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wynnyfryd · 6 months ago

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@messessentialist told me her friend called to rant about spotting an “upsettingly beautiful boy in a tj maxx” and i vomited 1200 words about it, enjoy

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fic idea: chrissy and eddie work together at tj maxx. one afternoon a guy comes in who’s so hot that it kinda just pisses eddie off? bc like, who does this gorgeous asshole think he is??? coming in here and popping his hip at eddie’s counter, like, does he even know how uncomfortable it is to start chubbin’ up in skinny jeans?? that shit chafes!

so eddie gets all flustered and responds by getting an attitude with the guy because he has zero chill (and also because the dude’s iced coffee is sweating a ring all over eddie’s counter, and so help him if his manager gets on his ass one more time about keeping his station tidy—)

“did you need help finding anything else today?” eddie sneers. “coasters, perhaps?”

upsettingly hot guy looks confused for a second before he follows eddie’s pointed glance at the plastic starbucks cup leaving a cold puddle on the laminate, and then he sneers right back; adjusts the ray bans nestled in his perfect honey brown hair and looks eddie up and down — long, slow, one eyebrow lifting in subtle elitist disapproval.

“what?” he snorts, “hot topic wasn’t hiring?”

oh, fuck you very much!

so eddie’s all ‘nemesis acquired’ and holds the biggest grudge of all time. makes a sworn enemy and a boogeyman out of the guy, turns him into urban legend, starts blaming the Upsettingly Beautiful Man for every little thing that goes wrong in his life — at work, at home, at band practice; no place is safe from the dreaded UBM.

“he’s not a fucking cryptid!” gareth snaps one day at rehearsal, chucking a drumstick at eddie’s head. “just track him down and bone already so you can shut the hell up!”

“wouldn’t he just talk about him more after they have sex?” jeff wonders, to which gareth narrows his eyes and raises his second drumstick as a threat.

meanwhile, eddie’s cute coworker chrissy (who he’s become surprisingly good friends with, to the point of referring to her as his work wife) gets a girlfriend. robin’s sooooo pretty, and soooo nice, and sooooo tall, eddie, did you know how tall she is?

yes, chrissy, he’s supremely aware of a stranger’s five-foot-eight-and-a-half stature now, thank you.

“you have to meet her!” chrissy gushes, bouncing up onto her toes.

eddie hangs another shirt. “you have to chill.”

“hey!�� she pouts, pixar princess cute. “you wouldn’t tell the sun to dull its shine, would you?”

“i mean, i would, but i doubt the giant ball of plasma cares what i want.”

“okay, whatever, eeyore.” she rolls her eyes but she physically can’t stop beaming even as she does it, and eddie finds himself melting under it — some sort of radiant area attack coming from the apples of this girl’s cheeks, he swears, because the next thing he knows he’s agreeing to go to rando new girlfriend’s housewarming party this weekend so he can meet her properly.

only he doesn’t get to meet her properly, because when he shows up to the party the two bedroom apartment is packed with people he’s never seen, and it’s loud as fuck in here and he’s sweating through his leather from the six flights of stairs he had to climb to reach the place, so he steps through a sliding door out to the balcony and lo and behold, if it isn’t Upsettingly Beautiful Man looking upsettingly beautiful — positively fucking divine, actually, the last wisps of fuchsia sunset catching the gold streaks in his hair and dotting the tip of his flawless nose. Seriously, does this dude have any flaws? A scar, a birthmark, an unsightly ingrown hair? Eddie can’t even see a single blackhead for fuck’s sake.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer” the dude mutters, turning to look at him, and, “oh, my god, you again?”

“uh.”

“i’ve got a fucking coaster this time,” the guy says, lifting his solo cup and giving it a little shake to point out the cork round sitting underneath it, “so if that’s what you came out here to berate me for, then you’ll have to think of something else.”

“uh,” eddie says again, because he has no idea what brought this on but he’s pretty sure it has shit all to do with him, and pretty boy’s really working himself up now, arms moving in sharp gestures as he paces back and forth on the short balcony.

“not that it even matters if i didn’t have a coaster, because this is my house! i can do what i want with my own fucking stuff in my own fucking apartment, nance, i don’t— uh…”

pretty boy’s face blossoms rose petal red, a heavy blush creeping up his jawline as he catches himself mid rant and folds in on himself, crossing his arms over his chest with a sheepish expression.

eddie’s always had a thing for shepherding.

“i’m listening,” he says, popping a cigarette in his mouth and holding the pack out in offering. “if you care to vent.”

the guy — steve, eddie finds out — tells him all about his controlling ex-girlfriend as they work their way through two cigarettes each, the sun slipping away to reveal a full topaz moon, big and low and close, ripe citrus bending the branch of a tree. nance was a real piece of work by the sounds of it, and eddie feels like an absolute shit for the way he treated steve, who had apparently just gotten dumped the night before they met and had been out shopping for a “please take me back” present.

“like that was ever gonna work,” steve mumbles, ashing over the railing. “pathetic. anyway, sorry i was rude to you that day or whatever.”

“you weren’t.”

“nah, i was.” steve shifts his weight, knocks their shoulders together. “not that you didn’t deserve it.”

“yeahhhh,” eddie agrees, cringing at himself. “sorry.”

“all good. so what’s your story then, huh? who pissed in your cheerios that day?”

eddie blames the alcohol fumes wafting from steve’s cup — a justification that makes perfect sense and would totally hold up in a court of law — for what he says next.

“honestly? you.”

steve’s face is so cartoonishly offended that eddie busts out laughing, eyes crinkling, head thrown back.

“oh, so you’re just an asshole,” steve nods sagely. “first cute guy to flirt with me in six weeks is a lunatic. love that for me.”

“no, i—” eddie laughs, “okay, we’re coming back to how you think i’m cute, but i just meant, uh-”

oh, fuck it. eddie’s never been good at holding his cards close to the chest. more of a 52 pick up kinda guy, historically, and why change now?

“you were so gorgeous it, like, genuinely upset me for a second,” eddie admits, running his tongue over his lip. he stubs out his cigarette; turns to look right at steve. “like, uh, like cuteness aggression or some shit.”

steve mirrors his posture, leaning an elbow on the railing, nearly chest to chest. “so you are crazy,” he smiles.

“that’s correct.” eddie swallows.

steve moves in to close the gap. “good crazy?”

“fun crazy, so i’m told.”

“i’m gonna kiss you if that’s cool.”

“very”

the kiss tastes like ripe citrus

#steddie #steddie headcanons #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #chrissy cunningham #buckingham #enemies to lovers

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sugucidal · 1 year ago

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# HOW TO SEDUCE YOUR NEIGHBOR 101 !!

CHAPTER i. [3k words]

୨୧‬┊pairing: toji fushiguro x fem! reader

୨୧‬┊synopsis: with winter break having rolled around the corner, you’ve decided to spend it with your family back at home. it felt nice being back after 2 years away at university. you just wish your mom had told you that a certain guest was visiting. one that you hadn’t expected to ever have to face again.

୨୧‬┊warnings: fluff! + age gap (reader is 19 and toji is 34) + taboo content (cause what’re u doin tryna get tojis middle aged ass in ur bed smh) + slice of life kind of (??) + suggestiveness + humor + reader is in her winter bimbo era + toji is…toji. + no smut yet sorryy + slight slowburn + everything is legal! no ones going to jail!

୨୧‬┊a/n: first chapter woohooo !!! second chapter will finally be coming out on [redacted] <3

‪MAIN POST | part i. > part ii. > part iii.

Tugging at the sleeves of your jacket further down your hands, you let out an exhale, nerves set ablaze. The typical cool spring air was colder than usual this particular night out, sun having already set and moon shining up into the dark, starry sky.

Fiddling with the hem of your mini skirt, you gazed up, doe eyes glinting heatedly up at the man you've harbored adoration towards.

You were finally gonna confess.

"I want you."

The simple words that held so much weight filled the space between you both.

A sigh in response. Oh no. You already knew what was coming, but you hoped to any deity or god from above that it wouldn't turn out this way.

"Kid, you're way too young for me." The smoke blowing past his lips wafted through the stiff air, his scar pulling at the corner of his mouth in dismay. "If you were older maybe I'd consider it. Wouldn't bet on it though, since you're such a pain in the ass to deal with."

You let his words hang momentarily, trying to come up with a sufficient rebuttal. You knew he was only playing when he said you were a pain to deal with but it still stung your heart to hear it coming from him. But you weren't gonna give up that easily. You've had a crush on this man ever since he moved into the neighborhood years ago!

What started out as innocent puppy love slowly built its way into this desire, stemmed deep at the heart the older you got. You'd watch as he invited women into his home late into the hours of the night, clinging onto him like a leech in a body of lakewater. God, how you wish it was you he'd have brought into his home on those late nights. Lustfully gazing down at you with promises of this being the best you'll ever have, one you'd be thinking back on until the day you die.

He knew exactly just how much you craved for his touch. It wasn't hard to see that he felt the same, you could see it in the way he'd glance in your direction whenever you purposely wore something revealing, hoping to catch his eye. He told you that you shouldn't wear things like that at your age around men, that they were dangerous, intentions impure. As if he wasn't one of those men he was warning you about. But despite it all, he always looked the other way. Kept a boundary of barbed wire up, no way of climbing through. Frankly, it was annoying.

You hate when people play hard to get.

"So...you mean once I'm 18, you'll take up my offer?" If he couldn't get with you because you were 'too young' then surely he'd concede if you were legally an adult...right?

"Not exactly what I said, but sure," Taking one last final drag of his cigar, he stomped it out onto the pavement, sharp eyes gazing at you discerningly one last time before turning the other way.

"Whatever gets you off my case."

That was the last time you spoke with Toji and almost 2 years have gone by since then. The rejection after the confession hurt no doubt, but the avoidance of Toji towards you afterwards, hurt like salt to a fresh wound.

You rarely saw him after that, suddenly out for weeks to months at a time for work. Sometimes he'd come by when he was free and have idle chats with your parents any time they saw him down the neighborhood. Not bothering to spare a polite greeting or glance in your direction whenever you were present. What used to be a strong bond between family friend and their doting daughter, having met him at an early age, quickly turned awkward and tense, distance overtaking whatever there once was.

You regret talking to him that night every single day.

Unfortunately, you couldn't bring back the past and fix your fuck up. On the other hand, the days of being immature and bratty were long gone. Having been replaced by someone more mature and less dense.

Living off pre-packaged noodles and staying up till 6 am finishing up assignments for your university classes due the next hour, does that to a person you suppose.

Now with winter break finally having rolled around the corner, you were able to get that good night's sleep your exhausted ass had been craving for. And the home cooked meals your mother had waiting for you was certainly appreciated as well.

Lugging your bags up the front steps to your parents' quaint home, you took a quick look at the classic 'welcome home' mat under your feet that you were sure still hid a key underneath. Lifting the corner of the mat your suspicions were confirmed.

You'd think they'd realize how unsafe this could be one of these days.

Before you could place the key through the silver lock, you were instead met with the distinct sound of hard, oak wood doors being unlocked and swung open.

"Baby, you're finally home! Get in quickly, come on now." Your mother hastily ushered you in, calling over your father to help carry your bags further inside the warmth of your home. The key you held was quickly dropped on the small table near the entrance, and the door kicked shut. The signature smell of a vanilla sugar cookie candle being burnt filled your nostrils, the rest wafting through the air. Anyone would think your family baked with the way they always seem to choose that particular scent regardless of season or weather. Further glancing around, you watched your family's pet cat prance towards you, its furry face wide eyed and complaining to be held. You swear he acted like a dog sometimes.

Guess some things never change.

You just hoped that would've stayed true for a certain someone.

Before you had any more time to dwell on it, you were taken out of your thoughts by the mention of the name you had barely begun to ponder over.

'Speak of the devil', you sighed.

Walking over to the living area, you followed your father picking up your cat on the way, butting in, "Hm? what was that?"

"You remember Toji right?" Nodding your head, your father continued. "We invited him over for dinner tonight."

You paused in your step. "What? Why?" The confusion in your voice was surely noticed. You couldn't exactly say you were unhappy, hell you felt giddy at just the mention of his name, but you were still hung up on the past and weren't ready to face the man that blew off your poor naive, little heart. If you saw his handsome face in person again that's been embarrassingly haunting your dazed mind whenever you're busy writhing and whining atop your soft, cozy sheets—at that dinner table, you might just take the 2 hour car ride back to campus dorms.

You were just a pussy like that. One that couldn't face the culprit of those lingering feelings that had never ceased to falter throughout the years, dead in the eye.

The two quietly glanced at each other at your sudden change in demeanor, eyebrows raised. Before he could continue your mom piped up first, "What do you mean by 'why'? You haven't seen each other in so long. He misses you and I'm sure you two would like to catch up."

"Misses you" You swear your heart might've actually stopped beating. In what world would Toji Fushiguro have missed their friends young daughter after being told straight to their face that they wanted him to fuck her.

"He..misses me?" It sounded a little unbelievable saying it outloud.

"Mhm, after you left for University he asked about you a couple times, wondering when you'd be back to visit," Turning around to walk into the kitchen to get started on dinner, she smiled over her shoulder at you once more, "You must've really left an impression on him."

Nervously laughing you settled your cat down, watching him stride over to sip some water from his bowl.

"Yeah..quite some impression alright."

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Okay. Okay it's fine. Yeah you haven't seen him in years but it's fine! He's just coming over for dinner. You'll greet him with a friendly smile, he'll ask how you've been- or shit, maybe he won't. Maybe he'll just ignore you again like he's already done. Toji mentioning to your parents that he misses you was probably just a misunderstanding and he meant to say the weather has been misty- yeah. Totally plausible.

"What the hell am I doing.." Taking a once-over to look yourself in the mirror, you just finished applying the finishing touches to your makeup, wiping off any excess gloss at the corner of your lips with a q-tip for a sharp finish. Was the gloss necessary given the fact that it was going to be smudged off during dinner anyway?

The answer was yes. Yes It was.

Just because you were having a small dinner that was probably gonna be awkward as hell with a man you've been wanting- didn't want to see, shouldn't mean you couldn't at least look cute.

A sudden faint sound of muffled talking took you out your inner monologue. Putting away your array of makeup displayed on the varnished wood countertop of your vanity, you walked over to the door pressing an ear against it trying to discern what was being said.

'Hm sounds like there's someone else down there..' quietly poking a head out into the hallway you just barely made out a deep yet familiar voice before quickly being startled by your mother calling out your name.

"Hon, come down and greet Toji!"

Fuck. "C–Coming!" straightening up, you calmed your blazing nerves, mentally preparing yourself for the onslaught of awkward tension that your parents luckily knew nothing of. Bless their complete oblivion.

Walking out into the hallway and down the stairs your eyes immediately locked onto Tojis, gaze shyly looking away and focusing onto nothing in particular. You were better off staring at something near him than at him directly.

Approaching towards where they stood, you tried your best to look as confident as possible. You're a woman now. Not some doe. At least that's what you feel like telling yourself at this moment, as you pick at your nails. Standing straighter, you stood next to your parents, watching as they finished up their talk.

You haven't had a proper conversation with Toji since, well...that night. Not counting the usual greetings you had exchanged with him in the past when you saw each other after. If you could even call it that. If a glance of bare acknowledgement was considered a greeting, then sure. Yet here you were right in front of him, determined to set things right. You had to confront him, it was the only way you'd be able to heal the wound of the past and maybe, even let go.

But first, you'll have to actually talk to him.

Deciding to finally look up at Toji, you were able to make out his features more clearly. He hadn't changed much since you last saw him, still very much tall, and his ever so brooding presence never waned. His jaw was somehow even more defined than before, and he was still rocking the same haircut as he always did.

If it ain't broke, don't fix it I guess.

Overall, he looked good. Better. The best. As he most likely always will be in your eyes.

And you're so lost in your own thoughts that you don't even notice Toji looking down at you in the corner of his eye, trying to hold back a smirk that's beginning to creep up. Silly you, ogling him so openly in front of your own parents. Not like they bothered to ever notice though.

Hearing the three of them laugh about something pulled you away from your stupor, and your attention was immediately latched onto Toji who was the first to speak.

Hopefully he didn't notice you being a creep.

"It's been a while, huh? You still remember me?" You know he's only teasing by asking if you still "remembered" him. The old you would've sassed him up for asking something silly like that, but you don't know if its a good idea to get ahead of yourself and start pulling on his leg this early on.

So you opt for the safest response.

With a polite smile on your lips, you shrugged your shoulders, "Of course. It hasn't been that long."

Toji stared at you for a moment. Shit. Did he not like that answer..?

Then you felt something warm come into contact with the top of your head; it was Toji's hand. Toji was petting you. Or more like ruffling your hair—same difference.

"You barely changed."

You exhaled a breath you didn't even know you were holding. A moment longer in silence and you don't think you'd be able to hold back the urge to run back up those stairs, slam the door shut behind you, and scream into your pillow.

Why were you so nervous!? You're never nervous when it comes to Toji.

'What's up with me??''

Regardless, you felt yourself being left annoyed at his comment. Disappointed that he probably still saw you as some kid despite not certainly looking or being one at all for that matter.

Too bad you didn't realize he meant it in a different way.

Even if you tried to hide it, Toji could still make out the way you held your hands behind your back, most likely fidgeting with your nails. Seems you've changed, the thought amusing him. The old you he knew would've pounced on him by now, batting your lashes, staring up starry eyed thinking you were being discreet about it.

Nothing gets past him, especially not when you make it so obvious. One thing that hasn't changed though, are the clothes you seemed to purposely wear around him, and him only.

The moment he saw you walk down those stairs, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger all over again. The too short skirt and see-through slip on you adorned leaving almost nothing to the imagination, if not for the cream colored cardigan you wore hiding the slivers of skin, leaving him wanting more of what was underneath.

'What a damn tease..' But Tojis eyes averted by the time your parents noticed your descend towards them. He didn't exactly want them seeing him ogle their daughter so openly.

Before any one of you could say anything more, your mother cut the greetings short. "Great, now that we're all finished reuniting again, let's start eating before the food gets cold."

Walking a little ways behind you, Toji catched the way your hips swayed as you walked. Whether you were doing it intentionally or not, he couldn't say for sure.

But one thing he was sure about, is that you were going to give him one hell of a hard time.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

The rest of dinner went by quickly. Once you were all seated, your parents and Toji had no problem talking with each other. They were busy discussing something, but your mind was too occupied to actually listen in on what they were saying. Too busy playing around with the food on your plate as your mind ran aimlessly, and foot twitching anxiously.

The night could've been worse. Really, it could've. Sure you haven't made any progress yet, but you'll get there! Overall, nothing particular happened. Except for one thing.

Toji couldn't stop looking at you.

- - - - - - - - - - ୨♡୧ - - - - - - - - - -

Before you knew it, dinner had come to an end. Toji had already taken his leave and bid you all a 'thanks for the meal' and a goodbye. Finally. Now you can slip away to your room, wipe off your makeup, and lay awake in your bed as you regret everything you could've said and done tonight but didn't without anyone noticing–

"Where do you think you're going?" There stood your mom, looking at you expectantly. Were you missing something?

"To my room, why?"

"Didn't you hear at dinner?"

'Was I supposed to hear something at dinner?'

"No, hear what exactly?"

"Tomorrow, you're going out to buy some decorations for a party we're having."

A beat of silence. Your eyebrows were furrowed in confusion as you wondered why the hell you would be having a party.

"Mom… I appreciate that you want to host a welcome back party for me, but there's really no need to." It's sweet that they missed you this much, but you weren't one for parties that were centered around you.

She laughed. "No, no, not a party for you. I know you don't like that kinda stuff,"

Oh. Nevermind then.

"Our annual winter get together. We do it every year with the rest of the neighborhood and we're the ones hosting this time. Have all those cup noodles gotten to your head and you suddenly forgot?" She shook her head in disappointment.

Low blow, mom.

"I didn't forget! I just...didn't know you'd be the ones doing it this year."

"If you were actually paying attention at dinner then you'd have heard."

"Sorry. So, tomorrow you want me to go out and buy decor right? Cool, I'll go after lunch."

Thinking that was the end of that, you began to trudge your way towards the staircase. Already almost at the top when your mother called out to you once more.

"Oh! and Toji's accompanying you."

Yup, definitely going to scream into your pillow tonight.

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starkeyisthelastname · 4 months ago

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but does he go to the carnival with her lmfao

he sure does. 😏 this one got real dirty. 💦 remember reader is between nineteen and twenty one while rafe is thirty.

He’s grumpy about it, but he can’t say no to your sugary sweet self, especially when you take a grown man’s cock so well. As annoying your persistent little self was, he had never had someone be so obsessed with him and it boosted his ego a little bit to have a doll like you, wanting to be wrapped around him every day. You had attached yourself to him, because you didn’t know any better, just wanting to live your little princess move fantasy about having a boyfriend.

“Would you quit fuckin’ bouncin around, we ain’t even goin’ for that long.” Rafe grumbled, cigarette hanging from between his lips as he could feel you vibrating in the passenger seat of his beat up pick up. “Like a goddamn bunny rabbit, I swear.” He mumbled to himself, flicking the ash out the rolled down window.

Your pretty eyes were wide and full of excitement as Rafe helped you hop down from the truck. You were trying your best to be patient, waiting for him to finish another cigarette as his blue eyes stared at you underneath the old cap he had on. “C’mere.” He said, voice raspy as he blew out the heavy smoke. You closed the little gap between the two of you, his height imposing over your smaller frame. His free hand grabbed your hip possessively, the sweet scent of baby lotion and vanilla overtaking even the heavy nicotine. “Don’t leave my fuckin’ sight while we’re here. Got that sugar?” He asked, a smirk spreading across his face as he watched you nod eagerly and obediently.

He definitely felt out of his element, and bitched about how expensive shit was even though he wasn’t paying. The only thing that made this place bearable was watching your fat ass and pretty tits bounce around at your excitement. You’d force him to ride the ferris wheel, his massive frame cramped in the small cart as you happily sat next to him. He’d then watch you eat a handful of cotton candy, your eyes lighting up in the Carolina sun as you pointed to a huge stuffed white rabbit on the prize wall of one of the game booths. You’d smack your sticky lips together, tugging at his worn t-shirt to get his attention.

He was feeling a little looser after he coaxed you into letting him get a pint of beer which definitely wasn’t the cheap shit he was use to drinking. He’d take a hefty sip, looking down at you as you gave him those doe eyes and pouty cotton candy covered lips. He’d shake his head, downing the rest of the bitter liquid before tossing the plastic cup into a nearby trash can. He then yanked a few tickets out from your delicate hand, grumbling to himself that he was going to try and win a stupid stuffed animal for a girl nearly a decade younger than him.

And oh were you so happy as the guy pulled it off the shelf, the giant thing nearly the size of you as you tried to hold it up. “Can’t even carry the fuckin’ useless thing, can you babydoll?” He asked with a snort, plucking the toy from you and carrying it with ease in one veiny arm. It was the way you said “thank you” in that sweet sugary voice, clinging onto him like puppy and that gorgeous little body and pouty face that made him want to do bad things to you over and over.

He was wrong for this and he knew it, a bad man that couldn’t help but get off on the fact he had you faced down in your frilly twin bed, the slightly rusted metal frame squeaking as he pounded into your fluttering cunt. Your father was asleep just across the hall of the quaint trailer, that might as well of been a mini mansion compared to his shit hole of a place. His rough hand held you by the back of the neck, pushing you down into your newly stuffed rabbit to keep your cries quiet.

“Shh.. you can take it. Just be real quiet for me sweet baby..” He grunted, watching his thick cock stretch out your creamy little hole as the moonlight shined in through your pink blinds. “Can’t have your daddy finding’ out you are takin’ a grown man’s fat cock in your precious cunt..” His voice drawled out lowly, watching your manicured little hands grip onto the quilt for support. Your poor makeup had already stained your new white bunny, your face hot as he continued to hold your head down to keep your pretty moans muffled.

You took him so well, and he was as a hung motherfucker to be fucking your tight little cunt the way he was. It took every ounce of him not to bust inside you as you squeezed his cock, cumming around him like a good fuck doll. He couldn’t do that shit yet though, he needed to wait before he knocked you up with his little trailer park babies. He continued to pile drive his toned hips into you, his hand on the back of your neck to keep you grounded while his climax approached.

As his nuts tightened, he quickly pulled out and yanked your limp body over to face him. He gripped your hair tightly, aiming himself over your fucked out face as he tried to keep his groans quiet. “Open your fuckin’ mouth and stick that pretty tongue out.” He grunted, watching as you obliged without any question which only made his seed start to spurt across your beautiful face. “That’s my good girl.. takin’ my fuckin’ nut to your face in your daddy’s house.” He said with an amused breathless chuckle.

#rafe cameron #trailerpark!rafe #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron concepts #rafe concepts #outerbanks rafe #rafe outer banks #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #obx #obx smut #outer banks

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aliidarling · 8 months ago

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No bc like imagine you are in a trial right right, but you spawn with ONLY a slightly big tee shirt and panties and so Danny (ghost face) is like GOOD GOOGLY MOOGLY and tickles you where the sun doesn’t shine :3 only do this after you do my Ada request though .. (just kitten I know that will never get finished)

IM SORRRYY I GOT LIKE HALFWAY DONE WITH THE ADA ONE AND LOST MOTIVATION I SWEAR ILL FINISH IT SOMETIME SOON 😓🙏🙏

dark paradise

DANNY JOHNSON X fem!reader

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable!!

summary: you’re spawned into the trial in tiny pajamas for the new event, and your favorite killer very much likes your outfit hehe

warnings: nsfw obvi, p in v, rough sex, creampie, butt slapping a little, degrading, stab wounds(NO WOUND FUCKING), steve harrington…😟

nsfw content below!!

You felt absolutely humiliated, to say the least. The Entity had decided to wreak havoc on you and send you to a trial in nothing but some shitty horror tee and the tiniest shorts you’ve ever worn.

Being sent to the Red Forest made it even worse, your shirt all wet and damp from the musty air and rain, making the fabric cling onto your skin. Your teammates weren’t to shy with their obvious glances at your chest and how your ass was hanging out.

“Quit it.” You huffed, scowling as you worked on a generator alongside Steve. Fucking Steve, one of the biggest flirts around here.

He rolls his eyes and does a mocking surrender of his hands, before grinning at you.

“It’s not my fault you got sent here looking like a model! Like damn, girl.” He snickers, nudging you with his hips. You glare at him, trying to hold back your laugh.

“It’s not funny!” You whine, curling your knees to your chest slightly to help yourself with the cold. You were shivering. Feeling the wet floor press against your butt had you cringing, but you’d rather have a mud-covered ass then hypothermia.

“It kinda is,” He hums. Another few moments pass as the two of you work on the generator, an eye out for any killer. The trial had just begun so you had no idea who it was yet. A small part of you hoped it would be Danny.

You had no idea what you and Danny were, but he would always let you live, as long as you have him some kisses and maybe a little hook up session. And you weren’t even against it, he was good with that monster in his pants and his words.

Steve suddenly makes a mistake and next thing you know the generator blows up in both of your faces, making you yelp and back up. You turn to him slowly with a pissed off expression.

“Seriously?”

He offers a weak grin.

“Can you blame me? You look very distracting—“

He gets interrupted when suddenly a knife is pushed through his back, making him scream and fall forward. You gasp loudly, stumbling back and hugging yourself. You shiver as the wet rain making your hair sticks to your face, your thin shirt hugging your breasts.

“Don’t talk bout her like that, fuckin’ moron.” The tall man huffs, the black robe and shrieking mask making you relax. You relaxed only for a moment before realizing he was about to kill one of your friends.

“Danny!” You stepped forward, trying to get him to stop from stabbing the shit out of Steve. “He was just joking, c’mon.” You huff, frowning up at the taller man.

He gazes down at you, eyes under his mask widening as your barely covered form presses against his body. From his angle he could see down your shirt, your nipples poking through the shirt brushing against his chest. His breath hitched as he reluctantly steps away from the bleeding out Steve, before turning back towards you and grabbing you around the waist.

“Let’s go, now.” He grunts, dragging you towards the cabin.

Barely twenty minutes later, he had you bent over one of log tables in the cabin, his cock deep inside your small cunt. Your shorts hung off your ankles, your panties pushed to the side.

His grunting was loud and raspy, his hands holding you around your waist to steady your trembling body. He pushed his cock as deep as he could with every thrust, his large fingers rubbing your skin.

He had made sure to bunch your shirt above your chest, not even bothering to fully undress you. Seeing you all damp with those tiny pajamas sticking to your soft skin had him all hot and bothered, with no care in the world other then shoving himself inside you as soon as possible.

“Shut up, whore.” He grumbles quietly, panting from behind you as he keeps thrusting his hips into you from behind. His grip on you was tight, bruising probably.

“Danny…” You moan softly, eyes rolled back to the back of your sockets, mouth hanging open each time his tip presses against that sweet spot all the way in the back of your pussy. It felt so good, getting slutted out by this masked murderer.

You couldn’t even care that your friends blood was getting all over you. All that mattered was how he felt, inside you and on your skin. How his cock hit deeper then anyone ever could, and how he whispered such dirty things that had you clenching down.

“Dressed like a fuckin’ slut,” He grunts, his thrusts hardening. He starts to gain speed, groaning at how tight you were around him, like a fucking anaconda.

“Don’t act surprised that you got bent over, bitch. You knew what was gon’ happen the second you saw me, dirty little slut, flashing those tits at me—“ He reaches one of his hands to grab the back of your head, pulling your hair back as his thrusts grow harder and faster.

“Dannnnny!” You mewl from under him, panting and moaning as he kept going. He grabs one of your legs and puts your knee up on the table, managing to shove his cock deeper inside you. He hums at how you clench down from the new angle, a mocking grin on his face.

“Good lil’ girl, keep takin’ my cock like this and maybe I’ll let you cum.” He snickers darkly.

“Y-Yes, mhm, I’ll be your good girl.” You sigh heavily as he pushes himself deeper once again, having your eyes daze at his good it felt. You were so thankful the generator in the cabin had already been completed, or else the fear of someone walking in would of been haunting you.

His hand roughly slaps your butt, making you whine and clench down. He groans at that and let’s go of your hair, going back to holding your waist and pushing your body down into the table. His thrusts continue, your moans leaving your throat like a broken record.

“I-I’m gonna cum, please, please, can I?” You whimper desperately, hands scratching and clawing at the able in hopes of finding something to hold onto. You could feel your orgasm nearing, making you clench down greatly around his cock, earning a raspy moan from the man behind you.

“Y-Yeah, fuck, let it go sweetie.” He mumbled, his thrusts growing sloppy as he works on making you cum.

Without another second, you let out a shaky cry and cum over his cock, your walls milking him dry. He leans down, pressing his chest against your back to muffle his noises. He releases his thick load inside your pussy, his hands reaching up to push down on your shoulders.

A few minutes pass as the two of you relax from your high. Once he’s felt that you’ve calmed down enough, he slowly pulls out, hissing at the feeling. He stares at your wet pussy and how both your cum dripped out, a small chuckle leaving him.

He steps back and tugs your panties back up, making you cringe as he makes sure none of it falls out of your hole.

“..Danny… C’mon—s’yucky!” You whine as he helps you out your clothes back on. His touch was surprisingly gentle.

“Shut it. Lucky I didn’t cum all over your face.” He gives you a little pat on the cheek. You roll your eyes before reluctantly smiling and pulling him in for a kiss. He hums and kisses back, his large hands going to rub your waist.

You had no idea what the two of you were, fuck buddies, lovers? Maybe in another life you could of maybe lived a normal life, not one where one was a serial killer. Maybe a journalist. Danny Johnson sounds like a journalist name. You’d call him Jed as a nickname, you though, it would fit him.

You both slowly part, his hand going to pull his mask back down. He slaps your butt and pushes the towards the door, smirking.

“Until next time, sweetheart. Better get to the gates before it’s too late.” He tsk’s.

once again i didn’t proofread cuz i’m LAZYYY

#ghost face x reader #danny johnson x reader #danny johnson #ghostface smut #ghostface #dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #dead by daylight smut

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saintslewis · 5 months ago

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐙𝐄𝐑𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

— drabble.

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: the sun shined on the man himself, the one to break records, the one to raise the golden trophy.

warnings: outfit links, cussing, loads of happy tears, suggestive themes.

saint’s team radio 🪩: lewis mf hamilton won his 104th so you knowwwwwww i had to do it. thank you all for 1k and this is just the start of the celebration. congratulations to my husband 🥳 tags down below! (i put nads in the header but shhhhh)

pls like, comment and reblog 💗

Tying your shoelaces, you stood up straight and looked at yourself in the mirror. Fidgeting around with your hair and jewellery, you took several breaths to calm yourself down.

The previous day, Lewis took p2 for qualifying. It’s a well known fact that Silverstone is his playground but anything could happen, this race could go any which way and that’s what scared you the most.

“Should I take a jacket?” You called out to Lewis who was in his closet, most likely picking out his jewellery. “It won’t get too cold but I’ll take one for you.” He spoke, stepping out of the closet in his red ensemble, donning different types of pearls this time around and his black timbs shining.

Your eyes fell to his silhouette in your peripheral view and you turned your head so that your gaze fell upon him. He looked good, his head was high as he strode into the room with a special aura around him. You were always someone who had faith in anything Lewis does on track, no matter the place he finishes the race in, often treating a P7 like a podium.

The past two and a half years have been incredibly tough on Lewis and his mental health, often bringing himself down in the expense of his team’s terrible strategies. Finding it hard to wake up each and every day with a pained smile on his face whenever he walked into any paddock around, he knew he had his family as his biggest cheerleaders. Including you. In your wedding vows, he acknowledged how eternally grateful he was for you even after all the hardships he endured.

“Are we seriously matching?” Your shoulders dropped once you realised you were both wearing red. “I don’t know, I find it cute.” He smiled, giving you a wink and a pat on the ass before walking out of the room. Shaking your head, you fixed up your appearance before reaching for your handbag and you were out of the house in the nick of time. Confirming the logistics of bringing Roscoe along, you hopped in the same SUV and headed off to the track.

SILVERSTONE CIRCUIT

You poorly underestimated the weather that Silverstone would bring but as your husband promised, you had a jacket around your shoulders since the weather was predicted to change during the race. As nervous as you were, you walked and spoke with pure confidence.

Ever since you stepped in the paddock, eyes never strayed from the Hamilton family, more than usual. You had brushed it off and stayed in the garage along with your in-laws, your arms were around Willow’s shoulders as the national anthem concluded and teams were ready to start the race.

“Hopefully we’ll hear that again.” Carmen smiled at you as she took her seat next to you. “I’m hoping for a trophy lift of some sort.” You returned the smile and placed Willow on your lap as you sat down.

Anthony had appeared on screen, standing by Lewis with a straight face while looking at his son fix his balaclava. Anyone with eyes knew the energy that exuded from the 5 second clip, that was Lewis’ dad knowing that his son was not going to finish lower than P4.

You had already given him good luck hugs and kisses but your hands were still shaking because you knew anything could happen. Your heart calmed when your eyes landed on the crowd across the track and how so many of them were there to cheer for Lewis. Seas of the neon yellow your husband donned were strategically positioned in front of his garage and you could feel the support from your seat.

From lap 20, you couldn’t sit still but you tried your best to keep your seat as he stayed within the top 4. The beast that was the w15 was swiftly moving across the track and never slid even when the rain appeared.

George’s car rolled in the car after it was announced that he would retire from the race and your heart slightly sank although it made you slightly happy. The drivers behind Lewis weren’t exactly kind when it came to fighting for the number one spot but they hadn’t raced against Lewis in a long time so they were messing up strategies left right and centre as Lewis drove.

He was reminding people who the fuck he was in real time.

By the time the McLarens and the singular Ferrari had pitted by lap 44, you knew Lewis had this win or at least second place but your husband doesn’t exist to be second. You stood from your seat and joined Anthony at the edge of the garage, your right hand on your chest as your breaths became quicker with your left hand on your hip.

Tears prickled your eyes as Lewis stayed the race leader and as lap 52 began, a tear of joy slid down your face with the pit team already climbing the fence right next to the finish line. The crowd’s cheers overpowered that of Mercedes’ garage as the sun shined on his car, the top of his helmet glowing.

“Oh my God!” You screamed, your hands flailing about as your father in law celebrated next to you and eventually brought you into a bear hug. A wave of different emotions came over you as you tried to catch your breath and you were able to compose yourself as cameras came rushing to the garage.

Walking with your in laws to parc femme, you watched Lewis park the car and wrap the flag around his shoulders, the crowd cheering even louder than before. He embraced his father and you could see his shoulders slightly bouncing and your heart was pounding at the thought of him crying under the helmet. Eventually prepping himself for his post-race interview, he ran over to where you stood with his family.

His eyes caught your tearful ones just after he let go of his mom’s face. The smile that spread across his face was pure joy and his eyes held so much warmth even though he was a few meters from you. He quickly strode to you and you opened your arms to lock around his neck.

“I’m so proud of you, my love. So proud.” Your voice shook as you moved to hold his face. “I love you.” He said, kissing your forehead and blinked away the tears threatening to fall from his eyes. “I love you so much, thank you.” He repeated, squeezing your waist a little then let go of you. Before you could respond, Lewis sent back a smile as he had to continue the interviews.

The podium was as magical as the win itself, drops of the champagne landed on you as he sprayed the crowd but you didn’t mind. Anything to see him smile like he had on that podium.

“King of Silverstone, huh?” You smiled as you walked out of the bathroom clad in a silk robe with a surprise hidden underneath. Lewis looked up from his phone, his back against the headboard. Just like the morning before, his gaze fell on your body and he could not take his eyes off you.

He quickly glanced at the time, the digital clock reading 4 am and he thought you two would be utterly exhausted after his celebration party but you had proved him wrong. You sashayed onto the bed and sat next to him with your knees underneath you, his head following you throughout.

“You have no idea how much you mean to me.” Lewis spoke, itching to touch you as his eyes wandered to the cleavage your silk robe displayed as you sat close to your husband. “I’m so proud of you, my love. Never giving up and staying strong throughout everything you went through is admirable.” You praised, your hand at the back of his head with your nails lightly scratching his nape. Although you could tell he was not paying attention.

“Lewis?”

“Hm?”

“Did you hear anything I said?” You chuckled and his eyes finally connected with yours. “Uh…yeah.” He tried to give you an answer but his eyes were then glued on your glossy lips.

Smiling at your husband’s actions, you reached for the knot of the robe and slowly began untying it. “Since today is your day,” Sliding off the soft material of your shoulders, you continued. “You can do whatever you want to me.” Your words were soft yet seductive.

“Anything?” Lewis questioned.

“You deserve it, Sir.”

saint’s notes: i did NAWT mean to take this long with this, oh em gee. i hope you guys love it and yes, i’m still living off the high from July 7th 🫶🏽

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @non-stop-imagines @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @cocobutterqwueen @queenshikongo3 @saturnville @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @arshiyuh @motheroffae @henneseyhoe @shhhchriss

#saint writes #saint’s 1k celebration ⭐️#lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic

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oddinary4bts · 7 months ago

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Chasing Cars | teaser (jjk)

☆summary: when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

☆pairings: brother's best friend!Jungkook x younger sister!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI, some chapters have mature content)

☆genre: forbidden love?au, college!au, slice of life!au, smut, angst (as usual a lot of it), fluff

☆warnings: alcohol consumption, curses

☆word count: 1.1k

☆a/n: teaser time babyyyy!! I hope you guys love it :') thank you to @moonleeai and @jessikahathaway for beta-ing, you guys are the best <3

☆series masterpost

☆add yourself to the taglist here!

☆☆☆☆☆

If I lay here If I just lay here Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

Chasing Cars, Snow Patrol

☆☆☆☆☆

The hour is late. Jungkook is tipsy, far more than he thought he’d get tonight, but then again, Taehyung is not in a better state, and Sera, Jimin’s girlfriend, had to force him to go home before they got too drunk.

They’re all supposed to help Taehyung’s little sister move in tomorrow, Jungkook included.

“Man,” Taehyung lets out, and Jungkook looks away from the game of Smash they’re playing - that he’s majestically losing - to focus on Taehyung.

“What?” he lets out.

“Can’t believe Y/n will be here tomorrow,” Taehyung answers.

“Can’t believe you’re forcing me to live with a girl.”

Taehyung chuckles. “Don’t worry, Y/n is chill.”

Jungkook doesn’t doubt she is, considering how well he gets along with Taehyung, and Taehyung’s made it seem that he gets along well with his sister. He imagines Y/n’s just going to be a mini Taehyung, which frankly could be fun to have around.

But he doesn’t know anything about her other than the fact that she is Taehyung’s little sister.

“You know,” Taehyung adds as the game finishes. “I meant to tell you something.”

Jungkook cocks his pierced eyebrow in question. “Yeah?”

“Just wanted to say that if you touch my sister, you’re fucking dead.”

Jungkook bursts out laughing, shaking his head, but Taehyung remains entirely serious. Like he meant what he just said - could he?

“You’re joking right?” Jungkook asks as his laughter fades away.

“No, I’m dead ass,” Taehyung insists. “You breathe in her direction, and you’re dead.”

“Damn.” Jungkook widens his gaze, and then picks up the beer he’s been slowly drinking since Jimin left. “Understood.”

Hell, Jungkook knows that he sleeps around. Taehyung does the same - he can’t help but understand Taehyung when he says to stay away from his sister. And he thinks it’ll be easy. Y/n’s probably just going to be a clueless baby college kid, and though Jungkook doesn’t mind going for younger, he’ll have plenty of new faces to explore once Frosh week starts next week anyways.

So he promises Taehyung he has nothing to worry about, and they play a couple more games before they head to bed.

Jungkook wakes up early the next morning, the sun shining right in his face the most efficient alarm he’s ever used before. He wants to go to the gym before helping Taehyung’s sister, and though he hates being awake so early, he immediately forces himself to get up lest he falls back asleep.

His workout goes well, and he’s pleasantly sore when he heads back home. He’s lucky - he manages to park not too far from the apartment. He’s walking home, gym bag in one hand and his phone in the other, when Taehyung texts him to ask where he is.

Jungkook types ‘Fuck off’, pressing send as his attention is solely on his phone.

Until said phone flies out of his hand as he collides with a girl he didn’t notice, and Jungkook watches in horror as the device falls in a flower bed.

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” you say, and you immediately dive into the flower bed, retrieving Jungkook’s phone.

You hand it to him, and Jungkook just stares at you, mouth agape. He’s aware he’s staring and that he probably looks stupid, but he’s dumbfounded.

You’re the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, and he’s seen a lot.

“Don’t worry about it,” he answers quickly when you cock an eyebrow, your cheeks slowly turning red. “I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“At least it didn’t break,” you say, and you flash him a quick smile.

It does things to his heart that Jungkook barely comprehends - it’s like his heart is going miles a minute, yet it’s soothing, warm, much like the pavement feels in the summer when the sun has just dipped below the horizon.

“Right, yeah,” Jungkook answers, and his cheeks burn.

His cheeks fucking burn, and he wishes he could just disappear, dive below the ground until you can’t see him anymore. You just keep on smiling, eyes never disconnecting from his, and he wonders if you, too, feel like he does.

Shit, he thinks he might even hear bells in the distance.

You glance away, and it’s like he’s falling forward while not moving at all, and all he can do is pathetically clear his throat, as if that’s going to offer any help.

“I see you’ve met Y/n!” Taehyung yells from behind you, and Jungkook freezes.

Jungkook freezes, and then something burns in his lungs, like he’s under the surface struggling for futile oxygen he knows he won’t find.

You are… Taehyung’s sister.

You’re Y/n.

His best friend’s little sister.

The one thing Jungkook can’t have.

It makes him feel cold, his heart suddenly dropping in the Arctic sea amongst the icebergs.

“We literally ran into each other,” you say, looking back towards your brother.

And Jungkook sees it - your hair is the same shade as Taehyung’s, your face has the same shape. The smile though - your smile is different from Taehyung’s, and maybe that’s why he was fooled.

Fooled for a few seconds which felt like an eternity.

You walk away then, heading to the open back door of a car. You grab a box, and Jungkook puts his phone in his pocket, eyeing a bag on the backseat.

“Do you want me to bring this in?” he asks.

Only because he wants you to look at him again. His heart flutters in his chest when you do, and he forces it down with a swallow as you nod once.

“Yes, please!”

Jungkook nods too, and he grabs the bag before following you in. His right foot lands on the first step leading to the apartment when Taehyung stops him with a hand on his arm.

Jungkook frowns slightly, meeting his best friend’s gaze.

“I’m serious, JK,” Taehyung says through gritted teeth. “You fucking touch her, you’re dead.”

And Jungkook knows right then and there that he’s fucked. Entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

Because he already wants you, and he hasn’t even talked to you for more than twenty seconds.

“Don’t worry,” he reassures Taehyung, and he hopes Taehyung can’t hear how fake he sounds.

How is he supposed to resist indulging in you when he already knows you’re all he’s ever wanted?

He really is entirely, thoroughly, immensely fucked.

☆☆☆☆☆

Read chapter one here!

What did we think? Are we excited to read?? Let me know here!

Taglist: (strike-through means dumblr isn't letting me tag you)

@jjkluver7 | @lavender2ari | @srslythis-ismylife | @starlight-1010 | @mggv97

@cookysstuff | @02010802 | @kookieleshgo | @biaswreckersinc | @hera19

@ice | @nightapple | @jungkussyficrecs | @boyfriendtaekook | @montyfbaybee

@babystarcandyjk97 | @goldentea10 | @lovingkoalaface | @parapiop7 | @parking-lotnights

@junecat18 | @blr1004 | @buddybops | @kookssecret | @busandbby_jjk

@superchamchi88 | @goldenjeonkoo | @raraluvz | @lovelye79 | @boyswithjun

@skzthinker | @michellekosmos | @8balljk | @kooklovee | @kingofbodyrolls

@ll4l | @kissyfacekoo | @ggukiepie | @moon-gyi | @apples0-0

@jcrl99 | @iammeandmeisiam | @kookoo-kachoo | @marvelbun | @lalaren

@sugas-baby-girl | @glossminmin03 | @kocoreads | @carriereadsbooks | @aiiselle90210

@FeyOcean | @khuderutu | @stuti2904 | @ziya.exe | @shortnspicier

@wiseboojumtree | @bobagukks | @vrusha01 | @lilyy07 | @younhakim29

@screamertannie | @wisebouquetbarbarian | @pixiekook | @nanjeonlangakook | @jcnggukie

@ggukkieland | @phanniefoo | @jksctrl | @sp1derk0ok | @hyukal0ml

@mysjammy | @lesiacapouille | @shearttttttttt | @hobibbb | @mochifuzz

@kooksbunnnn | @moonchilddna | @libra04 | @vminkookgf | @jayrielle27

@tulips4u | @jinniejax | @chimmisbae | @sumzysworld | @imene_ghd

@gguksflowers | @sadgirlroo | @kissme-ornot | @mar-lo | @kazkookiekazookie

@infiresyg93 | @junggukjeonfreakinwife | @sweet-pinee | @chimchimmarie | @pamzn

#chasing cars teaser #chasing cars #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fluff #jungkook #jungkook fic #jjk smut #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fic #jjk #btswritersclub #jeon jungkook #chasing cars series

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andersonfilms · 6 months ago

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ღ ELECTRAPLAYER ✶ SEVEN INCHES DEEP !

series masterlist collab series w/ the talented, sweet baby — @abbyscherry

tags. eighteen+, strap sex (abby!r), daddy kink, breeding kink, masc!reader but can be read by all, part of a series but can be read on it’s own.

you're gripping her hair like she's your favorite vice, cock stretching her pretty pussy, even prettier ass recoiling against you. toned back arched for you as she moans like a whore. only down side is you can't see the effect you're having on her pretty face. the moans abby continues to let out are enough to hold you over until you can see her sun-kissed skin cheeks again, hundreds of adorable freckles decorating her nose with the soft bend. the one you adore more than the stars in the sky.

you’d been staring at her all night the day before, entranced with her beauty yet again. it’d just been the two of you, a starry skin, and her. the empty beer bottles kissing the plush grass had her singing, saying some stupid joke but caused you to have a belly laugh. incredibly loud, obnoxious even, but it makes her laugh even harder.

the sun couldn’t hold their own against her shine. the brightest star you’ve ever known. the sick feeling comes back in moments like these, afraid of the unknown. what if it doesn’t work? nagging and deafening, the thought picks at your brain like zombies off a dead carcass. all of this could end in a moment, just like the rest but you try to believe otherwise when she does shine with blissful ignorance.

you want to sit in it with her.

sometimes, it’s hard to believe she’s just yours. there’s not a single soul but you to take care of her, praise her, worship her. every bit of her is for you, but tonight she’s stubborn. batting her eyelashes, give you fuck me eyes. the little brat knew it would work too.

“is this what you wanted? fucking begging me all day to be fucked. texting me, calling me all day while i train, fuck, making me lose my focus.” you pull harder on her golden hair. a fist full of her hair, a whimpering slut — you can practically see the drool. “and sending me the video of your tits in the shower, slippery and soapy. low fucking blow.”

“daddy, i just needed you. m’sorry, i—” you slap her ass, effectively shutting her up. well…her words only. abby moans instead, muffled by the sheets beneath her. “what? you’re fucking sorry? had to cut my day early because of you. what was so important it couldn’t wait?”

“i don’t want to say. it’s really embarrassing.” she shyly remarks.

“babygirl, i’m seven inches in your pussy. don’t think there should be any more secrets between us.” you slap her ass again and abby knows what it means.

better fess up or there’s much more painful punishments to come.

honestly, abby ponders for a moment. almost taking them up on the offer but her need to cum far outweighs the bratty little devil resting on her shoulder. even if she hadn’t made the decision for herself, you would have gotten abby there.

your pace increases, fucking her harder, faster. “talking back to me isn’t a smart move. you and i both know it.” you can hear just how wet she is; every thrust sends her closer and closer to what she craves. the pleasure is practically on her tongue. pink, raw lips pleading for the craving she can never satiate. not with you.

the confession threatening to fall from her tongue, but she bites on it. rather taking the pinching in her mouth than admit she’s wrong. with anyone else, she’s always gotten her way. but with you, you effectively know how to shut her right the fuck up.

“tell me what i want to hear. what’s in this pretty head angel? hm? does daddy need to fuck your harder? y’know i will.” without prompt, you start piston fucking into her, the flimsy headboard beating against the wall. her moans growing louder, heavier, sluttier.

“f-fuck, daddy. shit, shit, shit.” abby can’t stop whining, her thighs shaking controllably, back arching ever further, if it was even possible. “please? fuck, i-, need you to spill, daddy. please need to be stuffed full of your cum.” without any buffer you’re pulling her hair so hard, abby’s back collides with your chest.

your cock filling her up even deeper as you continue to fuck her. she almost pulls your hair out from the root, before her neck to bitting into your neck, sucking, before she lets her tongue soothe over the mark.

it’s obvious, you’re so close to cumming. you can hardly stand and fuck, the base of the harness is rubbing against your clit. god, combined with abby’s moans. you’re close.

“fuck yeah? wanna have my babies baby? want me knock you up? pump you full of cum until you just can’t fucking take anymore?”

“please, god, daddy i-, i’m going to come. can i come? please? fuck, need to come all over your cock. please say yes. god, daddy?”

the last words are a nail in her coffin.

“c’mon babygirl. show me how much you want me to breed you. need to know how worthy you are of my cum. my babies. fucking show me how much of a dirty slut you are.” you press your lips on her ear, kissing it softly. “that's right. just for daddy."

hope you enjoyed! mwah mwah!

#ღ ELECTRAPLAYER — you own me #abby anderson #abby anderson x reader #abby anderson x masc reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x you #abby anderson x female reader #abby x masc reader #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson x y/n #tlou x reader #the last of us #tlou #tlou2

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cameronspecial · 6 months ago

Note

Need the rafe and reader locked up in a room 🙏

Don't Stain The Carpet

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings: Swearing and Heated Make Out

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 1.1K

Masterlist

Topper and Kece were sick of the fighting. It was happening all day, every day now and they just wanted it to stop. They might even prefer the days when the two would be caught in a heated makeout session instead of an argument. So, they devised a plan to get the exes on a more cordial playing field. “Dude, I don’t know what’s wrong with it. One moment it’s running fine. The next, it won’t start,” Topper complains, leading Rafe down to the basement. The other boy grumbles, “Yeah, yeah. Just show me where your laptop is. I don’t know why you called me for it. I’m not fucking IT support.” Topper throws him a sheepish smile over his shoulder. “But you are good with computers.” Rafe rolls his eyes, “Stop being a kiss ass. I’m already here.”

Once at the bottom of the stairs, Topper shuts up and steps out of the way so Rafe can pass through first. The tall man thinks nothing of it and enters the finished basement; however, when he is face to face with his ex-girlfriend, suspicion overcomes him. It is too late though because as he turns to leave the room and ream Topper out for this setup, the door is locked behind him. He rushes to the door, trying to open it even though he knows it is locked. “Topper, you little shit. Open this door.” He is met with silence, so he steps away from it and turns toward Y/N. “What are you doing here?” he questions.

She rolls her eyes, “Top said he needed help picking out a gift for his mom. Why are you here?” They both know they have been lied to. It’s obviously from the fact that a laptop isn’t in sight and two separate reasons as to why they are there.

He glares at her. “Oh, you know, Top said I could meet the Queen of England so I thought wow, I gotta get there. Why does it fucking matter? It was a lie.” She scoffs, “See, that. That is why I broke up with you.” He chuckles and runs his hands through his hair. “One. The breakup was mutual. Two. What. What is the reason you ‘broke up’ with me.” She holds out her hand and motions up and down, “Because you are an ass. That’s why. You only care for yourself and that’s it.”

“Oh, please. We both know that isn’t fucking true.”

“Right, sorry. I forgot about drugs and alcohol. Those might be pretty high up your list.”

“STOP PUTTING WORDS IN MY MOUTH!”

His yell has her flinching back and he takes a deep breath while running his hand down his face “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have yelled.” Her arms cross and she stands straighter. “You shouldn’t have,” she chastises. “Look, just because we are locked in here together doesn’t mean we have to talk to each other. I’ll go see if a call can get through. I mean we really should’ve seen this coming. His basement doesn’t get any signals.”

With her final mutterance, she storms away from him. Her back hits against the wall and she slides down it. He observes as she pulls her phone out, hearing the familiar music of the cat game she enjoys playing sounds through the room. He smiles at the memory of her turning onto her stomach after an eventful night of love-making to play the game. He would always make fun of her and then rest his chin on her shoulder to watch her play over her shoulder. She used to get so excited when she would find the cat she was looking for. A crease in her forehead forms and he laughs. The noise has her staring at him over her phone. “What?” His hand extends toward her hand, “Didn’t get the cat you wanted?” her gaze flicks down to her phone with a frown. God, she hates how much he knows her. “Yes,” she whispers, slouching in embarrassment.

Silence occurs on them. He shuffles over to the couch and decides to stroll down memory lane. His thumb swipes through the pictures. Her smile is so bright in this one and the sun hits her just right so it adds an extra shine to her eyes. He should’ve deleted all their pictures together when they broke up but he couldn’t bring himself to delete them. So he hid them away in a folder and promised to never look at them again. He hates that a distance has grown between them. He has to fix it.

“The only thing I ever cared about other than myself is you,” he mumbles. “Hmm,” she sounds out, not looking up from her phone. He clears his throat, “I cared- I mean I still care about you. Maybe even more than I care about myself.” He takes a second to think about it. “Actually. I definitely care about you more than myself.” The tone shifts in her room and she puts her phone down. He heads over to her, settling on the floor beside her. She looks him in the eyes and her vision has blurred. “Then why weren’t you there? You promised you would be after all the other things you skipped. The worst thing was that you wouldn’t tell me where you were.” He bites the corner of his lip and reaches into his pocket for his keys. He grows through his keys and holds them out to her, “I was out getting this. I didn’t want to spoil the surprise.” She takes the key ring into her hands and a shiny diamond stares back at her. “You were buying me a ring,” she murmurs. He nods, “I wanted to marry you and I know that this wouldn’t have made up for all the other things I missed, but I was hoping it would show you that I was committed to being with you.”

Everything she has felt for him for as long as she has known him comes cropping up and she takes a chance. “Do you still want to marry me?” she questions. His hand rests on her cheek, “More than anything else in the world.” She grins at him with tears leaking out of her eyes. “Then let's get married.” She presses their lips together and swings her leg over him. His fingers lace through her hair, pulling her in closer than possible. As she begins to grind down into him, a loud crash comes from behind him. “I wanted this to work. However, I didn’t want this to work this well,” Topper gripes. Rafe’s eyes narrow at him. “Get out,” Rafe growls at Kelce and Topper, who are standing in the doorway with wide eyes. Kelce and Topper look at each other with a nod. Topper grabs the doorknob and pulls the door closed. “Don’t stain the carpet!” Topper’s voice pleads through the door, causing the newly reunited couple to laugh together.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @wickedlovely121 @thepatriarchykeychain @drewsmusee @starkowswife @maybankslover @forstarkey @loving-and-dreaming @magicalyoura @rubixgsworld

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #rafe cameron imagine #outer banks fanfiction #outer banks imagine #outer banks x reader

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cheolism · 18 days ago

Text

classroom etiquette

✰ — kim hongjoong x f!reader ✷ — summary: you and kim hongjoong are: members of the university english department; writing rivals; great enemies. and you meet in an abandoned classroom. ✰ — wc is approx. 2.5k ✷ — genre: rivals and lovers, smut ✰ — warnings: dom!hongjoong x sub!reader. degradation (brat, slut) and praise kinks, pet names (princess, good girl, etc.). slight exhibitionism. oral (m! receiving) and cum swallowing. dumbification of reader. ✷ — rating: 18+ ✰ — note: for @lovetaroandtaemin !! requested as part of my follower celebration! i hope this is what u wanted! ty for requesting <3 i can't wait to get to know you more <33

in short, yet again mr. kim has proved himself incapable of writing anything where a character has depth. he is so preoccupied with creating a story filled with dragons and intricate government systems that his characters fall remarkably behind. there is no substance to what he writes. he writes purely as an act of god: to create a world that inspires awe. he does not write for the art of it; for the humanity of it.

you grin to yourself, triumphant, as you publish the review to the lit magazine site. kim hongjoong's short story was littered with positive reviews, readers and fellow authors alike praising his elaborate world-building.

they weren't wrong to praise his world-building. you may not like the man and firmly believe he is a stain upon the university's english department, but you wouldn't lie and say he half-assed his world-building.

but, like you said: where he excelled in world-building building he failed in character-building.

each main character was like the next: brave and with a firm moral compass, a yearning to do the right thing. there was no depth. they felt as artificial as his nose ring, which you saw him pull off one time.

and yet, as you navigate to the home page of the literary magazine and look upon the monthly winners, as voted upon by fellow authors and readers, people just eat it up. they eager await everything kim hongjoong puts out.

as evidenced by the shining number one next to his story link.

with yours immediately beneath it.

well, you think to yourself, you did win last month.

still, you feel slighted; wronged. this month's work had been a masterpiece, in your opinion. a careful character study of a widow reminiscing of her life as she looks out the window, watching the sun rise and set and relating it to her life.

it was thoughtful. more importantly, it was human. it was everything kim hongjoong's story lacked.

your laptop chimes, breaking the near-silence of the lounge. you hurry to silence it, finger jamming on the mute button on your keyboard.

you got a new review on your story.

you click on it.

kim hongjoong (@no1likeme): another perfectly boring character study of someone the audience has no care for. every single word of this story reads as if someone was watching paint dry. no action. no plot. it's a poor imitation of a chekhov story, and a million times more boring. it's an insult to the genre. if i wanted to contemplate the meaning of life, i'd take a philosophy class. i wouldn't spend my precious time writing something as cheesy and trashy as this.

immediately, and predictably, you feel your temper rise.

who was he, you think, closing the screen of your laptop with a sharp movement, to judge your story?

just because he needed to fill his stories to the brim with gunfights and far-away dystopias didn't mean everyone else in the world was ignorant of the wisdom and humanity of character studies.

you shove your laptop into your bag, zipping it up angrily.

every story you put out, kim hongjoong leaves a comment on. it's like he's obsessed with you.

(nothing is to be said about the fact you wait for the moment he uploads a story to read it. you shimmer in your thoughts for a week, rereading and deciding the perfect way to weave your thoughts over his latest work. you wouldn't give him the satisfaction of getting a review immediately; wouldn't let him know that you were so eager to read what trash he put out.)

you stepped from the lounge, making your way down the metal staircase.

your work, you knew, was perfect. it was intricate and prompted thought.

just because he didn't understand --

you walked down two flights before stepping off of the staircase. hefting your backpack back onto your shoulder, from where it had been slipping, you make your way down the hall. the english building is nearly abandoned at this hour, a few students littering the hallways, cramming in assignments before they inevitably take the last bus back to their cramped apartment.

you go to the very last classroom on the third floor.

you switch on the lights for the front of the room, the section that is impossible to see by someone walking by and giving a cursory look through the door window.

you settle at the front of the room. the chairs are all on wheels for safety, and it slides gently as you recline into it. you pull out your laptop and boot it back up. kim hongjoong's review tauntingly stares at you.

you screenshot it and then add it to a folder labeled kim hongjoong reviews. there's 30 other reviews within, one for each story you've uploaded to the university literary magazine.

and kim hongjoong had to comment on each one of them.

he's obsessed.

the door to the classroom opens.

in steps kim hongjoong.

he is, naturally, fashionably dressed. black jeans and a black leather jacket, a striped cardigan udnerneath. hongjoong's wearing those stupid black-framed glasses of his, the ones that only seem to highlight the dark arches of his brows and show off his undercut. he's wearing his silver rings, of course, and when he lifts his hand to run his fingers through his black hair, you catch a glimpse of a brown leather watch.

hongjoong looks like he's walked out of a freshman student's fantasy concerning their literary teaching assistant.

you scoff at him. "if you gave your writing half as much attention as you did your clothes, you'd finally have something worth reading."

hongjoong scowls at you, eyes severe. "you really think you know everything, don't you?"

you smirk at him, looking back at your computer. hongjoong comes to the front of the room. he sets his leather back on the ground next to the leg of the table, beginning to pull at the sleeves of his leather jacket.

"leave it on," you demand.

he rolls his eyes. hongjoong continues to take off the leather jacket. beneath it is his striped cardigan, and it's horribly contrasting the undercut and overall sleek look he was going for.

you click your tongue. "shame. i would've said you looked hot had you left it on."

"you're such a fucking brat," hongjoong admonishes. he pulls at the armrests of the chair. it rolls easily in his grasp, and he twists it so you're craning your neck to look up at him.

hongjoong exudes power like this. staring down at you, eyes dark and serious. he's all dominance and imposing, and you can feel something twisting in your gut.

"am i?" you say, eyes glancing down at his mouth.

"you're fucking ridiculous," hongjoong scoffs. then he's swooping down and mashing his mouth against yours.

his hand finds the back of your neck, holding you firm. hongjoong's mouth is demanding, pressing against yours relentlessly, laying claim. he shoves his tongue in, dominant and not wasting a single moment.

hongjoong kisses passionately; he kisses like he's pressing forth all his anger and frustration with you.

you pull back, lips making a soft smacking noise as you separate. hongjoong's mouth is wet with spit from having stuck his tongue in your mouth, and you know your mouth isn't much better.

"seriously," you say, "you write like you're trying to fuck tolkien."

hongjoong gapes at you. and then, "get on your fucking knees, you chekhov-wannabe."

you pout for a moment, putting up a front.

then his hand is slipping up from your neck and into your hair. he guides you onto the floor, taking your spot on the chair.

the floor is cold as you kneel on it, the temperature seeping through the fabric of your jeans. you pay it no mind. instead you watch as hongjoong undoes his belt with a single hand, pushing down at his pants.

"you act like a little know-it-all," hongjoong murmurs. he pushes his jeans down to his ankles, sitting at the edge of the chair. his underwear, naturally, matches the rest of his outfit, black and tight around him.

"well," you say, looking at his bulge. you know hongjoong isn't particularly big, but you know how he fits so perfectly in your mouth. you've gotten wet more than a few times reading one of his stories, imagining him sitting down and writing, dick stuffed in your mouth. "i do know everything."

hongjoong takes out his dick. it's just — perfect. not too thick but still enough to stretch out your pussy deliciously, not too long to where it triggered your gag reflux when he kept it resting in your mouth. it isn't the prettiest dick you've sucked, but it's absolutely the best dick. it curves naturally towards him, ensuring he presses against your g-spot whenever he sticks it in your pussy.

it's just —

you never thought yourself particularly wanton; particularly vulgar or sexual. but fuck, hongjoong's dick —

he runs his hand over his dick. it's flushed from erection, and you watch, transfixed, as he delicately fingers his head and rubs his thumb against the slit, the angle of his hand showing off the watch on his wrist.

"what a little slut," hongjoong laughs. "running your mouth until you get a dick in your face. is that how i gotta shut you up? just get my dick out?"

you flick your eyes up at him. you can feel blood flush to your cheeks. it always feels demeaning to be on your knees in front of hongjoong, letting him bully you.

but you can't deny how drenched his bullying makes your cunt; how it always makes your pussy throb, desperate for him. and you just fucking love playing into it, especially when you know how fucking hard it makes him.

hongjoong slides his fist down his dick, settling it around the root of it. he presses his thumb against the head, pulling back his foreskin. "well? come on, princess. wanted a dick in your mouth so bad, didn't you?"

horribly obedient, you shuffle forward. you place your hands on his knees. hongjoong chuckles, raising his brows over the rim of his glasses. "should make you do it without your hands."

you pout up at him. "joong. . ."

"don't worry princess," he says. "not this time. but —"

you whine.

"don't be a baby," hongjoong admonishes you, though he's lost that severe look. instead he's grinning, pleased with how cock-stupid you are. "i know you just run your mouth and act out because you want my cock in your cunt. say it, baby. say you're sorry for acting out; that you want my dick."

you whine again, nails gently scraping against his thighs. it's always embarrassing how he makes you say such things. it's mortifying how they make your panties stick to your cunt with juices.

"what was it you said? 'no substance to what he writes?'"

"'m sorry," you whimper out. you settle, resting your chin on his knee. you peer up at him, pushing stray strands of hair from your face. "just wanted you, joong."

hongjoong hums, his hand once again delicately moving up his dick. "pretty shitty apology. but i guess it'll do for now."

hongjoong spread out his knees, tilting his dick towards you.

eagerly, like a puppy given the signal to pursue a treat, you lurch forward for his cock.

hongjoong held his dick still for you to press your lips to the tip. immediately you are met with the bitter taste of his precum, the taste of his skin. you slowly, gently, began to lower your mouth around the head of his dick.

"that's a good girl," hongjoong hisses out, hips lightly canting into your mouth. "such a good girl."

you can't help but preen under his praise. this part, where he rambles about how good you are, how you're a princess, you adore too. you love how the words make you heart and pussy flutter, how they smooth the sharp sting of his bullying tongue.

hongjoong glides his dick into your mouth slowly. he savors in the sweet glide of it, in his dick sliding along your tongue, your spit coating it.

you love the weight of his cock in your mouth. whenever his dick is in your mouth you can feel it dull down the sharp edges of your mind. your being becomes centered around his dick, how it feels against your tongue, how little pearls of precum mixes with your spit.

you're usually not crude, but fuck if hongjoong's dick in your mouth isn't the best part of your week.

hongjoong doesn't make you to take his entire dick. he isn't in a particularly mean mood, then. instead he slides his dick until the tip of it is on the back of your tongue, knowing just how much of it you can take after who knows how many sessions you've spent with his dick in your mouth.

"swallow," he commands. you swallow, mouth constricting around his cock. "good girl. good, princess."

one of his hands went to your hair. he guided your head back, his dick sliding around your tongue. drool fell from your mouth as hongjoong withdrew his dick, and you couldn't help but look down and watch his dick, how your spit glistens along his dick.

"good," he says, and then he's fucking back into your mouth.

hongjoong fucks your mouth slowly, his hips gently rolling into your mouth. he fucks your mouth like he's making love to it. endless praise pours from his mouth. "perfect," he sighs, "perfect fucking slutty little princess.

"gonna swallow?" he slows his thrusts even more, languid, biting down on his lip. his glasses have slid down his nose, bangs in his eyes. "gonna swallow my cum, princess?"

you nod, and he groans.

you shift forward. you move your hands up his thighs and slide them around the base of his dick, rising to your knees. hongjoong moves both his hands to your hair, fingernails scraping against your scalp.

you place your lips against the tip of his dick. slowly you take it back into your mouth. hongjoong's grip on your hair tightens as you take his dick further and further into your mouth. you go until the tip of it is hitting the back of your mouth, and then you still.

hongjoong's dick twitches in your mouth.

the need to please him endures, and so you begin fucking his dick with your mouth. you pull off of his dick until it's just your lips wrapped around his tip. then back down to the tip you go, swallowing once your lips are snug around his base. you begin to shallowly bob around his dick, hongjoong's pants, quiet and sweet, coupled with the slick sounds of your mouth around his dick.

when he cums, you can't help but choke. this part of giving head always catches you off guard, no matter how many times you swallow around his dick. you sputter around his cock, only pulling off once you begin to cough.

"good," he murmurs, voice tight. he cradles your face, his hand going to wipe at the cum that splattered on your chin. "good girl."

#ksmutsociety #cromernet #✏️ — writing #⏳ — jupiter's ateez #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fic #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #kim hongjoong fic #ateez oneshot #kim hongjoong oneshot #🪩 — 5k

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delaber · 1 year ago

Text

Firestarter (Loki x Reader)

Summary: After having been granted safe passage to the Avengers’ head quarters, Loki’s delighted to learn that he can pass the time by toying with the hate of the newest recruit.

Tropes: Enemies to lovers.

Words: 4.2K

Warnings: smut, mentions of battle injuries

Find part 2 here

They would all be fools to trust him. They know it. Loki knows it. Hell, even the specs of dust floating around know it!

The only one that seems eager to patch up the growing rift between the opposite sides of the room is the meathead of his brother who is blabbering away, trying hard to ignore the cold air coming from the other Avengers.

He's persistent, you'd have to give him that. They must really love Thor to grant Loki safe passage in their home like this.

- The stab of a thought hits Loki straight in the chest. Sticks to his ribs as he contemplates the sharp hate radiating off of the cotton-clad team opposite him. They don't look the least bit threatening in their oversized casual wear, but they've still granted his brother the upper hand so graciously, and for the first time in a while, he feels the balancing scales tip. It was easier when it was just the three idiots Fandral, Hogun and Volstagg who were fawning over his brother - Sif on occasion too, though Loki had had her in multiple ways Thor could never even wrap his pea-sized brain around.

The thought alone makes the tar on his ribs slowly drip away.

He must've drifted off, lost in thought of Sif with her bare ass in the air because the next thing he registers is Thor's meaty hand between his shoulder blades. "You all know my brother..." he chuckles awkwardly and pushes Loki forwards. Adds his name for clarification when nobody answers. Idiot.

The room's almost dead-silent. Stark scoffs theatrically loud and that Barton fellow turns a lovely shade of plum as he immediately races out of the room without uttering a single word - not that Loki can really blame him; he's killed for less.

Even the newbies on the team are staring daggers at him, though Loki doubts he's ever met any of them before; Captain Rogers' brooding siamese twin, the beefed up action figure beside him and that... woman - the pretty one - her eyes ablaze with a certain kind of hatred that he can physically feel down his spine as she scowls in his direction.

Loki cocks an eyebrow, amused that his reputation precedes him so much that her hate is tangible, and she huffs and pushes through the crowd while the one with the metal arm - the siamese twin - grabs her shoulder to prevent her from stepping too close. It only angers her even more and she shakes off the vibranium hand but stands her ground with her head lifted in cool arrogance, her eyes never wavering from Loki's.

Oh, she really hates him!

The look on her face reminds him of the tales he's heard of Muspelheim. Of Surtur and flames shining brighter than the sun; all of Asgard burning while the glass of the shattered rainbow bridge glistens in the flames and sticks to his skin, covers his hair. With her, there's fire in the air. He feels it immediately and it draws him in.

***

He spends his days in the shadows, observes the dynamics of the Avengers, gathers information in case he has to do something... drastic. He's not exactly planning on betraying the trust his brother's placed in him, but it's never unwise to have a plan to overthrow the Avengers - just in case. So he learns what he can from afar; their likes, their dislikes, their routines. But mostly, Loki just observes her.

She really loathes him which only makes it all the more fun. She storms off whenever he comes close. Flares her nostrils, squares her jaw, stamps away like a petulant child - and he must admit that he does love it! He enjoys having her wrapped around his little finger, that his mere presence can pull such a sincere reaction out of her. It makes the seidr in his veins feel electric; like pure voltage in the palm of his hand as it begs him to show off - show her - what he can do with it. He wonders if this is what Thor feels like when his eyes turn bone-white and arctic blue with lightening.

"I wish you would stop with that."

Loki glances towards his brother, tries to look as bored as possible as if he really doesn't know what he's talking about. "Stop with what?"

Thor gives out a long sigh and Loki is reminded of the first time Thor was disappointed with him; even though it's almost a thousand years ago, he can still smell the sweetness of the stolen tarts he'd hidden underneath his pillowcase and the empty hole in his chest where he knew he should be feeling shame but didn't.

"You know what I mean... It's not nice."

"In case you haven't noticed; I don't care about being nice."

"You're taunting her."

"She's an easy target," Loki hums with remnants of a chuckle, places his hands on the back of his head as he looks over at her. Even as she does something as mundane as drinking her morning coffee, she keeps a wary eye on him. It's entertaining. "You really can't blame me."

"It's not as if she's dangling bait, brother. You hurt her."

"I hurt her?!" Loki snaps, offended, "- when?"

"You really haven't realised?"

"Realised what?"

Another sigh. "Can't you tell she's from New York?"

Loki stops replying after that. Settles on picking an imaginary crumb from off his chest; thin crusted and rhubarb filling. He avoids Thor's gaze. He doesn't feel empty now and they both know it.

***

He'd come running through the compound with the rest of them as soon as the strangled war cry had met his ears.

Half-hiding behind one of the huge stone columns, he takes her in; she's covered in blood from head to toe, panting harshly as she stands in the middle of the hall, daggers still clutched tightly in both hands as her friends surround her. She looks fiery, evil, war ready - like the Valkyries from back home with their spears and their feminine hands skilfully wringing death out of anyone who crosses Asgard.

There had been a time where Loki had been afraid of them, and then, as he grew a little older, completely mesmerised by their raw beauty and the smell of battle as they rode towards the Royal Palace to report back to Odin and his ravens. He remembers standing in the hallowed halls of Valaskjalf with Huginn and Muninn circling above him as the Valkyries take off their helmets and look towards his brother. What he wouldn't have given to have one of them stab him, let alone notice him. Five hundred years later and it still hurts...

Steve Rogers is standing right by her side, not covered in as much blood as she is but still looking relieved to be back home. He sends a nod in Stark's direction and throws an electronic device across the room with a defeated sigh. It doesn't take a genius to see that even though the mission went well, they'd been ambushed.

Rogers takes a step closer to her, puts his arm around her shoulders as to hug her, and for the first time since they appeared in the entrance hall, she howls in pain, collapses on the floor and wrings her face in the most horrible way.

Loki notices the hole in her suit first. Sees how the red comes in pulses and flows down over her shoulder and chest. She's been stabbed, and by the looks of the dark red tissue in the gap, it's deep.

Steve Rogers yelps in shock, throws himself down on the ground beside her and instantly starts pressurising the wound with his bruised hands while his two companions are by her side immediately, ready to scoop her up in their arms and carry her to safety.

Loki takes in the scene unfolding before him; the three frantic men, the spurting blood, her panicked face as she cries. Swears he can hear Hel whisper her name.

"Leave her," he suddenly hears his own voice booming through the echoing hall and it drowns out the whisper.

They all stop dead in their tracks. Look around for him.

He's not sure exactly where all of this is coming from; he really couldn't care less if she died, but he finds himself stepping around the column, and he comes out with his arms raised as if surrendering. "She's gonna bleed out before you reach a doctor."

Action figure-man is on his feet almost immediately: "And what do you suggest?," he hisses angrily, "that we leave her be? Let her die here on the floor without even trying?"

Loki raises his arms a little higher and takes another careful step towards them. "I can help."

"You can help? And why should we trust you?"

"First of all, you shouldn't," he states as he simply cannot help himself. "- But it's your only chance of saving your friend."

"You're not serious!" Tin-man hisses and looks towards Loki while helping Steve Rogers putting pressure on the gaping wound, "as if we're supposed to believe you suddenly care."

Loki wants to bite back but a painful sound from her makes him hold his tongue.

"- We're not gambling with her life!"

"Are you sure?" Loki retorts and it finally makes Captain Rogers look up. "- Because it looks to me as if you are."

Loki cannot see Thor who's standing behind him, but he imagines the slow nod of approval he gives the Steve Rogers trio, because suddenly the Captain gives out a heavy sigh, his eyes downcast. "Alright then," he says in defeat and waves Loki closer while clutching her tight.

"Steve!" Tin-man appeals but his best friend has made up his mind.

All eyes turn to Loki.

He's surprised to learn that he doesn't enjoy it as much as he'd imagined he would. He supposes it's because the main difference between him and his brother has once again been underlined so cruelly.

"If you try anything," action figure man warns and Loki bites back: "What? You'll kill me? As if I haven't heard that before. Now get out of my way, mortal."

He steps forwards, squats down beside her and summons the green sparks in the palm of his hand, looks her in the eye for the first time since the day they'd been introduced. There's fire behind her colourful irises; mistrust, chaos and fear. She leans towards him and with all her strength grabs his wrist. "What - are - you - doing?" she pants and wrings him tightly.

"Saving you," he mumbles and turns his palm around, directs the sparks at her gashing wound.

She gives out a small painful hiss as the wound closes up immediately but her eyes never leave his face. They transgress from pain to panic to relief. He's there with her for the whole ride and it does absolutely nothing to drown the embers inside of him.

"Oh my god," Captain Rogers mumbles and runs his fingers over the newly-formed scar on her front as he stares in disbelief.

Her doubting eyes are still carefully watching Loki, her small fingers still wrapped tightly around his wrist. Her mouth goes slack and she finally lets go of him, looks towards the closed up wound, then back at him. "Thank you," she whispers apprehensively.

It makes his seidr glow fluorescently green in his veins and he gets the sudden urge to fall to his knees and lick her clean.

Had Huginn and Muninn only still been alive, he would've made them watch this up close so they could report it back in detail to all of Asgard.

***

The Avengers are not as cold after that. Still wary of him - as they should be - but the hatred and constant fear is gone. And when she comes back from her bed rest, it tickles him that the first thing she does is to seek him out.

"Thank you," she says slowly, almost controlled, and extends her hand as a peace offering, "- for saving my life."

"You already said that."

"Well, I meant it."

He looks up at her. Her mouth is formed to a pout, her body poised in vigilance, her eyes carefully watching his every movement while her hand extends into dangerous grounds. She's still not sure what his motives are and it gives him the opportunity to toy with her a bit. "...I'm honoured?"

A short-lived flame of annoyance flashes across her features as she retracts her hand back to safety with a huff.

"Did I say something wrong?" he quips in the hopes that he can keep her attention.

"You're trying to rile me up."

"How dare you!" He says in mock offence. "I would never!"

She crosses her arms underneath her chest, "I'm trying to offer you an olive branch and all you do is ridicule me. Are you really that desperate for attention?"

It amuses him. He loves when she shows him bits of the real her. "Are you calling me desperate for attention because I don't care I saved your life?"

“Then why did you do it?”

“It was merely strategic,” he shrugs and hopes she doesn’t detect the lie that tastes bitter on his tongue. Why did he save her? The question’s been nagging him for days now. “- it’s never unwise to have an Avenger owe you their life.”

“Wow,” she blinks and shakes her head in disbelief. "I don't know why we all listened to Thor - he said you'd changed but you're clearly still a conniving snake.”

"A snake?” he smiles, relieved that his lie has her convinced, "is that supposed to hurt me? Trust me, darling, I've been called worse."

"Just a gentle reminder that you'll never be anything but a villain."

"I suppose every villain is a hero in their own mind."

She takes the bait and narrows her eyes. "You absolutely destroyed my hometown. All the places I loved. And you have the nerve to call yourself a hero?!"

"Would you prefer a god?"

She flares her nostrils in frustration, "is everything a joke to you?"

"...Mainly?" he smirks "in case you haven't noticed, I'm the God of Mischief - it's in the job description."

She takes a few angry breaths. "Life is always a performance for you, isn't it? Whether it's an endless need for attention, a humorous quip, or the unfolding of another of your great plans, it's always just for show!"

He's excited to feel that the full-blown anger's back and she's seeing red. And to think he was almost disappointed in her?!

She grinds her teeth. "Just so we're clear, I'm not doing this to imply we're even or to make you feel just the slightest bit better about yourself for what you did. Trust me, I'd still rather see you rotting away in a prison cell. You-"

"I must admit," he drawls, gives himself some time to enjoy her undivided, flaming attention as he so impolitely interrupts her, "I like you much more when you're honest with me. When you admit you want to watch me burn! This front of niceties you just put up? This so-called olive branch while you so uncharacteristically give up control? It doesn't suit you."

She wrings her arms in frustration, narrows her eyes into slits. "You're goddamn insufferable!"

***

She's not more intoxicated than the rest of the Avengers, but she is drunk. Agent Romanoff keeps handing her clear liquor in small glasses that they down in a single second, followed by strings of laughs when the alcohol burns in their throats.

He remembers being drunk like that; fresh, sweet-smelling mead from oak barrels in the hundreds, wine in golden carafes on every table. He used to love the parties him and Thor threw; the chaos, the abundance! A heavy flow of alcohol was always a neat little excuse for his erratic behaviour, but the best part was always when the mead was extra good and strong and he could get Thor to follow his lead. Oh, how they used to cause rampage! They would've been unstoppable, had they only been on the same side.

Loki turns around the brown glass bottle in his hand so he can read the blue label; five percent...

He misses the lightheadedness, the parties, him and Thor being on the same side, Asgard. He's never longed for a taste of home this much before. He looks back at her.

"You're being unusually quiet this evening," Thor says from layers away, "should I be worried?"

"Hmm?" Loki snaps out of it, turns his head towards his brother who's sitting with an annoyingly smug expression plastered on his face. "No, I'm just contemplating this piss they call beer. How can they drink it?" He gives the bottle a sniff and winces. "I never thought I'd hear myself say it but I miss Asgard."

"Is that sentiment I sense in you, brother?"

"Absolutely not," he scoffs and looks back at her and Romanoff as they give out a loud laugh. "I'm glad it burned."

Her eyes scan the room, land on Loki's for a split second too long to pretend they didn't register him. For some reason, it satisfies him. She's aware of his presence.

"You like her," he hears Thor's chuckle from beside him.

"Bite your tongue!"

"I notice you stare at her a lot," he chuckles again.

Loki wants to say something. Wants to make Thor pay for what he's implying, but he doesn't really have a great comeback to that.

***

It's later that same evening when she finally approaches him. Toned legs walking towards him, wide hips swaying up the small set of stairs, shoulders pushed arrogantly back as she determinedly stares him down. She only has eyes for him. Finally.

He can't help but meet her halfway; he leans forwards, balances his elbows on his knees, impatiently waits for her to spit on him.

"Loki," she hums with fire in her eyes when the syllables hit her tongue.

"Yes, little dove?" he quips, excited to see her riled up and finally talking to him again.

"I want to talk to you," she scans the room for unwanted attention before her sharp eyes find his again and he feels the bone-white and arctic blue. "This little game you're playing?" She says harshly, "It ends now."

He almost gives in. Almost. "What game?"

"Don't play stupid," she huffs. "I can't do anything without you keeping an eye on me. Tell me what it is you want."

He cannot help the smirk that appears on his lips and he leans a little closer, spreads his knees apart.

"Answer me," she demands, her chest heaving.

"You haven't asked a question," he says calmly as if he truly didn't notice the way her eyes lingered on his crotch.

"You want me to be sincere," she states and takes another step towards him. "-I want the same thing from you."

She's so close he can smell her; sweet, salty, tang on the back of his tongue. She's ripe like a fucking goddess!

He absentmindedly rubs his thighs. "Darling, I assure you; this is me being sincere."

Her chest is heaving in heavy pants. She's annoyed. "Then tell me exactly what you want from me."

She holds his gaze in an insane power play while he ponders for a second. Should he tell her his intentions? String her along for a little while longer and make her second-guess everything? He is the God of Mischief, he supposes, but she looks so sweet, so damn fuckable as she angrily stares down at him. So he gives in and tells her what he wants. After all, why shouldn't he? What's he got to lose?

***

A decent man would've probably kept her at an arms length, tucked her into bed and told her she was way too drunk to make decisions like this, but Loki's not a decent man. He'll take what he can get and leave the decency to team Cap.

With a flick of his wrist, they're back in his bedroom. She's naked in his lap, pushing her lovely tits up against him as she pulls him closer. "You like me," she whispers and licks the shell of his ear. Moves her pelvis against his leather clothing, "you like watching me."

"Shut up," he groans and pulls her flush against his chest, pushes his tongue past her teeth as he grinds her bottom against his crotch.

Her hand comes down between them, slides down over the trail of hair underneath his navel before her fingers find their way to the buttons of his leather pants, unleashes him without a single touch. She eyes him hungrily but keeps her hands to herself, nonverbally insists she has the power to control him. The way she looks at him: he's so hard, it's verging on torture.

"Tell me you like me," she pulls harshly down on his hair, bites him; draws blood from his lower lip.

"Ah!" he hisses though he likes it! "Careful!"

She yanks his hair again with an evil smile and Loki swears, he almost comes.

"You're a devil, aren't you?" he hears himself say as he smacks her ass and bites her nipple, takes advantage of her little jump to push two fingers inside her pulsing heat. She's gushing already, soaks him all the way down to his knuckles as she rides his hand, pinches her own nipples.

"Say my name," he pulls on her earlobe with his teeth. "Spit on me!"

She finds his eye, gives him the same evil smile as before and whispers a short "no," as she arches her back and pushes her nipple back into his mouth. Cheeky little thing.

He curls his fingers and strokes her g-spot, enjoys the sounds she's making for him. Only for him, he reminds himself and feels his chest expanding with something unfamiliar that makes him want to melt into her. He pushes it away; concentrates on the tangible pleasure and not how it makes his head dizzy.

As if on cue, her hands finally find his aching cock and she starts stroking him slowly. He's harder than ever and leaking already.

He looks down between them; small feminine hands caressing him so sweetly is a fantastic contrast to all the biting and pulling. He feels his chest expanding again. "Fuck!" he hisses and pushes himself into her hand to feel something else. Focus on the pleasure, he tells himself and stutters his hips upwards again and again.

Her fingers are running through his hair and she's sucking on his tongue while her hand sets the pace, runs over his stained head. "You want this?" She whispers, bites the thin skin below his jaw.

Fuck yes he wants this! Wants her! He groans.

"You want to save my life?," she bites him again, pulls on his hair. "You want me to spit on you? Are you so desperate to fuck an avenger?"

He hisses at that, grabs her jaw tightly. "I hate the Avengers!"

"Are you sure?" she smiles devilishly and points at the scar on her shoulder. "Are you sure you really hate us?”

He groans in defeat and releases her pretty face with a hiss and positions himself at her entrance, finally pushes himself inside with the same pace as she lowers herself down towards his hips. “Ah! Fuck!”

It's an immediate collision of universes, Loki is seeing stars and needs a second to come down to earth, to savour the feeling, but he hardly has time to get used to the warm wetness squeezing him tight before she starts moving in long, warm pulses.

He's captivated, enchanted! He bites her neck, holds her down, desperate to keep her bouncing in a speed that makes him flex his toes without making him explode. He wants this to last. He wants this memory of her hatefucking him into oblivion. This beautiful, vengeful woman who's mounting him like a stallion and riding him like a valkyrie riding to battle. "Goddess!" he hisses against her neck and she finally finds his mouth and without the use of teeth, presses silky lips against his, makes everything inside of him glow green with desire. It’s desire, he tells himself though it feels like something else.

"Loki," she finally moans in his ear and he's never heard anything sweeter.

He pulls her closer, fucks into her and smells her skin. Kisses the scar below her shoulder.

He saved her.

His seidr runs crazy, tingles throughout every limb, makes him see everything clear: he wants her to want him and only him!

That’s why he saved her.

His last thought before he completely lets go is of the disaster he knows this will bring upon him; his own, personal Ragnarok visible on the horizon. She has the power to make him crumble, to make him burn brighter than the sun and turn to ash. He feels it already and there's no stopping it.

He thinks of Valaskjalf. Of molten gold and flames licking his father’s throne.

She speeds up, moans his name, fills his chest with fire.

Valhalla, I'm coming home.

Find part 2 here

#loki x reader fanfiction #loki x reader #loki smut #loki fanfic #loki imagine #loki pining #loki x you #loki x y/n #mcu loki #loki angst

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