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yourfavoritewitchbitch · 2 months ago

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Snow Angel

Summary: Steve suggests a snowy drive through Hawkins that gets heated at his favorite overlook.

This is COMPLETELY self-indulgent, because for me, Christmas doesn't feel very festive this year. It's soft and sappy with two people very much in love. This is for anyone that needs to feel something a little extra for the season. ❤️ And since I couldn't get those pictures of that truck out of my head, enjoy some smut!

18+ Only! Minors DNI!

CW: No use of Y/N. Pet names (angel, honey, etc). Fluff. Soft Smut. Slight fingering. P in V. Creampie.

WC: 4K

Snow fell softly, adding to the already six inches or so that blanketed the quiet little world of Hawkins. The forecast called for at least six more overnight, but you hadn't minded. With Christmas a few days away and nowhere to go, it was easy to busy yourself making dozens of fresh baked cookies for your friends and loved ones.

He finally swung open the front door in the early evening, with a shiver but his senses were delighted with the smell of vanilla and cinnamon wafting through the air. Ever mindful, he quickly undid his boots and toed them off at the door, sitting them alongside yours and hanging his coat on the small rack.

A soft smile pulled at the edges of your lips when you hear him enter, taking the last batch from the oven before setting them on the cooling rack. He leaned against the door frame, with a low whistle, eyes roving over your frame.

“Have you been baking all day?” He asks with a grin, cheeks and nose tinted pink from the bitter cold, the soft knit beanie you had gifted him a few weeks ago sitting atop his head.

Turning to face him, you grace him with a beaming smile to match his own. The “kiss the cook” apron, dusted with flour hung haphazardly around your neck made a breathy chuckle escape him as he took a few more steps toward you, holding out a bouquet of red and white roses.

“What's all this for?” Removing the oven mitts so you could take them from him, lifting the flowers to your nose, inhaling the fragrant blooms.

“Just saw them and thought of you.” He shrugs, moving closer, until his hand reaches out to rest on your hip, pulling you into him.

You quickly maneuvered the flowers to the counter to wrap your arms around his neck. He was warm despite the frigid temperatures he had just come from.

“Steve, they're beautiful.” You comment, knowing that he hadn't just seen them. They weren't just supermarket flowers, venturing you to guess he had gone to the square to stop at the flower shop on the way home in this dreadful weather.

“Beautiful flowers, for my beautiful girl.” He smiles, wrapping his other arm around your waist and leaning in, until his nose nudges yours. You wrinkle at the chill, as your lashes flutter across your cheeks before his lips find yours in a soft, tender kiss.

He tasted of peppermints, the same ones he stuffed in his pockets every morning before heading into work, wrappers pushed back into those pockets that you had been emptying every time you washed his jeans.

You hummed, fingers running through his hair at the nape of his neck as he pulled away, leaning his forehead to yours. Slowly you open your eyes to see his golden brown, mossy infused orbs staring back at you.

“Got any plans, gorgeous?” He asks, fingertips running up the length of your spine and back down.

You giggled at the question as you answered, “Just spending the evening with you. Why?”

“How about…” He smiled, gently swaying you to some invisible song he alone seemed to hear. “You and I take a little drive. We can look at Christmas lights, and you can sit really close.” His voice dropping seductively at the last part.

Ever since Steve had brought home that shiny new truck, he had insisted you sit right next to him on the bench seat, making sure you were pressed into his side. His hand would either be on your thigh or slung over your shoulders at all times.

You were hesitant to say yes, eyes drifting to the window, worried the two of you might get stuck out in the cold if the snow continued to come down at its current rate. As if he could sense your trepidation, he cradled your jaw, thumb running soothingly along your cheek pulling your focus back to him.

“I'll make sure it's warm and toasty for you. Want to make some hot chocolate to take with us?” Eyes wide with a mix of reassurance and excitement, awaiting your response.

And how could you say no to that puppy dog look? The pouty lips and pleading gaze did you in each and every time.

Sighing softly, you nod, and he grinned immediately, kissing your forehead and reluctantly pulling back from your warm embrace to fish his keys from the front of his jeans and make his way back to the front door.

As he got dressed, you began making the hot chocolate, opting for instant because you knew Steve would be eager to head out. You left the water to boil, hanging the apron up and padding down the hall to your shared room to change into warmer clothing.

Flannel pajamas were exchanged for wool socks, jeans and a sweater, red to match his. You momentarily stop in front of the mirror to wipe a smidge of flour from your cheek and swipe on some lip gloss before returning to the kitchen just in time for the kettle to whistle.

He returns a few minutes later, waiting by the door, cupping his hands against his mouth to warm them up as you emerge to greet him with a thermos full of hot cocoa for your little adventure.

“Here, my little snow angel.” He says softly, setting the thermos down on the small table in the foyer to grab your coat, helping you into it, then taking your matching beanie and pulling it over your head, ensuring it was snuggly in place.

“Ready?” He asks, with a warm smile that reaches his eyes, grabbing onto the thermos once more.

“Ready!” Parroting with as much enthusiasm, as he opens the front door to the awaiting winter wonderland.

The snow was still falling, large powdery flakes landing all around the two of you as winter's cold embrace fought against your warm attire. The blue and white Chevy Silverado sat idling in the driveway, a warm safe haven ready to welcome you in.

He jogged ahead to get the door for you, waiting until you slid into the seat handing you the thermos before shutting it, briefly illuminated by the headlights as he crossed the front to hop into the driver's seat.

“Shit.” He breathes out, slamming the door against the frigid cold, watching a few flakes melt into the fabric of his jacket. “Warm me up, angel.”

He sweeps his arm around you, tugging you over and gently tucking you into his side, not a space between the two of you to be had. A giggle escapes you as he buries his face in the crook of your neck, icy nose brushing against the underside of your jaw before his warm breath follows.

A few moments pass, before he sighs, placing a kiss where his lips rest against your exposed skin as he reluctantly pulls himself away. Utterly and hopelessly head over heels for the boy in front of you, hoping he can see it conveyed on your face when you lean in, pressing a soft but brief kiss to his lips. A dopey, lovesick grin graces his features when you break away.

“I love you.” He hums, squeezing your waist.

“I love you too, baby, but we can't see these Christmas lights if we sit in the driveway all night.”

He sighs again, knowing you're right. This was his idea after all but being this close to you always makes him feel dizzy. He pulls his arm away from you to put the truck in reverse and slowly eases out of the drive. As soon as he's on the main road, his hand is firmly planted on your thigh.

He throws the windshield wipers on high, fighting against the onslaught of pelting flakes melting on contact. The streets are empty, peaceful even, as the headlights shine a path ahead cutting through the snowy landscape. He takes it slow, rightfully so, as the plow trucks have turned in for the foreseeable evening since no one else seems brave or dumb enough to be out in this weather.

You turn off of your street and head north toward Loch Nora, the wealthy neighborhood that Steve grew up in. It holds both special memories and times he would like to forget but they always knew how to decorate for Christmas.

It's a quiet journey for the most part, passing the hot cocoa back and forth, listening to the radio at a reasonable volume, letting soft rock or the occasional Christmas song fill the comfortable silence. It wasn't long before he turned off into the subdivision, twinkling string lights illuminated the sign as you entered.

Bright, sparkling bulbs of all colors could be seen up and down the sleepy street, as he eased to a crawl, allowing you both to bask in the soft glow and nostalgia. Seeing all the houses lit up paired with him by your side, made your heart leap with an immeasurable fondness.

He rolled to a stop in front of a home tucked away at the end of the cul-de-sac that he recognized all too well. White lights in abundance, clean and crisp, not a strand out of place. Much like the sterile environment he had grown up in. Mrs. Harrington would rather die than ever have the gaudy multicolored lights. Calling the neighbors absolute fools for the mismatched catastrophes.

Your heart aches at the way his eyes drift over the exterior, with a heavy sigh. Christmas was a touchy subject with Steve for a long time, though it was still his favorite holiday. He was never allowed to help decorate the tree, it was a showboat, much like anything else the elder Harrington's did.

The first Christmas with you had brought the magic back for him. A fresh, live tree was picked out and brought into your home, decorated with mismatched ornaments from your childhood, multicolored string lights and tinsel. He smiled and laughed the entire time until his cheeks ached. Now that you shared a home, he enjoyed it even more, spending every evening curled up with you on the couch the entire month, watching a different Christmas movie when you could.

You take his hand, intertwining your fingers, as you look back over to him, catching the way his small frown transforms back into the smile he carried before, bringing your hand up to his lips for a kiss.

He eased back into a slow drive, leaving that house in the rear view, making an exit out of the neighborhood.

“I've got one more place to show you.” He states with a hint of softness to his voice. “It's not far from here.”

“I'll go wherever you take me. We've got plenty of hot chocolate.” Holding up the thermos for emphasis.

You ease back into a comfortable silence, your thumb rubbing soothingly across his hand where you still grasp it. The road gets a little more snowy and the trees more dense the further he goes. The path winds and travels up until he reaches a small clearing, parking it with practiced ease and shutting off the headlights.

Out beyond you lay the town of Hawkins. It looked like a snow globe, lit up from the streetlights and jolly decorations as the snow fell.

“How beautiful!” You gushed, leaning forward in the seat to gain a better look, eyes sparkling in the dim lights of the dash.

“Beautiful.” He uttered, looking at you instead, placing his arm back around your shoulders as you melted back into his embrace, kissing your temple then leaning his head onto the top of yours, muttering “I love you” into your hat.

“I love you too, Steve.” You echo, pushing away from him slightly so you could see his face, taking in the way the moonlight partially illuminated his best features. The angular slope of his perfect nose, the soft lines of his pouty lips, and the curve of his sharp jaw all stood out. His eyes drop as you take your lip between your teeth, studying him as he studies you.

He untangles his hand from yours to find your cheek, his thumb grazing along your bottom lip when you release it, causing your breath to hitch and your heart rate to tick upward as if you hadn't kissed him a hundred times before. Steve always had this effect on you, and you hoped right then and there he always would.

You both lean forward, noses grazing as he tilts your head just right for your lips to meet, closing your eyes. It was sweet and tender, his grip on your shoulder tightening slightly as if you might pull away but you reach up, gripping the front of his jacket to pull him in.

His tongue parts your lips, as you softly moan, melting further into him. He takes the lead, deepening the kiss, as it becomes hungry and heated. That familiar spark of desire shoots through you. His fingers trailing lightly down your neck finding the zipper on your jacket, tugging it down smoothly until your sweater comes into view. His hand snakes down, finding the edge of the woolen fabric, running his palm across your soft stomach, causing you to shudder, before ultimately landing on your hip.

His free hand comes to cradle the back of your head, as he pulls away to kiss a path across your jaw, nipping at your earlobe and finding the little spot below your ear that makes you gasp. He grins against you, sucking a little harder at that spot, his tongue then licking across your skin in a soothing manner.

“Steve.” You say, in that breathless way that makes him moan against your heated skin. You tug at his beanie until it comes free, running your fingers through his already disheveled hair to hold him in place.

His cock is already painfully hard, tented and straining against his jeans, groaning when you palm at his erection, hips grinding upward, pushing himself further against your hand.

“Need you.” He whispers, voice needy and strained.

“Need you too.” Replying as he parts from you momentarily to remove his jacket, watching as you do the same, tossing them both with reckless abandon into the floorboard.

He immediately grabs you by the hips, pulling you into his lap, chests flush, legs straddling either side of his.

He nips at your top lip, then your bottom lip, pulling back with a sly smirk, leaving you a little breathless and wanting before you roll your hips into his as he gasps, gripping you a little tighter to hold you in place.

“Not fair, angel.” He whispers, a soft mumble against your lips before crashing them into yours. You move in tandem, a slow and steady build, tongues dancing and gliding together in a messy crescendo of need and desire.

The cab of the truck is hot, suddenly feeling cramped with far too many layers of clothing between you, breaking the kiss to come up for much needed air you quickly ease off his lap, much to his dismay.

His pout turns into another grin, when you toe your boots off and he sees you unbuttoning your jeans, he starts to do the same. His buckle clicks open loudly, his deft fingers popping the button before unzipping and pushing them down his hips, leaving him in his very festive red and green checkered boxers, as you discard your jeans and panties with the growing pile in the floor.

Turning his head back to you, he sucks in a sharp breath, easing his hand down to rub against himself.

“Eager, are we?” He teases, taking your hand to help you back into his lap, taking up the same position as before, only the thin fabric of his boxers separating you. He presses himself up against your already soaked folds, hands at your lower back as his hips grind up, eliciting moans from the both of you.

His touch becomes more possessive and frantic, easing under your sweater, dancing up your spine and along your ribs, teasing the underside of your bra as his thumb brushes over your hardened nipple through the fabric.

He watches with hooded eyes as your back arches you further into his touch, breath becoming more erratic with each passing second. He roughly pulls your bra down, cupping your breast with his large palm, kissing back down your neck. Your hands grip the front of his sweater, throwing your head back as pleasure begins to course through your veins, when he pinches your nipple between his thumb and finger a moan, louder than the one before is ripped from your chest.

“That's it angel, love to hear those pretty sounds you make. S'just us out here, you can be as loud as you want.” He says in-between peppered kisses across your bared throat, easing his hand down between your splayed legs.

His fingers slide across your slick lips, teasing your entrance. The moment his thumb brushes across your swollen clit, your hips jolt, eliciting another high-pitched moan from you.

“Need your Steve!” You cry out.

“I'm right here, honey. Right here.” He curls his arm tighter around your waist, inserting a finger.

“No!” You breathe out, as he stills his movements.

“No?” He asks, looking up at you with furrowed brows.

“Need your cock.” Pushing at his boxers, with a whine. He chuckles, removing his hand from you to grab your wrists but who was he to deny you? Not when you were perched on his lap looking like a literal ethereal being.

“Okay, angel.” He kisses your forehead. “Ease up for me.”

You do so, allowing him to push his boxers down his hips, his girthy cock standing at attention.

“Ready, angel?” He asks, taking in a ragged breath of his own, before you nod.

“Good girl.” He coos, lining himself up at your entrance. “Just take your time. No rush.” His hand eases up your thigh.

You start to sink down, jaw going slack, tears already pricking at the corners of your eyes when his thick tip breaches, stretching you open in the best possible way.

“Relax, relax.” You hear him say, hands gripping his shoulders, releasing a deep breath, taking him a bit further into your tight heat. “That's it.”

You continue to ease down his length, with gentle praises mumbled breathlessly against your skin, until you're fully seated on his lap.

“That's my good girl, taking me so well.” He hums, wrapping his arms around you, burying his head into your shoulder.

“Ahhhhh! Steve!”

“I know, I know. You feel so good, angel.” Coming out slightly muffled, letting you go at your own pace, though it's killing him, cock twitching inside you as he groans.

Your pussy flutters around him, finally taking it as a cue to move, lifting your hips at an agonizingly slow pace, feeling every inch of him dragging against your inner walls, pausing before dropping back down.

“Oh, fuuuck.” He moans out, gripping your hips, as you start to set a more pleasurable pace, adding rolls with your movements, catching that wave of pleasure each time that thatch of hair at the base of his cock rubs deliciously against your throbbing clit.

The outside world fades away between frosted glass and panting breaths. It's just you and Steve inside the cab of his truck, safe and warm wrapped in each other's arms, connected in the most intimate way. Your bodies slot perfectly together, melding and molding, crashing into each other again and again in perfect rhythm.

Your tempo falters the closer you get to the edge of release, but he's there to catch you. He's always there. Your thighs begin to shake as broad hands start to aid in moving you up and down his length.

His lips part, watching as he disappears into your tight heat over and over, on the cusp of coming undone himself but holding back to see you fall apart for him.

Heated skin finds the frosted glass behind his head, shuddering as the cool pane meets your palm, leaving a perfect print before your continued movements drag it in indecipherable patterns, but a pattern that anyone outside would recognize.

“Gonna come for me angel?” He asks between labored breaths, feeling you tighten slightly around his shaft.

You quickly nod, too far gone to find your voice in the throes of passion. His thumb finds your aching clit, moving against you with measured precision.

That familiar heat rises up through your core, behind your navel, pressure building and building. Your whines get more high pitched, hands grasping at his sweater, wringing it between your fingers to the point that your knuckles have turned white.

He watches, with bated breath, steady praises stream from his lips, falling on deaf ears, your brain no longer registering the words. He sounds so far away but he's right here, beside you, under you and inside you.

The tension finally reaches a fever pitch, like a cork exploding from insurmountable pressure, your orgasm crashes into you with a blinding force, knocking you senseless. You clench and tighten around him, legs finally giving out, ceasing their rhythm entirely as you come undone.

He grips you, bruisingly so, holding you in place as he takes over, thrusting up into you only a handful of times before he's spilling hot and heavy inside of your needy cunt, giving you all he has to offer. He holds you to him, grunting out as his cock twitches with the last of his sticky spend.

Your chests heave, back and forth, shared breaths in the space between you as your heart rates return to normal. No words were spoken, your bodies doing more than enough to convey the feelings you both have.

A lazy, dopey smile finds you when he finally lifts his head. Cheeks flushed, hair sticking to his forehead, eyes sparkling with pure adoration as a soft “hi” escapes him.

“Hi baby.” You grin, with a breathy laugh. The absurdity of such a simple greeting after a complete out of body experience. Your lips find his, soft and slow, relishing in the afterglow for a few more moments.

He hums, pulling back, still breathless.

“We should head back.” He muses, eyes drifting out beyond the window, the snow still falling heavy around you.

You ease off of his softening cock, redressing in the quiet space, the radio playing lowly in the background. You take your place, pressed right in beside him as he eases back out onto the main road, snow already covering your tire tracks from before.

It was a slow ride home but neither of you seemed to mind, huddled together in the warm cab. Conversation flows, making the drive pass in the blink of an eye.

Once the truck was parked safely back in the driveway, he immediately hopped out, turning back to extend his hand to help you out, sliding his fingers between yours, guiding you both into the house.

Coats and boots were shed, outer gear exchanged for matching fleece pajamas. You emerge from the kitchen with an array of baked goods and made from scratch hot chocolate just in time for It's a Wonderful Life to start playing, setting the tray down on the coffee table.

“C’mere, honey.” He scoots over, patting the space beside him, lifting the edge of the blanket for you to slide in. And you do, handing him a mug, taking your own and leaning back into his embrace. The perfect end to a perfect night.

He brings the mug to his lips for a long sip, leaving behind a faint chocolaty mustache across his top lip, making you softly giggle before he turns, licking it away, his gaze settling on you.

His dulcet, sincere smile makes your heart flutter against your ribcage. Here in the twinkling lights and glow of the TV, a picture of what the future might hold was clear.

Steve had similar thoughts swirling around and come Christmas morning he hoped you would say yes right there in front of the tree.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #joe keery #steve harrington truck smut #steve Harrington Christmas fic

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mymindisneverhere · 4 months ago

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FAVORS (1)

warnings: 18+ MDNI!, sub!Terry, soft dom!black fem OC, explicit language, slight smut, a bit of a slow burn (forgive me if I missed any)

summary: Terry starts a new job at a warehouse after losing his life savings. He becomes acquainted with all of the workers except for one… the boss’ daughter.

Part One

Masterlist

“You alright over there Terry?”

“Yeah I’m good.” Terry responded.

He lifted the large boxes with ease, tossing them onto the back of the truck as they traveled down the conveyor belt. With each toss he’d let out a grunt, onlookers assumed it was from struggle but it was nothing other than frustration.

Terry had just secured a job at a local warehouse where he would load each delivery truck with boxes filled with parts for cars, motorcycles, trucks, etc. It was his only option after losing all of his life savings to a crooked police department.

Of course his experience in the Marines and his education made him a quick hire for the position. After a few weeks of orientation, training, and learning his new work schedule, he had fallen right in with the other workers who had been on the job for decades.

She watched him like hawk on the surveillance cameras, her freshly manicured tips tapping the sides of her coffee mug. She didn’t orchestrate any of the interviews or handle any of the paperwork that came with hiring people because she didn’t care to. She was solely there to do one thing and one thing only, find her next partner.

Terry had met all of the staff members on the job during his orientation. Supervisors, team leads, those with special assignments and floor workers, the same as he. There was only one person he had yet to meet, the CEOs daughter, Khloé MacArthur, the head bitch in charge.

MacArthur Motors and Parts Inc. was established in 1989 by a man named John MacArthur. There were a decent number of locations down south but his daughter only visited the ones closest to home. However Khloé visited very rarely, usually to spy on the workers and search for her new piece of meat.

She watched closely, observing his every move. Her eyes roamed from his face, admiring his naturally arched eyebrows, down to his full pink lips, his strong neck, and lastly to his chest that flexed every time he lifted a new box. The gray company shirt he wore wasn’t tight but it was no secret that when he wasn’t at work, he was in the gym religiously.

Jobs that require hard labor always had the perfect associates to fulfill her needs. Usually tall, muscular, a few tattoos and oozing masculinity. There was nothing she enjoyed more than making a big dog her bitch.

This new piece of meat she had her eyes on was nothing like she had in the past. He was pretty, no fuck that, he was beautiful. Everything about him fit perfectly in her sexual fantasy. She could see it clear as day in her mind, his big hands gripping her throat and that tight ass clenching every time he filled her up.

“Ms. MacArthur?” Olivia, the warehouse clerk and her personal assistant, called out to her, interrupting her thoughts.

“What?” Khloé snapped her head in Olivia’s direction, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

“Y-your father’s on the line ma’am, h-he wants to know if you can make it in t-time for dinner tomorrow tonight?” Olivia notified.

“I’ll pick it up.” She rolled her eyes, walking over to the phone. “Knock next time or that’s a write up!”

“Yes ma’am, I’m sorry.” Olivia stammered out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

She picked up the phone and smiled.

“Yes Daddy?” She answered in her usual sweet voice. The voice she used only for her father… and her prey.

“How’s my princess doing?”

“Fine, just doing my check-ins as usual.” She responded.

“That’s my girl, always making sure the business is running smoothly.” He said. “Have you found a date for the annual banquet?”

There it was, the real reason he was calling.

“No daddy, I don’t need a date for a family banquet.” She responded in a fake tone, trying hard to mask her irritation.

“Your sisters got her husband, your brothers got his finance, all of your cousins have partners. Do you want to be the only one there without someone for the third year in a row?” He asked, hoping to hit a nerve.

Every year the MacArthur family would get together and celebrate their accomplishments and achievements for the year. Some families had family reunions, hers had family banquets. They’d dress up in gorgeous gowns and tailored tuxedos just to feast in a ballroom reserved just for them, a few business partners and close friends.

However Khloé hated them because every year they reminded her of how lonely she truly was. The dates she had brought in the past didn’t make her feel seen or loved, they just enjoyed status. Witnessing her siblings and other relatives truly love and admire their significant others had her questioning her ability to be cherished and loved by someone other than family.

A husband wasn’t necessarily the end all be all for an ambitious and independent woman like her but she wouldn’t mind having someone to come home to every night. Someone she could truly be herself with.

“I’ll have to call you later Daddy, I’m busy right now.” Khloé said, trying to end the conversation.

“Okay princess, but I will see you at dinner tomorrow… alone I’m assuming?” He was pushing her buttons again.

“Goodbye Daddy.”

She slammed the phone down onto its receiver, making the cord bounce violently. She stared down at the brand new business phone, one she had begged her father to purchase. She wanted to upgrade the phones and computers in each warehouse. Just because the buildings were old didn’t mean the technology had to be.

After a few minutes of collecting her thoughts and attempting to bring her emotions back down to zero she went back to lurking from the small office window. She was beginning to come up with the perfect plan that would involve the perfect man.

“How long were you in?” Earl, a man in his late 50s, asked Terry.

“Four years.” Terry responded, continuing to toss the boxes like they weighed nothing. “You?”

“Man I went in in ‘85, saw all that shit they wanted us to do, told ‘em they could kiss my ass.” Earl stated unapologetically.

Terry couldn’t help but to laugh at the older gentleman. His thick southern accent made what he was saying ten times funnier than it actually was.

“I understand that.” Terry said.

“But you young bucks got the heart for that type of training,” Earl said, wiping the sweat from his forehead. “Me, I been a old nigga all my life.”

“Oh yeah?” Terry continued his laughter.

He genuinely enjoyed Earl's company, he was one of the first few people to introduce himself to Terry. It didn’t take long for him to warm up to the older guy, seeing as though his extroverted personality made him so many friends.

The long conveyor belt had stopped, letting them know that it was time for lunch. They tossed the final boxes onto the truck and slammed the back closed before walking away from their stations.

“How long you been here?” Terry asked, placing his hands on hips.

“20 years.” Earl responded.

“That’s a long time man.”

“Who you tellin’?” Earl joked. “I remember when this company first started. I didn’t think it would last long. A business like this ran by a black man in the south? I just knew them white boys would tear this place to shreds.”

“What you think stopped them from doing that?” Terry asked.

“The same thing that’ll make anybody do something they don’t necessarily agree with-,” Earl looked over at Terry with a surprised expression “-money.”

“Olivia!” Khloé called, approaching the large desk that sat right at the front of the building. The words “MacArthur Motors and Parts Inc” plastered on the wall in big red letters.

“Ma’am?” Olivia answered, tearing her eyes from the computer screen.

“Who is the new guy?” Khloé leaned onto the desk trying to keep her voice low so the employees passing by wouldn’t hear her.

Olivia turned to the file cabinet on her right, stuffed with folders designated for each employee in alphabetical order. She scanned her slim fingers covered across the tabs before landing on his name.

“Richmond.” She said proudly. “Terry Richmond is his name.”

Khloé took the folder from her hands, flipping through each page carefully. She immediately began heading back to the office to figure out how she was gonna go about getting him.

“Ms. MacArthur, I actually need that to finish his new hire forms.”

“I’ll handle it!” Khloé yelled from down the long hallway.

“Thanks?” Olivia said in a confused tone.

The break room was becoming empty as workers began to head back to their stations. Terry kneeled down to get the water that had gotten stuck in the vending machine, putting up a bit of a fight to retrieve the beverage.

She stepped into the break room slowly, not wanting him to hear the loud click of her expensive pumps. The muscles in his back flexed as he tugged on the water. Finally getting it from the bottom of the machine, he still hadn’t noticed her standing there. She planted her feet together, standing just a few feet away from him.

“Terry, right?” Khloé asked.

He turned his head to see her feet first, his eyes trailing up her body and landing on her face. She stood there, hands behind her back, a small smile on her red colored lips. The black suit dress she wore fit her petite frame perfectly and her thick black hair pulled into a sleek ponytail topped her business attire.

“Yeah and you are?” He said looking up at her with a raised brow.

“I’m Khloé,” She answered, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He stood, his movement seemingly in slow motion as he grew taller and taller, eventually towering over her. He took her hand and shook it suspiciously. He couldn’t think of one reason why a woman like her, dressed the way she was dressed, would be in a warehouse wandering around.

“Khloé MacArthur, I’m the owner's daughter.” She said, hoping to rid him of the obvious skepticism she saw in his expression.

“Oh, Ms. MacArthur.” He said in surprise, immediately changing his expression. “My apologies, you scared me for a moment there.”

“No need to apologize. I’m usually traveling, I’m hardly ever here so I understand.” She assured him, staring into his eyes.

She held onto his hand longer than she planned to, not noticing until his eyes darted down and back to her face.

“I’m sorry-“ She said, finally letting go of his hand. “-it’s just, your eyes are so beautiful.”

Terry looked down, blushing a bit.

“Thank you.” He said, returning his eyes to hers.

“You hear that a lot, I’m sure.”

“I do.”

“When did you start? I know I haven't been here in a while but I’d definitely remember seeing your face.” Khloé asked, shifting her weight onto her left leg.

“A few weeks ago actually.” He answered.

The eye contact was almost intimidating but Khloé wasn’t a woman who folded easily, even standing in the presence of this Earthly God.

“How you liking it so far?”

“It’s good. I’m still getting used to the scheduling, a lot of coffee in my diet lately but it’s pretty cool.”

“Not an early bird, huh?”

“No ma’am.” He turned to look back at the clock on the wall and she took this quick moment to get a close up of his chest, flexing as he turned. She bit down on her bottom lip before he could notice.

“I hate to be rude Ms. MacArthur-“

“Khloé” She interrupted.

His lip folded into a slight grin. “Khloe, I have to get back on the floor, my lunch is over. It was a pleasure meeting you.”

“The pleasure is all mine.” She smiled up at him as she watched him walk away, her eyes scanning the back of his body.

“That is an ass on that man.” She whispered to herself before heading back to her side of the warehouse.

4 hours later

“Another day, another couple hundred dollars, young blood.” Earl announced, swinging his bag over his shoulder. “You got plans for tonight, you know it’s “Free shot Friday’s” down at Frankie’s?”

“Nah I’m good man, I don’t drink much.” Terry said, placing both of his arms into the straps of his backpack.

“You know Terry’s a good guy-“ John, another man shouted from behind the two of them. “-he ain’t no drinker or smoker.”

“Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that, that’s why he built like a gladiator and we walkin’ around with beer bellies.” Earl joked, receiving laughs from the other men in the locker room.

Terry chuckled, placing the last of his work items into his locker before leaving the locker room. The only thing left for him to do was clock out for the evening and head home.

“I see y’all boys on Monday, y’all be safe.” And with that Terry left the locker room, heading to his truck.

He reached into his pants pocket to grab his badge and swiped it across the small box designated for clock-ins/clock-outs.

He exited the building walking to his truck, relieved to be at the end of another workday. He searched his pockets for his keys unaware of the pair of eyes that had been on him the entire time he spent in the parking lot.

She watched the TV screen closely, each quadrant displaying different areas in the building and parking lot. It had been two years since she had been with anybody but this was the first time she had this type of craving for someone.

Sure she had flings here and there but this longing was so strong, she could practically feel him inside of her already. Like his energy was pulling on hers, begging her for connection.

Khloé could still smell his scent, the mixture of cologne and sweat as if he were standing right behind her. She could still see the thick veins in his arms, permanently in her memory. She couldn’t wait to find out if he had those same veins on his dick, licking her lips at the thought of feeling him along her tongue.

*Knock Knock*

She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts and grateful for it.

“Come in.”

“The night shift are all clocked in and at their stations, are you ready to go Ms. MacArthur?” Olivia asked, her large purse hanging off of her shoulder.

“Yes, let’s go.”

Khloé grabbed her purse, her keys and Terry’s employee work file and headed out of the office.

She paced back and forth in her living room, biting the insides of her cheeks. Her feet sank into the white plush rug as she read over the pages for the 10th time, trying to piece this man together.

She had been looking over Terry’s file for the past hour now. She studied every page, every background check, every piece of information they had on him but unfortunately it wasn’t much.

Walking over to her computer, she wiggled the mouse and slammed herself into her large desk chair that sat against her window. The heavily lit view of downtown shined lights through her windows along with the full moon up in the sky as she began her research.

“Terrance Richmond, former Marine, Born June 7, 1994.” She whispered to herself, typing each word as she spoke.

‘He’s 30, perfect.’ She thought.

She searched his name to see if she could find him on social media.

No Twitter.

No Facebook.

No Instagram.

“Who the fuck is this man?”

She continued searching, scrolling for what seemed like hours until she stumbled across an article for a small town called “Shelby Springs”. The article titled “Ex-Marine Exposes SSPD” caused her invisible antennas to perk up.

‘Former Marine, Terrance Richmond, helps stop corruption invading Shelby Springs. After officers unlawfully seized $36,000 from Richmond, the last of his savings intended for posting bail for his late cousin, Richmond took matters into his own hands. One man gets justice for himself, his cousin and others who were wrongfully convicted.’

“So he’s some sort of hero?” She licked her lips, smirking to herself. The fact that this one man had gone to war with a police department full of cops and won made her nipples hard.

She could feel the gears in her head begin to turn as she finished reading the article. Learning about his time in the Marines and him being trained in martial arts, he was the perfect candidate for her future escapades.

Images flashed in her mind. Images of her hands against his bare chest as she rode him, the view of him looking down on her while she went down on him, him sitting back and watching while she played with herself. Each scene sent a shiver down her spine. She crossed her legs tightly rubbing her thighs together to create a pleasureful friction.

Khloé didn’t want to fully pleasure herself just yet. She knew the build up would be so worth it, she could feel it. She needed to contain her desire for an orgasm. She wanted to be sure that he was the one to give it to her.

Shutting down her computer, she closed his file and placed it on the counter next to her purse. She went into her bathroom and started the shower turning the knob to the far right to make the water cold.

After about 15 minutes of washing up and bringing her arousal back down she prepared for bed. She got into her large queen sized bed, topped with a thick white comforter and smiled to herself…

so her mission begins.

to be continued…

#aaron pierre #aaron pierre fanfiction #aaron pierre x black fem reader #aaron pierre x black reader #rebel ridge #terry richmond #terry richmond fic #terry richmond x black!oc #aaron pierre fic #terry richmond x oc #terry richmond x black female reader #Terry Richmond x black fem reader

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f1girliefics · 4 months ago

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Finally

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: Of course, everyone wanted him. He is a Champion after all.

A/N: Massive thank you to everyone who voted! Hope you enjoy!

You understood.

He was a winner.

The most wanted man currently. He was a Formula 1 driver, rich, single and famous.

Every woman wanted him.

But it didn't help your jealousy.

You have had a crush on him for the longest time. You knew him from the moment he joined Red Bull.

Keeping it a secret had been difficult as everyone around you knew about it. Even Chris made jokes about when you two will get together.

And yet, he had no clue.

And you liked that.

You didn't want him to find out.

It's not like you had a real chance with him.

He used to date models for God's sake. They were all thin, rich and had the personality of a moth. Okay, you might have added the last part.

But still.

You were simply the social media manager for Red Bull.

You were… simple.

But jealousy hit like a truck out of nowhere. He showed up at an event with a woman.

She was pretty but she wasn’t the sharpest tool in the shed. She fully believed DRS means “Doing Rather Shitty” after Lance made a joke.

Then Fernando made a joke about how the cockpit is called that because they used to have chickens running around and they jumped on the cars.

You were dying of laughter. And she fully believed everything.

But she was beautiful.

You had to agree with that.

But when they walked back to his car, hand in hand, your stomach sank.

"Jealousy is dangerous." Fernando stepped closer to you as he sipped his drink.

"Talking from experience?" you turned and smiled at him.

"Maybe." his look made you laugh.

Little did you know that Max watched you laugh with Fernando and he couldn't help the feeling in his stomach.

---

Much like everyone else's, the Monza Grand Prix was your favourite.

You just loved the buzz and the excitement. Everyone hoped Ferrari would win.

Even you had a little soft spot for the team during a weekend like this.

You would steal glances at Max when he wasn't looking, and your heart would flutter whenever he smiled as his engineer was talking to him.

The Grand Prix ended with Max coming out on top.

As a way to celebrate, he invited you to a picnic in the park.

You just couldn't resist the opportunity to spend more time with him, so of course you said yes.

You spent hours picking out your outfit.

And when you arrived, Max had everything ready. It looked... romantic.

As you sat on a blanket under the shade of a tree, you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

You knew that this was the perfect moment to finally confess your feelings to Max. Even if it would ruin your relationship, you didn't want to hide in the shadows any longer.

Taking a deep breath, you mustered up the courage to speak with your heart hammering in your chest.

"May, there's something I need to tell you," you began, voice trembling slightly. But you knew, you couldn't watch him with other women any longer.

Now or never.

Max turned to look at you, his eyes filled with curiosity but he allowed you to continue with a simple nod.

"I...I've been in love with you for as long as I can remember," you confessed, and felt your cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. "Ever since Chris introduced us... and I am tired of pretending that I am not."

To your surprise, Max's face broke into a wide grin.

"I've been in love with you too, from the moment I heard you laugh" he said, reaching out to take your hand into his.

Your heart filled with joy as you realized that your feelings were returned. You sat there in the park, basking in the warmth of your newfound love, knowing that you had finally found happiness in each other's arms.

All of your worries just left you when he leaned over to kiss you.

What a weekend.

From that day on, you two started sharing secrets, and dreams and laughing together under the stars.

You couldn't believe that you had kept your feelings hidden for so long.

The next day, when you announced your relationship everyone just said, "Finally." and congratulated you.

Looked like you two were truly blind, but you didn't care about that anymore.

All you could care about was that you were finally his and he was yours.

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eddiernunson · 2 years ago

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Really Drives Me Mad | Bfs Dad!Eddie Munson x Reader | 18+

Master List | Next Part

My best friend tells me that he's a keeper

I really like Dylan a lot But Dylan's dad He really drives me mad With his faded tats Sings in a cover band Yeah he's super hot with his ripped dad bod Oh my, oh my god I like Dylan a lot But oh god I love Dylan's dad

I know y'all weren't expecting this... Well neither was I. It like invaded my mind and begged me to write it. (this is the dirtiest thing ive ever written.)

Word Count: 7.5k

Summary: You've been dating Dylan Munson for a little bit, and it's going well, or at least you feel like it is. Despite everything right with Dylan you can't help but feel uneasy...then you meet Eddie Munson, his dad... and find yourself wet at the sight of him. (reader is in her 20s, Eddie probably in his 40s or so)

Warnings: masturbation (both), voyeurism (both), lot of perv!Eddie, reader ends up cheating, just some dirty stuff. MINORS DNI.

As you sit cross legged on your best friend’s garage couch mindlessly watching some Netflix while she took another hit, your phone dings, a text message you’ve been waiting on.

“Ooh, speak of the devil.” She teases you, putting the bong aside to peek at what Dylan texted you. You roll your eyes at her, answering him to pick you up in the morning. “What did he say?”

Her eyebrows were wagging over-exaggeratingly, and you narrow your eyes. “Just asked when I wanted to get picked up for our trip to the beach tomorrow.”

“Are you excited?” She asks, her voice suggestive and you can hear more excitement in her voice alone than you felt about the trip.

“Yes.” You lie to her, because if you told the truth, you knew you’d hear about it.

Dylan was a good guy. You met him through a singles mixer you went to for shits and giggles and ended up meeting him. He had no business being there, his league was not the type of girl to go to a Fajita style mixer even for laughs. He was so overwhelmingly better looking than every other guy in that mixer that scooping him up before anyone dug their claws in was the logical thing to do.

It wasn’t that you didn’t find him hot.

Dylan ended up being almost everything you said you were looking for. Stable. Ready for commitment. Willing to go the extra mile.

He was stable in every way it takes most men into their 30s to figure out.

You knew he was a rare find as someone dating in your 20s. Yet, there was just something missing.

It wasn’t anything you could describe, and each time you had expressed the feeling people seem to dismiss it, claiming it stemmed from every failed relationship you’ve had. Logically, you should be head over heels over this man who is so sweet and willing to do the most.

But the feeling just nagged at your skull.

For the sake of not feeling guilty and seeing that same bug-eyed expression on your best friend you lie. It felt weird to have to lie to her just to seem grateful for what life has provided to you on a silver platter. So, until an actual reason for this hesitancy presents itself, the dates and the heavy make out sessions and whatnot will continue.

The ego boost he provides when he sends you drooling emojis when you send a bikini selfie for what you’re wearing the next day certainly doesn’t help your case.

“I’m so glad you found him, he’s so sweet.” She mentions off-hand.

You nod, gritting your teeth.

Dylan is on time, as always, prompt and proper to pick you up from your apartment. He texts to let you know he was outside, and you grab your beach bag of snacks and your towel and do a final assessment in the mirror.

Cute pink bikini that hung by a string sitting high on your hips, barely hidden by the long cut out dress you wore. Your bag matched the bikini, and you wore some tiny sunnies to put the whole look together. If you’re gonna date someone as good looking might as well look the part.

As you approached his chevy truck he was animatedly bug eyed while looking at you, his brown eyes popping out of their socket while he drummed his steering wheel. His zest and energy for life was always so contagious. You smiled at him, your cheeks burning as you climbed into the passenger seat.

“Hi baby.” He greets you, kissing you softly. You find yourself grinning into it.

He pulls out onto the main road for the forty-five-minute trip to the lake most people go for a weekend getaway. About five minutes down the road, Dylan pats his cargo shorts down real quick and grunts in disappointment.

“What?”

“Forgot the parking pass for the beach lot. I literally got that for fifteen dollars so I wouldn’t have to pay twenty at the till.” He explains, making a sudden left turn.

You’ve been to his house before, and he usually takes you there when his dad is either at work or just not home. You weren’t sure why, his dad seemed like a decent dude.

(From what you’ve heard anyway)

Maybe, like you, he wasn’t ready for meeting the parents yet.

“Oh, I think my dad will be home around now. Hope that’s okay.” He says, as if you had just spoken aloud. “I think it was time for you to meet him, anyways.”

Shit. Nope. He was ready. You were no where ready for him to meet your mom, who already loved him just from your best friend’s descriptions.

“Oh. Sure.” You glance down to your outfit, something worn not knowing you were about to meet parents. “Are you sure I’m dressed for that though?”

“My dad has met girlfriends in worse positions.” Dylan laughs. “Trust me. This is a better meeting.”

This helps you very little.

Five minutes down the road he pulls into the starter home he and his dad have been living in his whole life, a sweet little bungalow with three rooms and two bathrooms. It was by no means anything to cough at, certainly impressive for a mechanic, but Dylan seemed to behave incredibly sheepishly every time.

Dylan pulls in, and your heart races as you see his dad’s truck in the driveway. As Dylan gets out to open your door, he can feel your nervousness. “Can I just stay here?” You ask him, unsure why he needed you to go in for a pass in the first place.

“Oh I promise he doesn’t bite.” He jokes.

You give him a weak smile, holding his hand as you walked to the front door. The door doesn’t need a key, swinging open and the bright sunlight giving you both a shadow against the hardwood flooring. Dylan walks in, calling for his dad’s name. You squeeze his hand tighter out of nervousness. Eventually the sounds of his creaky steps are heard from the kitchen where Dylan is scanning for his pass, signalling his father coming down the steps.

You were facing towards the stove across the island counter, watching Dylan go through the drawers for it.

“Woah, thought you’d be halfway to the beach by now, you were so damn excited.” You hear his dad’s voice, and there’s something about it, his tone leaning towards a tease that enticed you to turn your head towards him.

Your jaw dropped. Or it didn’t. Certainly felt like a moment for your mouth to open in amazement. In a split second you knew where Dylan got his good looks, and it was only a fraction of how mouth watering his dad was.

He wonders in with sweatpants low on his hips wearing a band t-shirt and his long curly hair was wet from a shower. As he shuffled by to the fridge, the scent of aftershave invaded your nose and somehow it just went straight to your core. He was certainly fit even for a dad, slight dad bod but nothing to poke at, you could tell he worked with his hands.

“Forgot my pass.” He mutters, looking through another drawer.

“I saw it this morning, so I put it in your bag as you were heading out.” His dad mentions off hand, getting the ingredients for a bowl of cereal out. As he lifted his hands over his head revealing a tattoo on his tummy and the treasure trail saliva entered your mouth like water bursting through a man-made dam.

“Seriously?” Dylan dead pans. He turns to you, and you switch your glance to seem innocent like you haven’t been eye-fucking his dad. “I’m gonna go double check it’s in there. Just stay here be right back.” He kisses you on the forehead and leaves without giving you a chance to protest.

“Nice, to meet you, by the way.” He says in a gruff voice as he pours the sugary cereal into the bowl.

“Nice to meet you, too, Mr. Munson.” Your voice sounded strained; you were hoping you were just imagining it.

He lets out a noise in disgust, his face scrunching up comically. “Oh god. Don’t call me that. Call me Eddie. Never Mr. Munson. Gross.”

You smile closed mouthed at his genuine disgust for it, and Eddie presents a smile as if your laughter was the long-term goal. “Nice to meet you, Eddie.”

“Much better.” He praises you, and it might be the closest thing you’ll ever get to the kind of praise you wanted from him, the kind where you find yourself on your knees in the kitchen, but you happily accepted it. Any crumbs you would happily take.

He could spit on you, and you would thank him.

Oh. That’s…new.

That wasn’t something you felt with Dylan at all. If Dylan had decided to spit on your face during sex, you would call the police. It would turn you off so fast you would kick him off you.

“Going to Lake Maureen?” He asks you, supposedly making small talk.

“Nope.” You tell him. “Museum.”

Eddie tilted his head, and from his shoulder’s shaking and the slow smile you could tell he was laughing.

“Yes.” You affirm.

“Where did you meet again?” Eddie asks as he puts away the milk, his voice seeming to extend from a thought he doesn’t share.

“Oh, a mixer.”

“Not the church mixer.” Eddie tilts his head, seeming genuinely fearful it was the truth.

You confirm that yes, it was the church mixer.

Eddie grabs a mug to pour the coffee you hadn’t noticed had he put on. As his hands cup a graphic mug you couldn’t see the comic for, you see the silver rings on his fingers and if your core wasn’t heated up before, it certainly was now. He leans forward, taking a sip of straight black coffee for a minute. “Sweetheart. You’re far too pretty to be going to a goddamn mixer. No wonder he was so fucking enthralled when he got home that day.”

You feel your face heat up at the nickname followed by him calling you pretty. Your thighs squeeze together as you attempt to force your heart back into your chest where it belonged. Somehow your extremities were freezing, and all the heat was centered in your pussy, just soaked from his presence alone.

He could tell you weren’t taking the compliment seriously. “Seriously. If he fucks it up and you end up single again no more fucking mixers for you.”

“Not like I had any more choices.” You defend yourself, not knowing why his insistence turned you on so much.

Eddie rolls his eyes as if he didn’t believe you. His mouth opens to tell you something, and the sound of Dylan bursting through the front door seems to cut him off. “Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and you guessed you were supposed to follow him. “Um, you were gonna say something?” and the mystery is just too much for you.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie shrugs, putting his coffee mug down, having chugged that entire cup within the conversation. “Have fun.”

He scoops another spoonful of sugary cereal in his mouth, the dimples on his face prominent but the smile devious.

That smile would haunt you for the next twelve hours.

The trip with Dylan was alright, he swore up and down it was the best trip and it just brought you both closer as a couple. You probably would’ve agreed. A trip to the beach with Dylan Munson sounded enticing and sexy and adventurous for the most part until you met his dad.

Now thoughts of his flexed forearms has he gripped the counter while talking to you, wet hair smelling beautifully of the musk shampoo he used invaded your mind. Dylan fingering you on the beach under your skirt was yes, smoking hot, but as you imagined a certain someone else doing the same it brought you to your orgasm much quicker and much harder. Dylan figured he must be doing something right.

Guilt evaded you as you knew what the hell you were doing was wrong. You now had an excuse to get rid of him, you were far more into his dad than you ever were into him, and it should’ve been a sign.

But if you broke up with him now, you wouldn’t be able to see his dad. Yet as you took a walk down the shoreline into a cave and your eyes close picturing certain ringed fingers gripping your hips as Dylan did it made the sneaking off and the public sex that much hotter.

Seems you were sluttier than your initial sex life led you to believe. Turns out, you just haven’t met a man you wanted to be slutty for. Public sex seemed fun in theory, always so nerve wrecking in practice.

Public sex with Eddie felt like you wanted to get caught with him, fully enjoying his cock and letting people see. Voyeurism mixed with public embarrassment was suddenly hot and you got so into it that Dylan expressed how excited he was to fuck you on the next hike you took together, something he has expressed much interest in, but you denied bashfully every time.

Because with Dylan sex wasn’t all encaptivating. Sure he could make you cum, but you were never ready to rip off his clothes in a heartbeat. The moment you saw Eddie your fingers started to itch for that damn low sitting sweatpants for them to droop just a little…bit…more.

Dylan drops you off with a romantic wet kiss, and you walk into the door of your apartment in a daze. Before you can even think about it, you find yourself on your bed, your skirt around your ankles and two of your fingers down your bikini bottoms.

You start to take them off but there’s a voice you picture saying, “No, no. Keep them on like the whore you are.” It was not Dylan’s.

You listened to it, pretending to rub your clit in front of him watching. You could see a wild eye on his face, picturing him not being able to touch you driving him mad. The heat that expands into your pussy from that thought alone drives your hips for more friction. “Oh so fucking needy, yeah?” You imagine him saying to you, and fuck, you couldn’t not think of him being good at dirty talk. “Need this cock, don’t ya?”

The image of him slowly working the elastic waist-band of his sweatpants made you moan aloud, needily grinding on your own fingers.

“Too damn bad. You’re just gonna have to make yourself cum, like the slut you are.”

The slight foreplay you were accidentally given all day through your own imagination mixed with how fucking wet you were brought you to a quick orgasm, fluttering in your extremities as you continued imagining the wild eyes on Eddie’s face or the firm voice as he didn’t give you a choice on your dating pool.

This was the first truly earth-shattering orgasm you’ve ever felt in your life. One that you truly had to recover from…and it was from just picturing this man.

Something in you wanted the real thing, and you were terrified of how willing you were to go through with it, and equally as terrified of going through life wondering what it could’ve been like

If sex with Eddie Munson was as good as the orgasm you gave yourself, you might have to be Dylan’s stepmom, because you just found what was missing.

“Hey baby.” Dylan says, welcoming you as he opens the door.

You hold your pillow and a duffle bag sits on your shoulder for a sleepover, and the shorter shorts with a tank top you wear signalling you were ready for a night in. As you pass by him, Dylan gives out a low whistle to how well your ass is shown off in the pair of shorts you wore. They were so well fitting he could see you were either wearing a thong or nothing, but you could tell it turned him on. While this gave you a confidence boost, he wasn’t the target audience.

When you requested the sleepover Dylan warned you his dad would be there. Good. You assured him that would be fine. That was the goal.

“Hi, sweetheart!” Eddie calls down to you, and the smile invades your face before you could stop it.

“Hi, Mr. Munson!” You call out, and the sound of gagging is heard. “I meant Eddie!”

“Oh, I forgot he gets everyone to call him by his first name, like a lame youth pastor.” Dylan rolls his eyes, tugging on your hand to bring you to the couch in the living room. “Movie?”

You nod jerkily. Dylan works around you, getting a blanket, popcorn, and the movie all set up. He turns down the lights, winking at you suggestively as he does so.

Less than five minutes into the movie, the beginning credits still lingering on to the actors he leans in with an open mouth, his hand making its way to your hip. With the smell of him still fresh, being able to smell him on the couch you were on, it was easy to get eagerly into the kissing. This encouraged Dylan, of course confusing your eagerness for him. He reaches down, placing two of his fingers over your clothed pussy.

You moan lightly, and he shushes you softly. Mentally you roll your eyes, because he was telling you to be quiet because his dad was home.

You were hooking up with him on his couch because his dad was home. You listen to him anyway, and he starts to rub in small circles, you moan even higher, imagining he could hear you and getting off to it. “Shh, baby.” Dylan whispers. “Oh, you’re wet. Fuck.”

He slips his hands into your shorts, leaning you down to rub your pussy and attack your neck at the same time. “Pussy feels…mazing.” Dylan mutters between the slobbery neck kisses he gives you. It was enough for you to picture him, but suddenly Eddie coming downstairs right now without knowing what you were doing got you off even more.

“Eat me out?” You ask him, and ever the gentleman he smiles devilishly at you as he crawls down. He goes to place the blanket over his head, and you stop him. “Wanna see your face.”

Okay, you wanted to see Eddie see your pussy as his son went down on you, but it made Dylan eager enough to dig in in a way you haven’t seen from him yet.

You whine from the hot pleasure it gave you, you grind on his face, the heat focused on your pussy in a way that has never happened before. The idea of Eddie accidentally walking in on you but watching instead of saying anything gets you off so easily Dylan is feeling your juices wet his chin and your ass like it never has before.

“Greedy baby.” He mumbles, placing two fingers into you and giving kisses to your thighs as he pumps them.

“Gonna cum soon, Dyl.” You warn him.

Luckily, Dylan knows it means to keep doing what he’s doing. You were close, but the sound of footsteps upstairs followed by a door closing pushed you over the edge, knowing he could very well be going to his room from elsewhere, but hoping he was at the top of the stairs.

Just the possibility of him being at the top pushed you over. “Holy shit.” Dylan mutters, crawling up to you. “Must’ve been riled up, huh.”

“Yeah.” You tell him, suddenly feeling Dylan’s boner poking the inside of your knee. “Mere, I wanna help you.”

“No, I wanna fuck you, let’s go to my room.”

His room…down the hall…where there’s a better chance he could hear you. “Sure!”

Eddie Munson was sure there was something out to get him. The moment your pretty fucking face greeted him in his kitchen when he wondered down fresh from a shower he was sure there was something laughing at this pure misery.

The smile on your face, the smell of your sweet perfume, the way your skirt hugged your hips all melted him into one pot. When you told him you met Dylan at a fucking mixer, he wanted to shoot the person who made you feel like you were worthy of being ogled at by a bunch of singles at an awkward church mixer.

A church mixer.

He hated that Dylan liked them, always said only weirdos go there and was sure Dylan as exaggerating when he expressed how gorgeous and out of his league you were.

His heart freezing at the sight of you sit perched on one of his stools, shyly watching your boyfriend, even only from the back made him wonder if angels were real. Fuck, he didn’t ask for any proof of your beauty when offered to show your Instagram, but he wouldn’t have believed it.

He spent that entire first conversation doing everything he could to be a fucking father figure and remind himself you were dating his son. He was not hitting on you at a bar, he was your boyfriend’s dad.

Somehow that just made the forbidden part about it that much hotter.

He felt like a pervert as the scent of your shampoo jumped out at him when he passed by you for the milk, and he had wanted to stop in place and take a big inhale. Felt like an even bigger pervert as he saw the string of your bikini bottom sitting high on your hip peaking out of your skirt and he just wanted to get a shot of that underskirt.

Every thought he had about you as your wit came through the conversation, he wondered what the hell you were doing with Dylan. He loved his kid, but you deserved better than what he knew his kid would provide.

He knew about Dylan that he’d be a great husband one day. Someone reliable and trustworthy enough to build a life with.

He didn’t want that for you. He wanted you to have something mind-blowing and earth shattering, something intoxicating. Something that made you feel the way he felt just by smelling your goddamn shampoo. Your teeny tiny bikini with your hair up in a messy bun with cute little sunglasses all somehow went to his cock, and he was glad you were called over before he said something even more stupid.

Eddie rolled his eyes at your claim there wasn’t a bigger dating pool, opening his mouth to retort--“Oh, you should’ve told me, we could’ve been almost there by now. Come on, baby! See you dad!”

The door slams, and that concluded the end of that conversation. “Um, you were gonna say something?” you ask him, and he wondered if the intrigue on your face was something he just imagined.

“Oh. Was I? Totally forgot.” Eddie lies. I was gonna say I am proof there is a bigger dating pool than you would believe, sweetheart… but he knew it would’ve said something he couldn’t unsay.

Dylan told him you were coming over for a sleepover, and he and Dylan’s room were only separated by the bathroom. Eddie might use the basement for the night because he didn’t trust his perverted mind not to seek you out and look at what little pjs you have chosen to wear. He gave you space out of respect when you arrived, wondering if it was flirting when you called him Mr. Munson.

Suddenly a noise that Eddie could only describe as the doorbell to heaven (or hell with what his mind was thinking) reached the door he had kept open for this very reason.

He kept his tv playing and sneaked off to the top of the stairs, hoping to catch his kid getting you off while you moaned under the covers. The treat he was given was far better, the hand over your tight ass shorts feeling you up as you leaned back and whined all high pitched. Eddie’s cock was so hard at the moment not touching it would be like self-neglect.

He backed up against the wall by the stairs, listening to your moans as he got you off, desperately wishing it was his fingers in your wet heat. He imagined your scrunched up face as you made those stunning noises, starting to stroke himself. A pause occurs, your blissed out voice asking him to eat you out. He bites back a moan at wanting to taste you, wanting to get all up in those juices and to show him how much you turned him on. He leans over the wall into the stair entry, expecting the blanket to be covering you but instead being met with your pussy on full display.

A low guttural moan escapes his throat, fucking into his fist and pretending it was you bent over for him instead, whining the same exact way. He knew you would have a pretty pussy, but this was just un-fucking fair.

You warn Dylan you were about to cum, and that pushes him over his own edge, and he suddenly has a mess he needs to clean up all over his fist. God he wanted you to clean it, to suck it all up. He was making himself hard again and he had to flee to his fucking bedroom to wash up.

Suddenly the creak of the stairs erupts as he is cleaning himself up, and Dylan’s door closes. Oh. They’re…continuing.

Your moans are suddenly loud, and Eddie finds himself hard again as he realizes he’s hearing you being fucked. Oh, he knew you were a fucking dirty slut.

Just fucking knew it. Something that hasn’t happened since he was in his 20s, but he’s ready to jerk himself off within minutes of just cumming. “Yeah, my whore being fucked open, letting everyone hear how good she feels, oh shit.” Eddie mutters to himself, right next to his door.

He ends up finishing at the same time you did, which didn’t take either one of you very long.

The next morning you wake next to Dylan sleeping with a big smile on his face. To him, that was the best sex you’ve ever had together. Mixed with your adventure at the beach last week, you guys were doing better than ever.

To you, it was only amazing because you kept thinking of Eddie fucking you and it did everything for your core. You get up in the tiny pair of pajamas you had packed, something that barely covered your ass and headed downstairs for some breakfast.

As you were leant down to assess the cereals, you heard the stride of someone come in behind you.

Eddie walks in behind you, holding back a swear as he sees your pussy peaking out of your pajama bottoms. A gentleman, and not knowing you fully reciprocated every horny thought, he ignores it and hopes you sit up.

You don’t, leaning even more forward and making a show of wondering what to eat. Eddie inhales, allowing himself to watch you. You turn around to him jerking his head away, and you felt some pride in getting his attention. “Morning.” You greet him, offering a bowl for him.

He rejects it. “Not hungry.”

“Oh.” You pour cereal, and Eddie focuses on not staring at your beaded nipples peaking through the tiny silk top you wore.

“Fuck.” He whispered, the boner growing.

“Something wrong?” You ask him innocently, and knowing this was working to your benefit made you nervous but eager.

“Lots to do today.” Like jerk off another three times.

“Like what?” You asked, taking a spoonful of cereal even though you had no appetite from the butterflies in your stomach.

“Oh not much.” Eddie wonders to you, and by reaching over you to grab the cereal he wonder if he could sneak a smell from your shampoo.

You sit up as he leans away, and you are so close you can see just how gorgeous he is. God, those brown eyes. “Do you have any…one to do?” You ask, glancing back and forth between his pretty lips and his even prettier eyes. You didn’t even know which ones to focus on.

Eddie leans in a bit to you, just ghosting over your lips. “Are you sure…that you want this?”

You nod, your eyes glazing over in want as the arousal in your gut suddenly exploded into a need.

“Cause…cause if we do this there is no going back. If your pussy…” he inhales sharply, taking a breath of your hair. “is as good as I imagine, there’s no way I’m giving you back.”

This sentence turns you into gelatin, and you lean forward to finally kiss him, his lips rough as he seemingly forgets how to act for a moment.

His brain finally catches up and he grabs onto you, inhaling and messy kisses, and grabby hands all at once as he tries to do everything he’s wanted to. Your hands make their way into his hair, and it was as soft as you pictured it. His lips messily kiss down your jaw onto your neck and you let out a whine. He smiles widely at that. “Good. One I made. Needed that.”

“You heard me…yesterday?” You asked, wetter from the idea of it.

“Heard you? Fucking came to it.” He swears, as he continues an assault on your neck. You moan in response, your hips involuntarily grinding up. “Come on, upstairs.”

You almost wanted to get caught by Dylan, but to keep it going longer you follow Eddie giddily upstairs as he trips over himself and you felt like a goddamn teenager. You follow him into his room, and the curtains were blackout curtains, the lights turned off giving the illusion of everything being dark. “Can we turn on the lights?” You ask, delicately. “I wanna see you.”

Eddie turns on his dimmer switch light so it was low, and the look in his eye as he approaches you sat on his bed had a level of lust in them that drove you wild. He leans in to give you a kiss after sitting right by you, and it wasn’t enough touching for you. You crawl forward as you eagerly kissed him back, straddling his lap. “Fuck, sweetheart, you are fucking gorgeous.” He mutters, the silk pajamas you wore bunching up in his hands as he grabbed at it. “The little strap that peaked out of your skirt tied together was just tempting me to unwrap you like a present.” He huffs, still kissing your neck. You find yourself impatient, wanting his lips back on yours.

“Fuck, been thinkin’ about you on my cock ever…” he inhales your perfume with a deep grunting sigh of content. “ever since.”

You mewl to his confessions, and he’s a much better talker than you could’ve imagined. Your hips start to grind on their own accord and with the little fabric they have between your silk shorts and his thin pajama pants you felt his hard cock fairly easily. You let out a high moan of contentment, and Eddie watches as you grind on his cock and get yourself off so easily. “Oh shit, she’s a dirty slut, hey.” Eddie comments leaning back and watching you grind yourself. “Doesn’t even need a cock inside her, will just take anything I give her with a smile on her face.”

“I would—” you gasp, the material scratching your clit in the best way, “I would take any crumbs, fuck.”

You start to moan higher and grind faster, and Eddie wanted to make you cum by his hands or his mouth the first time but you making yourself cum against his pants meant he was now using this as a fucking cum rag to smell you when you weren’t near. “Take off those shorts, doll. Wanna see your pussy.”

“Ok.” They are yanked off without a second thought.

“Oh, good listener. What a good girl.” He comments petting your hair gently as you continued to grind again with your heat now directly against his pj pants, he could feel it against his cock. “Oh, fuck, you are soaked. My fucking horny slut.”

“Horny for you.” You whimper the edge just right there.

“Whoring herself out for the Munsons.” He comments, sort of bitter he had to hear you fuck his son before he could claim you.

“Pictured it was you.” You admit, your voice in a whisper as you confessed but the high you wanted almost there.

“Fuck, did you?” He asks, the idea you only enjoying it so much because you pictured him.

“Mmhmm. Pictured you watching me, too.”

“Fucking little voyeur.” He whispers, and you nodded. He rewarded you by grabbing your hips and rutting against you and hitting your clit even harder and your orgasm snuck up on you, and the extra attention Eddie pays you as he watches it wash through you only helps the high take longer to recover from.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, a last of the intense orgasm still running through you.

“Not done.” Eddie whispers, a big smirk on his face. He lightly pushes you down and grabs your legs and puts them over his shoulder. You watch him carefully, his face looking at your pussy at a way that would usually resolve in embarrassment. Instead, it only turned you on more because it meant he wanted you just as much.

He dives into your pussy with a level of expertise that only came from years of pleasuring women. You don’t know why but you knew he got off to pleasuring others from the moment you saw him and every moan you let out he absorbed it, getting better and better as your verbal ques direct him. The heat in your pussy intensifies as he continues, fucking two of his fingers into you.

You place your hands in his hair, grinding up when the feeling of wanting to be fucked takes over you. “No, patience baby. I need to see what you look like when you squirt.”

“I-I can’t—”

“Every woman can, sweetheart. Just means you’ve had no one show you yet. Feel that?” He asks you, the heat in your pussy expanding as he continued to attack your clit and finger fuck you.

You nod, the feeling in your gut like a tidal wave of pleasure.

“Focus on it.” You do, and as you do you look up at his eyes, already staring into yours as he assesses your reactions. The heat intensifies by a thousand, and the feeling of wanting to…pee…takes over.

“Fuck—” you start to protest.

“Let it happen. Let go. It’ll feel so fucking good…baby let go. Gonna feel so fucking good.” You trust him so you let go and a gush invades your ear as a red-hot pleasure makes home in your pussy. “One more?” Eddie asks you, his thumb now messaging your clit.

You twitch under him, your bud being so sensitive. “Oh fuck, Ed. Too much.”

“No, I think you can cum again. Wanna see that beautiful face all scrunched up. Wanna take a photo.” He holds out his phone casually, and your face heats up. “Not feeling all the sudden shy, are ya? You whored your little pussy for me how is this different?”

“Its…” you manage out, already close again. “Its hot.”

“She gonna cum again, all over my fingers?”

“All over your fingers.”

“You gonna lick em clean?”

“Can we share?”

Eddie groans audibly, titling his head back. “Of course, doll. Of fucking course, now cum all over them, please.”

The third orgasm takes over your body, and it’s so goddamn good you stop responding for a minute which causes Eddie to panic. “Oh shit, you okay?”

Giggles burst out of you, the kind of post orgasm giggles you’ve only read about in spicy novels. You thought they were fake. “Can I suck you off now?”

Eddie’s eyes bulge, and he realizes his hand is still on your pussy. He taps it lightly, causing you to whine. He lifts the finger first, inserting it into your mouth. “Suck this first.” You wrap your tongue around it, keeping eye contact as you taste yourself, and this is the only time it’s ever been truly hot to be able to taste yourself. Other times it was just perplexing.

Eddie takes the other finger when you let go and starts sucking on it, he closes his eye, enjoying the taste of your pussy on his tongue. Eddie crawls onto his bed and you basically pounce him, yanking his pj pants down as fast as they go, wanting to see his cock. His eyes watch you, blown and enwrapped in lust as he watches your eagerness.

As his cock pops out of his pants, an involuntary smile spreads across your face. The head to his cock was so pink, he must’ve been horny. “Oh, pretty cock.” You mutter, and he wasn’t even sure if you were saying to him or just saying it out loud. “Oh my god, look how pink your head is. Mmm..sure seem like you need some attention.”

You take the head of his cock into your mouth, sucking on it alone but getting used to his girth. Holy he was gonna hurt even with how wet you were. You start sucking on it, taking bit by bit more into your mouth each time, eagerly making sloppy spit sounds as you did so. It wasn’t hard to generate the spit you needed, the sight of his dick made your mouth water.

Your head bobbed up and down on it, illicit sounds being drawn out of him, only encouraging you more as the feeling of his rings harsh against your scalp making you wet. You pop off him, spit connected from your mouth to his dick. You lean forward to his treasure trail, licking the hair and biting at it, something you’ve wanted to do since you saw him. You find your way back down and passed his cock and he’s about to ask when take one of his balls into your mouth, sucking loudly.

“Oh fuck, do you know how to use that pretty little mouth. Holy shit.” You roam over it with your tongue, sucking it in and out repeatedly. Then you move on to the next one, giving it its own show as well. Your mouth moves back to suck on his cock but he tugs on your hair to bring him up to you.

“Want you to face fuck me.” You say to him, still not done sucking on his cock.

“Nother time. Lemme fuck you.” He mutters, tugging on the shirt you still wore. You crawl back up to straddle him, nothing between his cock and your pussy now, but he places his cock on it so the shaft slides in-between your folds, teasing you, and causing you to whine. “Oh shit.” He works on the buttons holding your silky pink shirt, the skilled hands working fast through each one. As each one reveals another inch of skin, he feels more intoxicated by you, especially how you’re begging him to put his cock in. Your tits fall out of the shirt, and he rips the back off you, and you let it fall to the floor. You grab onto his band shirt, attempting to move it off him. You barely do it, the feeling of his cock so close inside you causing your focus to fall apart in seconds. He laughs, nearly cruel, yanking the shirt off, revealing more tattoos you’ve never seen. Your hands flutter to his chest, moving to each tattoo and touching every inch you can.

Your mission to focus and analyze each tattoo is interrupted by him maneuvering you onto your back. You lay there, open and ready for him. “Holy shit, fucking smoking hot.” He mutters, like he couldn’t believe you were here with him.

It was you who was the lucky one, he was crazy.

“You’re hotter.” You mutter, as he starts to align his cock with your entrance. “Thought of you last night, made myself cum so hard.”

“Oh fuck. What was I doing?” He asks, still teasing you with it.

“Just watching me finger myself. Talking me through it. Calling me a whore.” He groans, tapping his cock on it. “Please, Ed need your cock.”

“Beg for it, you fucking slut.” He whispers, something taking over him.

“Please, daddy. Want your cock. Want you to fuck me like a ragdoll. Please, pretty please fuck me until I’m a puddle. I just want your cock in me, so fucking bad.”

“Gonna be a good slut for me?”

“Yes..I will I promise.”

He chuckles darkly and finally…finally moves into you. Your eyes cross and a moan so erotic leaves your body and you had barely a single ounce of control over that left your mouth at that point.

Eddie puts his head into your neck, feeling your head tighten around him in pleasure as you got used to his girth and length.

“Move…please?”

“Thought you were gonna take the crumbs I gave you, slut.” He mutters.

“Fuck. Sorry.”

He smiles and your fingers fidgeting at your sides were a dead giveaway you were just needy for him to move. It made him feel fucking powerful just his cock could make you feel like this. He starts rocking, slowly and you whine from this resolve alone. “Oh what a fucking whore, just needed a good fucking.” He mutters into your ear, his hand finding its way to your neck. “Putting her pussy on display for me, showing she just needed someone to know how to fuck her.”

You say nothing in response, and his hips are starting to rock against yours harder. Your eyes reach the back of your head as you lose air, but you revel in the feeling of nearly passing out as he takes his hand off. “Holy shit, you really are just a whore.”

You nod, eyes half lidded as you looked up at his pussy drunk eyes. “Little…cockdrunk…slut…” he inhales sharply and a wad of spit hits your face and you find yourself opening your mouth for more. “Fuck—” his hips stutter at the sight of your smile when his saliva hits your mouth. He spits right into it as you open for more and you act like it’s the best thing you’ve ever tasted, cause it was.

Your tongue pokes out, gasping in more need. His hips are against yours so harshly you would’ve been afraid of bruising if it didn’t fucking turn you on so bad.

“Fucking slut, you want me to cum in you? Wanna be filled with my fucking cum?” You nod, too cocked out to speak, you’ve never felt this good from penetration alone before. “Cum with me, doll.” He mutters using his two fingers against your clit as he leans in to kiss you. Within moments you flutter around him, moaning into his mouth and he lets go of your kiss, stuttering his hips and letting out a loud moan as you feel him fill you up.

His body weight collapses ontop of you, and his hands are suddenly gentle as they sweep at your bangs sticking to your sweaty forehead. “Fuck.” He mutters, giving you a dazed-out look of pure adoration. “That was much better than anything I came up with.”

You nod in agreement, words still not coming to your mouth.

“You were such a good girl, yeah?” You smile, a heat coming up to your cheeks. “You listened to me so well. C’mere.” He wraps your lips in a kiss, his cock still in you, still hard and keeping all his cum in you.

“C-can we stay like this?” You ask timidly, not wanting his cock to leave yet.

“Ooh, baby wants to cock-warm? Sure. Wanna turn on a movie until 9, when Dylan usually wakes?” Eddie asks, already leaning towards the channel changer on his beside table.

Having to tell Dylan it was pretty much over the moment Eddie kissed you hadn’t even crossed your mind, and it would eventually twenty minutes into the movie when you got back to earth. Eddie knew the realization would kick in eventually so he let you watch a movie of your choice, sitting up on his bed with you straddled on his lap after a bit of maneuvering so you could both see the movie on his screen adjacent to his bed.

Eventually, Dylan was gonna wake.

Eventually, a storm would hit.

But for now, Eddie stayed inside you to pretend like it wasn’t over yet.

As always i Love reading comments, replies, reblogs <3 remember reblogging is the best way to support on Tumblr

Taglist: @pinkcowracing @yourthebrokengirl @skrzydlak @thirddeadlysin @sammararaven @bebe07011 @prettylovley @josephquinncore @forget-you-morelike-fuck-you

#eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #stranger things fanfiction #older eddie munson #older eddie munson x you

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mochinomnoms · 9 months ago

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Riddle + Yuu’s telepathy for an hour+ Floyd next to him= Why is Riddle looking like he is about to have another Ob?

He now know Floyd is into him, more wild if Floyd has the same 18+ thoughts as Jade. Riddle’s hair is becoming white and his cheeks go as red as his hair because Floyd is also thinking of the most domestic scenarios with him.

He can’t catch a fucking break.

Worse if Yuu and Jade are there. Holy fuck Riddle will die.

When you begged Riddle to let you test your new power and transfer your telepathy over for just a class period, he was just trying to be a good friend.

And he was mildly curious how your mind reading powers worked. He was under the assumption that you had to choose a specific person and listen into their thoughts for it to work. Which made your predicament with Jade all the more humorous to him. If you were so bothered by it all, then why did you listen in?

My cute little Riddle~ Aaaah, you're so bright. So red. I love your red hair, your red cheeks when your mad. Should I call you Goldfishie again? To piss you off? So you can yell at me with those pretty gray eyes and voice? Aha, maybe I should~

I think I should beg for the Prefect's forgiveness after this. I am so, so sorry. I didn't realize how bad it was.

Riddle had no clue how you handled the influx of noise, color, and feeling bashing into your head all day. It was like having a horn ringing straight into his ear while a truck's headlights flashed right in his eyes.

Even worse than that? He could make out the singular, most irritating noise, louder than the rest.

My little goldfish, my little tyrant, my little Riddle~

The bane of his existence. The enforcer of Octavinelle. Currently, the third-tallest student at Night Raven College.

"Uh, Riddle?"

Riddle took a deep breath, closing his eyes and turning towards Silver with a polite smile.

"Yes, Silver?"

Silver opened his mouth, closed it again as he paused, and opened it again.

"Are you alright?"

Cute little goldfish~ So bright and red~

"Yes." Riddle ignored the heat pooling under his face. "Why do you ask?"

"You're incredibly red right now. I think even your hair looks pink compared to your face."

Riddle made a strangled sounding noise as he buried his head into his arms and hid against the desk.

"Riddle?" Silver sounded concerned, and Riddle could sense his hands hovering over him, like he wasn't sure if Riddle needed a pat on the back, or to be left alone.

"I'm fine, I just need a moment—"

"Little Goldfishie~"

Riddle bolted up, his head nearly smacking against Floyd's chin based on the way the teal-haired man felt backwards.

"Wow! Cool it Goldfishie!" Aw, he's so cute! "Just tryin' to say hi~"

The image of himself in Floyd's arms and lap, nuzzled up against each other as the other contentedly played with his hands flashed in his head.

My goldfishie! My little red tyrant! My Riddle! Mine, mine mineminemineminemine—

"NO I'M NOT!"

The room went silent, everyone looking over at the group of three. Noticing that Riddle and Floyd were interacting, everyone shrugged and resumed their conversations after a moment.

"Uh, what?" Floyd looked and sounded confused. Now that Riddle was paying attention to him though, he could make out a soft look in his eye.

Aw, are you red 'cause you're sick? Is my mean little mate sick?

Mate? Mate?! MATE! OH GODS NO!

Do I gotta take you to the nurse? I can do it! Anything for my future mate! Aha~ I love my mate, I'll take such good care of you.

Riddle was met with another image of Floyd and himself in another...sweet scenario. One where Floyd was watching him sleep in with one of the most tender looks Riddle had ever imagined on Floyd's face. As he slept, Floyd played with the coral colored ring on his left ring finger.

"Nothing! It's nothing! I'm fine!" Riddle scrambled out of his chair, face still warm and his stomach nauseous.

"I think I'm just feeling a bit feverish, I think I will step out for a bit—"

"You want someone to take ya to the nurse?" Floyd asked, while Silver nodded along. "I can take ya, come on Lil' Goldfishie—"

"I DON'T NEED AN ESCORT!" Riddle shut his mouth as soon as he opened it, some of the other students giving him a look for his volume.

Aw what, come on! Floyd frowned, though it breifly was hidden by one of Floyd's lazy smiles as he shrugged.

"Whatever you say~" Floyd cooed, his eyes following Riddle as he rushed out of the classroom. Riddle could feel his entire body heating up, like Floyd knew that he knew.

Once he was out of the classroom, he near bolted to the nearest bathroom. Locking the door behind him, Riddle turned to look at himself in the mirror.

He was indeed his characteristic shade of red. Instead of his usual angry expression, though, was one of fluster and breathlessness.

Riddle let out a small, high-pitched whimper as he turned for the faucet for some cold water, splashing it on his face. He looked up at the mirror again, cheeks still bright red, and let out a whine.

I will never make light of you again, Prefect, I promise.

#mochi asks #twisted wonderland #twst #riddle rosehearts #floyd leech #floyd x riddle #florid #ptm #telepathy is all fun and games until your worst enemy starts having domestic thoughts about you two being married

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naomijoestar · 2 months ago

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⋆.ೃ JJBA SCENARIOS ࿔*:･

Main Masterlist

Genre: comedy, fluff, platonic

Characters: bucci gang

Warnings: none!

Notes: ahhh writing block ;( I have been trying to come up with something for my Jolyne story but I got nuthin’. So feast on this because the idea popped outta no where and I love it <3

GN!reader and this is completely platonic

Bucci gang getting woken up by you dying your hair in the middle of the night

It’s one in the morning. The reasonable part of your brain knows you should be asleep, but who listens to that part? The chaotic part of your brain, the part that’s whispering, “Dye your hair bright pink,” is clearly the better choice. And in your sleep-deprived, slightly unhinged state, it feels like an excellent idea.

You rummage through the bathroom drawers and miraculously find a box of hot pink hair dye—where did this even come from? No time for questions; the dyeing begins.

It takes about an hour, but finally, the masterpiece is complete. You stare at your reflection. A vibrant pink explosion is sitting on your head. At first, you’re speechless. Then reality smacks you in the face like a truck.

“WHAT HAVE I DONE?!” you scream, the sound ricocheting through the halls of the gang’s shared hideout.

Bruno is the first to respond because Bruno is always the first to respond. He storms into the bathroom, his pajamas neat and crisp like he somehow anticipated this chaos.

“What’s going on? Are you hurt?” His eyes dart around for threats until they land on your hair. He stops. He blinks.

You turn to him, panicked. “BRUNO, I LOOK LIKE A PEZ DISPENSER.”

Bruno sighs the sigh of a man who has been through too much. “Why… Why didn’t you just wake me if you were having a crisis?”

“I DON’T KNOW!”

Bruno pinches the bridge of his nose. “We’ll fix this in the morning. Go to sleep.”

By the time Bruno is trying to calm you down, Abbacchio is dragging himself out of bed. He leans on the bathroom doorframe like a disgruntled vampire.

“What… the hell is going on?” He glares at you, then at Bruno, then back at you. His eyes narrow at your hair.

“Is that…” He pauses for dramatic effect. “…a cry for help?”

“It’s a mistake!” you wail.

Abbacchio snorts, then turns around. “Not my problem. Deal with it yourselves.” He starts walking back to his room but mutters, “Pink suits you, though.”

Mista is next, and he’s a mess. His sleepwear is mismatched, and he’s holding a pillow like he’s ready to fight someone with it.

“Who’s dying?!” he shouts, eyes wide. Then he sees your hair.

“Oh. It’s worse than dying. What the hell happened to your head?”

You groan. “I had a moment, okay?”

Mista grins. “You look like a flamingo, bro.” He laughs so hard he almost drops his pillow.

“DOES THIS LOOK FUNNY TO YOU?!”

“Yes,” Mista wheezes.

Narancia stumbles in next, rubbing his eyes. “What’s going on? Is it breakfast time?”

“MISTA CALLED ME A FLAMINGO!” you shout, pointing accusingly at the laughing Mista.

Narancia blinks at you. “Oh, wow. You look like one of those highlighter pens Fugo uses.”

You groan louder, throwing your head back dramatically. “I’M NEVER GOING TO LIVE THIS DOWN!”

Narancia pats your shoulder. “I think it’s cool. You’re, like, glow-in-the-dark now.”

Fugo is one of the last to arrive because, unlike the others, he actually needs his sleep. He shows up scowling, his hair sticking up in all directions.

“Why is everyone screaming?” His voice is sharp enough to cut glass.

You turn to him, frazzled. “Look at my hair!”

Fugo stares at you for a solid ten seconds. Then he mutters, “I woke up for this?”

“You look like bubblegum,” he deadpans, then walks away. “Don’t wake me up again unless someone’s bleeding.”

Finally, Giorno emerges, looking… annoyingly perfect for someone who just woke up. His hair is still immaculate, like he was born immune to bad hair days.

“What’s wrong?” His voice is calm, soothing. Too soothing.

You gesture wildly to your hair. “THIS. THIS IS WRONG.”

Giorno tilts his head thoughtfully. “I think it’s nice. It’s bold. Confident.”

“IT’S PINK.”

“Yes.” Giorno nods, as though you’ve just made a profound observation. “You’ve made a statement. That takes courage.”

You slump against the wall, defeated. “I hate this.”

By morning, you’re still rocking the Pepto-Bismol look, but you’re slightly calmer. Bruno helps you schedule a salon appointment, Giorno keeps insisting it’s a good look, and Narancia starts calling you “Highlighter” as a new nickname.

Mista, of course, makes bird noises every time you walk past him.

Anyways, I hope this is enough to feed you guys because I know I’ve been keeping yous hungry :p sorry about that. If you enjoyed this make sure to check out my other posts, and if you’d like anything specific written for a jjba character/squad you can request it if my requests are open!

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cherie-doll · 5 months ago

Text

𓆩♡𓆪 Headcanon: Convincing Them To Get A Pet

⊱⊰ Price, Ghost, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Alejandro, Phillip Graves, Keegan, Hesh Walker, Logan Walker, König, Horangi, Nikto

Price

You kept bringing stray cats home

Every time you walk through the door, hands buried in the pockets of your tightly wrapped coat, John turns his head and asks "What've you got in there?"

"I don't know what you're talking about" and a meow can be heard coming from inside your coat

He makes you take it off to find a cat and her kittens snug and warm in the inner pockets

"They were cold..." you say sheepishly when he sighs

Ghost

He has to take care of you and now you want a pet??

Says he has enough on his plate with just you

You’re blowing up his phone sending him videos of animals or shoving the phone in his face

“Simon, Simon! Look at this! We should totally get one.”

“…That’s a spider. Why would you want that?”

Soap

He had also been wanting a pet for some time now, he had an exotic animal in mind until you got chickens

"...Are we going to eat it?"

"Johnny, no."

Now he has to wake up early and feed them every day when the sun rises to when the sun goes down

The chickens have grown on him and he's even named them, gets upset when you or someone jokes about eating them

Gaz

Is totally fine with any pet as long as it’s nothing too out of the ordinary, so you got bunnies

You'll let them roam around the house sometimes and Kyle hates when you do that because they tend to chew things and it's somehow always his things

Imagine Kyle falling asleep in your bed with the pink comforters and the adorable fluffy baby bunnies (yes i'm making a reference to that one tiktok)

Roach

Unfortunately for both of you, you are weak when it comes to animals

You’re both fawning over the cats and dogs in the animal shelter, cuddling with the baby goats at the local farm even if they’re chewing your clothes and head butting you

Together you’ve owned your weird assortment of pets; ducks, goats, spiders, snakes etc.

I headcanon Gary is a nerd when it comes to snakes and bugs

Alejandro

In the moment, you manage to convince him pretty easily, until you actually bring home the dog you wanted

Pretends he doesn’t like petting it or getting near it

Even curses when he has to get up at night to let it out for it to use the bathroom

But ofc within a month he’s totally smitten over your pit bull

Spends money on buying it nice collars and food, taking it out for a drive in his truck frequently

When cooking on the grill he always buys extra meat just for your dog

Phillip Graves

I like to think he has a soft spot for animals and agreed to going along with you when deciding what animal to adopt

What he didn't expect was to be pulling into a ranch and looking at horses

He expected to be looking at dogs or cats or a fish even

Now he's helping you muck out the stall for the beautiful pinto you bought

Helps brush her down and keep its mane and tail smooth to enter it in shows and competitions

Keegan

He knew you'd been wanting a pet for a while now because every time you visited someone who owned a pet you'd asked if you could play or pet them

You probably spent longer bonding with animals than with humans

Decided to surprise you with a talking parrot

Every now and then he'll teach it cute phrases like "I love you", the parrot will sometimes pick up some colorful language from Keegan

Hesh Walker

He caved in and originally thought of gifting you a pretty Siamese cat before thinking he'd like to play a little prank on you

As a joke, he gave you two rats, each with a pink bow on them

David would've started laughing if it weren't for you growing attached to them, eventually he did tell you he intended to buy you a cat

The rats were quite intelligent and learned tricks fast and frequently played games so both you and David decided to keep them and forget about the original plan of getting a cat

Logan Walker

He could never say no to you

However, you had owned a dog before, Logan wasn't fond of cats and you didn't want something like a lizard or a fish that would stay inside a tank all the time

The perfect opportunity came up when you had the chance to adopt a baby cow, a calf who had lost its mother

You both agreed, there was extra unused backyard space

The calf was named "Moonpie"

König

You really wanted a pet, but König couldn't understand why

"We already have a pet"

It was an iguana, which König already owned when you moved in with him

You weren't very fond of it because of an anecdote that occurred the first time you were over at König's place; you had seen a long tail in between the couch cushions and thinking it was a stuffed animal or a toy you pull at it only to see the iguana moving

It still freaks you out to this day when you remember how flaky and weird the scales felt

Horangi

He agreed and suggested he be the one to go pick out a pet from the shelter

You stood at the door when you heard his car ready to meet your new pet only to be met with a plastic container

Upon opening the box you're shocked to see he brought home a snake, he just snickers as he picks it up, holding it as the boa wraps around his arm biceps

"You wanted a pet, didn't you?"

Nikto

You had spent months trying to convince him to get a pet, to which he kept saying no to

"Come on Andre, a dog wouldn't be as bad as a kid"

He had no reaction other than just a grunt, but next time he came home from deployment he set a portable crate down

You rushed excitedly when you heard squeals thinking it was a puppy, after three weeks you notice the brownish fur begin to lighten and spots appearing

"Where did you say you got the dog from?''

"Did I ever say it was a dog?"

Post inspired by this cutie:

Everyone say "Thank you Corazòn"

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show-your-fangs · 2 years ago

Note

I could request the double life of the reader, one as an agent and the other as a camgirl. Hotchner is a follower but they won't realize it until they travel on a case to an area where it's hot and they see a familiar brand.

By the way, I love your writing. 💖😊

anon i love you. take my hand in marriage RIGHT NOW.

It's You | Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner

introducing--

The Secrets We Keep (a Bunny and Clyde story) - Part One

Pairing: Sugar Daddy!Aaron Hotchner x BAU/cam girl f!Reader

Words: 3k

CW: mutual masturbation, sex work (is real work), power imbalance/play.

Tags/warnings: master!hotch, reader works at the bau and is a secret cam girl, hotch is a customer, pet names (bunny, sweet girl), perv!hotch, mutual masturbation, hotch being a little mean.

a/n: yes, oh god yes will this become something I can already taste it. catch me writing another insanely long D/s series about these two because I AM IN LOVE.

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

The first time that he noticed a similarity he thought he’d officially lost his mind.

Maybe the sleep deprivation, insurmountable amounts of stress he was under, and the fact that he had yet to have his morning coffee were all working in tandem against him.

It had been a complete accident. You’d been walking towards your desk in the morning, in a foul mood and you didn’t care who saw it. You’d set your bag down on the wooden counter but accidentally miscalculated how close you were to it and slammed your foot into the metal leg that separated them.

A yelp escaped your lips, high pitched, painful, sexual. His ears had perked up immediately, his brows scrunching together as he tried to remember where he’d heard that sound before. Realization struck him like a truck running him against a brick wall.

No, there was no way, his brain was being absurd, he was being absurd.

The day wrapped him up in a tornado of meetings and he’d almost forgotten about the incident earlier in the day, but then he received a notification late at night, after he’d returned home from a long day at the office. She was online, his favorite, perfect girl.

Aaron had never been one for porn, never really saw the appeal of overly produced, almost veering on fake sexual content. He’d met his wife in high school, he was never in need of searching for something that he already had.

But after Haley passed away and he became increasingly frustrated with the idea of having to put himself out there and date someone else to get the intimacy that he desired, he’d bitten the bullet and signed up for one of the many sites that Morgan had not so subtly been recommending for the past few months.

To think that his colleague could tell he was so sexually frustrated to the point that he’d began dropping hints about it had made him more embarrassed than signing up for the site.

The first few times that he used the site were…interesting. Getting past that wall of righteousness he’d put up around himself was difficult. He wanted, no, needed release, craved it in a way he’d never felt before.

He’d go from stream to stream, curious, trying to keep an open mind. But nothing really spoke to him, nothing really made him excited to engage, to stay longer than a few minutes, to touch himself.

And then he’d found her, bouncingbunny1, or Bunny as she went by for the customers that paid enough to be in her inner circle.

She was beautiful in that girl next door who was secretly naughty way that he hadn’t realized he was so attracted to. Always clad in delicate pink lingerie, never showing her face, even when he’d finally gotten over his fear and paid for a private session.

It was easy to fantasize, easy to let himself go and allow the soft cadence of her voice, the filthy sounds of her moans as she touched herself for his pleasure and his pleasure only, making him come undone in minutes.

He’d learned something dangerous about himself then, a desperate need to dominate, to control, to have power over someone in such an intimate way. Watching this delicate woman come undone by his orders, his commands, his instructions on how he wanted her to pleasure herself was more satisfying than anything he’d experienced before.

Now, months later, he could confidently accept that this had been one of the best decisions he’d ever made. Sure, he spent as much money on her as he did on rent every month, but it was honestly worth it. He had an insurmountable amount of access, she’d told him as much on their nightly conversations.

It wasn’t just about release anymore. He found himself talking to her, texting and calling, whenever she was online and he needed her. There had been a few instances where they’d closed a particularly tough case and all he needed was to hear her voice, but she was unavailable.

But she made up for it with messages filled with those silly kissing face emojis, telling him that she’d make it up to him later that night. And he never questioned it, never even found it odd that sometimes those moments happened to coincide with them being stuck on the jet or pulling a late night of paperwork at the office.

He had no reason to think anything of it, no reason to ever even begin to think of the possibility that it was you…that it could ever be you on the other side of his screen. You, his subordinate, his teammate, his friend who he adored and cherished and thanked the universe every day for your patience, kindness, love.

Even with the slightest possibility, the smallest sliver that it could be you—

user1102: Bunny.

bouncingbunny1: hiiiiii Master 🤭🥰🩷💖😚

user1102: Can we play?

Bouncingbunny1: yes sir

He smirked to himself, immediately calling. He never showed his face or his body. The only indication that he was real was through what he allowed you to hear. That was another thing that he’d noticed about himself, how deep and sharp his voice could get when he allowed himself to be free.

You answered the call immediately. You knew he didn’t like to be kept waiting and you couldn’t contain your excitement every time he called you. He was the only reason you were still doing this, even after finishing college (debt free), after getting through the academy and getting the job you’d been desperately working towards all your adult life – he had come in and kept you wrapped up in his orbit.

You’d started working at the BAU almost a year ago. They were down an agent and you’d been brought in to train for the position. The transition had been stressful, something that you were accounting for but not to this degree.

You had taken a break from camming in preparation for the adjustment period, taking your time to see if you would even want to return to it or if it was a closed chapter in your book.

But you’d returned home one night after a particularly grueling case, with so much pent up energy, so much bratty energy that the only way that you knew how to get it out in a healthy way was to put on a show.

You’d spent the next few hours with your bluetooth vibrator inside you, a pretty baby blue lingerie set over it, cumming over and over and over and over again as the people watching paid to make the device go faster and faster and faster.

That’s when you first met him, user1102. After the first hour was up and you were practically hanging on to your couch for dear life, he’d told you he’d pay five hundred dollars if you took a break, if you drank a full glass of water for him on camera to show him you were taking care of yourself.

And so you did, everyone else in the chat respecting the decision, albeit annoying as it was, since they all understood that money spoke volumes and they were not in the market to try and outbid whoever he was.

You didn’t recognize him from your usual clients which meant that this was the first time he was seeing you, and what a night to start indeed. He kept coming back after that, every time that you were able to find the time or needed to find release, to clear your mind of the day’s events.

He was always a big tipper, an even bigger flirt, always made sure to send public and private messages while you played live, always said hello and goodbye.

You’d squealed loudly when he finally requested a private session and made sure you looked extra good for him. He was perfect, even if you had no idea what he looked like, and these sessions became more and more frequent to the point that you’d almost stopped performing for other people.

You were sitting in front of your couch on the cold wood floor, a fluffy towel under you. He could see a few toys off camera and a large water bottle that he’d gotten you next to them, clearly just in frame for him.

“Hi bunny,” he groaned, his hand already wrapped around his cock.

“Hi Master,” you whimpered, already feeling spacey and out of it. It was always like this with him, easy to slip, to submit, to simply allow your brain to think about following his instructions.

“Someone’s eager,” he mocked and you immediately knew what he was talking about. It was crazy to think that you were so attuned to him, to where his mind was. It filled you with warmth every time that you could anticipate his thoughts, his needs, his desires.

“Prepared,” you whined, offended. “I always make a mess when we play and I’m tired of having to mop my floor.”

He chuckled, hand tightening around himself. He never had to work to get hard when he spoke with you, the mere thought of getting to play, as you liked to call it, enough to get him going.

That’s when he noticed it, a small band aid on the side of your foot.

“What happened to your foot, sweet girl?” he asked, his heart beating uncomfortably fast, blood practically shooting up to his ears and his cock.

“Oh…” you started, a little afraid that he’d punish you for not being careful. “I bumped it against a chair today.”

He came harder than he’d ever had that night just by the mere thought that you were the one letting out those addicting noises, that you were the one coming undone because of him, that you were the one writhing, shaking, panting, so completely at his mercy that you’d quite literally do anything for him.

You were in god awful, swampy Florida. The summer sun was unforgiving, the cozy, long sleeve you had chosen for what you believed would be a long day at the office doing paperwork was definitely the worst clothing choice as the humidity practically clung to your body.

You wanted to scream, wanted to punch something, wanted to take it off and not worry about flaunting your practically naked breasts to everyone around you. Anything to get rid of the burning heat that trapped your body.

You were practically a walking puddle when you made it back to the station, practically bolting to the bathroom in a cloud of smoke. Morgan couldn’t help but chuckle, he’d been teasing you about it all afternoon, especially after he’d urged you to change and you had refused because you were sure you’d be staying inside with Reid in the comfort of the air conditioned building.

Aaron couldn’t help but notice your mood. You weren’t normally this grumpy. You were usually the one making sure he stopped frowning. He gave you a moment and then followed behind swiftly.

You stepped into the women’s bathroom and immediately pulled your shirt over your head, tossing it aggressively over the sink. You stood there, heaving, allowing the cold air to seep into your body, to have it calm you down, ground you.

Aaron was about to knock when he saw the door slightly ajar and he immediately stilled, his eyes landing on your topless body. It was too similar, you were too similar, his brain now desperately trying to find similarities between you and her.

You were wearing a cupless white lace bra, one that he could’ve sworn he’d bought you only a few days prior. You hadn’t worn it yet, at least not to his knowledge, which meant you must’ve just gotten it in the mail.

It was overwhelming to say the least. He couldn’t continue going on like this. He needed to know.

He pulled out his phone, discreetly lingering outside of the women’s bathroom, always glancing around to make sure no one could see him.

user1102: Bunny, I need you.

The second his thumb pressed send his gaze shot up to you once more, waiting to see your reaction. As much as his Bunny would sometimes tell him that she couldn’t play right that second, she’d always, without fail, answer his messages within seconds.

He could see your attention shift from the mirror in front of you to your phone for a second as you slid your new shirt over yourself. His gaze sharpened, his cock twitched in anticipation, his breathing hitched.

But instead you pressed one key and brought the device up to your ear, your soft, steady voice muffled by the distance between you. He sighed deeply, in defeat as he looked back down at his phone, his message unanswered.

“Are you okay?” he almost jerked back as he heard you address him, concern lacing your voice. You were right beside him then, those round, doe eyes of yours that he loved so much wide and worried.

He could simply nod, enough to satisfy you and yet not give you even an ounce of understanding into what was really going on.

You all made it to the hotel later that night. He had quickly checked you all in since you were all about to drop. It had been a very long day to say the least and all you really wanted was to take an ice cold shower and go to sleep.

“Alright,” he addressed the group. “Rossi, room 702, Reid and Morgan, room 705, JJ, room 806, Emily and–” his eyes met yours and he immediately lost his train of thought for a second before he handed the key cards to the raven haired woman beside you. “Room 807.”

He stepped back. “I’ll be down in room 604 if anyone needs anything. Back at the lobby at seven.”

With that you all shuffled towards the elevators, like a horde of zombies. You had been true to your word, practically cold plunging yourself in the shower and proceeding to put on some shorts and a baggy t-shirt to sleep in.

Emily took the shower after you were done, your plan being to throw yourself on the bed and pass out immediately. But as luck would have it, your stomach practically screamed at you to feed it.

You sighed deeply, crossing the room to see if room service was still open at the late hour only to realize it had just closed. You groaned in annoyance, the brat peeking through, your body starting to crave a different type of relief.

Luckily there was a vending machine down on the sixth floor, so that’s where you found yourself, irritatingly making the trek down. The elevator doors opened directly into the hall with the vending machine and you practically came face to face with an equally tired Aaron, clad in his own gray shirt and loose pajama pants.

You bit down on your lip, approaching him slowly. He saw you the second the elevator doors opened and it made him angry that he just knew it was you. There was something so specific about the air whenever you were around, it always felt lighter, smelled sweeter.

“Hungry?” he asked as you approached and you nodded.

“I’ll have whatever you’re having,” you replied and he leaned down to pick up the prepackaged sandwich he’d just gotten for himself.

Your hand wrapped itself around the almost phallic, plastic wrapped item, his gaze slowly falling down your body until it landed on your chest. To say he visibly tensed up was an understatement.

You frowned immediately, stepping forward, into his personal space, your own eyes searching for his but they were glued to your shirt. You looked down at yourself, concerned that maybe there was something on it that had offended him. It was rowdy, but nothing to write home about which only confused you further.

“My college friends used to be in a band,” you explained, trying to lighten the mood. “They made like three of these shirts,” you laughed, clearly remembering fond memories. “Anyway, it’s silly and stupid, I know, but I still have it.”

He knew, he knew all of that, because he’d once called her– you while you were still in your pajamas, wearing that very specific shirt. You’d told him that same story, with a few more details of course, but still.

There was no denying it now, no way to twist the truth, no way to unknow what he now knew for certain.

His own hand pulled on the sandwich and your frown only deepened, as if the gesture itself had cut you so deep, had broken your heart so painfully.

“It’s…uh– option three, sorry, I have to…” he was down the hall in record time, his heart pounding, his cock practically rock hard against his abdomen. He needed to calm down, needed to take a minute to compose himself, needed to get back to grab his phone so that he could—

user1102: Come to my room.

The message confused you even more than Aaron just had. You were in no mood to deal with anyone, even the man you had made you feel more alive than you had in years. That’s when you noticed you hadn’t replied to him earlier, but whatever guilt you were feeling quickly washed away as anger settled in.

Who the fuck did they both think they were?

bouncingbunny1: ???

user1102: 604

The color drained from your face in an instant. No, it couldn’t be. There was no way, your brain was being absurd, you were being absurd.

user1102: Now, bunny.

You gulped loudly, shaky legs somehow managing to lift carry down the hall. The bright light of the hallways almost sobering you up. Were you seriously about to do this?

At worst you walked over to his door, knocked and he stared at you confused and you’d just have to live with the embarrassment of coming up with a lie. At best…at best he opened the door and dragged you into his room, pressed his lips to yours, and finally gave you the satisfaction of fucking ruining you like you’d wanted your boss and user1102 to do for so long.

You didn’t even get to lift your hand to knock on the door before it swung open aggressively and he stepped into your personal space, his tall, broad frame towering over you.

“Oh, bunny,” he hummed. “Didn’t anyone tell you not to go looking for the big bad wolf?”

“No, Master.”

this was TOO SATISFYING TO WRITE I LOVE IT SO MUCH. it was crazy to go from soft boy mr. hotchner to just...insanity and power and control and i love how this turned out.

y'all better fucking FLOOD my inbox with asks for them.

tags: @xladyxdreamer, @ssamorganhotchner, @canuck-eh

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #show your fangs writes #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner x female reader #sugar daddy!hotch #bau!reader #cam girl reader #I will see you all in hell where we'll be deranged together #show your fangs hotch blurbs #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner smut #dom hotch #the secrets we keep #bunny and clyde

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