#why is this silence so charged? heavy? | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

butterfliesandwendigos · 25 days ago

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𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪. BEFORE — Josh Washington

SUMMARY — a rekindled romance with Josh Washington leads to a night of pleasure and requited feelings for one another.

W/C — 6k.

NOTES — written in 2nd person POV, includes smut, smut, SMUT, lowkey a bit of fluff, considering writing a part two involving josh’s psycho prank reveal.

PART ONE | PART TWO

The tension in the room escalates as a heavy silence settles over the group, and the cold air reflects the unease on everyone’s faces. The atmosphere grows thick with unspoken words, and the other friends exchange worried glances, unsure how to intervene in Emily and Jessica’s argument.

Standing in the centre of the room, Josh senses the confrontation spiralling out of control. He takes a deep breath, determination flickering in his eyes as he steps forward, his voice attempting to cut through the mounting anxiety.

“Mike, why don’t you check out the guest cabin? The one I told you about,” he suggests, trying to redirect the group’s attention away from the simmering conflict.

Looking at Jess with an eagerness that masks his concern, Mike jumps at the chance to shift gears. “Yeah, alright. Want to go do that?” he asks Jess, his tone light but tinged with hope.

Still bitter and glaring daggers at Emily, Jess responds with a sharp edge. “Any place without that whore,” she retorts, her voice dripping with disdain. Her eyes flicker to Emily, who stands rigid, hurt and anger swirling in her gaze.

Emily’s fists clench at her sides as she takes in Jess's words. “Wow, Jess. Classy,” she fires back, her voice strained as she struggles to maintain her composure.

Caught between the two, Josh tries to keep the mood light, though disappointment hangs heavy in his heart. “It’s right up the trail,” he chimes in, glancing nervously between them, desperate to diffuse the situation.

Mike, feeling the weight of Jess’s glare, takes her hand and pulls her gently away from the tension. “Let’s go,” he says, leading her toward the door, eager to escape the simmering conflict behind them.

As Jess and Mike step outside, the door clicks shut, leaving a heavy silence in the lodge. The warmth from the fireplace feels suddenly distant, and the atmosphere is charged with unresolved tension. Emily stands frozen for a moment, her heart racing with betrayal and anger, her body trembling as she processes the sting of jealousy.

Josh shakes his head slowly, disappointment etched as he watches Mike and Jess walk away. His eyes linger on Emily, concern flaring up as he witnesses the distress radiating from her. The remaining friends exchange uneasy looks, each uncertain how to navigate the sudden rift that has opened.

Matt, Emily’s boyfriend, stares at her with concern and confusion. He’s distressed by her jealousy, feeling her emotions pressing down on him. “Em, are you okay?” he finally asks, his voice hesitant, trying to bridge the gap between them.

Emily's expression hardens, turns on Matt, frustration spilling out in a flood. “I can’t believe this. I can’t believe you’ll let her treat me like that! And do you know where my pink bag from the rodeo is?” she demands, her voice rising with agitation.

Matt is caught off guard and hesitates before responding. “Uh, I don’t know… I thought you had it with you,” he replies, unsure how to react to her outburst.

Emily’s eyes flash with anger. “Well, I don’t! So we need to find it. Now!” she insists, her tone leaving little room for argument.

With a heavy sigh, Matt nods, resigned to her request. “Okay, let’s look for it,” he replies, attempting to keep his voice steady, even as uncertainty lingers in his gaze.

Across the room, Sam, sensing the tension, tries to control her situation. “I’m going to have a nice, warm bath,” she announces, her voice breaking through the thick silence. “Maybe some relaxation will help.” She gives the group a small smile but does little to ease the tension.

As the air in the lodge remains heavy with tension, Josh takes it upon himself to bring some warmth back into the space. He moves toward the fireplace, fumbling with kindling and logs, determined to ignite a fire that can literally and metaphorically chase away the chill. He strikes a match, watching it flicker momentarily before it catches, the flame dancing to life.

His eyes search yours, filled with a mix of hope and vulnerability. At that moment, the noise of the lodge fades into the background, and it feels like the two of you are the only ones left in the room, standing on the precipice of a more profound connection amidst the chaos of friendship and rivalry.

Meanwhile, Ashley and Chris sit together in the corner of the room, their eyes darting nervously around the space. The silence between them stretches, filled only by the crackling of the match against the wood.

Ashley fidgets with the sleeve of her sweater, her cheeks flushed slightly. “It’s pretty intense, right?” she replies, trying to keep her tone light despite the seriousness of the situation. “I never thought it would get that heated. We’re supposed to be here to have fun, not fight.”

“Yeah,” Chris agrees, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s like, one minute we’re all friends, and the next… everyone’s at each other’s throats.” He glances over at Josh, who is still wrestling with the logs in the fireplace, trying to coax a flame to grow. “You think he’s going to be okay? I mean, he’s trying so hard to keep things together.”

Ashley nods, her eyes following Josh’s movements. “I hope so. He’s a good guy, you know? He wants everyone to have a good time. It’s just… hard to watch everyone fight like this.”

Chris, sensing a moment of connection, leans in a little closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I appreciate how you always try to keep things positive. I wish I could be more like that sometimes.”

Ashley looks at him, her heart fluttering a little at the compliment. “Thanks, Chris. That means a lot,” she replies softly, a shy smile creeping onto her face.

Before they can delve deeper into their conversation, Sam returns down the stairs, a towel draped over her shoulder. She looks a bit flustered, running a hand through her damp hair. “Hey, guys,” she calls out, her voice bright but tinged with frustration. “I just checked the bath, and the gas is off, so the water’s cold. Great, right?”

Josh is still focused on getting the fire to catch and grimaces. “Seriously? That’s not what I needed to hear right now,” he mutters, finally coaxing a small flame into existence.

Sam rolls her eyes playfully, trying to lighten the mood. “Yeah, let’s just add it to the list of things going wrong tonight.”

Josh, however, takes the news in stride and turns toward you with a spark of determination in his eyes. “Y/N, how about we go to the basement and check the gas? It shouldn’t be too complicated, and I could use the extra hands.”

Ashley and Chris exchange glances, their conversation momentarily forgotten. “Do you think you can fix it?” Chris asks, his brow furrowed in concern.

Josh nods confidently, but there’s a hint of uncertainty beneath the bravado. “Yeah, it’s probably just a quick adjustment.”

Sam shrugs, a smile returning to her face. “I’ll keep an eye on the fire for you guys. Just don’t blow anything up, okay?”

“Promise,” Josh replies, flashing a grin as he heads toward the basement door, glancing back at you. “You coming, Y/N?”

Josh’s hopeful gaze offers a chance for distraction, perhaps even a moment to connect without the chaos of the others hanging overhead.

“Yeah, I’m in,” you respond, pushing off from your seat. You can’t help but feel a rush of adrenaline at the idea of stepping away from the drama and into the unknown of the basement with Josh.

He smiles, a mixture of relief and excitement crossing his features. “Awesome. Let’s go.”

Together, you head toward the basement door, the creaky wood floorboards echoing softly behind you. As Josh opens the door, a rush of cool air greets you, starkly contrasting the lodge's warmth. The darkness beyond is thick, with only a few dim lights flickering in the distance.

“Do you have a flashlight?” you ask, glancing back at him.

“Yeah, I got one,” he replies, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small, rugged flashlight. He flicks it on, illuminating a narrow staircase that leads down into the gloom.

You descend the stairs together, the light casting long shadows against the stone walls. The air grows more relaxed, a bit musty, filled with the scent of old wood and dust. As you reach the bottom, the beam reveals an assortment of old furniture covered in sheets, boxes piled high, and the occasional rustle of a rat scurrying away.

“Welcome to the dungeon,” Josh jokes, trying to keep the atmosphere light as he sweeps the flashlight across the room. “Quite the sight, huh?”

You chuckle, appreciating his attempt at humour. “At least it’s not filled with creepy dolls or something.”

Josh nods, stepping further inside. “Let’s see if we can figure out what’s going on with the gas.” He moves to a panel on the wall, inspecting it closely. “It shouldn’t be too complicated. Just a valve adjustment, I think.”

You step closer, watching him with a mix of admiration and concern. He looks determined, his brow slightly furrowed in concentration as he kneels to get a better look at the mechanism. The moment feels profound and fragile as you and Josh exchange lingering glances. But the sudden crash from the living room jolts you back into the present. You shake your head, trying to clear your thoughts and take a deep breath.

“I think it came from upstairs,” you reply, your pulse quickening as your heart races. “Should we check it out?”

Josh hesitates, glancing toward the stairs. “Maybe we should finish with the gas first? If it’s nothing, we don’t want to leave it unattended.”

You nod, trying to push aside the unease creeping into your thoughts. “Right, let’s focus on this first.”

With renewed determination, you both turn your attention back to the valve. After a few moments of adjustments and checking gauges, Josh finally gives a satisfied nod. “I think that should do it. Let’s head back upstairs and let them know.”

As you return to the stairs, the unsettling feeling in your gut lingers, amplifying the sense that something isn’t right. The sounds of the lodge—laughter, tension, muffled voices—float down to you, becoming a mix of reassurance and dread.

Just as you reach the top of the stairs, another loud noise reverberates through the lodge, a sharp sound like something heavy being knocked over. You exchange worried glances with Josh, both of you feeling the shift in the atmosphere.

“What was that?” you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I don’t know,” Josh replies, his tone serious as he tightens his grip on the flashlight. “But we need to find out.”

With that, you both step back into the main room, the previous tensions overshadowed by an unfamiliar fear. The crackling of the fire is drowned out by hurried footsteps and raised voices, the friends agitated by whatever’s happening.

“Did you hear that?” Josh asks, his eyes darting around the room.

You nod, feeling the weight of the unknown pressing down on you. “We need to stick together,” you suggest a quiet resolve forming between you.

“Stay behind me,” he replies, stepping closer as you prepare to confront whatever lurks in the shadows. The night is far from over, and the real challenge has only begun.

Just as you reach the bottom of the stairs, a sudden flash of colour catches your eye. Before you can react, Chris bursts into the hallway, wearing a ridiculous, oversized bathrobe with a floppy hat and fuzzy slippers. He strikes a dramatic pose, grinning widely.

“Behold! The Phantom of the Lodge!” he exclaims, his voice booming as he swings his arms for effect.

You jump back, letting out a surprised yelp. Instinctively, you grab Josh’s arm, clinging to him tightly as your heart races. “Oh my God, Chris! You scared me!”

Josh chuckles, his initial shock melting into laughter as he steadies you. “Seriously, man? This is the best you could come up with?”

Chris leans into his performance, spinning around in the robe and throwing his hands up. “What? You don’t like my haunting style? I thought I’d bring some fun to this dreary evening!”

You can’t help but laugh, the night's tension momentarily dissipating as you release Josh’s arm, albeit reluctantly. “I mean, if the ghost you’re trying to scare is one of my nightmares, then sure, it’s working!”

Josh shakes his head, still smiling. “You need to get better at hiding, Chris. That was way too easy.”

Chris pretends to be offended, placing a hand over his heart. “Easy? I’m a master of scare tactics! Just look at my costume!” He twirls again, the robe billowing dramatically around him. “If I were a real ghost, I’d have you all quaking in your boots!”

Josh rolls his eyes but can’t help but smile at Chris’s antics. “You might want to reconsider your career choices, buddy. You’re more likely to make us laugh than scream.”

The lighthearted banter creates a much-needed distraction, and the tension from earlier seems to fade a bit. You take a deep breath, feeling more at ease, though you still chuckle as Chris prays around in his ridiculous outfit.

“Okay, okay, you’ve had your fun,” you say, finally regaining your composure. “But seriously, let’s focus. We must check on the others and see what’s happening.”

Chris drops the act, his playful demeanour shifting to concern. “Right, right. I just thought a little laughter would lighten the mood. Things have been pretty intense tonight.”

“Yeah, they have,” Josh agrees, his expression turning serious again. “But let’s get back out there and have some fun.”

As you enter the main room, the lingering echoes of laughter from Chris’s antics fade into the background, replaced by the familiar tension that still lingers among the group. You glance at Josh, feeling the weight of your unresolved feelings.

“Hey, Josh,” you say, lowering your voice to ensure Chris doesn’t overhear. “Can we talk for a second? Like… about last year?”

Josh’s expression shifts, a mix of curiosity and concern. “Sure. What do you want to talk about?”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “I just… I feel like we’ve both been avoiding it. Everything that happened before...”

His gaze softens, the vulnerability in his eyes mirroring your own. “Before my sisters disappeared.”

Just then, Chris, standing a few feet away, suddenly perks up. He catches Josh’s eye and raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk spreading across his face. “Uh, I’ll be waiting over there,” he says, gesturing to a corner of the room. “You two take your time.”

You can’t help but smile at Chris’s teasing, but Josh rolls his eyes, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. “Thanks, Chris. We’ll try to keep it brief,” he replies, trying to suppress a grin.

As Chris saunters away, you turn back to Josh, feeling a rush of nervous energy. “So, where do we even start?” you ask, glancing around to ensure no one else is listening.

“I guess we start with the fact that I missed you,” he admits, his voice low and sincere. “When everything happened, my only focus was on finding my sisters. But I’ve thought about you a lot and regret not saying anything sooner.”

You feel your heart flutter at his words. “I missed you too. I didn’t want to complicate things when you already dealt with so much.”

“I know,” he replies, his expression pained. “And I appreciate you allowing me time to heal with my parents. Last year was such a mess. I’m just glad you had nothing to do with Hannah’s prank,” Josh admits, stepping towards you.

“Never, I could never have anything to do with that,” You say softly, giving him a warm smile.

He nods, his gaze unwavering. “I know. It would’ve hurt me a lot if you did.”

After a few moments, you poke some fun at the tension lingering from the past. “You know,” you say playfully, “I couldn’t have possibly been part of Hannah’s prank. Thanks to you last year, I was too busy being in a compromising position.”

Josh raises an eyebrow, a grin spreading across his face. “Oh really? Care to elaborate on that?”

You can feel the moment's weight hanging in the air, the tension from earlier dissipating as you lock eyes with Josh. The connection between you feels electric, and for a fleeting moment, the chaos of the lodge fades into the background.

You raise an eyebrow, a smile creeping onto your lips. “Are you trying to charm me, Josh?”

“Maybe,” he replies, leaning slightly closer, his tone dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I’ve been known to have that effect on people. And honestly, what sane woman could resist it?”

Josh glances back to ensure no one is watching before he reaches out, gently brushing your arm with his hand. “Let’s go upstairs,” he says, his voice low and inviting.

As you both make your way toward the staircase, a voice interrupts your moment. Chris and Ashley round the corner, eyebrows raised in unison.

“Hey! Where are you two sneaking off to?” Chris calls out, a teasing grin spreading across his face.

You exchange a glance with Josh; both are caught off guard. “Uh, just... checking out the view from upstairs!” you manage to say, attempting to sound casual.

“Yeah, you know,” Josh adds quickly, “the top floor has the best spot for stargazing. I just wanted to make sure we don’t miss it.

Ashley leans in, her expression sceptical. “Right. Because you two need alone time for stargazing.” She smirks, clearly not buying it.

Josh nods, his grin still plastered on his face. “Yeah, we just want to hang out for a bit. You know how it is—sometimes you need a break from the chaos.”

Chris and Ashley exchange a knowing look, and you can’t help but feel your cheeks heat up under their scrutiny. “All right, all right,” Chris finally concedes, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” you reply, rolling your eyes, a grin breaking through.

With one last playful eye-roll from Ashley and an exaggerated sigh from Chris, they leave you and Josh standing at the base of the stairs.

You and Josh make your way down the dimly lit hallway, the faint sound of the wind howling outside, barely breaking the heavy silence. The air feels cold against your skin, sending a shiver down your spine. You instinctively lean closer to him, and he responds by wrapping his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in a little tighter to keep you warm.

“Is it just me, or does it feel like this place gets colder the further we walk?” you joke, trying to lighten the mood despite the chill.

Josh chuckles softly, glancing down at you. “Yeah but don’t worry, I’ve got you.” He squeezes you gently, his warmth radiating through his skin, making you feel more at ease.

As you approach his room, the door looks more inviting against the shadows filling the hallway. Josh stops just outside, looking down at you with a hint of nervousness in his eyes. He turns the handle and opens the door, revealing a cozy space with warm lighting, the comforting scent of wood, and something faintly sweet. As he steps inside, you follow him, and he quickly shuts the door behind you, locking it with a soft click.

Once inside, the atmosphere shifts. The hallway's darkness is replaced by the warm glow of a bedside lamp, illuminating the room and casting soft shadows on the walls. It feels intimate and safe here.

Josh’s gaze drops to your lips briefly, and everything shifts in that instant. The air between you crackles with electricity, and before you can process it, he closes the distance, cupping your face gently with his hands.

Time seems to slow as he leans in, his breath warm against your skin. You can feel the butterflies in your stomach flutter wildly as your heart races. And then, his lips find yours, soft and tentative at first, as if testing the waters.

You respond instinctively, leaning into him, your hands finding their way to his hair, pulling him closer. The kiss deepens, becoming more passionate as the tension and unspoken feelings from before surging to the surface. It feels natural as if this moment has been building for far longer than the few minutes you’ve been alone. The warmth of his body envelops you, and you lose yourself in the sensation, the world outside fading entirely from your mind.

When you finally pull away, breathless, you look into Josh’s eyes, searching for the same emotions you feel swirling inside you. His cheeks are flushed, and his gaze’s a look of wonder.

Your warmth intensifies as your lips meet again, and you can feel the heat radiating from his body. The kiss deepens, becoming more urgent, a blend of pent-up emotions and undeniable attraction. Josh’s hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until there’s barely any space left between you. The world outside the door fades entirely, leaving only the sound of your heart beating in sync.

You feel excitement as he deepens the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a newfound hunger. His hands explore your back, fingers brushing against the fabric of your sweater, sending shivers down your spine. You respond by wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in closer, the kiss growing more heated with each passing second.

"God, I've wanted this for so long," Josh murmurs against your lips, his breath warm and heavy, making your heart race even faster.

"Me too," you reply, your voice barely above a whisper, the thrill of his admission sending a wave of excitement through you. As if sensing your need for more, he deepens the kiss, and you melt into him.

You feel his hands explore your sides, fingers brushing against your skin, igniting every nerve ending. The sensations swirl around you, and you lose yourself in the sweetness of his kiss, his intoxicating taste. Josh pulls you closer, the pressure of his body against yours, heightening the tension. You can feel the heat radiating off him, pulling you in like a magnet. The kiss becomes more frantic and desperate, as if you're afraid of what might happen if you stop.

When you break apart momentarily, Josh’s eyes dark with desire. "I can't believe it took us this long to do this again," he says, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch sends shivers through you, and you lean into him, craving more.

Without breaking eye contact, he leans in again, capturing your lips in a soft and demanding kiss. You feel the fire between you intensify, and you sigh softly as you return the kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He tilts his head, deepening the kiss, and you can feel his warmth against you, making it hard to think. The world outside ceases to exist; the two of you are wrapped up in this moment.

"Y/N," he murmurs, pulling back slightly to look into your eyes, desires flickering in his gaze. He gestures towards your top, tugging at the bottom of it. “Can I?"

Your heart races at the question, but the answer feels instinctual. "Yes," you reply, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions.

With a spark of determination, Josh slides your t-shirt over your head. His hands slide down your back, gripping your hips as he pulls you closer, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He pulls you down with him, guiding you onto his lap.

As you settle onto his lap, the heat between you grows palpable. Josh's hands remain firm on your hips, grounding you in the moment—his gaze flickers between your eyes and lips, filled with hunger and tenderness.

With a swift movement, he pulls his shirt over his head, revealing toned muscles that glisten softly in the dim light. The sight sends a rush of excitement through you, and your breath catches in your throat.

He leans closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, "I want to see you." The request ignites a thrill of anticipation within you.

Josh's fingers trace the delicate curve of your spine as he gently removes your bra, letting it fall to the floor unnoticed. His gaze is intense, almost predatory, as he takes in the sight of you. The room is quiet except for your joint breaths, each heavier than the last.

"You are so beautiful," he whispers, his voice a low, husky rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

He doesn't wait for a response. Instead, his hands slide around to cup your breasts, thumbs flicking over your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You gasp, arching into his touch, your head tilting back instinctively.

"So responsive," he murmurs, his lips brushing against your jawline as he moves closer to your ear. "I love how you react to my touch."

His words tingle your skin, and you can feel the heat pooling between your legs. You want more of his hands, mouth, and more of him. You nod, unable to form words through the haze of desire clouding your mind.

With a wicked grin, Josh shifts his grip, one hand still playing with your nipple while the other slides down to your waistband. He tugs at your leggings, pulling it down your hips until it crumples at your thighs. Your panties are now exposed, and he wastes no time reaching under them, his fingers brushing against the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs.

"Spread your legs for me," he commands softly, his voice firm but not unkind.

You obey, parting your legs slightly, allowing him better access. His fingers continue their journey upward, dipping just inside the edge of your panties before finding their target. You feel the pad of his index finger glide over your clit, a slow, teasing stroke that makes you bite your lip to stifle a moan.

"That’s it," he encourages, adding another finger to circle your clit faster. "Let me hear you."

The combination of his dirty talk and touch pushes you closer to the edge. You try to maintain some semblance of control, but his fingers on your clit have reduced you to a quivering mess. Your breath comes in short gasps, and you can feel the tension building rapidly inside you.

“Josh…” you manage to whisper, your voice cracking as waves of pleasure begin to crest.

He responds by pressing harder, his thumb circling your nipple while his fingers work magic between your legs. The sensations are too intense, and you know you won't last much longer. Your body stiffens, muscles tightening as you feel the familiar rush of an impending orgasm.

"Cum for me," he orders, his voice laced with authority. "Show me how much you like my fingers."

Those words tip you over the edge. A cry escapes your lips as wave after wave of ecstasy crashes over you, your body trembling with the force of your release. Josh doesn't let up, continuing to stroke you through the aftershocks, ensuring every ounce of pleasure is wrung from your body.

When the tremors finally subside, you collapse against him, weak and breathless. Josh pulls his fingers away, bringing them to his mouth to lick them clean, his eyes never leaving yours. The look in his eyes tells you this is far from over.

"Now," he says, his voice rough with unspent desire, "it's my turn."

He stands up, lifting you effortlessly and laying you back onto the bed. You watch as he quickly sheds the rest of his clothes, revealing his hard, eager cock. He positions himself between your legs, his hands resting on either side of your head as he hovers above you, maintaining that intense eye contact.

"Tell me what you want," he demands, his tone brooking no refusal.

You bite your lip, considering your answer. The power dynamic has shifted, and you feel thrilled at being under his command. But you also know what you want—what you need.

"I want you inside me," you confess, your voice soft but clear. "Please, Josh."

A smile curves his lips, triumphant and possessive. "Good girl," he murmurs, lowering himself until his cock brushes against your entrance. "This might hurt a little at first. I want you to take every inch."

You nod, understanding the challenge. He slowly pushes forward, stretching you, filling you. The initial sting gives way to a deep, throbbing pleasure as he sinks deeper, inch by agonisingly delicious inch. You clutch at the sheets, trying to anchor yourself as he continues his relentless advance.

"All of it," he growls, his muscles straining as he reaches the hilt. "Take all of me."

You whimper, overwhelmed by the fullness but also by the primal rush of having him entirely inside you. He pauses, giving you a moment to adjust, his hands moving to cradle your face as he gazes down at you.

"Are you ready?" he asks, though it sounds more like a statement.

Before you can answer, he pulls out slightly and then thrusts back in, which is more challenging this time. The impact makes your breath hitch, and you can't help but cry out at its intensity. He repeats the motion, each thrust more vigorous than the last, pushing you higher and higher.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he mutters, his voice strained. "So tight."

Your nails dig into his shoulders as you meet his thrusts, your hips rising to greet him. The rhythm builds, becoming more frantic, more desperate. The world narrows down to just the two of you, locked in this primal dance of lust and need.

Suddenly, he changes pace, slowing down just enough to tilt his hips differently. The angle hits a spot deep inside you that makes your vision blur with pleasure. You can feel your second climax approaching, and you cling to him for dear life.

"Josh... I'm close," you gasp, your voice barely audible.

He smiles darkly, taking that as his cue. "Then cum all over me," he says, speeding up again. "Let go."

His words trigger something within you, and you feel the dam break as another powerful orgasm rips through you. Your body convulses beneath him, and you moan his name as you ride out the waves of pleasure.

Josh doesn’t stop his thrusts, making them harder and rougher with each stroke. You begin to feel the slick between your legs turn into a gush, tiny droplets of your heat squirting on his pelvis. He slides out and pushes back in, going deeper each time. You feel his hands on your hips as he thrusts into you harder and harder, your slick still flying onto his abdomen. He looks into your eyes with a wicked smirk, his cock never slowing.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god,” you mumble, barely coherent.

You feel like you’re on fire, your muscles are so tense they feel like they’re about to snap, your body is clenching down on him so hard it hurts, and you feel yourself pouring like a waterfall.

Josh suddenly stops and flips you on your side, his body following suit as he lays behind you. You feel his arms wrap around your waist, his chin nuzzling into the crook of your neck.

“You know I’m not kidding when I say you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he whispers into your neck.

You feel him stiffen behind you and realise he’s still inside you. You moan quietly, and he slowly starts to move again. His hands grip your hips, and he picks up the pace, fucking you harder this time. You push back into him, your body desperate for his cock.

“I knew…” he grunts, his movements getting faster and faster. “I knew it the first night we met.”

You gasp at his words and start to feel another orgasm build. His cock hits a different spot inside you this time, and you feel it fill you. You begin to shake and moan as your muscles clench down on him. He lets out a loud groan, and his movements become more erratic.

“I’m gonna cum,” he moans. You feel him pick up the pace and drive himself into you repeatedly. His cock swells inside you, and you feel his hot release cover your walls. His cum floods your pussy as he fucks you through his orgasm. He collapses behind you and pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you and look over your shoulder at him. He’s watching your pussy with a look of satisfaction on his face.

Josh wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer into his embrace. “I shouldn’t have left you for so long. I’ve been so caught up with Hannah and Beth disappearing… but seeing you tonight reminded me of everything I’ve always felt for you.”

You stay silent, waiting to hear his following words. A short while later, you feel him getting up. You roll over onto your back and watch as he walks away, naked and utterly comfortable in his own body. He disappears out the door and returns a minute later, holding a box of tissues and a damp washcloth.

He climbs into bed, pressing the washcloth to your pussy. “I want to take care of you. I want to make sure you feel good.”

“I want to take care of you too, Josh,” You whisper, voice barely above a whisper. You’re exhausted but relaxed beyond any relaxation you’ve ever experienced.

“I love that you’re all fucked out for me,” he says. You smile at him and watch as he tosses the washcloth away and opens the box of tissues.

He pulls out a few and gently wipes his cock clean. He looks up at you as he does it, watching your reaction to him cleaning himself. You feel your body start to get warm, and your nipples perk up at the sight. He smiles as he realises what’s happening.

“I’m tempted to go for round 2, but I think it would be kind of rude for the house host to disappear for long periods… even if it’s to spend time with a super gorgeous woman,” Josh says, throwing the used tissues onto the floor and crawling back into bed with you.

“Let’s lay here for a little while,” You tell him, grabbing his hand and pulling him closer to you. He pulls the blankets over both of your naked bodies and comfortably wraps his arms around your body.

“We can lay here, but not for too long; the others will come busting in here and find us naked,” Josh laughs, playing with the hair strands dangling over your chest.

“Fine,” You yawn, feeling yourself slip into a deep slumber, “We’ll only stay for… a little… while.”

Yawn after yawn, your physical tiredness overtook your awakened state. Slowly, your eyes closed, and your muscles relaxed into the comfort of Josh’s mattress.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Josh whispers into your ear, unaware of your sleeping state. He hears a slight, feminine-sounding snore and peers over your body, observing your half-open mouth and closed eyes.

Kissing you on the forehead, Josh slowly gets out of bed and gets dressed. He has big plans for tonight, sadistic, messed-up plans… and he wanted you to have no part in it.

#until dawn #until dawn fanfiction #josh until dawn #josh washington x reader #josh washington #until dawn x reader #josh washington x you #until dawn josh

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pedroscowgirl · 1 month ago

Text

Tinted desires

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

warnings: smut!, minors dni!

p in v (wrap it up), creampie, fingering, powerdynamics (boss-employee), secret relationship, dirty language and lmk if i forgot something

Summary: After catching the unsub, you and Hotch linger in the SUV, unable to wait until you get home. The tension between you is undeniable, and seeing him look so irresistible in his FBI gear pushes you over the edge.

masterlist

The night had settled in, casting a calm darkness over the nearly empty street. The black SUV idled in its space, the faint hum of the engine the only sound as you sat beside Hotchner. The mission was over, the unsub caught and the team safe, but the tension still hummed between you and Hotch, not the adrenaline-fueled kind from the chase, but the kind that had been growing quietly between you two for months now.

You shifted in your seat, glancing over at him. His hands were still wrapped around the steering wheel, knuckles white from the pressure, and his gaze was fixed out the front windshield. There was always this quiet storm in him after a case. The weight of leadership bore down on him, and the lines on his face deepened, his thoughts somewhere far away.

But tonight, the air between you felt different, thicker. The silence, which was usually companionable, now felt charged. You swallowed, your heart thudding in your chest, knowing exactly why.

He was always so good at keeping the mask on, at hiding what he truly felt behind those dark, unreadable eyes. But you had learned to see through it, to catch the brief flickers of vulnerability he allowed himself only around you. There were fleeting moments when he would let his guard down, glances that lasted too long, touches that lingered too intimately. You had become experts at hiding your relationship from the team, from the world. But sometimes, in the quiet, the secrecy grew too heavy to bear.

You shifted slightly in the passenger seat, leaning toward him. You couldn’t help it, you were drawn to him. The way his hand rested on the center console, so close to yours but never quite touching, was almost unbearable

“Aaron,” you murmured softly, your voice barely above a whisper, breaking the silence between you.

He turned to you, his dark eyes locking with yours,. “We can’t,” he said, his voice low, gravelly, but his eyes betrayed him. There was heat there, a hunger he was trying so hard to suppress, but you could see it in the way his gaze lingered on your lips.

You glanced out the window, noticing the darkness and the heavily tinted glass. No one could see in. You turned back to him, your breath catching in your throat as you felt the weight of the moment, the unspoken desire hanging in the air between you.

“No one will see us,” you whispered, your hand brushing lightly against his on the console.

His eyes darkened, his breath hitching slightly as your fingers curled around his hand. His resolve was cracking, you could feel it, and it only fueled your desire. You could feel the heat of his body, the tension in the way he was holding himself, so tightly wound, like he was trying to stop himself from losing control.

His hand hesitated for a moment, then slowly moved, turning over to grasp yours. The contact was electric, sending a jolt of heat through you. His touch was firm, but tentative, as if he were still fighting with himself.

“We shouldn’t,” he repeated, but his voice was shakier now, his control slipping. His thumb brushed across your knuckles, the soft motion at odds with the tension in his body.

You shifted closer, your breath catching as his fingers traced along the edge of your thigh, so close to where you wanted him. The air felt too thick to breathe, your skin too sensitive, the anticipation building with every second.

“Aaron, please,” you whispered, your voice breathless, need edging into your words.

You saw it then, the moment he broke. His hand slid higher, his fingers brushing the inside of your thigh now, the heat of his touch almost unbearable. His eyes stayed on yours, dark and intense, as he moved his hand closer, his fingers grazing the edge of your underwear through your pants. You let out a soft gasp, your hips shifting toward him instinctively.

His jaw clenched, and his hand paused, as if he were giving himself one last moment to stop, to pull away. But when your hand moved to his, guiding him, his resolve shattered completely.

His fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, sliding over the soft fabric of your underwear, and you could feel him hesitate for just a second. His breath was shallow, his eyes locked on yours, watching for any sign of hesitation. But there was none.

“Aaron…” you breathed out, barely able to keep your voice steady.

His hand moved lower, pressing lightly between your legs, feeling the heat and wetness that had already begun pooling there. He let out a low, guttural sound, his breathing growing ragged as he realized how much you wanted this, how much you needed him.

“You’re so wet,” he murmured, his voice low and strained, as if the words themselves were almost too much for him to say.

You whimpered softly, your hips pressing into his hand as he applied more pressure, his fingers exploring the slick heat between your thighs. His touch was slow, deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every second of this moment, despite how much he was clearly struggling to maintain control.

His fingers slid beneath the fabric of your underwear, finally touching you where you ached for him. You gasped at the contact, your body trembling under his touch as his fingers slowly slid through your wetness, exploring every inch of you.

“Aaron, please…” you whimpered again, your hands gripping the edge of the seat as he continued to tease you, his fingers moving with excruciating slowness.

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your neck, his fingers sliding deeper now, fingering you with deliberate precision. You could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, trying to maintain control even as his own arousal grew. You could see it too, the hardness of him pressing against his pants, and it only made you want him more.

His thumb found your clit, pressing against it in slow, firm circles that had you gasping and squirming beneath his touch. Your body was on fire, every nerve ending alight with pleasure as he expertly worked you over, his fingers sliding in and out of you, his thumb never leaving that sensitive spot.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, your body trembling with the need for release, but still, he took his time, drawing it out, making you beg for it.

“You feel so good,” he whispered, his voice rough with desire, his lips brushing against your ear as he spoke. “But we have to be quiet. Can you do that?”

You nodded frantically, biting your lip to keep from crying out as his fingers pressed deeper, harder, the pleasure building to a breaking point.

And then, with one final stroke, your body clenched around his fingers, the wave of release crashing over you. You bit down on your lip, your breath hitching as you came undone beneath his hand, your body trembling in the aftermath.

He didn’t stop, his fingers still moving gently inside you, drawing out every last bit of pleasure until you were left trembling, breathless, your body slumping back against the seat.

He finally withdrew his hand, his fingers glistening with your arousal as he pulled back slightly, his breathing just as unsteady as yours.

The tension between you and Aaron was now a living, breathing thing in the confined space of the SUV. After he pulled his hand away from your throbbing core, the heat between you still burned, almost unbearable in its intensity. His eyes stayed locked on yours, dark and clouded with desire, and you could see he was still trying to hold onto the last remnants of his control.

But you were done with waiting.

“You’re such a naughty girl,” Aaron whispered, his voice low, gravelly, and full of the heat that had been simmering beneath the surface. His hand rested on your thigh, fingers brushing over your skin like a promise, as his dark eyes flickered with that familiar intensity.

You smirked at him, leaning in closer, your lips just a breath away from his. “I can be even naughtier,” you teased, your voice dripping with challenge.

“Oh yes?” His mouth curled into a small, knowing smirk, the kind that made your pulse race even faster.

Without breaking eye contact, you shifted in your seat, a slow, deliberate movement, and climbed over the console. You straddled his lap, your legs wrapping around his, and the feel of his hard body beneath yours sent a shiver through you. His hands immediately gripped your waist, his fingers digging into your skin, as if he were still trying to maintain some semblance of control. But the bulge pressing against your core told a different story.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asked, his voice a low growl as you leaned in, your lips grazing his ear.

“Making you feel so good,” you whispered, your breath hot against his skin. You felt him tense beneath you, his hands tightening their grip on your waist as a low groan escaped his lips. The sound sent a thrill through you, knowing you had him exactly where you wanted him.

With your fingers deftly working, you began unbuckling his belt, your movements slow and deliberate, teasing him, making sure he felt every second of it. His breathing grew heavier, his eyes never leaving yours, watching as you took control.

His hands slid down to your hips, and with a firm press, he pushed the seat back, giving you more room. His hands remained on your waist, gripping you tightly as if he needed to anchor himself to something. His eyes darkened as you moved against him, the friction sending sparks through your body.

You had already shed your pants in the heat of the moment, and now, with a single motion, you pulled his belt free, tossing it aside. His hips shifted beneath you as you reached for the zipper of his pants, your fingers brushing against the hard length of him through the fabric. His breath hitched at the contact, a low groan escaping his throat.

He was still wearing his FBI vest, the dark material straining against his broad chest, and you couldn’t help but let your eyes linger on it. Something about seeing him like this, so in control yet completely unraveling under your touch, made your desire for him burn even hotter.

“Do you want me to take it off?” he asked, his voice a little rougher now, his hands sliding up your sides, brushing over the hem of your shirt.

You shook your head slowly, your lips curling into a smile as you met his gaze. “No. It does something to me.”

His laughter was low, a deep rumble in his chest that you felt beneath your palms. “You like this, huh?” he teased, his smirk widening as his hands found your hips again, guiding you over him.

“You have no idea,” you breathed, your body moving against him, feeling the heat and hardness of him beneath you, barely contained by the fabric separating you.

His control was slipping, you could feel it in the way his hands roamed your body, the way his breathing grew more ragged. He leaned forward, his lips brushing against your neck, and his voice, low and thick with desire, made you shiver. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”

“I like danger,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you moved your hips against him, grinding against the hard length of him through his pants.

His hands tightened on your waist, pulling you harder against him, and his head fell back against the seat as he let out another low groan, the sound sending a rush of heat straight through you.

“You’re going to be the death of me,” he muttered, his voice rough as his hands slid down. His touch sent a jolt through you, your body trembling as his fingers brushed over your slick heat again.

“Maybe,” you teased, your hands working on unbuttoning his pants now, sliding the zipper down slowly. “But what a way to go.”

Aaron groaned again, his hands gripping your hips tighter as you finally freed him from his pants, your hand wrapping around the hard length of him. His eyes fluttered closed, and for a moment, all you could hear was the sound of your breathing, heavy and uneven, the heat between you almost unbearable.

“Are you ready for this?” you whispered, leaning down to kiss the corner of his mouth, teasing him with the barest touch of your lips.

His eyes opened, dark and full of need as they locked on yours. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “Always.”

And with that, you lowered yourself onto him, the feeling of him stretching you filling every inch of you, sending a wave of pleasure crashing through your body. His grip on your hips was firm, guiding you as you moved, his breath ragged and hot against your neck.

The SUV felt impossibly small as you moved together, the heat and intensity of the moment swallowing everything else around you. There was only him, his hands on your body, his breath in your ear, and the sound of his groans as you took him deeper, faster, until neither of you could hold back any longer.

“Aaron,” you gasped, your body trembling with the intensity of it all, the pleasure overwhelming as you rode him, feeling the tension building between you, the coil tightening with every movement.

He gripped you harder, pulling you down onto him, his own breath hitching as he buried his face in your neck. “God, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice strained with the effort of holding himself together.

Aaron's voice was rough and full of raw desire as he looked at you, his grip tightening on your hips. “Fuck, you’re so filthy,” he growled, his tone low and commanding. “Fucking your boss in an FBI car. I want to hear you beg me to come inside you, beg for it baby.”

The filthy edge to his words sent a shiver down your spine, making you groan in response. Your hands gripped his shoulders as the heat of the moment intensified, every nerve in your body on fire. “God, I do love that,” you gasped breathlessly, your voice shaking with need. “Please, Aaron, please come inside me. I need it, I need you…”

Your desperate plea made him groan, and the sound of your voice begging for him only drove him closer to the edge.

And then, with one final movement, the tension snapped, your body exploding with pleasure as you came, trembling and gasping against him. His hands gripped your hips tightly, pulling you harder against him as he followed, his own release crashing over him in a wave that left both of you breathless.

For a long moment, neither of you moved, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath of pleasure. His hands stayed on your waist, his breath hot and ragged against your skin, and you couldn’t help but smile as you felt the last remnants of tension slowly fade away.

Finally, you pulled back slightly, your forehead resting against his as you both tried to catch your breath. Aaron’s hands slid up your back, his touch gentle now, a stark contrast to the intensity of just moments ago.

“You’re something else,” he whispered, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, lingering kiss.

You grinned, still breathless, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked into his dark, satisfied eyes. “And you love it.”

He chuckled, low and soft, his hands tightening around your waist as he pulled you close again. “Yeah,” he murmured, his voice filled with both affection and a lingering hunger. “I really do.”

Just as the heat between you and Aaron cooled off, the unthinkable happened, a sharp knock echoed through the SUV. Both of you froze, your breath still heavy, bodies tangled in the haze of lust and passion.

You quickly turned your head toward the window, your heart racing, only to see a familiar silhouette standing outside the car. It was Morgan. He leaned down, squinting through the heavily tinted windows, clearly trying to make out who was inside.

"Hey!" he called out, knocking on the window again, a curious lilt in his voice. "Who’s in the FBI car? I saw the lights on from outside the building."

Your eyes widened in panic, and you turned to Aaron, who looked as composed as ever, though you could see the flicker of frustration in his dark gaze. His hand was still gripping your waist, and your bodies were still connected. You had no time to move, no chance to hide what had just happened.

Aaron’s jaw clenched, and he leaned in close, whispering against your ear. "Stay quiet," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "I’ll handle it."

With a quick but careful motion, he pulled you tighter against him, using his suit jacket to shield the evidence of what had just transpired. He tapped a button on the door to roll the window down just a crack, keeping the inside of the car dark enough to hide you.

"Morgan," Aaron said, his voice as steady and authoritative as ever. "What are you doing out here this late?"

Morgan tilted his head, still trying to peer inside. "Hotch? What are you doing in the car with the lights on? I thought everyone had cleared out for the night."

You could feel your pulse pounding in your ears, your body still trembling from the intensity of the moment. You pressed yourself deeper into Aaron’s chest, trying to stay as still as possible, your heart racing as you waited for Morgan to give up and walk away.

But Morgan, ever the curious one, didn’t seem satisfied with Aaron’s calm demeanor. "Everything okay in there, man? You sure you’re not hiding something?"

Aaron gave him a sharp, knowing look. "Just wrapping up some paperwork. You can head home, Morgan."

For a moment, there was silence as Morgan seemed to process the situation. Then, with a skeptical shrug, he stepped back from the car. "Alright, Hotch. If you say so. But next time, don’t leave the lights on, you’re wasting company resources."

Aaron waited until Morgan had turned and walked back toward the office building before he let out a breath, his fingers still gripping your waist possessively.

“That was close,” you whispered, your voice shaky but laced with amusement.

Aaron smirked, his lips brushing your ear. “Too close.

taglist (lmk if u wanna be added): @looking1016 @pear-1206 @doe-eyed-diva @ssa-aaronhotchner @sweetpinkchampagne @totallyjovialblaze @pastelpinkflowerlife @donttrustlove @actualdeemon @jencole214 @fandomawesomeness

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotch #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds hotch #criminal minds imagine #hotchner x reader #hotchner smut

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sommerbueckers · 3 months ago

Note

BYEE imagine a little blurb of paige x gf reader where reader is wearing THAT ONE urban outfitter top w the titties out and she’s just going ferallll

𝘨𝘶𝘺𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘩𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘰𝘶𝘵…𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘲𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵, 𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶

___________________________________________________________

YOU WERE STANDING IN the mirror applying the last of your makeup— a little blush here, a little lipgloss there— when your girlfriend barged into the bathroom. She was already dressed, her makeup was done, hair was flawless, her phone charged and ready to go. She stared at you with narrow eyes.

"This is why we're late everywhere," she groaned, gesturing to the curling iron that was still hot and plugged in, and the makeup that was scattered around the sink.

"Well sorry not everyone wakes up as sexy as you," you mumbled absently, carefully lining your lips. "I need time."

"You need time management," she corrected.

You frowned and stood up straight, capping the liner and slipping it into your makeup bag. "Y'know you're one to talk, you get ready on time once and all of a sudden we're behind schedule because of me, you've got some nerve girl." When you were met with silence, you glanced at her to find her eyes on your chest. "Hello?"

Her eyes snapped up to yours, "Hm?"

"You're not even listening! You're just staring at my boobs," you accused her, gently poking her chest with your pointer finger.

"Can you blame me? I mean— they jus' sit so good in that shirt."

You playfully rolled your eyes, shutting off the bathroom light and leaving her alone in the darkness. She followed after you.

"You're gonna wear it outside?" she asked, now looking at your ass as you walked into the kitchen.

"Yes? Is that a problem for you?" you challenged.

"No," she scoffed, "Hell no. Would it look better in the house with some lil panties on? Probably. But, I can't stop you."

"You're right, you can't. So, let's go."

"I'LL TAKE THE PULLED PORK SANDWICH."

Paige had suggested taking a break in your errands and going to lunch. It didn't take much convincing, you hadn't eaten all day. You had had an odd craving for barbecue and ended up at a popular spot not too far from your apartment.

The waiter nodded at you, and then turned to Paige. "And for you?"

Paige didn't answer, her eyes glued to your cleavage as you shifted around in your seat. She had been unapologetically staring at day, lips parted, breathing heavy, an absolute wreck. Even now, with the waiter standing patiently as he waited for her to order, she couldn't bring herself to focus. He cleared his throat to no avail.

Finally noticing the way her attention was clearly on the wrong thing, you snapped your fingers in front of her face. "Paige."

"What?" she frowned, leaning back.

"Order your food."

"Shit, yeah." She quickly scanned the menu, "I'll take what she got, and you could bring out another shirley temple?"

"Sure thing," the guy nodded, flipping his notepad closed, taking the menus, and walking away.

"Dude you're a mess," you whispered, "Get yourself together, we're in public."

"So I can't admire my girlfriend in public?"

"I didn't say that, but you could at least pretend to be respectful about it," you said, laughing as you went to take a sip of your drink.

Paige shook her head, "Just wait 'till we get back home."

"YOU LOOK SO FUCKIN' GOOD RIGHT NOW," Paige murmured, hands behind her head as she leaned back on the couch. You had slowly pulled down your pants, taking your panties with them. Left in nothing but your urban outfitter top, you climbed on top of Paige's lap. Her hands instinctively went to your hips, sensually rubbing up and down. "Want you on my thigh."

"Oh!" you laughed out as you effortlessly moved you onto one of her legs, you bit your lip at the contact her thigh made with your core. "Take your sweatpants off..."

"Nuh uh," she smirked, "wanna see the mess you make." She glanced down at the wet spot on her light gray sweats from where she had just moved you. "C'mon mama, ride it."

___________________________________________________________

𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘢 𝘣𝘢𝘥..𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘮𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘶𝘵

#paige bueckers #wlw post #sommer bueckers #so says sommer #uconn wbb #gay as fuck #paige bueckers x reader #lesbian #request

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littlelamy · 2 months ago

Text

the aftermath of the fight: s1!rafe x reader

the tension in the cameron estate was thick, almost suffocating, clinging to every corner of the house. the echoes of raised voices were still fresh in your ears as you made your way down the corridor toward rafe’s room. the fight between him and ward had been explosive—a storm of bitter accusations, angry words, and the unmistakable sound of glass shattering. both men had walked away from it bruised, emotionally and physically.

you’d hesitated for a moment, but the silence that followed the chaos made your decision for you. rafe was volatile after moments like this, and the thought of him alone in that headspace made your heart ache.

the door to his room was slightly ajar. you pushed it open softly, stepping inside. the sight before you was both heartbreaking and infuriating. rafe sat on the edge of his bed, fists clenched tight, knuckles white. his face, usually sharp and full of confidence, was clouded with something darker—anger and pain, mingled with exhaustion.

“hey,” you called softly, keeping your voice gentle. “you need anything?”

his head snapped up, eyes meeting yours with a mix of frustration and something softer, more vulnerable. “what the hell are you doing here?” he snapped, voice rough and raw.

you took a deep breath, swallowing the sting his words left. “i’m here to help, rafe. i heard what happened. you’re hurt.”

he scoffed, turning his head away, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “i don’t need your pity.”

ignoring his harshness, you crossed the room and gently placed a hand on his shoulder. he flinched at your touch but didn’t pull away. “i’m not here to pity you,” you said softly. “i just want to make sure you’re okay.”

you knelt in front of him, taking his hands into yours, carefully turning them over to inspect the bruises and cuts that marked his skin.

“shit,” he muttered, wincing as you gently touched one of the scrapes. “this is a mess.”

“i know,” you replied, your tone soothing despite the tension in the air. “but we’ll fix it. let me help.”

he stared at you for a long moment, the frustration in his gaze slowly softening into something like resignation. “why the hell do you put up with me?” he asked quietly, voice barely audible. “i’m a mess.”

you sighed, reaching for the antiseptic. “because i care about you, rafe. and you’re more than just the anger or the pain.”

he looked away, the faintest blush creeping up his neck, shame weighing heavy on his expression. “i just wanted to prove something to him,” he mumbled. “i wanted him to see i’m not just some...”

you waited, dabbing the cloth on one of his cuts. “not just some what?”

“not just some disappointment,” he finished, the words heavy in the quiet room.

you shook your head, continuing to clean his wounds. “you’re not a disappointment, rafe. you’re just... hurting. and that’s okay. it doesn’t make you any less.”

he let out a low groan, eyes squeezing shut in frustration. “i hate this,” he muttered. “i hate feeling so...so weak.”

you paused, looking at him with a firmness he needed to hear. “you’re not weak. it takes strength to admit you’re struggling. and more to let someone help you.”

his hands trembled slightly in yours, and you could see the cracks forming in the walls he always built so high. the vulnerability in him was raw and real, and it tugged at your heart.

“why are you always so damn good to me?” he muttered, half exasperated, half grateful. “i don’t deserve it.”

you finished bandaging the worst of the cuts, sitting back on your heels. “maybe you don’t think you deserve it, but that doesn’t mean you don’t need it.”

he looked at you, eyes filled with something between frustration and relief. “you really mean that?”

you nodded, leaning up to pull him into a hug. his hesitation lasted only a moment before he wrapped his arms around you, holding you tight, almost like he was scared to let go. the embrace was intense, charged with emotion—his anger, your care, and a shared understanding.

as you pulled back slightly, your gaze locked with his, an unspoken tension hanging in the air. the kiss that followed was slow at first, your lips barely brushing his. but then, it deepened, the softness giving way to something more passionate, more urgent. his hands found your face, holding you close as he poured everything into that kiss—his regret, his need, his longing for something more than what his life had been up to now.

when you finally pulled away, both of you were breathing heavily, the intensity of the moment still lingering between you. rafe’s eyes were softer now, a little lighter, like the weight he carried had lessened, even if just a little.

“thank you,” he whispered, his voice quiet but sincere. “for being here... for putting up with me.”

you smiled softly, brushing a strand of hair away from his face. “i wouldn’t be anywhere else.”

for a moment, the world outside faded away. the fights, the pain, the weight of everything that had happened—it didn’t matter. in that small, quiet space, it was just the two of you, connected in a way that made the chaos of life feel a little more bearable.

#rafe obx #rafe imagine #rafe cameron #rafe x reader #rafe x you #outerbanks rafe #rafe fic #rafe outer banks #obx #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafecore #rafe cameron obx

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frostbitebakery · 7 months ago

Text

LOUD.

a Jedi Shadow!Obi-Wan AU

“Each of us, every single clone, is a one-man army. And yes, I am… I’m so proud of them. We protect the Galaxy, we die fighting for the Galaxy and its peoples. We are not made for peace times, Obi-Wan.”

The cynical part of Obi-Wan wants to ask why Cody is so steadfast in his belief when everywhere the clones go they’re confronted with people dismissing them, equating them to the droids they’re fighting.

He understands, though. Jedi are only welcome where people know about the help they can provide. The Order is looked down upon, the Jedi just as easily dismissed, more often than not when it comes to it.

And still. And still. The call to protect people is too strong to ignore. He doesn’t want to ignore the call. He can help so he does.

So yes, he understands Cody and his need to fight.

He watches as Cody self-consciously rubs the back of his neck, fingers not halting over the port, so— so used to its presence, as the silence reigns. Cody doesn’t try to further his explanations. He said his piece and that’s that.

Obi-Wan settles down on the floor in front of the weightlifting bench. And Cody.

He crosses his legs automatically, the armor he has to don if he wants to engage in the battles blessedly absent, here. His fingers find Cody’s other hand in his lap, tapping it lightly, glancing by the embedded screen in the armored boot proclaiming Cody as belonging to the 212th.

Commander Cody got his own Attack Battalion. Mace remains the immediate superior but the brass saw Cody’s merit. No Jedi can easily fill the role as war general and Cody is… too brilliant to not be in charge. He and Mace have been flattening the CIS, the GAR is only too happy to spread out their heavy hitters.

“He’s always giving them a chance to surrender first,” Cody had commented on Mace, pride and admiration shining from his whole body. “How he’s able to walk with balls like that is a mystery to me.”

Obi-Wan had politely choked on nothing.

Once Cody is looking at him, apologies in his eyes for being made for war, of war, Obi-Wan signs a simple question. “How would you know?”

Temper makes the scarred eyebrow rise and Obi-Wan continues, undeterred now that Cody’s attention isn’t on misplaced guilt.

“You know nothing but war. You’ve learnt nothing but war. You’ve,” Obi-Wan pauses to swallow the grief, “experienced nothing but war in your life. How would you know you’re not made for peace times when you haven’t even had the chance to live in them?”

A smile, half there and fleeing, cracks, warm brown eyes watch Obi-Wan’s hands. “In my darkest moments I’m not sure I’ll even see them.”

Obi-Wan is against false promises but hope has never left his life’s side and he’d like to share. “We work together and we end this war. We see as many of you and us on the other side as possible.”

“Sounds like an easy first step,” Cody laughs ruefully, and leans down, captures Obi-Wan’s unmasked face, blurred by the unknown, and holds their foreheads together for a long self-indulgent moment.

Obi-Wan ducks his head, mask and scars in place once more. “Is that something you wish? To see me?”

Cody shakes his head, shoulders tight. “I’m sorry. I went too far.”

No, you didn’t, Obi-Wan wants to tell him, I want you to see me.

Soon. Probably. As soon as Obi-Wan has removed the screws from his heart and their doubting pressure.

“I think I can help you,” Obi-Wan signs, bullheading through the burgeoning silence. “But I need your help for that.”

“What do you need,” Cody asks, all Commander now that he’s got a mission objective.

“I want to know how you can communicate neurally and who has access to that channel.” He’s been looking into it for months, always ending in front of a Kaminoan wall. He’s at his wits end and now, now, with Bail confirming Palpatine is shuffling credits to the CIS and it’s still only heresy where a court is concerned…

Kamino confirmed only authorized personnel has access to the comm links in the clones’ heads. What if those include the CIS?

Cody blinks in surprise. “General Windu has access to that information.”

Does he? Obi-Wan is beginning to doubt that fact. “Humor me.”

Shoulders go wide, straight, loose. “Protocol dictates that, in case of emergency in an engagement situation, a High General is able to deploy orders directly to a CC-class clone via the Force after initiating with the correct identification.”

The clones are password-locked. Obi-Wan tries very, very hard to keep his expression neutral. “I assume every Commander knows the identification?”

Cody starts to smile, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, ready to playfully lecture Obi-Wan about confidentiality. Obi-Wan can see that, can feel the intention of Cody to do so. Before his eyes sharpen like the back-up blade in the boot holster. “Is there a leak?”

“Not that I’m sure of,” Obi-Wan hurries to sign. “Cody, please, what is the initialization sequence?”

Cody watches him, tracks his every move and twitch and stillness with keen eyes. Obi-Wan lets him, not able to keep a lid on the worry he’s feeling, the Force hushed in absolute and anticipation. “Every Commander knows those words. No one else does. A High General can request it of his Commander. That is what General Windu knows. A Commander takes the words to their grave if they have to.” A built-in failsafe, based on the clones’ loyalty to the Republic. “And the Jedi,” Cody adds with a soft smile. “Maybe we have been trained to follow you but you have proven yourself over and over again. The initialization is—“ Cody’s face twists into confusion as the Force starts— starts to shriek in warning. “Is…”

Shards of glass hurtle towards Obi-Wan, high-pitched tone piercing his eardrums, hack into his thoughts—

“Who are you?”

Obi-Wan hurries, pulls a hand up and projects “Cody, wake”.

Cody wakes, blinks. Shakes the cloudy remnants of a dream gone wrong off, as stuck on him, burnt into him as some details of it are.

He looks up when he notices the presence by the training salle entry, smiles up at Obi-Wan, feels his eyes go soft, relaxed.

Obi-Wan stares back at him, mask in place which ups the distant, rumbling intensity of his gaze like an incoming storm. “Thank you,” he signs, and Cody can see the tremors in his fingertips. Blue eyes flick up to the surveillance camera in the ceiling, go back to him.

Cody… remembers. Obi-Wan pushing him behind a destroyed tank during battle, one hand covering the helmet camera while the other had signed “need to talk, no eyes” in battle signs.

He looks to the door again but Obi-Wan is suddenly right in front of him, cradling his face so gently Cody can feel tears prick at his eyes, forehead carefully, with no hesitation and too much meaning coming to rest against his.

#loud au #my wips #codywan #commander cody #I love putting him in tank tops

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blingblong55 · 2 days ago

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Claimed hearts- John Price NSFW

kinktober day 15

Based on a request: Hi! For kinktober, may I please request no.2 (smut)? Queen F!Reader x King!Price - both from different kingdoms was arranged for marriage. Reader was a bit reluctant with the proposition but goes on with it, while it has been Price’s plan all along. A bit of enemy to lovers vibe along side of stalker-ish/obsessed behaviour from Price. Thank you ☺️ ---- F!Reader, MDNI, 18+, P-in-V, unprotected!sex, power play, queen!reader, king!price, sexual!tension ----

The heavy doors close behind you, and silence drapes the room, thick with tense anticipation. There’s a pause—neither of you moves, though the air between you crackles with something charged, like the stillness before a storm.

Price stands there, impossibly composed, and yet there’s something fierce and raw lurking beneath that calm. His eyes, dark and keen, seem to map out every inch of you, as though assessing how to dismantle your resolve. In his gaze, you sense an intention—a fixation that makes you feel as though he’s not just watching you; he’s unravelling you, piece by piece.

“You can put on a brave face all you want,” he murmurs, taking a deliberate step toward you, “but we both know you’ve already surrendered.”

The words send a flush to your skin, though you narrow your eyes at him. “You think you know me?” you challenge, though the slight tremor in your voice betrays you. “You may have orchestrated this, but I’m no pawn, Price.”

His mouth curves into a slow, infuriating smirk, a look that leaves you teetering between fury and… something else. Something that leaves you breathless, that keeps you frozen as he crosses the remaining distance between you.

“Is that so?” he drawls, his voice dangerously soft. His fingers find a strand of your hair, brushing it aside with a gentleness that feels startlingly out of place. “Because I’d wager that deep down, you wanted this too—whether you’ll admit it or not.”

Your breath hitches as his hand trails, almost possessively, down your jawline. There’s a warmth to his touch that sends heat rushing through you, even as you try to resist it. But he’s close now, and the scent of him—a blend of leather, tobacco, and something unmistakably his—fogs your thoughts, blurring the line between defiance and a gnawing, undeniable pull.

“Tell me, then,” he murmurs, his voice coaxing yet edged with command. “Why did you agree to this marriage? Why did you choose to walk into my hands?”

The question is disarming, but his words are layered with an understanding that cuts through your defences. You open your mouth to respond, but he beats you to it, his voice a low, tantalizing whisper. “Because, my love, you knew this was inevitable. You knew you were mine long before you stepped through those doors.”

A shiver runs down your spine, and the truth of it, spoken so plainly, unsettles you. But there’s no room for denial as he cups your chin, lifting your face to his. The rough pad of his thumb brushes over your lower lip, and his gaze flickers with a restrained hunger that sends your pulse racing.

“You can fight it all you like,” he says softly, “but we both know where this leads.”

He leans in, his lips brushing yours in the faintest ghost of a kiss—a warning and a promise. You’re dizzy with the weight of it, with the way his presence seems to seep into you, claiming parts of you you’d long thought unyielding. His voice, dark and possessive, fills the space between you as he whispers, “I will have you, heart and soul.”

A shiver of anticipation threads through you, and you realize, perhaps too late, that you’re no longer the reluctant bride. Against all odds, he’s drawn you in, ensnared you with a touch, a look, a mere whisper of his intentions. And with his breath hot against your skin, you can almost feel the surrender waiting on your lips.

The silence stretches as he pulls back, his smirk unwavering as his eyes hold yours with an intensity that leaves you weak. And just before he steps away, his voice reaches you, low and unshakable. “You’re mine. Remember that.” Price's words linger in the air, a pronouncement that seems to echo in the stillness of the chamber. Your heart pounds in your ears, a staccato rhythm that matches the sudden rush of heat coursing through your veins. For a moment, you're rendered speechless, your mind reeling from the sheer audacity of his declaration.

But you're no stranger to defiance, and as he steps back, you find your voice, though it emerges shakier than you'd like. "I'm no one's," you retort, lifting your chin in a show of stubborn pride. "And I won't be tamed by you or anyone else."

Price's smirk only deepens, a glint of amusement sparking in his eyes. "Still playing the rebel, I see," he remarks, his tone rich with mocking affection. "But we both know that's just a facade, don't we?"

He moves closer again, his presence overwhelming, his scent enveloping you like a heady cloud. You feel the warmth of his breath against your skin as he leans in, the proximity making your senses riot. "You can deny it all you want, but your body tells a different story," he murmurs, his gaze dropping pointedly to your lips.

Your breath catches, and you're suddenly acutely aware of the way your skin tingles wherever he looks, as though his eyes alone can ignite a fire within you. You want to argue, to push him away, but the words stick in your throat as he trails a finger along your jawline, his touch searing.

"You're playing a dangerous game, Price," you manage, though the warning lacks conviction. Your voice is barely above a whisper, betraying the effect he has on you. "One that you might not win."

His low chuckle sends a shiver down your spine, and he leans in closer, his lips a hairsbreadth from yours. "Oh, I don't plan to lose," he breathes, his voice a husky murmur that stirs something deep within you. "And you, my dear, are the prize I intend to claim."

Price's words hang in the air, a challenge and a promise all at once. The space between you feels electric, charged with a tension that threatens to snap at any moment. Your heart races, your skin prickling with anticipation as he leans in, his breath ghosting over your lips.

"You think you can claim me so easily?" you breathe, though the defiance in your voice is wavering. His closeness is intoxicating, his presence overwhelming in a way that makes your head spin.

"Oh, I know it won't be easy," he murmurs, his lips brushing yours in a feather-light touch that sends sparks racing through you. "But nothing worth having ever is."

His hand slides up your arm, his fingers leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You shiver, your breath catching as he cups your cheek, his thumb tracing the curve of your lower lip. The gentleness of his touch belies the hunger in his eyes, a hunger that threatens to consume you whole.

"You can't deny the pull between us," he whispers, his voice low and rough with desire. "I see it in your eyes, feel it in how your body responds to mine."

He leans in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that steals the breath from your lungs. His tongue delves into your mouth, claiming you, possessing you in a way that leaves you dizzy with want. You moan, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pull him closer, desperate for more.

His hands roam your body, mapping every curve and valley as he deepens the kiss. You're lost in a haze of sensation, your mind reeling from the intensity of his passion. He breaks away, leaving you panting and flushed, your lips swollen from his attentions.

"Tell me you want this," he demands, his gaze boring into yours with an intensity that takes your breath away. "Tell me you're mine, body and soul."

You hesitate momentarily, your pride warring with the desire that courses through your veins. But as he leans in once more, his lips hovering over yours, you know there's no escape.

"I'm yours," you breathe out. The air crackles with electricity as Price's lips claim yours again, his kiss hungry and demanding. His hands roam your body with urgency, mapping every curve and dip as if memorizing your form. You moan into his mouth, your fingers digging into his shoulders, pulling him closer.

He breaks the kiss, trailing his lips down your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin. You gasp, your head falling back as he marks you, claiming you as his own. His hands slip under your shirt, calloused fingers skimming over your heated flesh, igniting a fire wherever they touch.

"You're so responsive," he growls, his voice rough with desire. "I can feel how much you want this."

His hands cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your bra. You arch into his touch, craving more of his attention. He obliges, sliding your bra straps down your shoulders and exposing your breasts to his hungry gaze.

"Beautiful," he murmurs, before taking one nipple into his mouth. You cry out, your fingers tangling in his hair as he suckles and teases the sensitive bud. His hand massages your other breast, kneading the soft flesh until you're writhing beneath him.

He trails kisses down your stomach, his fingers making quick work of your pants. You lift your hips, allowing him to slide them down your legs, leaving you bare before him. His eyes darken with lust as he takes in the sight of you, his gaze lingering on your slick, glistening folds.

"So wet for me already," he rasps, his fingers parting your folds, teasing your entrance. "I knew you'd be tight, but this…this is unexpected."

He circles your clit with his thumb, sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through you. You buck against his hand, desperate for more, but he holds you in place, his grip firm on your hips.

"Patience," he murmurs, his eyes locked on yours. "I'm going to take my time with you, savour every inch of your delicious body."

Price's words send a shiver down your spine, your core clenching with anticipation. He positions himself between your thighs, the heat of his body enveloping you. You reach for him, your hands sliding over his broad shoulders, down his muscular arms.

"Please," you whisper, your voice thick with need. "I want you inside me."

He smiles, a wicked gleam in his eye as he reaches down, gripping his hard length. He teases your entrance with the head of his cock, the contact sending sparks of pleasure racing through you. You moan, your hips lifting in a silent plea for more.

With a slow, deliberate thrust, he sinks into you, stretching you, filling you in a way you've never experienced before. You cry out, your nails digging into his back as he hilts himself inside you.

"Fuck," he groans, his head falling forward, resting against yours. "You feel incredible." He starts to move, his hips rocking against yours in a steady rhythm. Each thrust sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, your walls clenching around him, drawing him deeper. You meet his movements, your legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer.

The room fills with the sound of skin against skin, the scent of sex mingling with the heady aroma of his cologne. He leans down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss as he drives into you, his pace quickening, his breath coming in harsh pants against your ear. "Come for me," he growls, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing in tight circles. "I want to feel you come undone around my cock."

His words, combined with the relentless pressure of his fingers and the delicious stretch of his length inside you, send you careening over the edge. You come with a cry, your walls clamping down around him, milking his length. He follows you, his hips stuttering as he spills himself inside you, his seed filling you, marking you as his. You cling to each other, your bodies trembling with the aftershocks of your shared release.

Tags: @liyanahelena @ghostslillady @juneonhoth @Simonssweetgirl @nellsbobells @coralwitchdreamland @nobodys-coffee @sae1kie @anonymuslydumb @goldenmclaren @moonsua1 @frazie99 @saoirse06 @alxexhearts @baldwinhearts @tiredmetalenthusiast @jinxxangel13 @strangepuppynightmare @enarien @luvecarson @ikohniik @strawberrychita @queen-ilmaree @Llelannie @Macnches2 @bbyfimmie @avidreadee123 @talooolaaloolla @skelletonwitch @bittermajesties @1234beeandpuppycat @sparky–bunny @honestlyhiswife @who-can-appease-me @ghostwifeyy @konigssultwithghost @pinkblossomsworld @kaoyamamegami @the_royal_bee @beansproutmafia @soapybutt17 @a-goose-with-a-knife @foxface013 @born4biriyani @thegreyjoyed @mychemichalimalance @marshiely @iruzias @sleepyycatt @noodlezz-bedo @trinthealternate @vampsquerade @azkza @VampyTheGoth

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shotmrmiller · 8 months ago

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absolutely not a smoker but

imagine stepping out of that rowdy pub you tend to visit with your friends. The chilly evening air cooling your overheated skin.

The place can get a little too lively, sometimes you have to step out to take a breather. Or a smoke break, like in this instance.

Placing the lit cigarette in the corner of your mouth, you lean back against the brick wall of the establishment, feeling the cold seep through your jacket. Tipping your head back, you gaze at the night sky; shimmering specks of light scattered across the deep darkness, with the full moon gently illuminating the surroundings.

And then the pub doors squeal as they swing open, but you keep your eyes up and away.

Gravel crunches under the person's feet as they walk. Only for those footsteps to get closer to you.

God fucking damnit. You don't want to talk to anyone right now- your social battery is currently charging.

Exhaling softly, you close your eyes and open them as you turn to look at whoever is approaching and... the cigarette almost slips from your fingers from the fright.

A man that's a head taller than most, shoulders too broad, chest like a barrel. His thigh was the size of both of yours pressed together. He wore all black- the leather jacket creased around where the sleeves and where the elbow crooks. Well-worn but still in good condition.

But what almost sent your heart into failure was the skull balaclava mask he wore over his face.

Fucking hell, why is he staring at you like that?

Tapping the smoke with your pointer, you place it back in your mouth and pull the sides of your open jacket over your midsection, crossing your arms after.

"Can I help you?"

His response is immediate. "Bum a cig off ya?" he asks, a mancunian accent heavy on his tongue.

Shrugging to yourself, you shake the box and offer him the one, which he takes without even a thank you.

Ingrate.

"Got a match?"

Wordlessly, the lighter clicks once and a weak flame comes out of it. Only to get snuffed by the crisp breeze. Your thumb rotates the spark wheel once again, but this time you cup your hand around the pathetic little fire.

It holds long enough, so you watch him pull the mask up just enough to put the smoke in between his thin, chapped lips and lean forward to the lighter in your hands.

A warm puff of air extinguishes the flame.

His dark eyes cut to you- dark, nondescript. You flick the tip of your cigarette with your tongue in frustration.

Then his gaze wanders to the dim, orange glow on the other end. "Bum the light, then."

Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline but otherwise do as he says- rising to the tiptoes, and draw in a steady breath, the burning end flaring.

His face gets too close to what anyone would deem appropriate, getting a real good view of his unfairly long, wispy ash-brown lashes that framed his eyes.

The furl of smoke begins to rise, stinging your nose, and he finally straightens, the lit cigarette bouncing in his mouth.

The silence after is comfortable, just two complete and utter strangers having a smoke.

Tossing the filter to the ground, you step on it and crush it with your heel as exhale the remnants of it. A small wave his way and you head back inside.

If you'd paid any sort of attention, you would've noticed that the smoke that came out of his mouth was too thick, concentrated. As if it just sat there, instead of going through his lungs.

He gives it 3 more minutes before putting out his own, nearly full cig under his boot and following right behind you.

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #cod mw2 #cod mwii #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

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theemporium · 1 year ago

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[2.3k] the hour is early, the lakehouse is quiet and luke finally gets a moment to appreciate his pretty girlfriend. (smut)

Luke Hughes was never a morning person.

Despite years of playing competitive hockey which resulted in early morning games and even earlier practices, he still despised waking up. He hated when he had to wake up early. He hated when he was woken up early by someone else. He just hated mornings in general, and he was glad when summer break finally came around and he had an excuse to sleep in a little longer than usual.

Which was why it was so odd he was awake—on his own accord—this early in the morning.

He tried to blink away the heavy feeling in his head as he reached for his phone, tapping the screen. His brows furrowed together at the early morning time flashing across his screen before he let out a small groan of annoyance.

He let out a small huff as he leaned back down on the bed, but despite the sleepiness he felt, he was too awake to just close his eyes and hope he could doze off again.

Luke stared blankly at his ceiling for a few moments, debating his options before he felt you shuffling beside him. He turned his head, seeing you instantly move closer to him like you knew he was awake.

His lips twitched upwards as he took in the sight of you. This was your first summer at the lakehouse, and he knew all too well how nervous you had been. You were panicked, scared that his family and friends wouldn’t like you—minus Jack who you’d obviously already met. You were scared about packing the wrong clothes, or forgetting something. You were worried you’d make a total fool of yourself.

As Luke had told you many times, your worries were instantly squashed the second you walked through the door. Everybody made you feel welcome, everybody fell in love with you a little bit just like Luke had. You fit in with the dynamic, and Luke couldn’t help but feel something quite like pride blossom in his chest whenever he saw how well you got on with the people he cared most about in his life.

And maybe he also enjoyed the fact you left him in charge of packing and he just happened to accidentally forget to pack your pyjamas.

You had spent the last week just sleeping in his shirts and, fuck, he would be lying if he said he didn’t love it. He liked the way they engulfed you, the way the hem brushed against your thighs and the way he could see your panties peeking under the shirt when you stretched your leg over his. He liked the fact you wore his shirts so proudly, that you liked that hidden possessiveness just as much as he did.

Before you could even get the chance to move away, he wound his arm around you and pulled you close to him, until you were practically sprawled over his chest. He lifted his hand, softly pushing some of your hair behind your ear as he took the silence of the early morning to just appreciate how fucking pretty you were.

Despite the months of you two being together, it never failed to amaze him that someone as gorgeous as you were with him. Both inside and out, Luke would forever claim he had never met someone more beautiful than you, and he stood by that—even if it was just to watch the way you’d blush after he’d say it.

His lips ghosted across your skin, a light but loving kiss placed on your forehead before his arms tightened around you to pull you closer.

“Hm,” you groaned before nuzzling your face further into his chest. “Stay still.”

“M’sorry, baby, didn’t mean to wake you up,” he murmured in a soft voice, a flash of guilt hitting him as he watched your face scrunch up.

“What time is it?” Your words were slurred together, your eyes still firmly shut as you spoke.

“Too early to be awake,” he grumbled before pressing another kiss to your forehead. “Go back to bed, sleep for another few hours.”

Your brows furrowed together. “Why are you not asleep?”

“I don’t know,” he admitted as his hands slid under the hem of your—his—shirt, his long fingers tracing random shapes along your back. “Just woke up, I guess.”

You frowned a little. “You okay?”

His lips twitched upwards at your sleepy concern. “Yeah, babe, I’m good. Just go back to bed.”

“I want you to sleep with me,” you muttered out.

Luke snorted. “Oh yeah?”

You let out a small huff of annoyance, softly pinching his side. “Not like that, creep.”

“You’re the one who said it,” he retorted, knowing full well that if you were properly awake right now, you’d be rolling your eyes at him.

“Like I’d ever sleep with you,” you retorted, though he could feel the way your smile was pressed against his skin.

“I think I could convince you,” he murmured as he ducked his head down, kissing a spot just below your ear.

You shivered slightly. “That was a lucky guess.”

“Yeah?” His grin widened slightly as his palms spread across your back, warm and smooth against your skin as he maneuvered you until he could duck his head into the crook of your neck and kiss along your skin. “Is this a lucky guess too?”

“Everyone likes being kissed on the neck,” you said, but your response sounded a little breathier than you cared you admit as you felt his curls tickle your skin.

“Just your neck?” He questioned, softly humming against your neck as his fingers hooked the neckline of the shirt you were wearing, his kisses trailing along your collarbone towards your shoulder.

“Luke,” you breathed out. “We can’t.”

His teeth lightly scraped against the base of your neck as you arched into him. “Why not?”

“People will hear us,” you murmured, but the excuse sounded deaf to your own ears.

“Nobody is awake right now,” he told you, and you knew he was right. You two were probably the only ones awake right now, there was no risk of you getting caught. “Just gotta make sure you stay quiet, babe.”

“Luke—oh.”

Your eyes fluttered shut as his hands gripped your waist, turning you around so your back was pressed against his chest. You could feel his body pushed against yours, could feel heart pounding in his chest and his cock straining against the fabric of his pyjama trousers. You could feel everything as his arm wound around your waist, his hand splayed against your stomach.

“Think you can keep quiet?” His lips brushed against your ear as he spoke, low and gruff and, fuck, if it didn’t make you squeeze your thighs together.

“I can be quiet,” you promised, turning your head to the side to try and catch his lips with your own.

His lips twitched upwards as he moved his head back a little, just enough to ghost yours. “Yeah?”

“Yeah—” Your lips parted in surprise as his hand moved south, his palm cupping your cunt in his hand. “Luke.”

“Shhh, thought you were gonna be quiet,” he scolded mockingly as he pressed the heel of his palm against your clit, slow and purposeful moves that made a pretty whimper leave your mouth. “Don’t wanna wake anyone up, do we, babe?”

You shook your head, too scared to talk.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet f’me,” he murmured as he nosed your cheek and jaw, his fingers tracing over your clothed cunt as you squirmed at the light touch.

“Please,” you whispered.

“Tell me what you need,” he demanded softly. “Say the words, baby.”

“Need you inside me, please,” you whispered as your hand reached behind, curling around his neck until your fingers tangled themselves in his curls.

“Gonna give my girl whatever she wants,” he said as he nuzzled his face against your neck once again, little nips and bites making you arch back into his embrace as his fingers slid past the waistband of your panties.

Your mouth fell agape as his fingers pressed against your clit, slowly circling as you wiggled your hips back into him. He lifted his head enough to watch your face as his fingers slid along your wet pussy, your arousal soaking his fingers as he traced up and down your slit.

He watched the way your free hand slapped over your mouth when he finally sunk one finger inside you, feeling the way your walls clenched around him. He watched your eyes flutter close as he slid another finger inside you. He watched as he curled his fingers inside you, hitting that spot that only his fingers seemed to reach as you let out a muffle cry behind your palm.

“Luke, Luke, Luke,” your breathing was shaky as your hand darted down to grip his wrist. “Please.”

“Words, baby, words,” he murmured softly, his lips pressing soft kisses along your cheek and jaw as you tried to form a coherent sentence.

“Wanna come on your cock,” you confessed, turning your head to look up at him with bleary, wet eyes. “It’s been so long, baby, please.”

And that wasn’t an exaggeration in the slightest. Because as much as Luke loved the lakehouse and as much as he loved spending time with the people he cared about, it fucking sucked that he had barely touched you since you both arrived.

It sucked that there was always somebody in the house. It sucked that he couldn’t take the boat out with you without everyone knowing exactly what he wanted to do. It sucked he couldn’t just go out on a drive with you either. It sucked he couldn't even sneak into the shower with you after Jack got caught doing the same thing with a girl a few years back.

It fucking sucked that Luke had to watch his pretty girlfriend prance around in little bikinis and shorts, and have to keep his hands all to himself.

But here you were with wide eyed and flushed cheeks as you begged for his cock, as you begged to feel him inside you again, as you begged for him.

He could’ve come alone from your voice. But he didn’t want that, and this wasn’t the time for it. He didn’t know how much longer you two would have before someone in the house woke up, he didn’t know how much time he had until it wouldn’t be you two alone in this little dusk bubble, and he didn’t want to waste anymore time.

He pushed the plaid pyjama bottoms down enough to free his cock, gripping his length with the same fingers that were inside you minutes ago. He let out a hushed list of curse words as he stroked himself, nuzzling his body closer to your until he could hook your panties to the side and slowly slide into you.

“Oh shit—” His free hand quickly slammed over your mouth, the noises quiet and muffled as he bottomed out inside you.

You were tight. So fucking tight and warm around him, and fuck, Luke was prepared to wake up early every day if he got to fuck you like this. He pulled his hips back before thrusting back into you, his eyes fluttering shut as he listened to your muffled moans.

There was something so intimate about it all. The morning sun starting to filter through the cracks in the curtains, the birds chirping outside and the calming sound of nature accompanying the sound of his hips slapping against your ass as he slowly fucked you.

“You feel so good,” he groaned, his voice a little whiny as he finally pulled his hand away from your mouth. “Squeezing me so good, baby.”

“Kiss me,” you murmured breathlessly, your body rocking with his thrusts. “Kiss me, please.”

And he couldn’t deny you such a simple demand, not when you were asking so nicely.

His lips slanted over yours as he kissed you. It was slow and messy and passionate, and he couldn’t help but let out a small groan when he felt your walls clench around him as his tongue pushed against yours. His hands tightened on your hips, his thrusts slower and harder as he felt your body completely sag against his.

“Shit, that’s it,” he panted against your lips. “Come f’me, honey, just like that.”

The noise you let out was soft and high-pitched when you finally came. Your body tensing and your walls clenching around him as you dug your nails into his forearm. You let out a soft cry as you came, letting the feeling of relief finally wash over you after almost two weeks of wanting nothing more than to jump your boyfriend’s bones.

Luke came soon after you, a few more thrusts before he was spilling inside you. He didn’t have the heart to pull out just yet, his forehead resting against yours as he took a second to try and get air back into his lungs.

“Think we can risk a shower?” You questioned after a few moments of silence, feeling his smile ghost over yours.

“Not a fucking chance,” he grumbled with a small sigh of annoyance. “What’s the rush anyways? Let’s just stay like this.”

“And let Trevor walk in on us like he tries to do every morning?” You commented with a snort. “Not a chance.”

Luke just let out a small whine as he curled his arms around you. “Five minutes,” he murmured in a softer voice. “Please? You feel good.”

“Five minutes,” you conceded. “But don’t fall asleep.”

But Luke was already fighting a yawn as he pressed his face against your shoulder. “Of course not, baby, I’m wide awake.”

“Liar.”

“I’ll make it up to you later.”

“In the shower?”

Luke snorted. “Keep dreaming, babe.”

#luke hughes #nhl #new jersey devils #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes x you #luke hughes x y/n #luke hughes fic #luke hughes one shot #luke hughes smut #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot #nhl smut

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exhaslo · 18 days ago

Text

Over-Time Ch19 (END)

(CEO!Miguel x Shy/Clumsy!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4,Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14, Ch15, Ch16, Ch17, Ch18

Warning: MINORS DNI, SMUT, sexual thoughts, slow-burn, mentions of sex, bullying, cussing, fluff, touch starved

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"Due to the evidence provided, we can confirm that this contract is null and void. My client would also like to inform Miss Dana that the intended nature of this action will not be easily dismissed. He wishes to press charges for emotional distress, breaking and entering and several other charges that were committed during the time of this ongoing investigation."

Miguel had a smug grin on his face as he watched Dana's facial expressions. His lawyer was ripping into her and her lawyer. Finally, the payback that he had been waiting for.

"And if my client doesn't accept the terms?" Dana's lawyer dared ask. Miguel just resisted a chuckle,

"That would be quite a shame. I would imagine how the news would eat this up."

"They'd go after you and that little mouse too, hun." Dana snarled angrily. Miguel just smiled,

"But what would look worse? The CEO who just wanted to enjoy his time with his future wife, or the snake who tried to steal everything from him by fraud?"

Dana's lip scrunched up as she showed visible anger. Miguel just leaned back, enjoying the rest of the conversation between the two lawyers.

--------------

Typing away on your tablet, you were planning Miguel's schedule for the following month. Holidays were coming up and that meant a lot of vacation time, which was free time for you as well. You just had to think about what you were going to do.

"Hm, I wonder how long Miguel's meeting will be?" You muttered to yourself.

"Miss me already?" Miguel whispered against your ear as his arms snaked around your wasit.

"Ah! M-Miguel!" You squeaked, dropping your tablet. "H-How did the meeting go?"

"Perfect thanks to you,"

Your lips twitched into a smile as Miguel kept complimenting your clumsiness. You wrapped your arms around his neck as Miguel started to kiss you. His hands groping your ass as Miguel lifted you onto your desk.

"Miguel, what if someone-"

"You've been working for me how long? Who's going to come in here?" Miguel asked with a low chuckle as he started to undo your pants, "Gotta wear more skirts, (Y/N). You tease me like this."

"Hehe, because we shouldn't be doing this at wo-mhm~!" You moaned softly as Miguel's hands started to rub against your panties.

"I won't stop until I've fucked you in every corner of this building," Miguel nibbled against your ear as you squirmed against his hand.

"Hah~ Miguel, s-so mean!"

"GUESS WHO'S BACK-"

Both you and Miguel froze as the door was kicked opened by none other than Lyla. Immediately you hid behind Miguel as he just stood still in place. The silence growing louder by the second.

"I need another month."

"Granted."

Just like that, Lyla left.

Once the awkward silence died down, you couldn't help but laugh. Miguel followed suit, holding your body as the two of you shared a moment of humor.

"See? That's why we wait until we're alone at home," You snickered. Miguel raised a brow before his fingers started to move again,

"Oh? Calling my place home already?"

"Ah-" Your cheeks started to burn as you glanced away from Miguel.

"So adorable. I want it to be your home too. Our h-"

"OKAY! I HAVE TO ASK!" Lyla came bursting in once more, causing Miguel to remove his hands with a heavy sigh, "How long until you caved?!"

"Lyla, go back to your vacation." Miguel grumbled. Meanwhile, you fixed yourself behind him,

"H-Hello, Lyla."

"Hi, (Y/N). C'mon, a week? A month?"

"Why don't I fill you in after your vacation?" Miguel stressed once more, "We're celebrating here." Lyla raised a brow,

"Celebrating?"

"Yep! Miguel is free from Dana," You chirped, standing behind Miguel with a bright smile. Miguel wrapped his arm around your waist,

"(Y/N) here helped make it happen."

"Forreal?!" Lyla gasped loudly, "How?!"

"Ah-"

You looked towards the ground, avoiding eye contact as you recalled the recording. Do you say that you were recording the conversation? If so, then that would admit to Lyla that you and Miguel were with each other for a good while.

"Jesus, cut the silence will ya? I get it, you fucked, tell me the details about that bitch finally getting what she deserved!" Lyla grinned as she went to sit on the couch, "Wait...Is this couch safe?"

"No." Miguel said quickly with a smirk.

"Ugh, is any part of this office safe?" Lyla asked with a huff. Miguel pointed to a corner, "(Y/N), you need to control his dick. This whole building will be tainted."

"That was his plan," You whispered.

Once Lyla took her tiny seat, Miguel explained to her the details of what happened. Not everything, because Lyla didn't need nor want to know about how lovely dove the two of you were in your relationship.

Once Miguel finished, Lyla was all giddy in her seat. She stood with a small jump and grabbed her bags again,

"Finally! Now I won't have to worry about sinking my new nails into that bitch's tough skin. Anyway, thanks for another month vacation~ When I come back I expect my office to be so clean it sparkles!"

"We didn't touch your office," Miguel grumbled. Lyla gave him a look,

"I can't trust you."

"W-We really didn't! Promise!" You blurted out, embarrassed by the thought.

"Okay! Bye!"

Once Lyla left, Miguel let out a heavy sigh. He picked you up and plumped himself down on the couch. You giggled and pecked his lips, grabbing Miguel's attention.

"So, why Lyla comes back next month...what happens to me?" You asked. Miguel raised a brow as he pinned you against the couch,

"I can give you a few choices," He hummed, capturing your lips in a kiss, "I have one in mind."

"I can work in bookkeeping~" You chirped. Miguel undid your pants, grumbling softly,

"In your office then,"

"Hehe, not what you had in mind?"

"No, but we can make it work if that's what you want," Miguel hummed.

With a smile, you wrapped your arms around Miguel and pulled him in for a kiss. To think, the man you first bumped into during your interview would be the man of your dreams. Someone who treated you right and with care.

Ding

"Mhm, Mig..." You mumbled between kisses, "That's....your next appointment."

"Shit," Miguel cussed as he looked at you with pleading eyes, "Just a quickie then. I need to have a taste of you."

"Hehe, okay."

Miguel was late to that appointment.

--------

A few months later

"Hey, (Y/N)! How's the budget coming for the Spring Banquet?" Lyla asked as she entered your office.

"Ah! Going w-well. We should be able to get that singer we were talking about~"

"Forreal?!" Lyla gasped and jumped for joy, "Miguel better be careful before I snatch you up!"

"Too late," You laughed, showing your ring. Lyla gasped, holding your hand before dragging you into Miguel's office,

"YOU DIDN'T THINK TO INFORM ME?!"

"Of?" Miguel raised a brow and saw Lyla pointing towards your ring, "Ah, I knew you would get too involved. Don't worry, I already included you in wedding preparations."

"Damn straight you did!" Lyla grinned from ear to ear, "So when the lil one coming?"

Flinching at her words, you covered your face in embarrassment before running towards Miguel. Your fiancé could only chuckle as he sat you on his lap,

"Already on the way,"

"Hehe, I'll get the names started."

"No! Just-" Miguel sighed heavily, "Why don't you see the email I sent you instead?"

Lyla clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she left. Miguel wanted to sigh, but alas, he found his assistant quite humorous at times.

"I got us an appointment with the doctor for next week." Miguel hummed as he kissed your head, "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good, Miguel. It's just morning sickness, it's normal." You nuzzled against Miguel, "Even better with all the snacks you give me."

"Have to make sure that you are healthy, mi amor (my love)." Miguel cupped your cheek, kissing your tenderly, "I love you."

Melting into the kiss, you closed your eyes. Miguel was always so kind and caring to you. He was going to be your husband. The CEO of a powerful company, marrying a clumsy goofball like you. It felt like a fairy tale.

"I love you too,"

A fairy tale that you were more than happy to be in.

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Hope you enjoyed!!! Might be a minute until I post the next story!!! Might start my Grimmjow obsession again muahahahaha

Here's a sneak peak of my next Miguel story: Level Up

Puzzle Pieces (Mafia!Miguel x Shy!Fem!Reader)

Corruption (Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Masterlist

@timidquindim @decentsoupperson @ivkygirly @reader-1290 @daddyfroglegs @eepybunny0805 @ddreabea @iamperson12280 @migueloharasoulmate @tojishugetiddies @koko-1025 @hyeinwluv85s @daisy-artfield @migueloharastruelove @a-lil-whore @hcqwxrtss123 @the-pan-liquid @tojisfav @pochapo @bubblegumfanfictions @brighterthanlonelythoughts @ghstypaint @mangoslushcrush @synamonthy @scaleniusrm @moonspectorx @dorck26 @a060403 @lunablackcosplay @soraya-daydreams @lovefanfic1 @mymrsweirdnessshipperstuff-blog @pretty-pink-princesss @corpsebridenightamare @razertail18 @gachagator @droolingmuttt @miguelsfavwife @ryzguy06 @raideaters-blog @manishkaworld @keidilla @byjessicalotufo @pigeonmama @k3ythesapphic @acesangels @stealingyourturts @angel-xx-1 @amberbalcom14 @ofmenanduhhhwellmen @oscarissac2099 @keepghostly @zeyzeys-stuff @k3ythesapphic @nightingale1011 @uncle-eggy @safixiovi @flaps200 @dahehow @weirdothatwritess @gerblinradio @electronicchaoschaos @mafiaanomaly @keyisloved @unwrittenletter @reader4life @leenasgirl200 @oscarissac2099 @mari0-o @cinnamoro1l @leryg0 @hizzielover @resident-clown @girl-of-multi-fandoms @sana-408-blog

#miguel o'hara x reader #miguel spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel spiderman #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara smut #across the spiderverse #miguel x you #miguel x fem!reader

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dandelions-143 · 19 days ago

Text

Make Up Sex - Minho

Kinktober Masterlist

Word Count: 2338

Warnings: MDNI, 18+ ONLY, Explicit sexual content, strong language

No summary just smut under the cut

"You're still mad at me?" Minho asked softly as he approached you, his voice laced with concern and a hint of guilt. You were curled up on your couch, a book held loosely in your hands, but your eyes remained fixed on a single point, unseeing. The tension in your shoulders and the slight furrow of your brow betrayed your emotional state, despite your attempts to appear engrossed in reading.

The silence between you was palpable, thick with unspoken words and lingering hurt. For the past week, you had maintained a steadfast silence, your usual warmth replaced by a cold distance that seemed to stretch for miles. Minho's attempts at conversation had been met with curt nods or stony silence, each non-response a sharp reminder of the pain that still simmered beneath the surface.

As Minho drew closer, you could feel the weight of his gaze upon you, filled with remorse and a desperate desire to bridge the gap that had formed between you. The air in the room felt heavy, charged with a week's worth of unresolved tension and the bitter aftertaste of disappointment. Despite your resolve to maintain your emotional fortress, you couldn't help but feel a flicker of longing for the comfort of his presence.

Minho hesitated at the threshold, the key you'd given him a year ago heavy in his hand. It was more than just a piece of metal now - it was a symbol of the trust between you, a trust now strained by recent events. He turned it over in his palm, feeling the familiar ridges and grooves, before finally inserting it into the lock with a soft click.

As he stepped into the room, the air felt thick with tension. His eyes found you immediately, curled up on the couch, your posture defensive. Minho's heart clenched at the sight. He moved towards you, each step careful and measured, as if approaching a wounded animal. The usual confidence in his stride was replaced by uncertainty, his body language betraying his inner turmoil.

Reaching the couch, Minho lowered himself to a crouch in front of you. His eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, now held a mix of regret and hope. He raised his hands, hovering for a moment before gently placing them on your thighs. The warmth of his touch, once a source of comfort, now sent conflicting signals through your body. You could feel the slight tremor in his fingers, a physical manifestation of his nervousness.

As his hands began to move, tracing soothing patterns on your skin, you felt your body instinctively respond. The familiar touch ignited a warmth in your core, a reminder of the intimacy you shared. Yet, your mind rebelled against the comfort, the hurt still raw and present. You tensed, muscles coiling tight beneath his fingertips, fighting against the urge to lean into his touch, to let the warmth of his hands melt away the ice of your anger.

Despite your best efforts, a shiver ran through you as Minho leaned closer. His breath tickled your ear, sending goosebumps across your skin. "I'm sorry, baby," he whispered, his voice filled with regret. "Let me make it up to you." His lips, soft and familiar, brushed against your neck. You felt your resolve wavering, the wall you'd built starting to crumble.

Unable to hold back any longer, you blurted out, "I heard you were talking to a girl.. Is that why you forgot our date?" The words came out more accusatory than you'd intended, laced with jealousy and hurt. Minho's eyes widened, a mix of surprise and pain flashing across his face as he realized the depth of your misunderstanding.

Gently, he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze intense and sincere as it met yours. "Baby, no," he said firmly, his thumbs caressing your cheeks. "There's no one else but you. I messed up, and I'm so, so sorry." His voice softened, filled with remorse. "I was at the studio, trying to get the guys to learn the new choreography. I got so caught up in it that I lost track of time."

You felt a surge of anger rising within you. "Lost track of time? Minho, I waited for hours! I called you multiple times, sent countless messages. Do you have any idea how worried I was?" Your voice trembled with a mix of hurt and frustration.

Minho's face fell, guilt washing over his features. "I know, I know. My phone died and I didn't even realize. When I finally checked it and saw all your missed calls and messages, I felt horrible." He ran a hand through his hair, clearly distressed. "I rushed over here as soon as I could, but you wouldn't answer the door. I've been trying to talk to you all week."

You crossed your arms, not quite ready to let go of your anger. "And what about the girl I heard you were talking to? How do I know there's nothing going on there?"

Minho's eyes widened in surprise, then softened with understanding. "The girl? Oh, you must mean Lynn, our new choreographer. She's just a colleague, nothing more. Is that why you've been so upset?" He took your hands in his, his touch gentle but firm. "You're the only one in my heart, Y/N. Always have been, always will be. It's no excuse, I know, but I swear, you're the only one for me."

You hesitated, still feeling hurt and unsure. "But why didn't you call or text? You left me waiting for hours, Minho. Do you have any idea how that felt?" Your voice trembled slightly, a mix of anger and pain seeping through.

Minho's face fell, guilt washing over his features. "I... I messed up, I know. My phone died and I didn't realize how late it had gotten. I'm so sorry, baby. I never meant to hurt you like that."

His hands moved to your waist, pulling you closer with a gentle yet firm grip. The warmth of his palms seeped through the thin fabric of your shirt, igniting a fire beneath your skin. "Let me show you how much you mean to me," he murmured, his voice low and husky. His lips hovered mere millimeters from yours, his warm breath fanning across your face, smelling faintly of mint.

You felt your anger melting away like ice under the sun, replaced by a familiar warmth that spread through your body like wildfire. The tension that had been coiled tight in your muscles began to unwind, your body instinctively leaning into his touch. Minho's presence was intoxicating, drawing you in like a moth to a flame.

His touch was electric, each point of contact between your bodies sending jolts of sensation coursing through your veins. It ignited a passion that only he could kindle, a desire that burned hot and bright. His fingers began to trace delicate patterns on your skin, feather-light touches that left goosebumps in their wake. They danced along your sides, circled your hips, and ghosted up your spine, each movement deliberate and tantalizing. The contrast between his strong hands and these gentle caresses was maddening, sending shivers cascading down your spine and causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

This man was going to be the death of you - you thought to yourself, feeling your resolve crumble like sand beneath the waves of desire. You couldn't resist him any longer, your body yearning for his touch. As his lips finally met yours, you melted into his embrace, all thoughts of anger evaporating. The kiss was soft at first, a gentle apology that whispered across your lips, but it quickly grew more intense, igniting a fire that spread through your veins.

Minho's hands roamed your body with a desperate hunger, leaving trails of goosebumps in their wake. His touch was electric, each caress sending jolts of pleasure coursing through you. You could feel the heat radiating from his skin. His fingers tangled in your hair, the gentle tugging sending shivers down your spine as he pulled you closer, deepening the kiss. The taste of him was intoxicating.

As the kiss intensified, you felt yourself getting lost in the sensation. The world around you faded away until there was nothing but Minho - his touch, his taste, his scent enveloping you completely. When he finally broke the kiss, his breath came in short, ragged gasps that matched your own. "You're the only one that can make me feel this way," he breathed against your lips, his voice low and husky with desire. The words sent a shiver of pleasure through you, a warmth blooming in your chest at the raw emotion in his voice.

Minho moved to lay between your legs on the couch, his body pressing you into the soft cushions. He slowly ground his hips into you, the friction of his jeans against your thin pajama shorts sending sparks of pleasure through your body. You could feel his arousal pressing against you, hard and insistent, the thick length of him straining against the confines of his jeans. The heat radiating from his body was intoxicating, making your skin tingle with anticipation. "Feel what you do to me?" he growled, his voice a low, gravelly rumble that sent shivers down your spine. His lips brushed against the shell of your ear as he spoke, his warm breath fanning across your sensitive skin. The combination of his husky voice and the feather-light touch of his lips caused a wave of goosebumps to erupt across your flesh, your body responding instinctively to his proximity. The air between you felt charged with electricity, every point of contact between your bodies igniting sparks of desire that threatened to consume you both.

You moaned softly, your hips involuntarily rising to meet his. The friction was delicious, and you could feel yourself getting wetter with each movement. Your hands slid under his shirt, tracing the contours of his muscular back. Minho's eyes darkened with desire as he felt your response, a smirk playing on his lips. He leaned down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and down your neck. "Minho..." you nearly sighed with satisfaction, tilting your head to give him better access. You had missed him, his touches, his kisses, the way he knew exactly how to make you feel good. The cute intimate moments, the way he looked at you with such adoration, just him. Everything about him made your heart race and your body yearn for more.

Minho's fingers began to lift your shirt up, his touch feather-light as they skimmed over the delicate skin of your stomach. Each caress sent electric shivers down your spine, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake. You arched into his touch, your body craving more of his skin against yours. Minho's eyes locked with yours. They held a mixture of hunger and adoration that made your breath catch in your throat. Slowly, tantalizingly, he peeled your shirt off, revealing your body inch by inch to his hungry gaze.

His lips found yours again, passionate and demanding. The kiss was deep and intense, conveying all the emotions that had been building up during your argument. As he pulled away slightly, his forehead resting against yours, Minho whispered breathlessly, "I'm so sorry, baby. I never meant to hurt you. You're everything to me."

His hands explored your newly exposed skin with reverence, tracing the curves of your waist, the dip of your collarbone, the swell of your breasts. Each touch was like a silent apology, gentle yet filled with longing. "I missed you so much," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. "Every moment we were apart felt like torture."

You couldn't help but moan softly into the kiss as he captured your lips once more, the sound swallowed by his eager mouth. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging gently, pulling him closer.

Minho's touch was electric, each caress sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. He trailed kisses along your jaw, pausing at your ear to whisper, "You're the only one for me, Y/N. Always have been, always will be." His words, coupled with the sensation of his warm breath against your skin, sent shivers down your spine.

The tension between you crackled like lightning, intense and irresistible. Yet beneath the passion, there was a tenderness in Minho's actions, a silent promise in every touch and kiss. His hands moved to cup your face, thumbs gently stroking your cheeks as he gazed into your eyes. "I love you," he said softly, his voice filled with sincerity. "More than anything in this world.”

You began to tug at his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the fabric in your eagerness to feel his skin. Sensing your desperation, Minho broke the kiss and sat back on his knees. In one fluid motion, he pulled his shirt off, tossing it aside. Your eyes drank in the sight of him - the chiseled planes of his abdomen, each muscle clearly defined under his smooth skin. The V-line of his hips disappeared temptingly into his jeans, drawing your gaze lower. Your eyes traced the broad expanse of his chest, noting the way his pectoral muscles flexed as he breathed. His shoulders were strong and sculpted, tapering down to his narrow waist. The soft light of the room cast subtle shadows across his torso, accentuating every dip and curve of his well-toned physique. Your gaze traveled up his hard chest to his collarbones, then to his lips, slightly swollen from your kisses, before finally landing on his eyes.

Those eyes you loved so much... Sharp and intense, like polished obsidian catching the light. They held so much emotion when he never wanted to truly show it. His eyes always gave him away, the dark irises a window to his soul. Now they were brimming with desire, love, and a hint of vulnerability, the sharp angles softening as they gazed upon you. The depth of emotion in those piercing orbs was almost overwhelming, drawing you in like a moth to a flame. "Come here," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper as you reached for him. "I need you to touch me." The words were both a plea and a command, laced with all the longing you'd felt during your time apart.

Minho didn't need to be told twice. He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that stole your breath away. His hands roamed your body with renewed fervor, leaving trails of fire in their wake. His touch was a paradox - gentle yet possessive, tender yet demanding. It was a reminder of the passion you shared, a testament to the depth of your connection. As he pressed his body against yours, you could feel the heat radiating between you.

Unable to resist any longer, you lifted your hips, grinding them against his. The friction sent a jolt of pleasure through your body, and you felt Minho gasp into your kiss. His hands moved to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft skin as he pressed you closer, seeking more of that delicious contact. The heat between your legs intensified, a throbbing ache that only Minho could satisfy. His lips left yours, trailing a path of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your neck. Each brush of his lips, each gentle nip of his teeth made you shiver with anticipation, your body trembling beneath him as the pleasure built to an almost unbearable level.

Minho trailed wet kisses down your chest, his lips leaving a path of tingling sensations in their wake. As he reached the valley between your breasts, his fingers delicately hooked under your bra, slowly pulling it up. Your breasts spilled out, and you heard Minho's sharp intake of breath, his eyes darkening with desire at the sight of you.

Without wasting a moment, Minho's mouth descended on one of your nipples, his tongue swirling around the sensitive bud before sucking gently. The sensation sent shockwaves of pleasure through your body, causing you to arch your back, pressing your chest closer to his eager mouth. His free hand cupped your other breast, his thumb mimicking the actions of his tongue as he kneaded the soft flesh.

You couldn't help the soft moan that escaped your lips as Minho's ministrations intensified. He alternated between gentle nips and soothing licks, each action sending jolts of electricity straight to your throbbing clit. The warmth of his mouth contrasted deliciously with the cool air on your exposed skin, heightening every sensation.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, your hips involuntarily grinding against him as you sought more friction. You could feel yourself getting wetter with each passing moment, your arousal building to an almost unbearable level. The slick heat between your legs intensified, your inner walls clenching and unclenching in anticipation. Each brush of his skin against yours sent electric shocks through your body, making your nipples harden to aching points. The air was thick with the musky scent of your combined arousal, heightening your senses and driving you wild with need. You could feel your juices starting to coat your inner thighs, your body preparing itself for the inevitable pleasure to come.

"Y/n, you're so delicious," Minho hummed against your skin, his voice low and husky with desire. His hands moved to your hips, fingers hooking into the waistband of your thin pajama shorts. With tantalizing slowness, he pulled them down along with your panties, his eyes never leaving yours as he revealed more of your body.

Minho's gaze raked over you, his eyes darkening with unbridled desire as they traced every curve and dip of your exposed skin. His fingers, calloused yet gentle, began a tantalizing journey up your inner thighs. The feather-light touches left a trail of goosebumps in their wake, each caress sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your body. You couldn't help but squirm under his intense scrutiny, your breath coming in short, eager gasps.

As his fingers inched higher, the anticipation built to an almost unbearable level. The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity, charged with the intensity of your shared desire. When he finally reached your center, the first brush of his fingers against your wet folds sent a jolt of pleasure through your entire body. You couldn't suppress the loud, breathy gasp that escaped your lips, your back arching involuntarily off the couch, seeking more of his touch.

Minho's fingers explored your folds with agonizing slowness, spreading your wetness and teasing your sensitive flesh. Each stroke of his skilled fingers sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, causing your inner walls to clench with need. The contrast between the cool air of the room and the heat of his touch only heightened your sensitivity, making every caress feel more intense, more exquisite.

You watched, mesmerized, as Minho brought his glistening fingers to his mouth. His tongue darted out, lapping at your essence with deliberate slowness. His eyes fluttered closed in ecstasy as he savored your taste, a low, primal growl rumbling from deep within his chest. "Fuck, you taste divine," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. He sucked his fingers clean, one by one, his cheeks hollowing with each pull. The obscene sight of him relishing your juices sent a jolt of electricity straight to your core. You felt your inner walls clench with need, a fresh wave of arousal coating your already slick folds. The air grew thick with the musky scent of your combined desire, making your head spin with want.

Minho's eyes, now almost black with desire, locked onto yours as he watched you squirm beneath him. Your body ached for his touch, every nerve ending on fire with need. Unable to take the teasing any longer, you reached up to tug at your hardened nipples, your back arching off the couch.

"Please, baby... don't make me wait anymore..." you begged shamelessly, your voice breathy and filled with desperation.

The sight of you touching yourself seemed to snap something in Minho. With swift, almost frantic movements, he shed his pants and boxers, his thick erection springing free. Your eyes widened as you took in the sight of his impressive length, veins prominently visible along the shaft, the swollen head glistening with precum. The sheer size and girth of his cock made your mouth water with anticipation. You barely had time to fully appreciate his magnificent manhood before he was positioning himself between your spread thighs, his rock-hard member throbbing with need.

Without warning, Minho thrust into you in one smooth motion, filling you completely. The sudden fullness had you gasping, your walls clenching around him as pleasure coursed through your body. Minho groaned, his forehead coming to rest against yours as he savored the feeling of being inside you.

"God, you feel amazing," he breathed, his voice husky and strained with the effort of holding still. You could feel him pulsing inside you, his thick shaft stretching your walls deliciously. Every throb of his cock sent jolts of pleasure through your core, making your inner muscles flutter involuntarily. The heat of his body pressed against yours, his musky scent filling your nostrils as you adjusted to his impressive size. The fullness was almost overwhelming, a delicious burn that teetered on the edge of pleasure and pain. You could feel every vein, every ridge of his length as it pulsed within you, your slick walls gripping him tightly. The intimacy of the moment was intoxicating, your bodies connected in the most primal way possible.

After a moment that felt like an eternity, Minho began to move. He started with slow, deep thrusts that had you gasping with each movement. His hands gripped your hips, pulling you closer as he drove deeper into you. The drag of his length against your sensitive walls was exquisite, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, your heels digging into the small of his back as you urged him deeper. Your nails raked down his spine, leaving angry red trails in their wake. The sharp sting of your nails contrasted exquisitely with the pleasure coursing through your bodies, drawing a low, primal growl from Minho's throat.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as another wave of pleasure washed over you. The slight pain seemed to ignite something within Minho, his hips snapping forward with increased fervor. You could feel every inch of him as he drove into you, your inner walls fluttering and clenching around his thick length.

The room filled with the sounds of your passion - skin against skin, breathless moans, and the creaking of the couch beneath you. Minho's pace quickened, his thrusts becoming more erratic as he felt you tighten around him. The delicious friction was almost too much to bear, pushing you both closer to the edge with each powerful movement.

"Fuck, Y/n," Minho groaned, his voice rough with pleasure, the deep timbre sending shivers down your spine. "You're so perfect, so beautiful." His eyes, dark with desire, locked onto yours, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat. His thrusts became more powerful, each movement driving him deeper into you, the delicious friction sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room, a primal rhythm punctuated by your combined moans and gasps. The couch creaked beneath you with the force of his movements, the sturdy frame protesting against the intensity of your lovemaking. But neither of you paid it any mind, lost in the overwhelming sensations of your bodies moving together in perfect synchrony. "I love you so much," he whispered, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps erupting across your skin. The tenderness in his voice contrasted beautifully with the passionate fervor of his movements.

You could feel the familiar coil of pleasure tightening in your lower abdomen, each of Minho's thrusts bringing you closer to the edge. Your walls clenched around him rhythmically, your body instinctively trying to pull him deeper. Minho's breathing became more labored, his movements more erratic, signaling that he too was nearing his peak.

The room was filled with a symphony of passionate sounds - your breathless whimpers, Minho's deep groans, and the obscene squelch of his cock plunging into your dripping core. The air was thick with the heady scent of your combined arousal. Minho's thrusts became more frantic, his hips snapping against yours with increasing urgency as he chased his release. You could feel the delicious tension building within you, your inner walls fluttering around his thick length with each powerful thrust. "I'm so close, baby," you mewled, your voice high and needy. Your fingers tangled in his sweat-dampened hair, nails scraping his scalp as you pulled him down for a searing kiss, your tongues battling for dominance as the pleasure mounted.

Minho responded by deepening the kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he increased the intensity of his thrusts. "Come for me, baby," he growled against your lips, his hand sneaking between your bodies to rub circles on your clit. The added stimulation was all you needed, and you felt yourself tumbling over the edge, crying out Minho's name as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

Your orgasm triggered Minho's own release, and he thrust into you deeply, groaning your name as he spilled inside you. You both trembled with the intensity of your climaxes, clinging to each other as the waves of pleasure slowly subsided. As your breathing steadied, you could feel the warm mixture of your combined fluids leaking out, coating Minho's balls and trickling down onto the couch beneath you. Minho peppered your face with soft kisses, murmuring words of love and apology against your skin. "I'm so so sorry, never again will I let this happen," he said softly as he laid his head on your chest, and you ran your fingers through his thick, sweat-dampened hair as you both tried to catch your breath.

Taglist:

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wlntrsldler · 8 months ago

Text

poisoned mercury | damned if i do ya (damned if i don't)

a/n: oooohhhh i love them bad. the slow burn is slow burning a little bit. btw the song is daylight by 5sos!

series masterlist | previous | next

v. damned if i do ya (damned if i don't) by all time low

all the progress luke thought he was making with you was thrown out the window after the concert. at first, he was glad to have some distance between you guys. he was dealing with sorting out what he felt for you. it was stupid, really, how he realized that you reminded him a lot of his childhood nickelodeon crush, but the more he thought about it, the more he realized that it was more than that.

sure, you were a fucking headache sometimes, but he liked it. he liked you. he liked how you always tore him a new one, made him feel normal, like he wasn’t luke castellan – lead singer of poisoned mercury, he was just luke when he was with you. you asked him about his music, his life, but knew when to stop right before the conversation got too heavy because you understood him. you knew how he felt even when he didn’t say it.

maybe he’d just been around his bandmates too much, teenage boys with emotional iqs of a thumbtack, but you took one look at him and he knew that you understood what he was feeling. as great of a writer he was when it came to music, he was never good with expressing how he felt.

but now, it’s been weeks since you last talked to him, like really talked to him. whenever he’d see you in your smoke spot, he’d try to start a conversation, but you’d stuff your vape in your pocket and walk away before he could even say hi. you stopped going to the gym in the morning, often coming into the cabin after your workout during random times of the day, no longer following a set schedule. you rarely hung out with the boys, opting to retire into your room earlier than usual. you still joined clarisse during her counselor duties, but she stopped letting the boys tag along when luke was available as much as she used to. she’d offer an apologetic smile to luke and slip out an excuse why he couldn’t join for music lessons.

luke was tired of it. he didn’t know what went wrong, what he did wrong, to make you act so cold towards him. even when you didn’t know him yet, you were never like this. you always had a snide remark ready for him, but now, he was met with silence.

on the bright side, he at least had inspiration to write new songs.

he wandered into the cabin, thinking that it would be empty. clarisse was being held hostage at arts and crafts again. (she complained the whole morning about it until chris offered to join her so she wouldn’t be the only one covered in glitter this time.) the stolls were in the studio recording the instrumentals for the song luke showed them a few days ago. they’d asked him who the song was about, though he had a feeling they already knew. he wasn’t really trying to be secretive with the words. and you, luke could only wonder where you were.

he stopped in his tracks at the sound of mr. d’s voice in your room. your bedroom door was wide open and luke feared that you’d see him so he hid around the corner, back pressed against the wall.

“this is serious, kid,” mr. d yelled. “your teammate is pressing charges so i need the full story! i don’t care if you don’t want to talk about it. this can go on your record permanently.”

“so let it!” you screamed back. luke heard you pacing around your room, heavy steps against the cabin floors. “i don’t care.”

“i care! i’ve been pretty goddamn lenient when it comes to you, y/n, but this?” mr. d countered, veins on his neck bulging out as he raised his voice. luke had never seen him like this, “this is fucking serious. you need to tell me exactly what happened.”

“she was talking about you, okay?” you sobbed. you sat on your bed, hands buried in your open palms. “she said something about your addiction. i don’t fucking know how she found out, but she said something and i just lost it, dad. she was talking out her ass and i just needed her to shut up because she didn’t know what the fuck she was talking about.”

mr. d’s tongue poked the inside of his cheek. he gulped, not saying a word. your dad looked at the decorated wall of your bedroom, polaroids of you and your friends, your framed high school field hockey jersey, and the concert ticket from the first show he ever took you to. he looked down at the pink rug on your floor, unable to say anything.

you looked up at him, eyes brimmed with tears, “there, i told you. happy now?”

it wasn’t long before mr. d stormed out of the cabin. luke flinched as the door slammed shut behind him. he heard you sobbing in your bedroom and he contemplated approaching you. you were already mad at him, for a reason that he still didn’t know, so what the hell?

with a deep breath, luke emerged from the corner and walked towards your door. his knuckles softly knocked on the open door. you looked up at the noise, rubbing your eyes with your forearm. you chewed on your bottom lip, “not in the mood to argue, castellan.”

“not here to argue,” he stood under your door frame, leaning against the side. “i’m here to see if you’re okay.”

you had this habit of running away from things when you knew it had the power to hurt you. it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism, but your fight or flight response was triggered every time you started catching feelings for someone. it didn’t happen often, you developing actual feelings for people. you developed crushes, sure, but not feelings.

you didn’t get googly-eyed and love-dumb with guys. you knew better– growing up with a dad who could quite literally transform people’s lives with a snap of his finger made you hyperaware of people’s intentions with you. but sometimes, you get blinded by the guy who sweeps you off your feet and you forget about it all.

after the concert, you couldn’t stop thinking about luke. you already knew what kind of person he actually was, kind, caring, talented, all of the above, but there was still a nagging voice in your head telling you: “what if this is all an act?” “what if this is his move? pretending to be a different guy from the tabloids just to get you to fall for him then break your heart like everyone else did?” so you fled. you ran away from luke.

clarisse caught onto you avoiding luke fairly quickly. she no longer saw you two walking into the cabin together in the early mornings when she was getting ready for the day. you started declining invitations to hang out at the activities center, stopped having time to help her with music lessons when the band was tagging along, and started hanging out with her in your room instead of the common space.

she asked you about it after a week of the same thing. you told her you just weren’t in the mood, lacked energy. you said a million excuses but she could see right through you. you and the lead singer weren’t really subtle with your longing glances.

you crossed your legs under you, pulling the blanket up to cover your legs. you moved over on your bed, tilting your head to let him inside. luke took his shoes off and closed the door behind him, sock-clad feet tapping against the wooden floors. he sat on the edge of your bed, playing with the stray thread on your blanket.

“you ever feel like your parents wish they had a different kid?” you whispered, “maybe a kid that wasn’t so difficult?”

“all the time,” luke replied, “every time my name is in the tabloids, i swear it takes years off my mom’s life.”

you laughed, sniffling, “you need to take it easy on your mom. she’s too good for this world.”

“that she is,” he leaned back on his elbows, resting his head on his shoulder. he tapped your leg under the blanket, “you know your dad loves you, right?”

“yeah,” you sighed, looking at luke. your makeup was smudged under your eyes and it took all his power not to lean over to wipe it away. you hunched your shoulders over when you spoke again, “just feels like sometimes i’m too much for him and i don’t know how to stop doing that.”

“i don’t think you should.”

it was the truth. you dealt in extremes. you were intense but it was only because you were passionate about things. he’d seen you practicing for hours, staying up late to help the younger kids with their projects even if it wasn’t your job, bossing people around to make sure that the camp activities were perfect. when you put your mind to something, luke knew there was no stopping you.

“so i’m guessing you heard that whole thing with my dad?”

“yeah,” luke rubbed the back of his neck. he looked at you, feeling caught that he’d been listening in on your private conversation. “i didn’t know anyone was in here when i walked in.”

“it’s fine,” you shrugged, “pretty sure the whole camp heard my dad yelling anyways.”

he laughed, “probably. i’d never seen him like that before. he’s usually so chill. it kinda caught me off guard.”

“me too.”

“it’s not as bad as when my mom yells at me though,” luke offered, trying to lighten the mood. he grinned when he saw your eyes brighten. you never did pass up the opportunity to have luke embarrass himself. if he could stop you from crying, he would lay out all his embarrassing stories in front of you for your listening pleasure. “the time she found out that me and trav got banned from wichita, like the whole city, she got so mad that the hotel we were staying at kicked us out because there were so many noise complaints. had to sleep on the bus. my back was killing me the entire time we were playing a show the next day.”

“what the fuck did you guys do that warranted a ban from the whole city?”

luke’s cheeks turned pink, “we mooned a cop car.”

you bursted into uncontrollable laughter, falling back on your pillows. luke watched you, laughing along at your reaction. you were crying again, but it was a good cry this time. luke thought you looked pretty like this; cheeks red, eyes shut as you tried to regain your composure, and smiling, all teeth and lips. he hadn’t seen it in a while and he wanted to take a picture of you right now just so he could always remember how you looked at this moment. he wasn’t sure if he could survive another few weeks without seeing it again.

luke nudged you as your laughter died down, “if shit goes down with your teammate, there will be three of us with a permanent record in this cabin.”

you smiled at him, sadly, voice returning to the hushed tone you used earlier, “you think my dad could forgive me for this?”

“don’t think anyone could hold a grudge against you even if they tried, five star,” luke placed a hand on your thigh covered by the blanket. he relished in the feeling of the hand you placed over his own. it felt intimate. “what does your mom think about all of this?”

“i dunno,” you played with the rings on his hand, twisting the silver metals on his fingers, “i haven’t talked to her about it yet. been avoiding her calls.”

“well, happy to know that i wasn’t the only one getting the silent treatment,” he teased, no bite to his voice. “shit, five star, even with your punishments, you still manage to not make me feel special.”

you squeezed his hand, a giggle escaping your lips, “shut up.”

luke looked at you, “you should probably talk to her soon.”

“i will,” you nodded, meeting his gaze, “soon.”

the two of you stayed there in silence, you playing with his rings and the bracelets on his arm. you were so enamored by the silver jewelry on his hand, twirling his rings to read each engraving, looking at each design, humming in appreciation. you looked at the camp half blood bracelet on his wrist, recognizing the beads on the string.

“i can’t believe you got a camp bracelet before i did this summer,” you huffed, admiring the beads. “i’ve been here longer than you and nobody made me one yet.”

“a little girl made it for me,” luke said, smiling at the memory. “i helped her with her with the production of the song for her summer project and she made it for me.”

“i didn’t know you also produced music.” luke castellan continued to surprise you.

“not well,” he replied. “just the basics, but i like to think i helped her out. annabeth— you know her? the kid with perfect pitch. fucking brilliant. smarter than i was at her age.”

“i love beth. i’m pretty sure she’s the smartest 12-year-old to ever exist,” your eyes twinkled, moving your index finger to his own, “what’s the story with this one?”

luke looked down at the ring you were touching. it was the silver ring he bought for himself using his first paycheck from their album sales. it cost him a pretty penny, but it was worth it. the font was tiny, but he memorized the words.

“aγάπη χωρίς πείσματα δεν έχει νοστιμάδα,” luke said, no doubt butchering the pronunciation. “it’s greek. my mom used to read greek proverbs to me as a child. i think she hoped i’d become the next great philosopher, but instead i became a musician. this phrase stuck with me.”

“what does it mean?”

“love without a bit of stubbornness isn’t tasteful,” he whispered, “it’s a little reminder to myself that even though i can be difficult as shit sometimes, i’m worth it.”

luke cleared his throat, “had a tough time when we first got big. i’m sure you’ve heard of some stories. there was a time when me and my mom didn’t talk much. i thought i knew what was best and i pushed her away. i was so stubborn, five star.”

“my dad left when i was a kid and for second, i thought i would lose my mom too,” he shook his head, the bitter taste of regret in his mouth as he recalled those memories. “im glad i didn’t. this ring reminds me that no matter how stubborn i am, i still deserve love, y’know? maybe it’s stupid, but sometimes i doubt it. mom always told me that love isn’t supposed to be easy, but it’s supposed to always be worth it– worth all the trouble, the stubbornness, the hurt, so this little phrase keeps me grounded in a weird way.”

“worth it to an extent,” you said. there was something hidden in your words like you were somehow asking him if you fell within the extent of it being worth it. it was in the look in your eye, doubt and worry that maybe you pushed it too far this time and you were no longer worth the fight.

“extent is subjective. i know my mom thinks i’m worth it. i know that no matter how much me and the stolls get into fights, our friendship is worth it. i know that even though me and chris grew up to be different people, our bond is worth it,” luke leaned in closer as if he was going to tell you a secret, something that stays between you and him, only allowed to be spoken within the walls of your room. “and you, five star–”

he couldn’t finish his sentence. his words got caught in his throat. he was afraid that if he kept talking, he wouldn’t be able to stop. he didn’t know if there was a universe out there where fighting for you wouldn’t be worth it. had you been thinking about him all this time you’d been apart? have your thoughts been plagued by the idea of him? all he could think of was you. all his songs were about you. it seemed like everything had been about you since he met you.

is it too much too soon to even say things like that? luke didn’t know where you stood, if you even felt the same way about him as he did about you. how evil must the world be to have you exist in his orbit but not allow him to fight for you?

the corner of your lips lifted a tiny bit and luke knew he didn’t need to say anything else. you understood.

luke wanted to stop you when you removed your hand from his, but he didn’t want to test his luck. you dug through the drawer by your bed, pulling out the familiar vape, “i could really go for a smoke right now but this stupid thing died.”

an idea popped into luke’s mind. he got up, motioning for you to do the same. you stayed seated on your bed, eyebrow raised in concern.

“come on,” luke sighed, playfully rolling his eyes when you still refused to get up. he held out his hand, looking down at you. “you trust me?”

you glanced at him then at his hand, deciding. it felt like a loaded question, like he was asking about something more than if you’d go with him to whatever adventure he had planned for the both of you. his heart hammered in his chest as he waited for your answer. you didn’t say anything to his question, unsure if you could rationalize your decision, but when you laced your fingers with his, luke didn’t let go of your hand until you were both out of the campgrounds.

#frances writes #poisoned mercury #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan fanfic #luke pjo #luke castellan #luke castellan pjo #luke castellan fic #luke castellan x yn #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #percy jackson #percy jackson fanfic #pjo fanfic

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hoshifighting · 4 months ago

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so I had this idea about switch!joshua

idk why but I kinda have this fantasy in my head about Joshua and his partner having a power play during sex. they keep tryna a dom each other but they also enjoy being each others sub yk

could you write sth like this? I would love to read it :]

— Synopsis: You and Joshua both have strong personalities, resulting in power play whenever you're having sex. It's like witnessing a battle to see who can assert their dominance over the other. — WC: 2k — WARNINGS: Smut, power play, switch!reader&joshua, bickering, overstimulation, sex toys - (vibrator, handcuffs, blindfold), bondage, sensory deprivation, penetrative sex, degradation, clit stimulation, choking, face slapping, the fight for power.

the first time you met joshua, it was like striking a match in a room filled with gasoline. his confident, almost arrogant smile was mirrored by your own stubborn determination. you could tell right away that this was a man who was used to being in control, someone who thrived on dominance. and, ironically, that was the exact reason you were drawn to him.

you never asked about joshua’s past relationships. honestly, you didn’t want to know. you liked the mystery, the untold stories that lingered in his eyes. but one thing was clear: you were the first to challenge him, to refuse to let him take the lead without a fight.

the first time you had sex, it was a battle. every touch was a negotiation, every kiss a test of wills.

joshua, so accustomed to being the dominant force, found himself facing someone who was just as strong, just as determined. it took him a while to process it, to wrap his mind around the idea that he wasn’t the only one in control.

afterward, you lay next to each other, breathless and sweaty. the silence was heavy with unspoken words. finally, joshua turned to you, his eyes searching yours.

“so,” he began, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, “this is new.”

you laughed, a light, airy sound that filled the room. “you didn’t think i’d just roll over and let you take charge, did you?”

“i was hoping,” he admitted, his smile widening. “but i guess i should’ve known better.”

today was one of those days where neither of you was willing to give up control. joshua’s hands were cuffed above his head, muscles straining against the restraints as you teased his swollen cock with a feather. his abdomen tightened with every agonizing brush, and his frustrated moans echoed through the room.

“you’re enjoying this way too much,” he groaned, his voice tinged with a compound of irritation and arousal. outside these four walls, joshua was a sweetheart, but here, he was your plaything.

you got up to retrieve a vibrator from your drawer, enjoying the sight of him writhing, desperate for more. the moment you turned your back, you heard the click of the handcuffs. spinning around, you saw joshua ripping the blindfold from his face, with a dark grimace.

“oh, fuck,” you muttered, knowing you were in trouble as he strode toward you with large, purposeful steps.

he wrapped his arms around you from behind, pressing you against the dresser and pinning your arms to your chest. “you don’t think you’ve teased me enough?” he growled through gritted teeth, his breath hot against your ear.

“you can’t handle a little feather?” you taunted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. “poor baby.”

joshua’s response was a low, dangerous growl. he yanked your head back by your hair, forcing your neck to arch painfully. “you like pushing me, don’t you?” he snarled. “you’re nothing but a slut who loves to be put in her place.”

you grunted at the sharp pain, feeling his cock slide inside you all at once. your legs threatened to give out, but joshua held you steady. “steady yourself, slut,” he commanded, his voice harsh and unyielding.

you had no choice but to comply. one hand escaped to brace yourself on the dresser, your moans strangled by the way he pulled your hair. despite your frustration at his breaking the rules, you couldn’t deny how much you loved being railed by him, being his pathetic slut. just as much as he loved being your toy when you needed it.

he pressed himself deeper, your balance faltering as your chest hit the dresser. the vibrator in your hand buzzed to life, and you cursed yourself for letting it slip. joshua paused, the sound catching his attention.

“well, well,” he teased, taking the vibrator from you. “look at you, thinking you could use this on me. what a desperate little whore you are.”

he turned the vibrator to its highest setting, the buzz loud and threatening. “no,” you pleaded, shaking your head. “please, joshua—”

“you don’t get to beg,” he interrupted, his voice dripping with disdain. “you’re just a slut who takes what she’s given.”

his cock stretched you, the burn from your unpreparedness mixing with the relentless throb of your heartbeat. when joshua turned the vibrator to its maximum setting, you gulped, knowing exactly where he intended to place it. your eyes widened in panic.

he lowered the buzzing device until it reached your clit, and you screamed, grabbing his forearm, your nails sinking painfully into his skin. the intense pleasure made him groan, your tightness around his cock almost causing him to lose his balance.

your clit felt like it was on fire, tears springing to your eyes. joshua started to move, thrusting into you with a new fervor, amplifying the overwhelming sensations. another scream tore from your throat as you whimpered, "josh, josh..."

as joshua's grip on your arm loosened, you felt your body slowly disassembling against the dresser. each movement seemed to send new shocks of sensation through you, your heightened sensitivity turning every touch into an electric charge. joshua didn’t seem to notice your extra-sensitive state, his focus entirely on his own pleasure.

you were torn, debating whether to let the knot inside you unravel and risk overstimulation or try to hold back and risk edging yourself too much. but as you wrestled with your thoughts, the decision was made for you. you felt the wave cresting, and with a sob, you realized you were cumming.

your sobs echoed off the furniture, a raw sound that combined with the rhythmic slap of joshua’s thrusts. his cock split you open, and you felt yourself dripping onto the wooden floor, the vibrator splashing the proof of your orgasm everywhere.

he resumed his thrusts, slower now, more calculated, each stir developed to push you further into overstimulation. the vibrator’s relentless buzz against your clit was torture, and you cried out, your body fluttering with the power of it all.

“please,” you begged, your voice breaking. “i can’t… i can’t take it.”

joshua leaned down, his breath hot against your ear. “oh, but you will,” he whispered. “you’ll take it, and you’ll love it, won’t you?”

you sobbed, your body betraying you as another wave of pleasure crashed over you, your legs buckling. “joshua, please…”

his grip on your hips tightened, and he pushed deeper, hitting that spot that made you see stars. “you’re such a good girl,” he taunted. “look at you, falling apart just for me.”

your nails scraped against the wood of the dresser, leaving marks as you clung to it for support. “i’m… i’m cumming again,” you gasped, tears streaming down your face.

“good,” he growled, thrusting harder. “cum for me, show me how much you love it.”

your body obeyed, another orgasm ripping through you, leaving you a trembling, sobbing mess.

everything started to feel like too much—the relentless vibrator, joshua’s tight embrace, his cock buried deep inside you, his overwhelming presence. it was suffocating, and in a moment of clarity through the haze of overstimulation, you felt a surge of strength. you needed to take charge.

your spasms gave you the energy to pry his forearm away, sending the vibrator flying across the room. it stopped buzzing the moment it hit the ground, and you didn’t care if it was broken. you turned joshua around, pushing him onto the bed and straddling him, your hand finding his throat. you pressed your fingers into either side of his neck, watching his breath hitch and his eyes widen in surprise and pleasure.

a nasty smile spread across his face, taunting you. you slapped him hard, his head snapping to the side. when he turned back to face you, his grin was even wider.

you knew. he loved it when you lost control, when you took what you wanted. this was how the two of you thrived—fire and fire, clashing and igniting.

“you think this is funny?” you hissed, your voice low and dangerous. “i’m going to wipe that grin off your face.”

joshua’s eyes gleamed with excitement. “is that so?” he taunted, his voice rough with anticipation.

you tightened your grip on his throat, leaning in close. “you’re going to beg for mercy,” you whispered fiercely. “i’m going to ruin you.”

his breath hitched again, his smile faltering slightly. “do your worst,” he challenged, his voice barely above a whisper.

you didn’t need another invitation.

you moved with intent, your hand slipping from his throat to his jaw, forcing him to look up at you. your other hand trailed down his chest, nails scraping lightly, leaving red lines in their wake. joshua’s breathing grew ragged, his eyes never leaving yours.

“you like this, don’t you?” you murmured, your fingers tracing patterns on his skin. “being at my mercy?”

“yes,” he gasped, his voice strained. “i love it.”

you leaned down, your lips brushing against his ear. “good,” you whispered. “because i’m just getting started.”

you shifted your hips, taking him inside you again, but this time you were in control. you rode him with an enthusiasm that surprised even you.

you set the pace, slow and willful, driving him wild with every move. joshua’s hands gripped the sheets, his knuckles white with the effort to keep still.

his hands gripped your hips, trying to match your rhythm, but you swatted them away.

“no touching,” you commanded. “you don’t get to touch until i say so.”

he groaned in frustration, his head pressing back into the mattress. “please,” he begged, his voice strained. “let me touch you.”

you leaned down, your lips hovering over his. “not yet,” you murmured. “not until i see that smile disappear.”

you increased your pace, your movements becoming more inconsistent, more desperate. his face contorted with pleasure, his cock twitching inside you. you knew he was close, and you wanted to push him over the border.

“beg for it,” you commanded, your voice firm.

“please,” he moaned, his hips bucking up involuntarily. “please, y/n.”

you slapped him again, the sound echoing in the room. “louder,” you demanded.

“please!” he cried out, his voice desperate. “please, i need it.”

a triumphant smile spread across your face. “that’s better,” you purred, increasing your pace, your movements more forceful. “you’re mine, joshua. all mine.”

“yes,” he panted, his eyes wild with submission. “all yours.”

you felt the power surge through you, the thrill of being in control. joshua’s moans filled the room, his body trembling beneath you. you rode him harder, pushing him to the edge, watching as his composure crumbled.

“cum for me,” you ordered, “now.”

with a final, desperate cry, joshua followed, his body convulsing as he came. you watched him, your eyes never leaving his, taking in every moment of his surrender.

joshua doesn't know exactly how much time he spends trying to catch his breath with his eyes closed. how do you do this? he had you overstimulated, railing you on the dresser, yet somehow you still ended up defeating him on the bed.

every. single. time, he was amazed. amazed by how much of a freak you were, and how much he loved being your sub

he's pulled out of his thoughts when you emerge from the bathroom, a towel wrapped around you. your skin is still damp, and you leave a faint trail of steam in your wake. you glance at him, still sprawled out on the bed in the same position you left him.

"i've won this time too?" you tease, a playful glint in your eye.

joshua opens his eyes and watches you walk, noticing the funny, slightly limping gait you have now. he scoffs, a smirk playing on his lips. "do you think so?"

you pause, one hand on your hip, and arch an eyebrow. "well, i did end up on top, didn’t i?"

he laughs softly, the sound rumbling from deep in his chest. "only because i let you."

"sure, keep telling yourself that," you retort, walking over to the bed.

he props himself up on his elbows, his eyes never leaving you. “and you’re barely able to walk straight. who’s the real winner here?”

“still me,” you say, leaning down to kiss him lightly on the lips. “because i always end up on top.”

"you know," he murmurs, "one of these days, i'm going to turn the tables on you."

you scoff, nestling against him, your fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest. "i'd like to see you try."

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sonamytrash · 2 months ago

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I Aim To Please.

Plumber Toji Fushiguro.

Porn trope Toji series, part 2 🖤

Part one here 🖤

Warnings: Smut, Plumber Toji x Fem!Reader, P in V, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding k!nk, pregnancy k!ink, no foreplay, Toji Fushiguro has a big dick, not proof read, trashy porno storyline, I don't know anything about plumbing, anything I learned about plumbing for the sake of this fic was through porn, reader you're a slut.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

It was a quiet Friday afternoon, and you had the weekend to yourself—or so you thought. You had finished work early, arriving back at your apartment having scheduled a plumber this afternoon.

The soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional chirp of a bird outside were the only sounds that filled the air. You felt a sense of calm wash over you as you slipped off your shoes and work attire, donning a baggy t-shirt and shorts before walking into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. The apartment was your sanctuary, a place where you could unwind from the stresses of the week. But, as you filled the kettle, you were reminded of the persistent drip from the sink that had been driving you crazy for days.

You had tried to fix it yourself, watching YouTube tutorials and armed with a wrench, but it was clear that your DIY skills had their limits. That's why you called in the cavalry—Toji Fushiguro, the plumber with a reputation for getting the job done swiftly and efficiently.

Just as you finished making your drink, the doorbell rang, and you took a deep breath to compose yourself before opening the door. There he was, tall and broad-shouldered, with a tool belt slung low on his hips. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, and his eyes, a piercing shade of brown, met yours with a professional yet alluring gaze. "Hi, I'm Toji," he said, flashing a smile that made your knees wobble just a bit. "You got trouble with a tap, sweetheart?"

You nod, stepping aside to let him in, trying not to stare too long at the way his muscles moved under his tight-fitting t-shirt. "Thank you for coming," you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. As he passed, you caught a whiff of his aftershave—a faint scent of pine and mint that sent a shiver down your spine. "The problem's in the kitchen."

Toji nodded and followed you, his heavy boots echoing in the hallway. Once in the kitchen, he set down his toolbox and surveyed the situation. You pointed to the sink, feeling a bit self-conscious in your oversized t-shirt and shorts. "It's been doing that for a while now," you said, gesturing to the slow, maddening drip.

He leaned over, his muscular arm brushing against your side, and you felt an unexpected jolt of attraction. His closeness made the air feel thick and charged. He turned the faucet on and off again before he began to inspect the pipes under the sink. You couldn't help but watch the play of muscles across his back, the way his biceps flexed with each movement.

"Looks like it's just a loose washer," he said, his voice deep and reassuring. "It's an easy fix."

You leaned against the counter, sipping your tea as you watched him work. Truthfully you would usually leave workmen to their own devices, but it seemed a shame to miss out on the view. The way he moved with such confidence, his hands sure and capable, was surprisingly arousing. You felt your cheeks flush as you remembered the last time you had been intimate with someone—it had been months, and it was definitely not this handsome.

As he knelt, reaching into the cabinets, his pants tightened around his thighs, and you couldn't help but imagine what lay beneath them. He looked up at you, his gaze lingering a moment longer than necessary, and you knew he wasn't oblivious to the tension in the room.

Toji removed the faulty washer with ease, and the silence that followed was deafening. The air between you crackled with unspoken desires. "It's fixed," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to resonate through your entire body. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and intense. "But it's going to take a few minutes to let the water pressure settle."

You nodded, your eyes lingering on his full lips. He took a step closer, and before you knew it, he had set his tools aside and was standing right in front of you. The heat from his body was palpable, and you could feel his breath on your skin. "Is there anything else I can help you with?" he asked, his voice a seductive whisper.

The question hung in the air, loaded with meaning, and you knew that he wasn't just referring to the plumbing.

Your heart raced as you set your tea down, the porcelain clinking against the counter. "I don't know," you replied coyly, your voice barely above a whisper. "What did you have in mind?"

Toji's smile grew into a smirk, his eyes traveling over your body with a hunger that sent a thrill of excitement through you. He took another step closer, and you could feel the warmth of his body against your legs.

"Well," he said, his voice dropping an octave, "I've got a few... tools that might be of use to you."

You felt a shiver of anticipation run down your spine as he reached out and lightly brushed your thigh with the back of his hand. His touch was like a spark that ignited a fire within you, and suddenly all you could think about was the heat of his body against yours.

"Maybe you could show me?" you offered, your voice breathy and hopeful.

Toji's smirk grew into a full-blown grin as he reached out and gently tugged on the hem of your shirt. "I'd be happy to, princess. " he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

You took a step closer, feeling the heat from his body, and the air between you grew electric. The flirting was no longer subtle. You bit your bottom lip, and he took it as the invitation it was. His hand traveled up your side, his thumb grazing the curve of your waist, and your breath hitched.

Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled you closer. His lips found yours in a kiss that was rough, his tongue demanding entry as he tasted you. You responded eagerly, your arms wrapping around his neck as you gave in to the lust that had been building since the moment he had arrived.

You could feel the fabric of your t-shirt stretching tightly across your breasts as he cupped them, his thumbs brushing against your hardened nipples through the thin material. A moan escaped your lips, and he took it as an invitation to deepen the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before he sucked it into his mouth.

His hands traveled up to the hem of your shirt and with a swift tug, he lifted it over your head, revealing your lacy bra. He took a moment to appreciate the sight before unclipping it and letting your breasts spill into his waiting hands. His rough fingers tweaked and pinched your sensitive flesh, sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

You reached down and unbuckled his tool belt, letting it clatter to the floor. Your hands worked on the button of his pants, and when they were open, you slid them down to expose his boxers, the outline of his substantial erection straining against the fabric. Toji stepped out of his boots and shed his pants, leaving him in just his underwear, which he quickly discarded.

He lifted you onto the counter, the cold marble a stark contrast to the heat of his skin. His hands roamed over your bare thighs, making you gasp as he pushed aside your shorts and panties. The tip of his finger traced the wetness of your sex, and you bucked your hips in response, desperate for more.

"You're so fucking wet for me, already?" Toji teased, his breath hot against your neck.

You bit your lip and nodded, unable to form coherent words. "Mmhmm," you managed, your voice a breathy purr.

Toji chuckled darkly, his eyes gleaming with desire. "I want to hear you say it," he demanded, his hand sliding up your inner thigh. "Tell me how much you want me."

You looked into his eyes, feeling a rush of boldness. "I want you," you whispered, your voice a seductive purr. "I want you to fuck me."

Toji's eyes darkened at your words, and his grip on your thighs tightened. "Is that right?" he said, his voice a gruff challenge. "You want this rough plumber to pound you like you're his personal fuck toy?"

You felt a thrill of excitement at his crude language, nodding eagerly. "Yes," you breathed, your voice thick with need. "I want you to use me."

Toji's eyes narrowed, his grip on your thighs tightening. "You're going to get exactly what you ask for, sweetheart," he growled, his voice full of promise. He stepped closer, the head of his cock nudging against your wet folds.

You could feel the head of his erection pressing against you, and you were still surprised by how big he was. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for the feeling of being filled, but Toji didn't rush. He took his time, rubbing the length of his cock against your wetness, building the anticipation.

When he finally entered you, it was slow and deliberate, stretching you with a delicious burn that made you gasp, considering you had no prep from his fingers, it was no suprise that there was a stong to accompany the intrusion of his cock. He didn't stop until he was all the way in, his hips flush against yours. You could feel every inch of him, and it was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"You're so tight," he groaned, his eyes squeezed shut as he took a moment to adjust to the snug fit. You felt your body quiver around him as he began to move, his hips rocking into yours with a force that made the countertop creak.

The sensation of his huge cock filling you was almost overwhelming. It stretched you to the point of pain, but the pleasure quickly overtook any discomfort. You had never felt so full, so claimed. His movements grew more urgent, each thrust hitting a spot deep within you that had you crying out his name.

"Fuck, you're taking me so well," he grunted, his eyes locked onto yours. "You're made for this, aren't you?" His dirty talk only served to heighten your arousal, making you wetter and more eager for his rough, unbridled passion. "You're greedy cunt is taking all of me, every inch," he continued, his voice gruff with desire.

You whimpered, biting your bottom lip as he began to move faster, his hips pistoning into you with a relentless rhythm that had you clutching at his shoulders.

Toji's eyes were blazed with lust, "You like it rough, don't you?" he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. "I could tell as soon as I saw you, that you like being pounded like the slut you are."

You couldn't deny it, and you found yourself moaning back, "Yes, yes, I do." Your voice was shaky, your body trembling with every impact. "Fuck me harder, Toji," you begged, feeling the edge of an orgasm approaching.

"That's it, take it," he grunted, his hips smacking against yours with each punishing thrust. "You're such a good little whore for me, aren't you?"

The words sent a thrill through you, and you found yourself responding in kind. "Yes! Yes, I am," you moaned, the dirty talk adding a delicious edge to the already intense experience. "Fuck me like you own me, Toji. Make me cum!"

Toji's pace didn't let up, his eyes locked on yours as he pounded into you. You could feel your body tightening around him, the beginnings of another orgasm building. The way he talked to you, the way he used you, it was all so new, so raw, and it was intoxicating.

"I'm going to fill you up," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear. "I'm going to breed you right here on this kitchen counter."

You gasped, the shock of his words mixing with the pleasure coursing through your body. The idea of him impregnating you was both terrifying and thrilling, a taboo fantasy that had you clutching at him even tighter. "Do it," you moaned, your voice barely a whisper. "I want to feel your cum inside me."

Toji's eyes lit up at your response, his strokes growing more erratic as he approached his climax. He leaned in closer, his teeth grazing your earlobe as he whispered, "You're going to get pregnant with my baby, aren't you?"

The thought of his seed filling you up, his child growing inside you, sent a fresh wave of desire crashing through your body. "Oh God, yes," you moaned, your nails digging into his back. The idea of being filled with his essence was too much to handle, and with one final, powerful thrust, you felt your body give way. You squirted everywhere, your juices spraying out around his cock and coating the counter beneath you. The intensity of the sensation was like nothing you had ever felt before, and you screamed out his name as your muscles clenched around him.

Toji grunted with pleasure, his eyes locked onto yours as he continued to pump into you. You could see the effort in his face, the way his jaw was clenched and his muscles bulged with the effort of holding back. "Atta girl, make a mess on my cock," he murmured, his voice thick with lust.

Your orgasm seemed to go on forever, your body convulsing around him until finally, with a groan, he buried himself deep and emptied himself inside you. You felt the hot spurt of his cum fill you up, and the sensation was like nothing you had ever experienced. It was raw, primal, and utterly exhilarating.

As the aftershocks of pleasure subsided, Toji leaned in and kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth with the same hunger he had shown moments before. His cock remained buried inside you, still pulsing with the last remnants of his release. You could feel his heart hammering against your chest, his breathing ragged and erratic.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, savoring the feeling of his warmth and the weight of his body pressing you into the counter. The kitchen, once a place of domesticity, was now a stage for your carnally charged performance. The scent of sex mingled with the faint aroma of mint from your tea, creating a heady blend that seemed to intoxicate you further.

"You're a naughty girl," Toji said, his voice still thick with lust as he kissed along your neck, making you shiver.

"Is that a compliment?" you teased, your voice light and playful.

Toji chuckled, his grip on your hips loosening slightly. "You bet your sweet ass it is," he said, his eyes raking over your bare chest. "I've never seen anyone look so fucking good with their legs spread on a kitchen counter."

You couldn't help but smile at his crudeness, feeling a warmth spread through you that had nothing to do with the aftermath of your orgasm. "And I've never had a plumber quite like you," you retorted, running your nails lightly down his back.

Toji chuckled, "I aim to please."

#toji x you #toji smut #jjk toji #toji fushiguro #toji x reader #toji fushigro x reader #toji fic #toji fushiguro smut #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut

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miyahchan · 27 days ago

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Week Two - October 11th - Demon!Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis: Using the ouija board with your friends seemed like a harmless idea until a tall, tattooed figure appeared at the end of your bed.

Word Count: 2.2k

🚨 Warnings: 18+ content, dubcon, rough sex, squirting, backshots, hand mouth giving oral sex (lol), a little sadism.

A/N: So sorry for posting this part so late. I had a lot of college assignments due last week and I fell a little bit behind with the order of my Kinktober posts. Hopefully you still enjoy this one! 🚨

Check out the official Kinktober 2024 post HERE!

Never play alone.

Never play in a cemetery.

Always say goodbye.

The rules were simple enough. The bedroom was dim except for the soft light from the candles you had lit for “ambience”, and the only sound in the room was the giggling amongst you and your friends. The three of you sat in a circle on the floor, engulfed in pillows and blankets, and in the middle of this circle was nothing other than a Ouija board.

You weren’t exactly sure how they had convinced you to do this. The sleepover was taking place at your house, with you being in charge of both food and comfort. One of your friends had snuck the board in with their luggage, only revealing it right before it was time to settle down and go to bed.

When she had shown it to you, you initially were against using it. You watched a lot of horror movies, and every time a Ouija board got involved, that’s when things went awry. But, with just a little coaxing and a promise to take it serious, you sat among your friends, ready to try it out.

“Is anybody there?” You spoke first.

The three of you had two fingers each on the planchet, watching it intensely. In a way, you expected the planchet to go flying across the board, like it did in the movies. But, as the three of you waited, nothing happened.

Your friends were shooting smiles at each other, and you rolled your eyes at them.

“I thought you were taking this serious.” You said, annoyed that they were already breaking the one condition you had.

“We are!” One of your friends retorted, her laughter going against her message. But, when she glanced down at the board, her laughter started to fade. “Holy shit.” She whispered.

You looked too, only to realize that now, the planchet was moving.

The triangle slid slowly across the board until it stopped on “Yes”. The three of you sat in silence, your eyes darting between the board and each other. Your once laughing friend was the first one to break the silence. “Did one of you guys move it?”

“I swear it moved by itself.” Your other friend defended herself.

“Why would I move it?” You added.

As soon as the words leave your mouth, the planchet moves again. This time, it’s much faster as it whips across the board. It darts from one letter to another aimlessly, back and forth between “Yes” and “No”, and then, finally, it lands on “Goodbye” and stops abruptly.

You snatch your fingers off the planchet. “Nope. Fuck that.”

Your friends follow suit, equally disturbed.

The mood is tainted for the rest of the night. Any plans of fun – horror movies, s’mores, and even late-night gossip – were killed. Instead, the three of you sat in a heavy silence, everyone keeping to themselves. By the time midnight rolled around, your friends had fallen asleep in their sleeping bags on your bedroom floor and you had curled up in your bed.

As much as you tried to coax yourself to fall asleep, you simply couldn’t. Every time you closed your eyes, you saw the Ouija board. You remembered how the planchet soared across the board and spelled out gibberish, and it raised the hairs on the back of your neck. You stared at your friends’ sleeping forms on the floor. Surely, this couldn’t be some elaborate prank, right? No, it wasn’t possible. When you remembered their faces, they wore the same shocked expression as you. Besides, the way the planchet moved was unnatural. It would’ve been hard for a person to replicate that without making it obvious that it was them.

You shake your head and slide out from underneath your thick blankets, your feet hitting the floor. You need some water.

You tiptoe out of your bedroom and down the hall. As you pass by the other rooms in your apartment, you instinctively turn on the lights. You hated the idea of walking through the dark, especially tonight. You’re standing at the fridge, filling up a cup when you get the first feeling that something is still… off.

You were cold. No, freezing.

You kept your apartment warm during the fall season, and you tended to walk around draped in one of your Halloween themed, fur blankets. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d been cold in this place, but there you were, shivering as you took small sips of your drink. Goosebumps littered your arms and legs and you could barely hold up your glass as you shivered.

You bring the drink back to your room, but when you enter, you notice something else strange – the TV was on. You had turned it off before it was time for bed, but now, it was turned on. It wasn’t even playing a show; it only showed static. You grabbed the remote and turned the TV off.

You’re on edge. You’re freaking yourself out. Those two thoughts ran through your head as you crawled back into bed. You attempted to rationalize the weird occurances. Your landlord hadn’t done the best job at keeping things up to date. You could only imagine that your thermostat and electrical sockets needed to be tweaked or something.

Those thoughts comforted you enough for you to get a wink of sleep that night. But it didn’t last long.

Your eyes flutter open and you’re met by darkness. You’re sweating now, your clothes damp, and you throw your blanket off you. Gasps escape you as you breathe heavily. You’d had a bad dream, but you couldn’t remember what it was about. The details escaped your mind almost as fast as your eyes travelled toward the end of your bed and you noticed it.

It was a large, black mass, standing still near your feet. You thought you were imagining it at first, your eyes playing tricks on you in the dark and forming shapes from shadows, but as your sleepiness wore off you, you realized it was in fact real.

Your hand creeps toward the lamp on your nightstand and when you turn it on, you force yourself to hold in a scream.

He – it – towered over your bed. He was huge and bulky, his toned body covered in black markings that resembled tribal tattoos. You looked up at his face, taken aback again. The markings were on his face too, but that wasn’t exactly what stood out. Underneath his red, intense eyes were another, smaller pair of eyes.

A broken whimper escaped your throat before he was on you.

He smacked a large, strong hand over your mouth, applying so much pressure that you feared he would break your jaw. His strength was unnatural, but so were those crimson eyes and the… other eyes. You attempt to wriggle from his grasp, but that one hand was enough to keep you down. His eyes scan your much smaller form as you struggle underneath him, and his mouth widens into a menacing grin. He lets out a cackle, the deep sound rattling through your body. You freeze in fear.

As his laughter dies down, he looks down at you with an expression that can only be described as contempt.

“Pathetic.” He spat.

He squeezes your face, making a mockery of your scared expression. You glance at your friends, only to see them still asleep on the floor. How were they still asleep right now?

“Wake them and I’ll give you something to be scared of.” The demon – he couldn’t be anything else, right? – threatened you, already knowing you had the idea to try to wake your friends. He forced you to look at him, his expression darkening.

Then, he did something unexpected.

He bent down and licked your neck, leaving a trail of saliva. You froze again, unsure of what to do. You couldn’t get away, not with his strength, but you couldn’t call on your friends either, with both his hand over your mouth and the fear of what he’d do to you if you even attempted it. He licks your neck again, growling as he tastes the saltiness of your skin. With one hand keeping you quiet, you watch as his other hand moves down your body. His nails are black and sharp, and they cut through the fabric of your pajamas with ease.

The cool air tickles your naked body, exposing you to him. Adrenaline courses through your veins. You were even more vulnerable to the demon, who now had you bare beneath him.

It finally hit you. You were naked. Under a demon.

You gasp when he pinches your nipple harshly. He scoffs at your reaction. “So weak.” He complains before he does something truly unexplainable. He raises his hand and you watch as a mouth forms on the palm. He, then, places the hand on your breast and the mouth goes to work. It sucks on your nipple, turning the pain into pleasure, and you let out a soft moan against the demon’s hand.

He rolls his eyes and yanks his hand away, leaving you yearning for more.

Yearning for more? You couldn’t believe yourself.

The demon had been wearing nothing but silk, white pants that looked oddly expensive for a demon, and you watched as he ditched them. He stood before you in his nude glory, and you couldn’t keep your eyes off him. You’d imagined demons as ugly, vile creatures, but in that moment, you only saw beauty. His body looked as if it had been sculpted by gods, the black markings only accentuating his muscles. You didn’t get to look for too long before you were flipped over hastily, and you felt his hands force your legs apart.

Your legs ached beneath his grasp but you couldn’t move. You felt his tip nudging at your entrance before he slams himself inside of you. With no time to adjust, you let out a yelp before immediately covering your mouth. The sound doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Tsk. Stupid mortal.” You feel a hand on the back of your head before your face is shoved into the pillow, and then he starts to thrust into you. With very little prep, it’s painful at first. He’s huge, abnormally so, and he stretches you out to your limit. Every thrust is accompanied by a burning sensation from just how much he’s stretching you, but your body slowly adjusts and the feeling of pleasure starts to creep in.

You muffle into the pillow as he plows into you. The sound of his hips smacking into your ass fills the room, and his thrusts left a stinging sensation on your ass cheeks from how harsh he was being. His hands crush your hips, using them as leverage to juggle you back and forth effortlessly. God, you want to scream, but you could barely even breathe as you keep your face buried. It’s not ideal but it helps you keep your noises contained. His hands focus on your ass, gripping the flesh of your ass cheeks. Then, you feel the mouth on his palm bite into the flesh. A surge of pain erupts through you but the feeling of his dick slamming into you makes it subside. You arch your back and he’s even deeper in you, his cock smacking your cervix. You knew you’d be in pain the next day, but you didn’t care.

The next thing he does catches you by surprise. He leans over you and wraps his hand underneath your body, and you feel wetness on your clit. Sure enough, his palm is lapping at your pussy, overstimulating you even more. Its technique is sloppy, drool dripping from the mouth and onto the sheets as it eats you out ferociously. It licks, slurps, and sucks your clit deliciously, and the combination of that and the demon fucking you from behind is too much for you to handle.

You shudder beneath him as you cum, juices spurting all over. You squirt all over his dick and balls as he continues to ram into you. A puddle forms beneath you, and every thrust from the demon has you adding more to it. You cry into the pillow, unsure of how much more you can take.

But he’s not done with you.

He flips you onto your back and shoves himself back inside of you, filling you up again. His hand is on your mouth again, but the mouth on his palm shoves its tongue inside your mouth, invading it. You can taste your juices as it makes out with you. The demon speeds up its pace, not giving you the chance to rest. With one hand on your mouth, his other hand squeezes your thigh. You’re destined to have bruises and you’re already thinking of excuses for them that you can tell your friends. His groin is shiny from your cum and you see strings of cum connecting your hips together. It was messy, but you loved it.

The demon is quiet as he fucks into you. His face is dead-panned and focused, his aura even more intense. But he breaks this intensity when he finally pulls out of your pussy. Hot, thick spurts of cum shoot from his dick and he growls as he paints you with it.

You gasp for air when he finally pulls away from you. When he comes down from his orgasm, his red eyes glare at you. However, you don’t even feel fear anymore. You’re just tired.

He grabs a piece of fabric that was once your pajamas and shoots it straight at you, smacking you in the face with it. But, by the time you peel it off your face, you look up and he’s gone.

Douchebag.

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