheeks, but her eyes widened with relief for a split second when she saw him. Her mouth opened to shout back but instead the relieved look in her eyes vanished and another groan spilled from her lips as she clasped back on to the car door and pushed again uncontrollably.

Jack could see her body was trembling from head to toe with the strain, and when he passed the open car door he could see why - there was a giant round shape pulling at the crotch of her leggings.

“Jack— the head— hooooo I think it’s out…” Rosie panted, still clinging onto the vehicle for dear life.

“Oh my god. Oh Rosie…” words failed him and his arms went around her back.

“Get them off! Get my leggings off!” She growled through clenched teeth.

“Right… errr of course.” Jack stuttered, completely lost and uncertain. He pulled the clothing down over his wife’s hips and was immediately greeted with the face of his newborn child. “You’re right, heads out I can see them! Oh my gosh hi baby!”

“Mmnngh— Jack… is there a chord? Round the neck?” Rosie shifted awkwardly from hip to hip, leggings bunched at her knees, as she felt the start of the next contraction coming.

“I— I don’t think so. How do I check?”

“Can you see anything— wrapped around the neck?? Ohhhhhh hurry… there’s so much pressure… I’m trying really hard not to push…” Rosie balled her fists and dug her nails into her palms.

“No… nothing is round the neck.” Jack confirmed.

“Ohhhh great. Get— hoooo get ready to c-catch!!…” Rosie warned before taking a gulp of air and clamping her mouth shut as she pushed. Her hips dropped and knees bent, almost into a squat, with the force of her push. She tried to open herself as much as she could, the shoulders pressing against her opening. “Mnnnghhhh— come on baby…!!!” She cried and bore down, growling with the effort and eventually feeling the baby move downwards. “It’s coming— out!!!”

With a gush of fluid the baby slipped from Rosie into Jack’s awaiting hands and immediately gurgled a soft cry.

[idontknowanyonesblog]

I’m not talking to you. Pt.1

Bumblebee x reader (Reader is mentioned as a girl once I think but other than that it’s mostly gn)

When you take your car to pick up a guy on a date, Bumblebee starts to act up. You decide to give him the silent treatment for ruining your chances and night until you realize that you really do need him

There’s probably bad grammar in this cus im not the best at things like that

You practically jumped out of your bed when a guy from your science class asked you out. You two were paired for a project a few weeks ago and became friends which you were really happy about. He was cute, smart and funny, what more could you want? You told him that you’d pick him up at his place and drive to a local restaurant to grad dinner. You got ready in a pretty outfit and went to your garage to get your car. That pretty yellow and black Camaro in amazing condition, just waiting for you in the garage. “She looks just like a dream~

The prettiest girl I’ve ever seen!”

The car radio buzzed and the engine revved. A small blush tinted your cheeks as you patted the hood of the car. “Thank you Bee, so you’ll never guess what just happened! I’m going on a date with this super cute guy from my science class!” You smiled cheerfully but your smile quickly fell as the car shut off. What the hell? Bumblebee never did that to you so why would he randomly do it now? “Oh don’t be like that Bumblebee. Anyway I gotta hurry so please just be good…” You asked him in a pleading voice. After a few seconds the engine turned back on and the driver side door opened. you smiled again and quickly hopped in. He backed out of the garage quickly and sped down the rode, a lot faster than the speed limit on your street was. You grabbed the steering wheel tightly. “Jesus Christ Bee slow down!” You said in nervous voice. The last thing Bumblebee wanted to do was hurt you so he did slow down a bit. You gave him the address to drive to so that’s where he went. It took a bit longer than you thought but you could’ve sworn Bumblebee did a few circles around some neighbourhood’s. Once you got to the guys place you told Bee to be normal. The passenger door opened and a tall guy with brown hair and glasses sat down beside you.

“Hi Oliver! Sorry it took so long I uh…got a bit lost on the way here.” You said that last part with a bit on annoyance as you looked at the car radio with a warning glance. “Don’t worry about it, your car is uh…kinda old fashioned don’t you think? I mean it’s nice but I’m more into modern things.” Oh god. You prayed to the heavens with all your faith that Bumblebee wouldn’t act up because of that comment but unfortunately not all prayers can be answered. The passenger seat jerked forward and the radio made a loud static sound. The engine rumbled before the car aggressively reversed out of the driveway. You gripped the steering wheel with all your strength before turning to look at Oliver. “I’m so sorry! My cars been acting up super weirdly lately, I’m taking it in the get it serviced soon.” You apologized to the poor boy and gritted your teeth. “It’s fine, things happen so don’t worry.” Oliver said back to you and gave you a nervous smile. The drive to the restaurant was decent except that every time Oliver complemented you his seat jerked back or forward aggressively. The dinner itself went well, the food was good and the conversation was great. He was a nice guy with a good personality. On the ride home the stereo kept turning off and on and his seat was acting up more often. You thanked God his house was now a block away cus if this guy kept talking to you, Bumblebee would’ve crashed himself just to shut Oliver up. Once you got back to Oliver’s place, he kissed your cheek and went to kiss you on the lips before the car horn honked loudly. He jumped back and chuckled awkwardly before saying his goodbyes.

The drive back to your house was well…silent. Bumblebee didn’t dare make a peep when he noticed how furious you really were. As you drove out of town towards your house you spotted an old junkyard. “Pull over into the junkyard. Now.” Were your only words. He did just as asked without hesitation. Once he parked you got up and slammed the door shut before standing in front of the car and crossing your arms. “Well, go on. Transform, there’s no one here except for me and you.” You said in an irritated tone as he began to transform into his normal self. He looked a bit guilty and embarrassed as he looked at the ground and then at you. “What the hell is your problem Bee!? I had a HIGH chances with that guy, VERY VERY VERY HIGH CHANCES! And you blew it! God damn it Bee, I just- I don’t know what to do with you anymore!” You began to yell at him, your anger rising higher by the second. “Sorry *static* I didn’t *static* mean it-“ His radio buzzed out as you looked at you with puppy dog eyes. He made a sad little wiring sound as he looked down at you. Your expression slightly softened as you say how guilty he looked. A small sigh left your lips as you pinched the bridge of your nose. “Just please take me back home…” You mumbled before he turned back into his car form and opened the door for you to get in. The entire ride home was silent exercised for soft radio static in the background and occasionally his radio picking up nearby channels for a moment and then cutting out once more.

When you got home you just went upstairs without a word. The next day Bumblebee didn’t see you at all, and the day after that, and the day after that. It had been 3 days now since you talked to Bumblebee and in that 3 days Oliver kept talking to you and complementing you until you found out he was also talking to multiple other girls. What an asshole, you were more angry than sad but tears still welled in your eyes as you found this out. You decided to suck it up and finally go and talk to Bumblebee, he always knew what to do and you owed each other an apology. “Hey Bee…I’m really sorry for yelling at you, I shouldn’t have done that I was just so upset and it wasn’t worth it because in the end that guy is a stupid jerk cus I found out he’s been talking to other girls this whole time and-“ The more you rambled on about everything the more heart broken Bumblebee felt. How could someone do that to you? Finally he transformed into his robot form and kneeled down to you. You ran into him and hugged him as tightly as possibly and he gently hugged you back. “I’m sorry too *static* I shouldn’t have *static* done that.” His radio crackled out. For the next little while you opened up about a lot of things and he listened to everything you had to say. As much as he wanted to confess his feelings, he knew this wouldn’t be the best time to do it so maybe he’ll do to soon…

Thanks for reading and thanks for all your guys support I really appreciate it❤️

Part.2 where bumblebee confesses to reader will be coming soon and it’ll probably be a lot shorter than this.

[oneforthemunny]

friday the thirteenth |eddie munson x reader|

prompt: you and eddie go to the drive in. a small blurb that's apart of the oneforthemunny's spooky story series! also eddie edit made possible by @eddiemunsonsmum :)

Friday, October 13th, 1989 

“Hey, make sure you hide those snacks, ok?” Eddie muttered, a ringed hand gripping the wheel, blowing smoke out the open window.

“I don’t think they’ll all fit in the glove box.” You frown, shoving the crinkling wrappers of honey buns and kit-kat under miscellaneous papers, a few lighters that were stored away in there. 

“Just put ‘em under the blanket, sweetheart.” Eddie nodded, flicking the cigarette out the window, arm craning behind him for the blankets you’d thrown in from home. 

“They won’t look?” Your eyes cut to Eddie’s carefully, grabbing the aged quilt from his grasp. 

“No, they’re not gonna search the van, baby.” Eddie grinned. “Just look in. Just make sure it’s covered, alright?” 

Undoing your own seatbelt, spreading the blanket over the snacks, feet tucked under your legs. Eddie tapped on the cracked leather of the steering wheel with excitement, rolling to a stop on the gravel behind the line of cars. “I’m so fuckin’ excited.” He admitted, eyes sparkling through the gloom dullness of the gray Indiana sky. 

“Yeah?” You giggle. His smile was infectious, made your heart warm with an overwhelming sense of adoration. “I can tell.” 

“This was a good idea. Coming early, because look at this line, babe.” Eddie tilted the rearview mirror to look at the piling line of cars behind him. All swarming to the Hawkins Drive-In for the double feature of Halloween and Friday the Thirteenth… on Friday the thirteenth. 

“Good call with that.” Eddie smiled over at you, heat spilling over your cheeks at his praise. Eddie’s hand fell on your thigh lightly, squeezing your thigh playfully.

 “Oh, shit. Look at that guy. Shoulda brought my mask, huh?” Eddie nodded towards the teenagers parked in the back, running around in their Jason and Michael masks. 

“Yeah… maybe don’t park over there, though.” You cut your eyes at the teenagers, screeching and jumping off their tailgates. 

“Why?” Eddie smirked, van rolling in line slowly towards the ticket stand. “You scared? Afraid they’ll get you-” 

“-No-” 

“-Because I get it, babe. It is Friday the thirteenth. It’s a very scary night. I’d be scared too.” Eddie teased. 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re scared, Munson?” 

“Maybe. Maybe ‘m just excited.” Eddie smirked, long lashes batting at you sweetly. The van creeped towards the ticket stand. “I wasn’t gonna park there anyways, but they did take my spot, fuckin’ assholes.” 

“Your spot?” Your brows lifted in amusement. 

“Yeah, good makeout spot.” Eddie smirked at your scoff, stopping in front of the ticket stand. 

Your head rested against the seat rest, Eddie’s curls illuminated in the bright light of the ticket stand. Rings catching in the light when he handed them the money, bracelets peeking out from the leather of his jacket when he took the tickets. He looked so pretty; so content. 

“Can you put it on the station?” Eddie muttered, shifting gears so the van rolled with a low grunt over the gravel. “You wanna be more towards the front?” 

“I’m fine wherever, Ed.” You hum, turning the dial slowly. “You’re the expert, right, baby?” 

A huff of a laugh left his lips, curling in a small smile. “Yeah. Think there’s a spot up here if this jackass in a wagon doesn’t take it- Christ, who’s taking kids to this kind of movie? Fuck that, we’re not going there. I’m not listening to screaming the whole time.” 

“Maybe they’re older kids?” You grin, the comical tune of the pre-movie show tune playing through the speakers. “Or could be big horror fans. You didn’t like scary movies as a kid?” 

“Yeah, but it’s not fun going with your parents.” Eddie rolled his eyes, reversing into a back spot slowly. “Gotta sneak it or it’s not fun.” 

“Like the candy, hm? That’s the thrill of it?” 

“Exactly.” Eddie smirked, jamming the gear to park. 

“Shit, this part is good, baby. Look.” Eddie whispered, lips still pressed to yours, hand sliding from your jaw slowly. 

“I don’t wanna look, just-” You pawed at his jacket collar, pulling him closer, back into your kiss. 

“-Wait, wait, this is the good part. Hold on.” Eddie muttered, eyes zoned in onto the screen, sitting back onto the van’s floor. 

You huffed, pushing up on your forearms to look at the screen, lips numb from the cold air and Eddie, just in time to see Michael Myers take a victim- a brutal slashing that had the entire lot grimacing out loud. 

“Oh, that’s fucking sick.” You cringe, looking at the van’s floor instead of the movie, stomach twisting uncomfortable. 

“Very fuckin’ sick. Wonder how they do that, huh? Like the special effects shit like that.” Eddie grinned, body buzzing with adrenaline and excitement. 

“I don’t know. They better have won whatever award there is for that, because that,” You nodded towards the screen, the dismembered, bloody body lying there. “Is disgusting.” 

“Wait until you see Jason’s victims. Makes Michael look tame.” Eddie grinned, head falling against the pillow, shoveling a handful of popcorn into his mouth. “Can’t believe you’ve never seen these.” 

“No way.” You wrinkle your nose at the screen. “More of a Beetlejuice fan or Elvira. I always liked that movie.”

“Yeah? Me too.” Eddie smirked. “Really liked that one.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Of course, you did.” 

“I like a spooky babe. Can you blame me?” Eddie pulled you close to his side, lips smacking against your cheek. 

“Oh? So you don’t like me, huh?” You glare at him lightly. “Just wasting my time, Munson?” 

“No way.” Eddie shook his head, looking over at you. “You’re a total spooky babe.” 

You roll your eyes, scoffing lightly. “‘M serious.” Eddie squeezes your thigh gently. “You’re doing this with me.” He nodded towards the screen. “Yeah.” You hum, eyes cutting to the screen, grimacing at the chase scene. “Guess I must love you or something to sit through two of these.”

[gunnerfc]

Roles Reversed | Katie McCabe x Arsenal Reader (18+)

Summary: You take Katie's mind of getting a red card

Warnings: a tad bit angsty in the beginning, bottom katie, top reader, oral (katie receiving)

WC: 1.7K

AN: this is technically part 2 to ‘consequences’ but you don't *need* to read it first!

You watched from the bench as the ref held up a yellow card directed towards Katie before she pulled a red card from her pocket. It was Katie’s second yellow of the night, meaning she was sent off for the remainder of the match. You could see her jaw clench as she made her way off the pitch, knowing the second yellow card was not warranted. 

You wanted to follow after her to comfort her but you knew it was better for her to cool down on her own before you talked. Your mind stayed only on Katie for the next twenty minutes, the game long forgotten despite still happening in front of you. The second the ref blew her whistle, you quickly shook hands with the United players and headed down the tunnel. 

You took a small breath before pushing the locker room door open, your eyes falling to Katie who was sitting in her cubby. She didn’t bother changing out of her kit or showering, the soft tackle and the ref’s cards still playing in her mind. You took soft steps toward her, doing your best not to scare her. 

“Babe…,” you mumbled softly as you sat next to her. She lifted her head slightly at your voice but she didnt respond.

“I’m sure the club can argue against the red so you won’t have to miss any games,” you tried to reassure her, your hand grabbing her as you spoke.

Katie pulled her hand from yours and without saying anything stood to grab her things to take a shower. You watched her walk away with a sigh, you knew this incident would bother her for a while. She’d only ever had one red card in her career and getting another wouldn't help how some people thought about her. 

You sighed once more as you got your things to take a shower, your mind racing with different ways to take Katie’s mind off the game altogether. Katie has, on many occasions, distracted you with different things in the bedroom. Maybe finally taking control in the bedroom would provide a good enough distraction and prove to her you can be more dominant after she said you couldn’t.

You could hear your teammates as they entered the locker room, a chorus of ‘Kyra NO!’ gave them away. You shook your head lightly as you finished your shower, quickly getting dressed before making your way back into the main locker room. Katie had finished before you and was sitting in her spot once more as she waited for you. She wordlessly stood from her spot as you finished up, a silent ask for you to hurry up. 

She didn’t bother saying goodnight to your teammates as she headed for your car, your teammates throwing you understanding looks as you said goodnight for both of you. Katie already had the car running when you joined her and she was quick to leave the parking lot once you were buckled up. 

The car ride home was quiet minus the light music from the radio, and neither of you made any effort to speak. You turned your head slightly in her direction, your eyes landing on her still-clenched jaw before they dropped to her tight grip on the steering wheel. You wanted to tell her it was just a card but you knew it meant more to her than that so you kept your thoughts to yourself. 

You were grateful when she pulled up to your place, the tension in the car was starting to get to you. You were both quick to exit the car, Katie grabbing both of your bags as you headed inside. The defender tossed the bags to the floor to be dealt with in the morning before heading to the living room. She sighed deeply as she dropped to the couch, her arms crossing as she tilted her up to stare at the ceiling. 

You joined her after a minute, putting a small amount of space between the two of you as you stared at her. You waited for her to speak but after a few silent moments, you could tell that wasn’t going to happen. 

“Do you wanna talk about,” you asked quality as you fiddled with your fingers.

“No,” she huffed, her staring contest with the ceiling never wavering. You sighed at her bluntness but slid closer to her, your hand moving to hold hers. 

“Can I take your mind off it,” you asked softly as you leaned in the place a light kiss to her jaw. 

Katie swallowed lightly at the tone of your words, licking her lips before her gaze turned to you. Your eyes locked with hers before you shifted to straddle her lap, both of your hands moving to rest on the sides of her neck. You smirked slightly before leaning to kiss her, both of you breathing deeply into the kiss. 

Katie moved her hands to hold your waist as your lips fought each other, her hands pulling you as close as possible to her. You made out for a few moments before you abruptly pulled away from her, Katie’s chest heaving slightly from the kiss. You moved off her, offering her your hand to pull her off the couch. 

Katie took your hand and let you guide her to your bedroom, her thoughts far from the game as she followed you. You stopped at the end of your bed, dropping her hand as you lifted your shirt from your body. Katie’s eyes immediately dropped to your bare chest, a light groan falling from her lips. 

You raised a brow as you nodded at her shirt and she smirked as she took it off, tossing it to join yours on the floor. You bit back your own smirk, knowing she thought she was in control which was the complete opposite. Your lips were back on hers, your chest pressed against hers as you slipped your tongue into her mouth.

Katie’s hands played with the waistband of your pants but before she could attempt to push them off you, you swatted lightly at her hands. Katie pulled away from you slightly in confusion but all you did was smirk. 

“I said I was gonna take your mind off it. Which means I'm in charge,” you teased, your smirk growing as you spoke.

Katie held back a teasing laugh but when she noticed your seriousness, she quirked an eyebrow but nodded anyway. Your hands moved to pull at the drawstrings of her sweatpants, your fingers teasingly tracing her skin before you pulled away completely. 

You mumbled a small ‘go on’ as you nodded to the bed, waiting for her to lay down before you crawled up the bed slowly. You straddled one of her thighs before leaning down to kiss her once more. You pulled away after a moment, shifting so you could push her pants and underwear down her legs, letting her kick them to the floor. 

You traced random shapes on her thighs as you placed small kisses down her body, moving down to make yourself comfortable between her legs. Katie’s breathing picked up as you kissed up her thighs toward where she needed you most. 

You blew softly against her dripping cunt, a low moan falling from the defender's lips at the cool feeling. You smirked to yourself at the noises your girlfriend was making, liking this side of her that you didn’t see often. You placed a light kiss on her clit, a louder groan escaping her lips. 

You dipped your head slightly, running your tongue through her wet folds as her hips bucked up. You wanted to take your time, determined to distract her and prove her wrong all at the same time. You looked up from between her legs as your tongue thrust inside her, your eyes locking with hers as she tilted her head down to watch you.

“F-fuck,” she groaned as she tilted her head back against the pillows, one of her hands moving to tangle in your hair, pushing you further into her.

You sped up your movements, your arms moving to lock around her thighs to keep them open for you. Your eyes fluttered closed as you tasted her, moaning into her as you kept going. Katie moaned at the vibrations, swear words falling from her lips as she moved her hips in time with your tongue. 

You let her grind against you, holding your head close to her as she fucked herself against your face. You held her thighs tighter as you went down on her, solely focused on bringing her over the edge. 

“Fuck, baby. Just like that,” her hoarse voice filled the room, her praise making you work harder. 

You could tell she was close as her hips stuttered in their movements and you didn’t let up. Katie came all over your mouth with a loud groan, her hips faltering as she let go. You kept your tongue going, helping her ride through her orgasm before pulling away from her. You looked up between her legs, your mouth and chin coated with cum.

Katie’s chest heaved as she stared up at the ceiling and you smirked at her ragged breathing. You moved up her body, your lips meeting hers in a slow, deep kiss. Both of you moaned at the taste of her on your lips. 

You pulled away after a moment when air became an issue, your smirk gracing your face once more. “Seems like I can be in control, wouldn't you say so babe,” you teased, watching as she rolled her eyes.

“It was okay,” she shrugged, though her ragged breathing and the loud moans you pulled from her told a different story.

You laughed sarcastically at her words and before you could process what was happening, your positions were flipped. “Let me show you how to do it right,” Katie teased as her lips landed on your neck, sucking harshly. 

You knew your time in charge was fleeting but you were confident you would be in charge again soon. Katie might be telling jokes to deflect from how much she enjoyed letting you be in charge but you knew she found it hot. You were successful in both things you set out to accomplish but as Katie’s hand traveled down your body, you didn’t care about anything else.

[perpetuallyconfused10]

Drive My Car (1/2)

GIF by rqgnarok Part 2

WARNINGS: None. Just two idiots in love. And maybe Hotch is a little too soft.

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

“Fuck.”

The voice is low enough that you think you’ve imagined him at first, but there he is, standing at the bottom of the stairs leading to his office with one hand pressed to his forehead and staring at the phone in his other like it’s burned him.

“Hotch? Are you alright?”

He turns to look at you, appearing about as startled as you imagine he ever can. “I’m fine,” he says. “I didn’t know you were still here.”

In his defense, you didn’t expect to be here this late either. The others had left the bullpen over an hour ago, having finished their paperwork much before you.

You hold up the culprit for your staying behind, a Use of Force report that had ended up taking a lot longer than planned. “Just finishing up. Are you sure you’re okay?”

The hand on his forehead moves to his hip, and he studies you for a few seconds. Then he sighs. “My car’s in the shop. Jessica was going to bring me home, but Jack’s gotten sick and she doesn’t want to move him from his bed. I’m going to call a cab.”

That explains why he’s leaving so early. You’ve never heard of him leaving before eight or nine.

“Poor kid. That’s never fun,” you say with a wince. “But you’d be lucky, Hotch. It’s seven on a Friday night. Everyone and their mother is calling a cab.”

“It’s quicker than the subway.”

His voice is flat, worried. You make the decision in a second. “Not quick enough. Let me drive you.”

Hotch’s brow furrows as he considers your offer, mentally calculating the distance from your apartment to his. “I couldn’t ask you to do that for me. I’m miles out of your way.”

He’s right. He is miles away, but that doesn’t deter you. As wonderful as Jessica is, from what you’ve heard, you know Jack idolizes Hotch. He’ll want to be with him now.

“I’m not doing it for you,” you say with a smile, knowing you’re about to play your ace. “I’m doing it for Jack, who is sick and should see his father.”

There’s no room to argue with you. Hotch picks up his briefcase and thanks you. With long strides, he leads the way out of the bullpen and towards the garage.

Ten minutes later, find yourself rushing to stack empty to-go-cups and loose papers, shoving them away as Hotch climbs into your car. “It’s no problem, really. Sorry about the mess.”

Hotch shakes his head. His lips are a little less downturned than usual, which in your mind almost constitutes a smile. “Consider it noted,” he says, “We’ll talk during your next performance review.”

Fighting a smile, you can’t help it. You hit his arm. “I take it back. I’m not sorry.”

“It really isn’t a mess,” he says. “And you really shouldn’t be sorry. You should see my car. You can’t move for Jack’s toys.”

You hum, hands gripping the wheel as your reverse out of the spot, “Be careful what you admit around me. You might be my boss, but I can always snitch on you to yours.”

An amused huff is the closest you get to making him laugh, but you take it. He shakes his head. “I’ve had too many uncomfortable conversations with Strauss to bother counting. I’m sure I’ll survive.”

“Not if I have a hand in it.”

Neither of you says anything for a long while after that, and neither mind. What the protocol is for driving your boss home outside of work, you aren’t sure. If there is something in the FBI manual about it, you’re quite sure Hotch knows it – but asking him feels a little on-the-nose, and so you keep quiet and put the radio on.

You’re also sure that there isn’t anything in the FBI manual about what music is appropriate to listen to with your boss in your passenger seat. If there were, you’re certain the songs on at the moment – half of which you vaguely remember Morgan and Garcia dancing to on one of the team’s nights at the bar, and the other of which might be their next choices – don’t make the cut.

Feeling your face heat up, you clear your throat. “I think I have a couple Beatles albums in the glove box if you wanna look for one,” It isn’t so much a suggestion as it is a request — maybe even an order – and you know he senses that. With a nod, he reaches over to open it.

“You’ve got eclectic taste,” Hotch says after a moment, raising an eyebrow at you as he pulls out one of the CDs buried somewhere in the pile. “I didn’t take you for a Mozart fan.”

The corner of his mouth pulls itself into a smirk. It’s the kind reserved for non-working occasions, or, alternatively, occasions that don’t require the wearing of a suit jacket. Like now. Not that you’ve noticed the broad lines of his shoulders in his dress shirt, or the movement of his Adam’s apple as he speaks, more easily seen with the top two buttons undone. And if you have, that’s nobody’s business.

You shrug. “I’m not one, really. Reid likes it.”

For a long second, he looks at you. “You keep a CD in your car for Reid?”

“He doesn’t like the radio. It’s distracting. I don’t particularly like it, either.”

Hotch doesn’t let up, “That’s…very thoughtful of you.”

Keeping your eyes on the road is more of a task than you’d like.

“They’re only a couple dollars. I just buy them when I see them.”

He takes another look in the glove box, grabbing a beaten-down copy of The White Album and pushing it into the player. But before the opening to ‘Back in the USSR’ is even over, he’s pressed pause and shifted in his seat to look at you head-on. Silence stretches between the two of you again. The dull hum of the engine and the rain battering the windows sound, of a sudden, much louder.

“What? You’re making me nervous.”

He is. If becoming skilled in the art of dangerous driving weren’t a side-effect of working with the BAU, you might’ve crashed the car by now.

You chance a look over at him. His expression is set in a frown. Over your short tenure with the team, you’ve fallen witness to enough of what Morgan deems his ‘Hotchner frowns’ (trademark implied) to know that this one is different. There’s something softer about it, more considerate than displeased.

“Those other albums…Sinatra, Radiohead, Stevie Wonder…you’ve barely touched them. Not compared to the others.”

Damn profiler. The stubborn part of you — which was a larger part than you’d like to admit — wanted to ignore him. Even so, you know it’d never work. Hotch is just as stubborn as you are, and worse than that, he is far more patient.

“They’re not my favorites, no, but—” you relent.

Gently, Hotch cuts you off. “No, they’re not. They’re Rossi’s, Prentiss', and Morgan’s. I’m sure you’ve got records in there for JJ and Garcia. And–”

You look down again at your hands where they rest on the wheel. The skin of your knuckles pulls as you tighten your hands around it. In a sigh, you admit it. “—And for you too, yeah.”

He tilts his head. When he speaks, his voice is soft. “Why?”

Retreating into silence again, you turn the corner onto his street. But even off the clock, Hotch’s presence is commanding, his stare on you unassuming and exposing all at once.

You laugh. “Remind me never to end up in an interrogation with you again. You’re terrifying.”

“You haven’t learned enough from them if you’re still deflecting,” he says, ignoring your jibe. Instead he folds his hands in his lap.

You could double down, tell him jokingly to fuck off and then claim that swearing at him is entirely acceptable in non-working circumstances. What it is stopping you from giving him the answer he wants, you’re not sure. This isn’t the office. It’s not neutral ground. This is your car, your territory. Forced out of the context of work, Hotch is no longer just an abstract concept, your hardass of a boss — he’s a real person. Your friend. And something about that pulls at you.

“I had a little trouble adjusting, at first,” you say, stretching the words out until they become unfamiliar things. “More than I’d expected. I knew when I took the job what it’d be like. On paper, at least. But the first few cases…it was another thing to be doing it, you know?”

It’s the truth. The early days, right after you joined the team, were rough. They’d been a constant guessing game of when to speak up and when to keep quiet, when to shove down all of the stress and the fear and the self-loathing and when, if ever, to let yourself feel it.

Hotch stays quiet this time, and you can’t bring yourself to look at him. Was it too honest to admit that? His presence has gone to your head, like wine on a summer evening.

“I never let it affect my work–” you say in a rush, self-preservation instincts in full swing. You stop halfway, let the words wither in your throat.

One of Hotch’s hands twitches as if to reach for you, but retreats at the last seconds, remaining limp in his lap. He hums, his voice a low murmur. “I know that.”

You’ve come this far. Might as well finish this. “We’d come home from a case, and sometimes I’d drive Reid back so he didn’t have to get the subway. We’d drive back to our apartments with the radio on. But the news…”

Hotch sighs, “...Another robbery, another murder. Another thing out of our reach.”

There’s no judgment in his eyes, none of the sharp analysis profiling demands. It hits you again that you aren’t talking with the man that conducts your performance reviews, but the man who rolls his eyes at Reid and Morgan’s bickering, the father who’d drop anything to make his son happy.

A smile feels a little out of your reach as you remember those early months, so you settle for a nod. “I picked up a CD or two after the first couple weeks. Then I found out Reid liked classical music, so I looked for some. And it made sense, if I was giving Morgan or Prentiss or Garcia a ride too. I guess it got a little out of control.”

Hotch shakes his head. “That’s not out of control. It’s kind,” he starts, then stops for a second, his features rearranging themselves into a frown once more. “You know you don't have to do nice things for people to get them to like you, don’t you?”

Eyes widening, you almost think you’ve heard him wrong. “What?”

He tilts his head, his gaze on you soft as you put the car into park in front of his apartment complex. “Maybe you don’t do it anymore, but towards the beginning…I got the feeling you thought you’d have to move mountains to get the team to like you. And you didn’t.”

He’s right. You really had felt alone, for the first few months. You’d done everything you could to make yourself tolerable: memorized Garcia’s miles-long Starbucks order, lied about where you lived to Reid so he didn’t feel guilty about taking a lift from you, nodded along when Morgan told you about his housing projects even though you hadn’t a clue about property development. You’d done it all. And it had worked.

Maybe you hadn’t needed to do it. But over time, obligation had morphed into affection, and you liked to. Hence the music.

“Hotch…”

You’re glad he speaks before you can get any further, because you really have no idea what to say. “I mean it,” he says quietly. “Anyone with sense would do that all on their own.”

“Thank you,” you say, swallowing. “I hope Jack feels better soon.”

“I’ll tell him you said hi. He’ll appreciate it.” he says, checking his watch. “I’d better go check on him. Thank you for driving me back. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nod. “Tomorrow.”

He climbs out of the car, head bowed against the rain, and you wait for him to get inside before you pull away. You’re not mad about the Beatles. The White Album wouldn’t be your pick of their records. But the drive is long, long enough to let yourself think, and you leave it playing until you’re home.

[hopelesslygaysstuff]

50 Shades of Red || Chapter 7

pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff

summary: Natasha drives Wanda home, where she meets Yelena and debriefs with Kate.

content warnings: none

word count: 3k+

masterlist

comments and reblogs are always appreciated! happy reading ♡

Natasha opens the passenger door of a large, black SUV. The windows are tinted, and Wanda glances around for a moment before smiling slightly at the woman and clambering inside. The interior smells like new leather, and the seats are wide and spacious. Wanda watches as Natasha walks around the car, her posture straight and her face impassive. 

Should she mention the kiss? Wanda doesn’t know whether to talk about it or pretend like it didn’t happen. Natasha hasn’t given any sort of clue that she was affected, her face impassive and lipstick firmly in place. Honestly, she could hardly believe it was real. Not to mention, that was her first actual, real kiss. 

Maybe she just imagined the whole thing.

No. Wanda touches her lips with a single, shaky finger. They’re still swollen from the kiss. She can feel the lingering aftershocks of electricity thrumming through her veins at the memory of Natasha’s soft lips pressed against hers. She didn’t imagine anything. Wanda feels like a changed woman. She wants Natasha, and from the woman’s actions, she wants Wanda too. 

The car door opens, and Natasha smoothly slides inside the driver's seat. She tucks in her shirt as she adjusts the mirror slightly, the movements practiced. Glancing out of the corner of her eye, Wanda takes her in. She’s her usual polite, slightly distant self. 

Great, now the whole thing is even more confusing than it was before. 

Starting the engine, Natasha puts the car into reverse and rests her hand on the back of Wanda’s headrest. A hint of cinnamon washes over Wanda, and she hopes she isn’t inhaling too loudly. Natasha’s pose is casual, her eyes vigilant on the road ahead of her. 

Wanda isn’t sure where they’re going, but she finds herself relaxing once the car pulls onto the highway. Natasha turns the radio on, and instrumental jazz fills the car. The volume is low, and the silence isn’t quite as awkward with notes filling the space between them. Feeling the music thrum through her, she listens. 

The harmonies blend together, the somber tone of a trombone filling the speakers before a piano interrupts in a major key. Wanda listens as the mood shifts, the song an emotional rollercoaster as the scenery flies past outside the car. 

“This is really good,” Wanda says, gesturing towards the radio when Natasha looks over. 

A small, pleased smile appears on her face. For a brief moment, the CEO looks her age; young, beautiful, and completely unburdened. Wanda gives a small smile of her own back, wondering if music was the way to Natasha’s true, genuine self.

She’s seized with the urge to know about the woman. To uncover the person beneath the stoic mask. Wanda is positive that she is intricate and complex, and she wants to spend the rest of her life unraveling the threads that made the tapestry of Natasha Romanoff. For now, she can start by understanding the music that moves her.

“Can we listen to that one again?”

“Of course, I’m glad you like it,” Natasha murmurs, pressing a button with a small smile on her lips as the song starts over. “It’s one of my favorites.” 

Wanda is content to listen in silence, and it seems the other woman is too. She glances over, her eyes catching the sight of Natasha’s hand casually gripping the steering wheel. Her other hand rests on the stick, her fingers drumming on it gently. For some reason, the sight sends a pleasant shiver down her spine. 

A ringtone interrupts the jazz, and Natasha hits a button on the steering wheel, her eyebrows furrowed. 

“Romanoff,” she says, her voice hard yet smooth. 

“Ms. Romanoff, it’s Smith. I have the information you were asking for.” A clear voice sounds out over the speakers, with a slight grain to the sound quality. It's jarringly different from the calm melodies that had washed over Wanda mere seconds ago.

“Good. Email it to me. Do you have anything else for me?”

“No ma’am.”

Natasha presses the button again, the call ending as jazz fills the car once more. Wanda blinks at the abruptness, suddenly very glad she hadn’t applied for her internship. She would hate to work with someone so cold towards their employees. Is this how Natasha acts in the office? The music cuts out again, a ringtone sounding out once more. 

“Romanoff.”

“The NDA you requested has been emailed to you, Ms. Romanoff.” A woman’s voice, this time.

“Good. That’s all, Sarah.”

“Good day, ma’am.”

She presses the button again. Jazz plays briefly, before yet another call comes through. Holy shit, is this her life? Just constant phone calls? Wanda doesn’t know if she’d be able to handle it.

“Romanoff,” she snaps. 

“Hey sis, did you get laid?”

“Hello, Yelena. You’re on speaker phone, and I’m not alone in the car,” Natasha lets out a sigh, and Wanda smiles slightly. 

“Who’s there?”

Those green eyes roll, glancing over at Wanda briefly. They flit down her face, resting briefly on her lips before Natasha remembers to answer. 

“Wanda Maximoff.”

“Hi, Wands!”

Wands?

“Hello, Yelena.”

“I’ve heard so much about you,” Yelena murmurs, her voice slightly raspy. Natasha frowns, her eyes glancing again over to her. 

Chuckling, Wanda replies, ”Don’t believe a word Kate says. She’s a filthy liar.”

Low laughter sounds out over the speakers. Wanda can hear Kate in the background saying something, but she can’t quite make out what it is. There’s the sound of a brief, playful scuffle before Natasha clears her throat. 

“I’m dropping Wanda off now,” Natasha emphasizes her name. “Do you want me to pick you up?”

“Sure.”

Wait. Yelena is at her apartment? That means… goddamnit Kate. Wanda hopes she doesn’t find any bodily fluids from a passionate night around the apartment. 

The music turns on again, and Wanda glances over. Natasha is focused on the road, but now she has both hands on the steering wheel, and her knuckles are turning slightly white. Her jaw is clenched slightly, and Wanda admires the sharp edge of it before leaning her arm against the door and leaning her head against her hand, watching the other woman.

“I wouldn’t mind you calling me by a nickname.”

Natasha glances over, her green eyes softer than Wanda would have expected. When she speaks, her voice is warm. “I like your name, so I’m going to use it. It’s a very beautiful name, Wanda.”

Her voice drops lower when she says Wanda’s name. 

The car slows and pulls up to Wanda’s apartment, and she startles for a moment. She realizes that Natasha hadn’t asked her where she lived. How did she… oh.

Right, the books. The woman had tracked her cellphone like some sort of spy, of course she knew where Wanda lived. That, and the fact that her sister was currently in her apartment with her roommate. Wanda made a mental note to deep clean the couch. 

Natasha smoothly steps out of the driver's side, adjusting her shirt as she walks around the car. Flushing at the memory of the CEO’s lips on hers, Wanda wonders briefly if she’ll kiss her again. She would like that. 

Shaking her head slightly, Wanda steels herself. Now was not the time to be acting like some sort of lovesick fool. The image of blonde women in impeccably sharp skirts and neatly tucked blouses flits through her mind, and Wanda frowns. She refused to be yet another generically beautiful woman that Natasha seemed to surround herself with. She deserved more than that. 

Opening the car door, Natasha offers her hand, her fingers reaching out towards Wanda. 

Oh. 

As she takes her hand, Wanda recalls the short, clipped tone that Natasha had spoken to her assistant with. Maybe she was different from the rest. After all, she’d never been offered a hand as she got out of a car before. How chivalrous. 

Natasha’s hand is warm and firm, and her fingers clench around Wanda’s momentarily in indecision. She seems to almost debate with herself for a moment, stuck in limbo as she grasps Wanda’s hand. She doesn’t seem to want to let go, and Wanda hopes that she doesn’t.

She drops Wanda’s hand, her arm instead gracefully reaching around to shut the car door. Momentary disappointment floods Wanda’s thoughts, before the light touch of those same, strong fingers against the small of her back causes an involuntary gasp to escape her trembling lips. 

“Lead the way,” Natasha murmurs, her voice low and eyes warm. 

Wanda feels herself move towards her apartment, her steps as unsure as a newborn fawn while Natasha’s hand provides a steady pressure against her back. Just before reaching the door, her apartment key in hand, Wanda turns. 

Dark green eyes lock with hers, glancing down momentarily before the woman tilts her head in a silent question. The energy between them shifts, becoming charged with something so heady it's almost tangible. 

“I liked what happened in the elevator,” Wanda says, her voice steady. She smiles at the slight widening of Natasha’s eyes before inserting her key and walking into her apartment, the woman following close behind her. 

Ha. Take that Natasha Romanoff, she can flirt too.

Kate and Yelena are seated on the couch, their bodies practically on top of each other as they watch some reality television show. Wanda gets a glimpse of a woman in a two-piece bikini draping herself over a muscled blonde man before her roommate turns the TV off, whirling around in excitement. 

“Hi, Wanda!” Kate leaps up from the couch, hugging Wanda tightly before holding her at arm’s length to examine her. “Wow, last night wasn’t as rough as I thought it was.”

“No,” Wanda laughs, “It was, but I got some new clothes out of it.”

Smiling, Kate opens her mouth to speak again, before remembering who else walked in with her roommate. Turning slightly, she locks eyes with the CEO lingering just behind Wanda. 

“Good morning, Natasha,” she says, her tone bright as she smiles widely. 

“Miss Bishop,” Natasha responds, her voice a bit stiff, as if she isn’t used to speaking to college students, which, Wanda supposes she isn’t. 

“Oh my god, сестра, her name is Kate,” Yelena says, rolling her eyes as she smoothly gets up from her seat. She has a prominent Russian accent, and Wanda finds herself enjoying the sound of it. 

“Kate, then.” Natasha nods politely at her, before glancing at her sister. 

Yelena opens her arms, pulling Wanda in for a brief hug. Her arms are strong, and although she’s short, her posture and strength tell Wanda that she isn’t someone to be messed with. She misses the hardening of Natasha’s eyes and the way she sticks her hands into her pockets to stop from reaching out. 

Kate smiles at the sight, leaning against the couch and watching the interaction.

“Hi, Wands,” Yelena says, smirking slightly. She glances over Wanda’s shoulder, where Natasha is still frowning. “Good to finally meet sober you.”

Wanda likes her immediately and smiles as a chuckle escapes her. “I promise I’m not usually like that. Last night was a… celebration. A rare occasion, if you will.”

“I believe it.”

Clearing her throat, Natasha moves forward, taking her hands out of her pockets. She touches the small of Wanda’s back once more, her tone is apologetic as she speaks. “Yelena, we should probably go.”

“Sure,” she says, turning and pulling Kate into her arms. She kisses her, their lips lingering as the silence stretches on. Kate’s hands make their way to Yelena’s hair, the blonde’s hands tight around her waist as she presses herself fully into her. Wanda looks away, down at her feet. 

God, she never knew what to do when people kissed in front of her. It was so… awkward. Then again, she’d never been a fan of public displays of affection in her own - very short and few - relationships. 

“Bye, малышка,” Yelena murmurs, grinning widely.

Kate melts. “Yeah, um. Haha, uh you too,” She ends her rambling sentence with an awkward finger gun motion, and Wanda shakes her head as she lowers her hands. 

Natasha rolls her eyes, looking over at Wanda with an unreadable expression. The corner of her lips quirk up, as though she’s amused. Maybe she is, but Wanda can’t read her that well yet. One of those hands reaches up, tucking a strand of auburn hair behind Wanda’s ear. 

Hearing her breath hitch, Wanda is painfully aware of the other two people currently in the room, but can’t quite bring herself to care. Natasha’s eyes soften, her hand grazing Wanda’s cheek until her thumb just barely brushes her lower lip. It feels as though her nerves are on fire, but the feather-light touch is gone before Wanda can really process it. 

“Goodbye моя любовь,” she murmurs, a prominent accent shaping the last two words. The words confuse Wanda, and her curiosity burns as she sees Yelena’s mouth fall open slightly from the corner of her eye. 

Wanda decides then and there to start learning Russian. 

“I’ll pick you up at 8.” 

Natasha steps away, jerking her head at her sister as she opens the door to leave. Yelena follows her to the car, turning and blowing Kate a kiss that causes her to blush and wave awkwardly back. Wanda eyes her, raising her eyebrows as a flush appears on Kate’s cheeks. 

The door shuts, instantly blocking the view of the two sisters. Kate turns slowly towards her, eyes wide and lips stretched into a smile. It's contagious, and Wanda can’t help but smile back, her heart rate finally calming and slowing down to a normal pace.

“So… how did it go? Did she fuck you?” Kate asks, jumping on the couch excitedly and pulling Wanda down with her. 

“Why do you assume that she fucked me?

A loud laugh erupts from her roommate, and Wanda just grumbles and crosses her arms over her chest as Kate wipes fake tears from her eyes. “Oh please,” she says in between gasps for air, “You couldn’t top that woman even if you tried. She’s got a dominatrix sort of vibe going for her.”

A vision of Natasha in black leather and sharp heels standing over her flashes through Wanda’s mind for a moment. She locks that thought firmly in the back of her mind, where she can think about it later in the darkness of her own room while her fingers move feverishly under the covers. 

“Well no,” she says, a bit too sharp. “We didn’t… you know.”

“So you just had a sleepover?”

“God, you make it sound so juvenile,” Wanda exhales, her breath pushing thin strands of hair away from her cheeks. She swipes at them, tucking them behind her ear and remembering the heat of Natasha’s fingers against her skin.

“Even if I didn’t get laid, you obviously did,” Wanda turns her gaze to Kate’s face. The brunette is trying to suppress a giddy smile, and failing epically. 

“We totally did,” Kate says, wiggling her eyebrows. “We did it in the car, and in my room, and over the counter, and on this…”

“Stop!” Wanda covers her ears, swatting at Kate as her shoulders heave in laughter. “I don’t want to hear any more about it, spare me the explicit details.”

“And I’m seeing her again tonight!” Kate exclaims, clapping her hands and bouncing slightly on the couch. She can’t contain her excited energy, and Wanda can’t help but feel happy for her. 

“Natasha is taking me to Seattle tonight,” Wanda says, regretting it slightly as Kate’s excited eyes turn towards her. She leans forward, her hands grabbing Wanda’s tightly.

“Seattle?”

“Yes.”

“Will she fuck you then?”

“God,” Wanda can’t help the laugh that spews out of her. “I really fucking hope so.”

“Oh, so you like her then?”

“Obviously. What’s not to like?”

“No, what I mean is. You like her enough to let her fuck you?”

“Yes.”

Kate leans back, her eyes wide and an astonished look falling across her face. “I never thought I would see the day,” she shakes her head slightly. “Wanda Maximoff falling for someone, and it’s Natasha Romanoff the hot, sexy, dominatrix billionaire.”

“Oh please,” Wanda giggles. “Stop with the dominatrix bit, I’m going to start to believe it's true. Besides, maybe I’m just using her for her money.”

Kate glances at her before they both fall into a fit of laughter. “Jeez Wands, you can’t even joke about that. I’ve seen the way you look at her. You’re falling for her already.”

“I know,” Wanda says, her voice soft. She can’t get rid of the small smile on her face. 

“Has she at least kissed you?”

“Once,” Wanda says, and that’s all she offers. 

She wants more. She knows that much, but she can’t help but wonder why Natasha hasn’t kissed her again. Maybe she didn’t want to? Maybe Wanda was just a really bad kisser, and now she’d ruined any chance she had with the woman. 

“We’re going to make you absolutely irresistible this evening,” Kate exclaims, standing and pulling Wanda towards the bathroom. “And we’re going to start with a shower. I want everything scrubbed and shaved. She’ll have to kiss you again once you put in a bit of effort into your appearance.”

Stopping outside the bathroom door, Kate’s expression softens when she sees Wanda’s face. “Hey, listen,” Kate grabs Wanda’s hands again, locking eyes with her. “You’re incredibly attractive, anyone can see that. You’re also really kind and smart and now you have a degree. I can’t tell you how many people I know that have a crush on you. You. Can. Do. This.”

“Kate I-”

Shaking her head, Kate pushes Wanda into the bathroom. “If Natasha Romanoff can’t see what’s right in front of her, then she’s a fool.”

The door closes behind her, and Wanda lets vanilla shampoo and warm water take over her thoughts. She pushes any doubts out of her mind, instead focusing on remembering the way Natasha’s lips felt against hers, the woman’s strong body pinning her to the elevator. There had been no hesitance on her part, and Wanda clings to that as she prepares herself for the date later tonight. 

A thought hits her, and Wanda feels momentary panic as she remembers what Natasha had planned for her. God, Kate was going to freak out. 

What does one wear for a helicopter ride?

Next Chapter

---

Dm or comment to be added!

Taglist: @alexawynters @msvenablesbitch @marilynthornhilllover @lifespectator @milkeeteaa @imnotawitch @marvels--slut @justabrokensunshine @dorabledewdroop @wandsmxmff @esposadejoyhuerta @captivepotato @justarandomreaderxoxo @godhatesgoodgirls @snowdrop1026 @maximoffmorale @noturlondonboy @wandaspuppy @xenaizogie @imjustvibingsworld @tobiaslut @subby-lesbian @xenaizogie @sxlfishbrokenheart @huggingkoalas @deliriosinrose @godhatesgoodgirls @yeetus-thyself @wizardofstories

[peace-for-levi]

Masterlist

just thinking about Nanami being so patient with you when you’re learning how to drive??? like he’d take you out as often as possible to practice manoeuvres with you (like reversing around a corner, or three-point turns, etc.) no sassiness, no berating when you make silly mistakes. but also being there for you constantly and reassuring you that you’re not going to hurt him or anyone else when you’re behind the wheel like UGH

he’s just the best SO. i love him sm fuck you gege !!!!! so i got to writing. not my best work considering i pumped this out within 15 mins but it is meant to be a drabble more than anything

He’s standing outside the test centre, waiting for you to come out. He’s holding a bouquet, hiding it behind. He doesn’t care about the result, the flowers are for the fact that you tried your best. Shades of amber and rose shine through the cirrus clouds, and he sincerely hopes this joyous and beautiful evening will be reflective of your mood in a few minutes. Though he tells himself he doesn’t care if you pass or not, he already knows you have. He was following you a few cars back, trying to not distract you but also observing you from afar.

Just a few nights ago, he suggested you two go out for a drive and see how you got on. Would you remember everything? Unfortunately, you panicked after a few mistakes that you couldn;t let go of, and after an hour of driving, you had to pull in.

A hand snaked towards your thigh, resting there. You were shaking and breathing heavily. Your fingers spread and you were pulling at the fat of your cheeks in dread; in terror. You stared down the street, eyes as wide as plates. You were imagining every possible scenario that could have unfolded from every mistake.

He wished he could take this dread away, but he knows that anxiety when learning to drive is perfectly normal. But you were just so, so tired of depending on him for lifts home for work.

But Nanami didn’t mind – in fact, he loved it – driving you home from work. Not when the highschool and your office were so close. It only ever felt like a minor pitstop on the way home.

“Sweetheart, it’s okay. Mistakes happen,” he assures you, with his hand firmly gripping the handbrake.

“Ken, you don’t get it! I can’t make mistakes when driving – not when mistakes can kill someone!”

At the time, he sighed and took over. He drove the two of you home, not knowing how (or if) he could comfort you. Not when you were so wound up over this test. You probably weren’t going to feel calm behind the wheel until you passed your test.

He did say the following: to breathe. And that your anxiety would be your greatest downfall during a driving test.

So now, he just had to play the dreaded waiting game. He even let Yaga and Gojo know that he was leaving work early, just to be sure he could meet you in time.

Flowers in hand, he checks his watch. He hears the door open from the centre and he is walking over slowly. Your figure emerges slowly, and he can practically see the rain cloud hanging over your head. You stop momentarily, seeing the not-so-subtle bouquet. He takes you into his arms faster than you register. He leans down and presses his lips to your forehead, followed by a ruffle to your hair.

“Kento… I, uh… I–”

“Shh. Darling, don’t give me that look… Just know that I am happy you even attempted the test in the first place.” He pulls back and notices that you’re smiling. “Oh, for god’s sake, you–”

“I’m sad because I look horrendous in my licence! My full licence, not just learner!” You cheered. You excitedly spun around, flashing the piece of plastic before leaping back into his arms. “Thank you for your patience, Kento.”

He hugged you tighter, a warm smile spreading over his lips. Delighted your anxiety didn’t get in the way, delighted you remembered to breathe and simply happy that you took this leap of faith and did your best.

He took a peek down at your licence and smiled fondly. “If it makes you sad, can you ask to retake it? But for what it’s worth, I think you look nice in it.”

You elbowed him in the side. “Charmer,” you said with a grin.

“Guilty as charged.”

i have horrible driving anxiety, and my test is in six weeks. this drabble/word vomit is me projecting and wanting nanami to hold me afterwards LOL help me i need to be sedated

[brisingr-sword]

juno steel and the view between villages… returning to hyperion city, and at first, juno’s only seeing the similarities to who he used to be (“i’m seventeen again” “the car’s in reverse, i’m gripping the wheel”).

except he’s not the same. he’s so far from being that kid in old town, being that heartbroken young lady, being that angry and depressed and self-hating investigator (“a minute from home, but i feel so far from it”), and more importantly, juno has found peace with himself and where he is (“and there is meaning on earth, i am happy”, “i’m back between villages and everything’s still”).

[idunnoanymore7]

Driving Lessons

Description: You have a car and freedom. All you want is Lip.

Content: lip gallagher x fem!reader (always let me know if i can make it more accessible!), friends to lovers, oral fem!recieving, piv, protected sex, dirty talk

Authors Note: I just started season 2 (i know i’m ten years behind but) and thought I should fish this out of my notes. And it got long, sorry. Hope you enjoy!

—————————————————————

“So…when I finally figure this out, will you suck me off while I drive?”

You pfffed and narrowly stopped yourself from laughing. “No, I don’t think I will,” you said, a grin on your face.

“Whatttt why? It’s what they do in the movies!” he said, pretending to be irritated, but the slope of his smile told you he didn’t mean it.

Now you were laughing, your chest shaking as your head fell sideways against the seat. 

“Oh my god Lip thats so fucking dangerous,” you said. “And also, no thanks.”

“Oh come on n/n, you’re saying you wouldn’t want me to eat you out in the drivers seat?”

You tried to hide your reaction, but you couldn’t. You would like that very much, and he could see it. “Well, uh-“

“I knew it,” he said, that fucking grin staying on his face even as you stumbled your way through a sentence to show him the way the headlights turned on and off. He liked the way he had that effect on you. 

“Do you want to drive around?” You asked. 

“Are you sure you trust me to drive your car?” he said.

“Yeah; of course,” you replied, even though your common sense was screaming at you to say the opposite. You were a dumbass for Lip and the way he held his cigarettes. “Just put it in reverse-“

The car yanked back, shoving you against your seat.

“Fuck fuck sorry,” he said, shoving his foot on the brake. 

You smiled and he seemed relieved. “It’s ok, I do that all the time. You go right to get out of the lot, and then you can drive wherever you want. Maybe not the highway, though.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, maybe not.”

He turned the wheel and you were distracted by the shine of the silver rings on his fingers, but still noticed the grip of his hands on the leather of the wheel. 

“Are you okay?” you inquired.

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re gripping the wheel pretty tight-if you don’t want to do this we don’t have to.”

“No no I do,” he said. “I want to drive…”

“We can wait until you’re comfortable-I can drive us around for now?” you asked.

He seemed to relax, and when he nodded you unbuckled and got out of the passenger seat to walk around the front. 

He opened the drivers door just as you reached it, and it hit you right in the ribs.

“Ugh!” 

“Shit fuck fuck I’m so sorry are you okay?!” Lip said frantically as he rushed toward you and brushed his hand softly across your impacted side. 

“Yeah yeah I’m fine,” you said. Instinctively, you held onto his shoulder as you tried to catch your breath.

Neither of you stepped away. Just breathing, exhales bringing your chests close. When a chill ran up your back and made you shiver, you broke apart and climbed into the car. You weren’t sure whether you had imagined his hand brushing your back.

You hadn’t. Lip steadied you and made sure you got in before he walked around and pulled out a cigarette and lighter. He leaned his hip against the passenger door as he cupped the flame against the joint. 

Feeling eyes on him, he looked up and caught you staring at him through the window. You snapped your head forward. 

You didn’t have a plan as you pulled out into the road. Lip lowered his window, taking puffs and dangling his hand outside. It made it hard to keep your eyes forward.

You had just passed an alley and were starting to rack your brain for something to say when he spoke up.

“That’s where I was walking with Karen when Mickey ‘n his boys beat me up ‘cause they were mad at Ian,” he said, gesturing with his cigarette.

“That’s fucked up Lip I’m sorry,” you said, trying to keep your anger (showing him how much you care) under the surface.

“‘S okay, better me than him,” he said, resting his elbow on the door and putting the cigarette between his lips. 

You always knew Lip had a soft side, though of course you couldn’t blame him for any roughness he’d acquired over the years. No matter what happened, you knew you’d always admire him.

“That’s really amazing of you. Don’t downplay that.” You stopped at the red light, pushing the lever to turn on the right turn signal. The slow clicking filled the car as you waited, the red washing over the windshield.

“What did Karen do?” you asked quietly.

Silence. 

“Headed home, I think,” he mumbled. 

“Fuck.” 

He blew smoke out of his mouth.

“Hey hey out the window!” you said, gesturing across him. “I don’t want my car smelling like cigs.”

He rolled his eyes. 

“Those things are so fucking bad for you anyway,” you continued, turning back into the parking lot.

“Aww you love me,” he said, dripping with sarcasm.

“Oh no, how’d you find out?” you said, returning his tone. You parked the car and slumped back against your seat, pressing into yourself under your sweater. Maybe this was a bad idea.

You turned your head his direction, only to find his eyes already on you. 

“Can I?” you asked, reaching your arm out.

His eyebrows raised but he handed you the cigarette with no hesitation.

You placed it between your lips and inhaled, trying not to think about how this stick of nicotine and ash had been touched in ways you could only dream about. Your body immediately relaxed as you exhaled the smoke.

“Thanks,” you said, turning to hand it back to Lip. 

You stopped in your tracks at how he was looking at you. His jaw was slightly open, eyes wide and fixed on your lips until he saw you looking.

“Yeah, no problem,” he said gruffly. “Thought you were anti-smoke?”

You shrugged. “Helps the nerves sometimes.”

A smirk spread across his face, and soon he was full on grinning as he inhaled around the cigarette.

“What?” you demanded.

“You wanna kiss me so bad it’s crazy,” he said smugly. 

You shoved him in the shoulder and he laughed. 

“Shut the fuck up.” you rubbed your hands over your face, giving up on hiding your embarrassment. “Like you weren’t trying to get your cock out twenty minutes ago,” you said, recalling your earlier conversation.

“No no, that was if I figured out driving, which I haven’t,” he said, punctuating with his finger. He stubbed the last of the cigarette out on the container and threw the stub out the window. “But I would say you definitely have.”

You crossed your arms. “So?” 

“So….if we follow that logic, you deserve some head.” he said; widening his eyes as he looked up at you.

“And why’s that?”

He shrugged. “‘Cause I wanna kiss you too.”

Before you could second guess yourself, you had leaned in and so had he. When his mouth met yours, you knew you had melted.

His hand came up to brush your cheek and hold your jaw. You did what you’d been wanting to all day: reached up and ran your fingers into his hair. When your head tilted and your nails scratched his scalp, he moaned. Audibly moaned into your mouth. You didn’t think anything could’ve turned you on more. 

Your fingers tangled deeper into his curls like you’d never let go. Then you rose back on your knees and gripped your shirt to tug it over your head. He pulled back to gasp for breath, looking up at you with his hands on your hips. 

“You’re so fucking pretty,” he said breathlessly. You were about to respond in kind when he grabbed your face and pulled you into an even more breathtaking kiss. 

You had never been kissed like this before. like the person wanted to inhale you whole.

You reached for the hem of his shirt and slid your hand underneath, gliding up his abdominals as you kissed him.

He broke the kiss and crossed his arms to pull his shirt off, tossing it into the back.

Your chest shook and you pulled away. 

“Hey Lip?”

“Yeah?” his face was flushed; lips swollen.

“You’re really pretty too.” 

He smiled-a genuine smile-and kissed your neck. When his teeth scraped the skin, you moaned softly and Lip gripped your hip tighter. 

“You like that? Want me to mark you up?” he said lowly. “Show everyone how eager you are for me?”

You didn’t want him to realize how well he knew you. So you kissed him back harder, which you knew only proved him right, but at least you didn’t have to see his smug face. You dipped lower, grazing his jaw and his breath caught, hand coming up to tangle in your hair. You bit and sucked, feeling his chest speed up under your palm. 

When you knew you’d made a decent mark you rose up smiling.

“You satisfied?” he asked.

“Very,” you said. “But I do believe you had promised me something?” 

“Fuck, baby,” he breathed. “Whatever you ask.” His arms reached around your body, lifting you up and pressing your back into the drivers seat. He climbed over you and kissed you sloppily as he slid down onto the floor in front of the seat. Your heart rate picked up as he kissed the tops of your breasts.

Lip kissed you again and you scratched his shoulder as he reached behind and unclasped your bra with one hand, the other on your thigh.

“Holy shit,” you said. “I can’t even do that.”

At Lips lip bite, you knew your mistake. “Bet that impresses all the girls, doesn’t it.”

“You’re just jealous I get so much play.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, but admitted defeat and huffed. “Yeah, honestly. I do wish.”

“‘M glad you don’t. It’s got you all needy for me.” Before you can respond, he nips at the inside of your thigh. 

“Please, Lip-“

“Please what? Use your words,” he kissed up even higher, reaching the hem of your shorts. 

“Please- take these off,” you say, fumbling to unbutton your shorts. He leans back, helping you slide them down your legs.

“Oh pretty girl, so worked up and I haven’t even started. Are you always this needy?”

“Only for you, Lip,” you mumble, not even thinking. His hands pause on your thighs.

“Say that again.”

You look down at him. His eyes are dark, staring right into yours. The intensity of him shocks you. 

“Only for you, Lip.” you respond.

He groans, fingers pressing into your legs. He looks at you for permission and pulls your underwear down at your nod.

You shiver, exposed completely to his gaze. 

Your chest heaves as he looks back up.

“Move your hips up for me, pretty girl.”

God, the nickname.

You oblige, the change in angle allowing him more access to you. He slides his hand up your chest and grasps your breast.

“So, so pretty,” is his last mumble before diving in like a man starved.

His first lick has you gripping his hair, making him groan into your pussy.

“Fuck, sorry,” you apologize.

From between your thighs comes “Don’t stop.” The vibrations make you quiver. You twist your fingers in further as he circles your clit with his tongue.

“Fuck-Lip-“

“Taste so good,” he mumbles.

You groan as he continues to eat you out, the lewd sounds of it turning you on even more. 

He pulls up to spit on your pussy, swirling it on your clit as it collects with your slick.

You groaned out his name, the only word you knew.

“C’mon baby, let me hear you,” he slides his tongue through your folds again and continues his rhythm. His thumb leaves your thigh and circles your clit.

Oh. 

He was good.

You could feel the warmth spreading up through your thighs and up your stomach as your clit throbbed.

“Lip-  Lip ‘m gonna-“

“Lemme see you, pretty girl,” he says, locking his blue eyes with yours. With that, you come, hand gripping his roots, your slick dripping down his chin.

He laps you up, working you through it. Leaning back up, he kisses you hard, and you groan as you taste yourself on him.

“Thank you,” you say, kissing him again.

“My pleasure,” he smiles, as you reach for his jeans. You kiss his neck as you undo the buttons, and he helps you pull them down.

You grasp his hard-on through his briefs, and he grunts into your mouth.

“Need to be inside you,” he almost whines.

“Oh yeah?” 

“Yeah,” he breathes.

“Okay pretty boy. Backseat.” he scrambles over the console and you giggle. “Now who’s needy?”

“Just get back here.”

Reaching into the glove compartment, you grab the condom you had stored there. You do more of a step into the back, Lips eyes locked on your chest as he palms himself at the sight of you.

You lean over him and kiss down his chest, grasping his waist and hips. You ask for permission before sliding his shorts down.

“You’re pretty hot, Lip,” you say, looking back up at him. 

He chuckles and slides his hands up your waist. “Funny. Now lay down.”

You oblige and he turns to hover over you.

“You sure?” he asks.

“Definitely.”

With that, he opens the condom and rolls it on. He grips the head of his cock and slides it inside you, both of you groaning.

“Fuck-‘m not gonna last long,” he grunts in your ear. 

“‘S okay, it’s okay,” you barely get out as he slides fully inside. Your hands go to his shoulders to stay grounded. “Just fuck me, please.”

“Yes ma’am,” and you moan. He hikes your leg over his hip, and begins to move. 

“Oh god-“ You can feel his cock in you.  The ridges rub inside your walls, making you moan.

“That feel good?” he asks. “Who’s making you feel so good?”

“You, Lip, you,” you babble.

“Yeah, don’t need any other cock, right?”

“Yeah, yeah-”

“Fuck,” he chokes.

“Fuck-Lip-fuck-“

The way he moves inside you is almost too much to bear. Your nails bite into his back and he groans.

“Oh god-don’t stop-“ A second orgasm was fast approaching.

He could tell. “C’mon pretty girl-come on my cock-come on-“ he was almost incoherent, so close to his climax.

You came, seeing stars as you clamped down on his cock.

“That’s it-“ he moaned, following after you as he came.

He laid his head on your chest, both of you heaving and sweaty. You ran your hand through his damp hair, never able to disguise your affection for him.

“Thanks for the lesson,” he says. 

“Anytime,” you reply.