#And he's been shoved to the side enough times already‚ but to have him definitely lose against the main villain– | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

loveinhawkins · 11 months

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The Championship Game of 1985 is only a quarter of the way done, and Eddie is already certain that it’s not going to be a Hawkins victory.

It kinda blows, honestly. It’s boring, like correctly guessing the ending of a movie five minutes in.

And yeah, sue him, maybe high school basketball is a legitimate source of entertainment—he can admit that in the safety of his own head, at least.

Take, for example, the first game of the ‘83 tournament, when a timeout was called with only seconds remaining: the Tigers’ last hope of winning was to miraculously sink a shot with the fraction of time they had left. The tension in the air was palpable as the team formed a huddle—Eddie couldn’t hear anything apart from students chanting, but he stood on his tiptoes and found a gap in the crowd, just in time to read Steve Harrington’s lips: “I’ll make it.”

And he had—with a goddamn stunning full-court jump shot, too, the ball falling through the net just before the buzzer sounded.

Like, come on. Eddie would only admit it under pain of death, but that definitely rivals the intensity of any worthy campaign.

But he can see none of that excitement now. The Tigers have had few opportunities to even get the ball, and whenever they do, Billy Hargrove seems to have taken it upon himself to hog the damn thing, like it’s a symbol of his masculinity.

Of course, he loses the ball—again—and his nostrils flare with anger.

Maybe that’s why Eddie notices it. He’s checked out of paying attention to the game itself, instead focusing on the jaded expressions of Hargrove’s teammates.

As the ball makes its way down center court, Eddie’s eyes are instead drawn to Steve Harrington. He looks pissed, wiping sweat off his forehead and shouting what looks like some pretty choice words at Hargrove’s back.

Hargrove doesn’t seem to acknowledge it, but for just a moment he goes completely still, and all Eddie can think is danger.

It’s covert, the way it’s all done. Hargrove’s move is quick and calculated; he steps far enough away afterwards that it looks like the whole thing is the fault of a rival player.

But Eddie sees the subtle shove. Sees Steve lose his footing.

He goes down hard.

Winces ripple through the audience. Eddie hears Robin Buckley from band suck air through her teeth, then ramble, “Shit, do you think it’s really bad? Beth Wildfire, on my soccer team, her bone, like, came out of her whole knee, you could see it, must’ve been six inches—”

It doesn’t look like anything as gory as that has happened; Steve is already up, and from the redness of his face, it initially seems as if the only thing that’s been hurt is his pride.

But as Eddie sidles to the end of the front row, within earshot of the bench, he sees that Steve can’t put his weight on one ankle, sees the telling way he grits his teeth while speaking.

“I can keep going,” he says, even as Jason Carver’s getting pulled up to replace him.

The coach barely spares Steve a glance, clapping Carver on the shoulder as he jogs onto the court.

“Get someone to take you over to the nurse.”

Steve’s spine goes rigid. “But I can—”

“Look, I don’t have time for this.” The coach finally looks at Steve directly, pointing a stern finger at his chest. “You’re benched, Harrington.”

Steve visibly deflates. He opens his mouth, but no words come out, and then he glances to the side, as if suddenly aware that he’s drawing attention to himself.

This time, when his teeth clench, Eddie thinks that it’s more from embarrassment than pain.

“Whatever,” Steve mutters, and he limps out of the hall—close enough that he clips Eddie by the shoulder as he goes.

Eddie doesn’t know that he’s made a decision until he’s already moving, stepping to the side.

He turns and heads for the exit.

There’s a jeering call from the bench: Mark Lewinsky.

“Aw, what are you gonna do, Munson? Nurse him back to health?”

Obscene moaning noises, punctuated with laughter.

Eddie rolls his eyes.

He finds Steve in the corridor, bracing himself with a hand against the wall. There’s a couple of pictures on the floor, class photos taken for the yearbook that had been pinned up; Steve must have inadvertently torn them down as he grappled for balance.

“Go away, Munson,” he says without looking. “Go back to the game.”

“I’ve kinda lost interest,” Eddie says lightly. He manages to watch Steve take one painful step before he simply can’t do it anymore—stepping forward, he says, “Christ, Harrington, here.”

Steve jolts away from his hand. “Fuck off, I don’t need—”

“Well, fuck you too, then,” Eddie snaps. Something’s burning in his chest, a sudden and fierce hurt. “Jesus Christ. You know what I am isn’t fucking catching, right?”

He shocks himself by saying it.

In the silence that follows all he can think is that, for once, his dad was right: he never did learn how to shut his damn mouth.

Steve’s staring at him, pressing his back against the wall like it’s the one thing keeping him upright.

“That’s—that’s not why—” He breaks off, looks completely lost.

Somewhere within Eddie’s own mortification, he takes pity on him.

He sniffs, tries to act nonchalant. “Don’t hurt yourself, man.”

“No, I—I didn’t mean…” Steve sighs. “I’m sorry. That’s not—I just meant—” He pushes off from the wall again, wobbles until his hand finds purchase. “Just meant I can do it myself.”

Eddie feels his heart rate slow. He tilts his head. Re-examines Steve’s posture: the set to his jaw, the pained determination.

Years ago, Eddie broke his wrist at the fair, thanks to an awkward crash while on the bumper cars. It was the first summer that staying at Wayne’s had become a permanent thing, and Eddie had hidden his wrist beneath the folds of his too-large leather jacket, but Wayne met him off the ride and immediately noticed (“Chrissake, Ed. I’m not mad, kid. Just… lemme help you?”).

Eddie tried to stay silent as he got wrapped into a splint, because anything else felt like admitting to something.

Felt shameful.

“Yeah, you can,” Eddie says, shrugging. He pauses. Takes a chance. “Doesn’t mean you have to, though.”

He moves forward again—slower this time. Offers his hand.

Steve takes it.

“For the record,” he says, grunting as he shifts his weight, “I could’ve kept playing. Like, I’ve had worse.”

Yeah, Eddie thinks, you sure have.

Steve clearly hasn’t sensed that Eddie’s thoughts have gone to how messed up his face was last winter, because he keeps talking.

“Anyway. My own damn fault.” A rueful grin. “Didn’t plant my feet.”

“Don’t,” Eddie says. “You don’t have to… I saw. I saw Hargrove, man.”

Steve scoffs quietly. “Yeah, of course you did.”

“Shit, Harrington, way to make me sound like a stalker.”

“No, it’s just—” Steve shakes his head. “Just typical, that’s all. Remember when the fire alarm went off, last spring? You were the only one who noticed Debbie Lyons was missing.”

“Uh, so?”

Steve smiles. “So… you notice things.”

Eddie doesn’t know what to say.

But he gives it a try as they round another corner.

“What the fuck is Hargrove’s problem with you, dude?”

Steve chuckles wryly. “I’m really annoying.”

“Yeah, fair enough,” Eddie says, grinning when Steve manages to elbow him in the ribs. “But not, like, ‘intentionally injure’ levels of annoying. He threw the game, too.”

“Huh?”

Eddie fixes Steve with a pointed look. “Took out one of our best players.”

Steve rolls his eyes, but still looks undeniably pleased. “Shuddup.” He sobers in the space of taking another step and says, “With Hargrove, it’s… there’s bigger things than basketball, y’know?”

Eddie hears the just drop it underneath what’s spoken. He nods.

They’re almost at the nurse’s office when Steve sighs. “S’not exactly how I pictured it.”

“Hmm?”

“My last game.” Steve winces slightly as they inch closer to the door; Eddie tries to take more of his weight. “Had it in my head that I’d win, go out on a high.”

Eddie’s staring down the prospect of repeating senior year again—he knows all about having ideas in your head that don’t quite pan out.

“Life isn’t like a movie, Harrington,” he says.

It comes out perhaps more fond than he intended.

For some reason, Steve starts laughing like he’s heard something downright hilarious. “Yeah, gonna have to agree to disagree on that one, Munson.”

In the nurse’s office, they find out Steve’s probably got a bad sprain rather than a fracture (“See? I totally could’ve kept playing,” Steve insists), but that he should get it checked out at the hospital, just in case.

Ice pack in one hand, Steve makes a call on the office phone, with what sounds like a morbidly curious teen on the other end: “No, dude, there’s no blood—can you be normal for, like, two seconds and put your mom on? Thank you.”

As Steve hangs up, Eddie is very aware that the right time to leave was probably five minutes ago.

He stays put.

“This was supposed to be my last game, too,” he says.

“Was?”

Eddie clicks his tongue. “Well. S’not confirmed yet, haven’t had my last test results back. But uh, it’s kinda like the game.” He nods in the direction that they came, towards the basketball court. “I already know which way it’s gonna go.”

There’s no judgement in Steve’s eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve been boring to watch.”

Eddie smiles. “Nah, you’re good.”

He doesn’t say that, in his eyes, Steve’s single-handedly given the school almost all of its memorable basketball moments. That his secret favourite one isn’t even a Tigers victory: there was a game when Steve was poised to take the winning shot, and a kid from Connersville fainted.

In the few seconds of confusion, Steve could’ve still taken the shot. He could’ve won.

But as soon as he realised what was going on, he refused to.

To Eddie, that says more about him than any triumph ever could.

The phone rings again; the nurse is letting a Mrs Henderson in at the front of the school to pick up Steve.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Eddie says, because there’s only so many people allowed in the office at one time.

“See you, Munson. Um, thanks, by the way. Hope next year’s championship is, uh, better.”

There’s something in the way he says it, like even while still in the building, he’s drifting away, high school in his rear view mirror.

Oh, Eddie thinks wistfully, you’re already halfway outta here, aren’t you?

Goddamnit. I might actually miss you, Steve Harrington. You and your stupid hair.

“Hmm, can’t see myself going to watch next year.”

“Oh, yeah? How come?”

Eddie lingers in the doorway. Maybe it’s the fact that in a few weeks they’re never gonna see each other again. Maybe that helps him say it. Makes him a little braver.

He’s never learned to shut his damn mouth.

“My favourite player’s leaving,” he says.

And sure, he leaves barely a second later; he’s not that brave.

But he stays just long enough to catch Steve’s smile: startled, pleased, and perhaps just a little shy—like he’s made the winning shot after all.

#i just love the thought that Eddie used to secretly enjoy basketball ‘for some reason’ ❤️#pre steddie #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #steve x eddie #implied homophobia

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xorafe · 27 days

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both sinners (part one)

pairing drugdealer! rafe cameron x female reader

rating explicit 18+

content warning drug use

summary as a stripper, you’re well aware that someone you know could walk into the club at any moment. when rafe is your newest customer, you’re actually glad to see a familiar face.

{ masterlist }

*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*━━━*+:★:+*

The room is humid. The pole is smooth. The music is throbbing. And the seats are filling up fast. It’s a typical Saturday night at the club.

You just stepped out on the stage, circling the pole, taking slow, seductive steps in your stilettos.

A polished ‘reserved’ name plate sits on table in the booth right in front of you. You’ll start your routine and get undressed when the people who claimed that booth come in.

You’ve only been stripping for a few months, but you know well enough by now that it’s not worth putting your best show on until the reserved booths are full. Those customers are the most generous with their tips.

Moments later, in the pink and purple lights shimmering over the large club, you can make out the shadowed figures of three men piling into the booth.

You hook your leg around the pole and gyrate while they get seated, ready to start your show.

Rafe settles in the cushioned booth and is immediately captivated by you. You’re so smooth with every slow roll of your hips.

He glances around, seeing the other dancers, but there’s something about you that’s magnetic. It’s like his eyes will only allow him to look at you.

You’re in a sheer skirt and a scant bra; in his opinion, too many clothes are covering your body. He watches while you sensually sway, the lights hitting your planes and curves.

When you arch your back to pull the string holding your bra together, baring your tits, you bra falls to the floor in a bunch. You dip your head back, chest uncovered and so fucking perfect, as you hold yourself up on the pole.

You’re left in nothing but a mini-skirt, lace panties, and six-inch heels.

He’s in awe.

“Dude!” Topper shouts over the music. Rafe looks over at his friend and the waitress leaning over his shoulder. “Drink?”

Rafe realizes they’ve probably been trying to get his attention for a while. He was just too damn distracted by the silhouette on stage.

He laughs, ordering an old fashioned, and turns his attention back to you.

“Acting like you’ve never seen tits before,” Topper chides him, shoving his shoulder and making Kelce crack up.

“Shut the fuck up,” Rafe chuckles.

You hike yourself up on the pole and slowly spread your legs apart, twisting and rolling. Goddamn. He’s already so fucking worked up just from watching you dance a few feet away from him.

You wait until their drinks arrive and let them get a few sips in before you sink to the glossy floor and swing your legs over the stage.

“Hi, boys,” you say over the music, turning on the flirty, confident identity you always take on while on stage. “Having fun?”

“It’s his birthday,” one of them shouts and points to the man in the middle.

“Oh, yeah?” you say with a smile. You slowly drop onto the carpeted floor and start to close the distance between you and the three men.

The way your hips swing is making Rafe’s groin get tighter. He can’t believe this is his first time in a strip club. What the fuck took him so long?

You freeze for a second when you realize you know these guys. Kind of.

Even though you live nowhere near Figure 8, you’ve befriended enough wealthy people on the island to get invited to their extravagant house parties. And you’ve definitely seen these men before.

You know Rafe best out of the three. He sells the purest coke you’ve ever tried and he somehow gets hotter every time you see him. You’ve talked to him maybe twice, buying a couple of grams off of him.

It’ll only be awkward if you make it awkward, so you place your hands on the edge of the table in the middle of the booth and lean forward, arms pressed against your sides to push out your tits.

Rafe’s eyes dip to your naked chest immediately, then back up to your face. He’s met you before. He thought you were hot then, and he thinks you’re hot now.

“I know you,” you tease. He finds it sexy how you’re completely unfazed by this, not embarrassed at all to be half-naked like this in front of them. “Happy birthday.”

His friend, who you’re pretty sure people call Topper, holds out a folded $50 between his fore finger and middle finger to you.

“First dance is on me, man,” Topper slurs, patting Rafe’s chest with his other hand. By the lazy smiles on their faces, you can tell these aren’t their first drinks of the night.

You lick your lips and smile as you take the bill and tuck it in the waistband of your skirt. You know these guys are loaded. You’re going to make a killing tonight.

You look back at the stage, spotting another dancer and cocking your chin to silently gesture to her to join the table and keep the other guys entertained while you focus on Rafe.

You slowly make your way towards him, the erotic, bass-heavy music surrounding you. You typically let your mind drift away while you give a customer a lap dance, but you’re actually attracted to this one.

The sight of your thighs spreading as you kneel down to straddle him makes Rafe’s heart start pounding even harder.

“Hi,” you say with a sweet smile. You settle and hover over him, mostly supporting yourself on your knees, but sitting on his lap just enough to feel his firm thighs beneath you.

You’re a little nervous, which takes you by surprise. This must be what happens when a customer is someone you have a crush on.

His cologne smells crisp and expensive as you put your hands on his broad shoulders, rubbing over the fabric of his t-shirt.

“Hi,” Rafe says with a stunned grin, his dimples deep. You feel his hands settle under your skirt, fingers splayed over your ass. Even though the rules are strict against touching the dancers, and you’re sure he was told that when he arrived, you let him.

It feels so damn good to be wanted like this by him, to have him touch you. Besides, he seems like the type who thinks he’s above the rules anyway, so telling him not to touch you would be a waste of breath.

“How’s your day been?” you coo, palms sliding down to his chest. Rafe’s blue eyes trail from your mouth to your half-naked body, the handsome angles of his face shadowed under the lights.

“Better now,” he says, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. You giggle, leaning to speak into his ear.

“They don’t let you touch the dancers here,” you mumble to him, “but I’ll give you a pass tonight.”

You pull back to see him clench his defined jawline as he squeezes harder.

“Yeah?” he rasps, the sharp smell of bourbon on his breath. “How come?”

“It’s my birthday present to you,” you say, starting to writhe on him.

“Bullshit,” he smirks. “It’s ‘cause you want me to touch you.” You can admit to yourself that his ego is kind of charming. And yeah, he’s right. His hands on you do feel good.

You sit up to prop your chest right up to his face. Rafe breathes in the smell of your perfume, revelling in the feeling of your tits inches away from his face.

“Are you always this cocky?” you ask. You rake a hand up the back of his head, his hair soft between your fingers.

“Yeah,” Rafe says simply, his careless shrug adding to his charm. You start to gyrate against him, feeling his firmness in his jeans. You dip your head, your cheek pressed against his as you grind.

“That feels good, huh?” you hum.

“Fuck,” he mutters, his voice deep as he says your name. “I didn’t know you were such a bad girl.”

Damn. You’re actually getting wet right now. This never happens. This is supposed to be work.

“Now you know,” you reply. Your hand slides down his chest, over his firm stomach, landing at his groin. Damn. He’s big.

“Shit,” he groans. You pull back, seeing Rafe’s drunken smile, and seamlessly sit up to swing your leg off of him, backing up to shake your ass on him.

The way your skirt is bouncing with every recoil makes him feel like he could go crazy. You look back at him to see him digging into his pocket, taking a wad of cash out.

He tucks a bill into the band of your skirt, his bottom lip trapped under his teeth as he watches you lustfully.

The way you shake and sway and bump on his lap is making the tension in him tighten, closer and closer to snapping by the second. It’s not enough. He needs to see you fully naked.

The next time you look at him, Rafe impatiently wags his fingers to beckon you to turn towards him again. You obey and kneel over, your faces only inches apart, your hands on his thighs, your ass in the air.

“You gonna get naked or what?” he mutters impatiently. You’re flattered that he’s so into you.

“I can, here,” you say, eager to upsell, “or we can go up to a private room.”

“Yeah?” he says. “What else can we do in there?”

“Did you come here to talk?” you hear a man shout. You realize Topper’s giving him shit, smiling as one of the other dancers grinds on him.

You honestly like that Rafe is talking to you instead of silently watching you dance for him, but you giggle, trying to keep the atmosphere light and fun.

Rafe doesn’t like you laughing with his friend. Or smiling at him. Or even looking at him.

“Let’s go,” Rafe says resolutely. You turn to gaze at him again, his eyes gleaming in the flickering lights.

“It’s $100 for a room-” you begin, but he interrupts.

“Let’s go,” he repeats. You have a feeling you could tell him any price and he’d agree.

You smile and take Rafe’s hand, leading him upstairs to one of the VIP rooms. A bouncer standing in the top level hallway nods to you and motions to a free room.

“No touching, buddy,” he warns Rafe, who only replies with a mocking nod. This man has no respect for anyone or anything. And he makes it look so sexy.

The small space offers an upholstered booth, a pole, and a table for drinks. The dim red bulb on the ceiling seems to casts more shadows than light, making Rafe annoyed that he won’t be able to see you better.

He settles onto the booth as you shut the door behind you. His legs are spread wide, his cock stretching his jeans out in an impressive bulge.

The music is muffled, but still loud enough to dance to in the private room. You toss the bills that are sitting under your waistband onto the table, then position yourself between his knees to writhe for him as you pull down the zipper on the side of your skirt.

The skirt pools around your heels. Rafe drinks in the vision of your lace panties, the way the fabric hugs your lips. He has never been more turned on.

“Damn…” he groans with a disbelieving scoff, his hands sliding up your thighs. When he runs a thumb up your middle, you tremble.

This feels unreal. You’ve given every other man who merely tried to touch your hand a firm reminder of the rules. But here you are, letting Rafe touch your pussy, loving the feeling.

“I knew you were fine, but shit,” he mutters.

You can’t help but wonder if he was attracted to you before he laid eyes on you tonight, when you were fully dressed at the parties you’ve seen each other at.

Rafe’s lips curl into a smirk as he digs into his pocket to pull out his wallet and a clear baggy of white powder. If you weren’t sure that he couldn’t give less of a fuck about rules before, you are now.

“Want some?” he asks.

“I’m working,” you laugh.

“What’s a little bit gonna do?” Rafe asks, pulling out a credit card. “Lie down.”

Intrigued, you follow his orders, settling on the booth onto your back.

“Stay still,” he mutters. You laugh to yourself in disbelief when you realize he’s setting up a line on your chest, right between your tits. He’s almost too much.

Rafe loves the way the powder looks sitting on your skin. He taps the edge of his credit card against the line of coke, evening it out, before he leans down and snorts through a rolled up bill.

Euphoria hits every one of his senses immediately. His lips are right by yours and he gives into his impulse like he always does, leaning down to kiss you.

He takes you by surprise when he captures your lips in his. You smile beneath his hot mouth, enthralled by his spontaneous passion, feeling him suck on your bottom lip. When he pulls back, he’s smiling.

“You sure you don’t want any?” Rafe asks, pupils blown.

“Fuck it,” you laugh. This night has been crazy enough. “Just a bump.”

You sit up, leaning against the cushion of the booth and you hold out your finger, watching as he carefully tips some coke out of the baggy. You rub it over your gums, purposely sucking your finger as you pop it out of your mouth.

Everything about you is driving Rafe crazy in the best way. You’re so fucking carefree and self-possessed.

He shifts to hang over you, his fingers looping around the band of your panties. Rafe pulls them down your legs and sharply inhales when he sees your bare pussy.

He needs you. A dance isn’t enough.

“I’m supposed to do that part,” you breathe a chuckle.

“How much to fuck you?” He meets your eyes, his hair hanging over his forehead.

“We can’t do that, baby,” you laugh, although you desperately want to. You’d get fired in a second. “Not here.”

“It’s my birthday,” he whines with a heartbreaking grin. He palms his dick in his pants, eyes drifting down your body hungrily. “How much? I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You’ve already broken so many rules, and you would love to fuck him, but the risk of getting caught is just too high. You decide to compromise.

You put him hand on the hard swelling in his pants and rub.

“How about this?” you ask, looking up at him through your lashes. “You sit down and I touch you.”

That way, you think, if anyone walks in, your back will be to the door and you can hide what you’re doing, making it look like you’re just giving him another lap dance.

Rafe nods, glad he has the promise of a release, and sits back down where he was before.

You shuffle to straddle him, feeling his hands on your ass again. You unbutton and zip down his jeans and he frantically bucks his hips up and slips them down.

When his cock pops out of his boxers, you nearly gasp at how big it is.

“I got hard the second I saw your tits,” he laughs, feeling drunk and high out of his mind.

“Yeah?” you purr. You spit on your palm then put your hand around his base. He groans, the pressure sending a roll of pleasure through his body.

“Yeah,” Rafe shudders. “You have really nice fucking tits.” Wow. He’s talkative when he’s high. You love it.

His hands move up to capture your breasts, squeezing the flesh.

“How the fuck am I not supposed to touch you? That’s a stupid fucking rule,” he mutters, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples. You shudder, arching your back at the sensation.

“Damn, you like that?” he rasps with a smirk.

“Yeah,” you breathe a laugh. You start to run your hand up and down his cock, arousal pooling in your gut.

“You’re telling me you don’t want this dick inside you?” he teases. You bite your bottom lip and twist your wrist as you stroke him.

“We can’t fuck in here,” you tell him.

“But we can somewhere else?” Rafe asks, tilting his chin towards you so you’ll kiss him again.

The coke is starting to hit your system as your tongue rolls over his, your palm wet against his cock.

“Yeah, we can,” you say shakily when you pull away.

“Shit, you’re good at that,” he grunts, looking down at your hand working him. All you can hear is the muffled music and your combined breathing and the sound of your wet skin rubbing over his.

“Yeah?” you ask.

Rafe’s head is spinning. He takes in the sight of his hands on your perfect tits, the way you’re jerking him off, the smile on your pretty face. All this combined with the liquor and coke rushing through him is fucking paradise.

“You wanna cum on me?” you impulsively ask. He’s still partly dressed, but you’re fully naked. It’d be easier to clean up. And, if you’re being honest, you want to feel his cum on you.

“You really are a bad girl,” Rafe laughs. You meet his eyes. He’s so depraved, but hell, so are you.

You put your other hand on him, rubbing his thick length in a faster rhythm. He rolls his head back as he groans.

“I’m gonna… oh, fuck…” His deep voice unravels into mumbles.

You aim his cock towards you, watching the white ropes of his cum spurt out of him, his body twitching beneath you. The hot liquid splashes over your stomach and your thighs, making you smile in satisfaction.

When he comes down from the high you gave him, he hands you his entire wad of cash.

You didn’t expect your night to take this turn, but it was so much fucking fun. And you have no idea if Rafe will remember any of this. But you hope he does.

{ part two }

author’s note: thank you to this anon for inspiring this fic! title is based on “sinners” by ari abdul and thomas larosa.

if you want notifications on when i post my fics, follow @xorafe-library and turn on notifications 💘

#my enemies/rivals to lovers fic took a little pause just bc i love this concept sm hehe #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #rafe obx #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #obx smut #rafe cameron and you #rafe cameron and y/n #rafe cameron and reader

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beababoobies · 2 months

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Hi!

Can I please request Sir Pentious x reader NSFW headcanons/fic/whatever you wanna write?

If not that's okay, I hope you're having or have had a wonderful day :)

👀… yeah. I gotchu. I um. Yeah. 👀

Double Trouble - Headcanons + Minific

warning. smut. filth. you know the deal. that’s why you’re here. AFAB reader. enjoy lovely.

🐍 He’s super self conscious at first. It’s not easy having two dicks! Especially when both of them are bigger than average. He’s super hesitant to even touch you at first, he doesn’t want to hurt you.

🐍 A bottom. Jesus Christ, a bottom. Physically and emotionally this man is farthest from dominant. If you really wanted him to, he could try? But he’s just really soft & sweet..

🐍 He’ll encourage & praise you the entire time… when he’s not on the verge of losing it. Whether you only want to try taking one, or maybe if you’re extra adventurous and want to try both of them… not recommended, but it’ll turn him into a whiney mess.

🐍 Cries during sex. Just kiss his tears away and tell him he’s being good for you and he’ll have to hold never want to leave. Practically melts underneath you.

🐍 His fav position is definitely, DEFINITELY cowgirl (/boy.) and he will always be grabbing at you when he’s on the bottom. Your waist, your chest, your thighs. Your skin is just so soft and warm, he can’t help it.

🐍 He prefers sitting cowgirl though, so he can kiss you. He loves being at eye level. Sex is about love & intimacy to him, which is one of the reasons he really can’t understand Angel. How can you be so loving with that many people??

🐍 Sensitive. Very, very sensitive. Also, because he’s cold blooded, his cum is most on the cold side. Which means he always wants to cum inside you. You’re just so warm and lovely, he doesn’t ever want to pull out…

🐍 Whiney. Vocal. Whiney and Vocal. He will be writhing and whining at the smallest touches. Your name, small praises, begs. If you want to do it at the hotel in your room, you’re going to have to gag him on something, or slap your hand over his mouth. Those walls are too thin for this mans behaviour.

🐍 Loves going down on you. Whether it’s eating you out for hours until you have to forcefully shove him away, or just nipping at your thighs for a couple minutes. He loves the taste of you on his tongue. The vibrations of his long tongue pressed up against your favourite spots when he hisses?

🐍 I digress.

You had finally felt brave enough to attempt to take both of them - usually, you’d be riding one of them and stroking the other, it was a gorgeous sight - albeit, messy - with him begging and crying underneath you. But this time, he was trying to keep it together. For you.

It had already been thirty minutes of him making you cum multiple times from eating you out, now all pussy drunk beneath you as he fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips, piercing him lips together the best he could to stop himself from whining.

“You’re doing - ngh, sssss-ssso good, my dear..” he hissed out, watching your run your lubed up slit up an down the tip of his cocks, preparing yourself for what you knew would be a painful stretch. You sighed softly as you held still, lining both the tips up with your entrance before gently pushing yourself down, a choked moan coming from your mouth as you grabbed on tightly to the sheets beneath you.

“Oh my ssssatan.” He mumbled softly, clenching his eyes shut extra tight as he gently rubbing your hip, trying to help you ease into it. He knew you were in some pain, but for him? God, this was fucking euphoric. Having the love of his life trying to ride both of his cocks, warm walls clenching tightly around his tips as you tried to go down lower.

Through his brain fog, he trailed one of his hands down to your cunt, gently using his thumb to rub small circles against your sensitive bud, making the pain fade more and more into pleasure as you let out a sigh of relief, bending your knees just a little bit more to take more of him.

“Ssssso good.” He whines out, throwing his head back as he tries his best not to accidentally buck his hips into you as you let yourself get used to the feeling, being stretched out so thin felt so good, but that didn’t change the fact that there was still that light stinging, and you ended your mental battle with dropping down completely, lurching forward with a sharp whine.

“g-godsss - ssso tight.” He mumbled out as he let you get used to the feeling, both of his cocks already throbbing for release inside of you. God, this might be heaven on earth, is all he could think - the feeling of you, tightly clenched around him, wet and needy, taking both of his cocks.

He didn’t even want redemption anymore. This was heaven.

#hazbin hotel x reader #hellaverse #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #sir pentious #snake man supremacy #hazbin hotel spoilers

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diedoverahat · 5 months

Note

Can you please please please write a smut FIC where reader and Mike is on the Night Shift and we end up thigh ridinggg!!!!

- ps we call him Mikey 😭😭😭

Body Language

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pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader

word count: ofc it's 1.9k+

warnings: nsfw 18+

authors note: hi anon! thanks so much for the ask, i had so much fun writing it! hope you love it! mwah <333

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“About time you finally show up.”

Were the first words Mike heard as soon as he walked into the security office of Freddy’s. He sighed loudly, shrugging his rain coat off to hang it on the back of the door.

"Don't start," he said gruffly.

Mike turned to face you, your body leaning against the opposite wall, arms crossed over your chest. You had a smug smile on your face. "I was starting to think you got too scared to come back."

Mike scoffed. "Don't get too excited," He deadpans. "I just had some trouble with the babysitter.”

You don't respond, only following him with your eyes as he walks over and sits down in the one office chair in-front of the monitors. Mike can tell you've been here for a while now, if the half-drunken water bottle and empty protein bar wrapper sitting on the desk is anything to go by.

He only just starts flipping through the different channels when you speak up again. "You're in my seat."

He doesn't look up from the screen when he replies. "You weren't sitting in it."

You scoff loudly, he can hear you push off the wall. The sound of your footsteps getting closer and closer as you walk toward him. "I was sitting in it for thirty minutes before you even got here."

"You sound like a child," He replies, swiveling around to face you. Your body is close enough to slightly loom over his seated form. "Just go get another chair from the dining room."

"No, I was here first. The comfy chair is mine," You press. "You go get a chair."

"Comfy chair" was definitely a stretch, the office chair was only slightly better than the dining chairs.

Mike stares at you for a moment before swiveling back to the monitors. "No." He says, completely dismissing you.

It's quiet for a moment, before you let out an exasperated sigh. "Fine." You state, with a small shrug before shoving between Mike and the desk and unceremoniously plopping down in his lap.

"What the fuck are you doing?" Mike asks loudly, raising his hands up to avoid touching you. You've already gone back to work, idly flipping through the monitors like this is normal.

"You won't move, so you have to share." You say simply.

Mike stares daggers at your back, slowly placing his hands on either side of the chairs arm rests. "You're crazy." He mutters, but the last thing he's going to do is get up and let you win this weird ass game you've decided to challenge him to.

He tries his best to ignore you, he really does, but after a while he can feel his heart start to beat ever so slightly faster. Mike's not proud enough to admit that you're definitely attractive. He'd always thought that, even though you drive him crazy 90% of the time. You have a gorgeous face, and an amazing figure. Of course he would never tell you any of this, you would never let him hear the end of it.

So he doesn't, but on his lonelier nights, he lets his mind run rampant with visions of you on your knees, mouth open and waiting for his release. Or you on all fours, moans pouring out of your mouth uncontrollably as he thrusts in and out of your dripping cunt, hitting the spot inside you that makes you light up like a Christmas tree. Or you on your back, hands gripping his hair so tightly because you can't handle how good his mouth feels sucking on your clit.

Those nights are becoming more and more frequent these days, and he can never refrain from shoving his hand down his sleep shorts and fisting his hand over his hard cock furiously until he ruins his boxers.

Mike's brought back from his thoughts running rampant in his head by the mortifying realization that currently, with you mere inches away from his crotch, he's hard as a rock. It's not helping that all he can see is your silhouette directly sitting in front of him. Your curves fully on display, in your form fitting shirt and tight jeans. He can't help the way his eyes scan down your body. Greedily raking from your shoulders to your waist that tapers down to the swell of your ass sitting pretty inches away from his growing bulge.

Worst of all, you just won't stop fidgeting. Tiny, unconscious movements that jostle Mike just enough to make him feel his dick scrape against the zipper of his jeans. All he can do is stare, sweating bullets basically white-knuckling the chair in order to stay still, scared to even breathe too deeply.

Then it all goes to shit in a matter of seconds. You knock the water bottle off the desk trying to switch monitors, and when you go to pick it up you scoot back just the tiniest bit, but it's enough to grind your ass directly over his dick.

Immediately Mike has his hands tight around your hips, jerking you back up into a sitting position as quickly as he can. His whole body going rigid against the chair in embarrassment, eyes wide and mortified.

You're still too, back sitting up straight as a board. He's waiting for you to say something, to laugh at him, but you're silent. There's an apology on the tip of his tongue, when suddenly you push the chair out from the desk, sending you and Mike flying backwards. In a flash, you flip to face him sitting directly over his thigh. Slotting your knee between his legs and the chair.

Your pupils are blown, eyes swallowed almost entirely by black. "How long?" You ask, softly. It takes Mike a second for your words to break through the fog clouding his brain, but he's just confused. He tilts his head to this side in question, not trusting his voice to sound anything but fucked.

"How long were you sitting here with this," You specify what you're saying by pushing your knee more firmly against his hard dick, making Mike's hands spasm on your hips and choke out a soft whine. "Before you planned on doing anything with it?"

Mike can do nothing but blink up at you slowly. You look almost predatory, staring at him so fiercely he swears you can see his soul. You still haven't moved, he can feel the warmth radiating between your legs against his thigh. His hands jerk almost unconsciously, trying to get you to grind forward. You smile, looking down at your position splayed over his lap and back up to his face.

"What do you want?" You ask sweetly. "Do you want me to move, Mikey?"

Your words hit him like a truck, he moans loudly, nodding his head frantically. "Yeah? You want me to move?" You ask again, tipping into his personal space, hands flat on his chest. You lean forward, breath puffing out over his ear.

"Move me then." You hiss, directly into his ear.

Mike lets out a guttural groan, eyes snapping shut tightly. He wants to, so badly but he just can't.

"Come on Mikey," You goad, your eyes glassy. "Move me."

Mike opens his eyes, looking down at his grip on your hips. Ever so slightly, he shifts you forward. Your eyes flutter closed, lips parting to let out a small moan. Turns out that's all the encouragement Mike needs. He grinds you backward before roughly dragging you forward again. It's absolutely lewd.

"Fuck, Mike." You say breathlessly, chin dropping down to your chest, going completely pliable in his hands letting him move you. He can only stare incredulously at you, beyond shocked that this is really happening. He's waiting to jolt awake home alone in bed with a soiled pair of boxers at any moment.

But he doesn't, you're actually here. Sitting on his lap grinding a wet patch into his jeans. Mike hardly knows what to do with himself. Your body is warm between his hands, alive in ways he never thought to be possible. "Jesus," He whispers to himself, sweat dripping down his brow. “Fuck…!” Mike grits out, wrenching his head up to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t look”

He feels you falter the slightest bit, hips slowing down a fraction. “Why not?” You ask softly, a hint of insecurity puncturing your tough exterior.

“It’s too much,” Mike admits breathlessly, chest rising and falling rapidly. “I can’t look or I’ll come in my pants.”

You let out a small shocked laugh, but it’s quickly drowned out by another moan. Your body trembles with pleasure. "Shit, faster…go faster," You mutter, taking it upon yourself to speed things up. Hips moving frantically on his thigh. Your knee is still slotted tightly to his now aching cock, he can feel every move you make. The friction feels amazing, it's taking everything in him not to hump up against your leg like a horny dog. The heat from your body feels scalding.

The absolute vision you make sends Mike's nerves quivering. He needs more. He brings his hands up to your face, tracing your bottom lip with his thumb gingerly. Your eyes open, looking back at him, not ceasing your movements.

"Can I?" He pants, hoping to god you understand what he's asking. It takes you a second, but eventually you nod. He tips forward and seals your lips with his. His fingers sliding into your hair to hold your head in place as he kisses you.

He takes control of the kiss, tongue brushing against your bottom lip. You part your lips willingly for him, letting his tongue explore your mouth. He greedily swallows your moans, groaning all the while.

You break the kiss first, only a string of saliva connects your lips before breaking under the pressure of gravity. Your lips are swollen and red, glossy from kissing.

“Oh god…” Your whimpers ghost over his lips, forehead resting on his. “Oh, god, Mikey…”

“Yeah,” Mike replies, voice deep and scratchy from lack of use, he rolls his hips up the tiniest bit. “Yeah that’s it…Fuck you look so pretty, so pretty for me.”

You nod, hips moving even faster than before, losing the rhythm you’d built up. Your hands fumble down to furiously unzip his hoodie, tearing the zipper down to reveal his plain white tank top underneath. Your hands greedily rake down his chest, nails brushing over his nipples making him whimper out moan.

“Fuck Fuck Fuck, Mike,” You whine, grip tightening into the meat of his chest. He can tell your close without you even saying it.

“Fuck yes, come, come on my thigh.” Mike begs, gripping your hips so tightly it could border on painful.

“Shit! Mikey, I’m gonna come,” Your eyes are screwed shut, sweat making your hair stick to your face.

“Do it.” He pleads, not taking his eyes off your face.

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” Mike can feel your nails digging crescent moons in his chest as you careen over the edge. Hips stuttering as you ride out your orgasm, he can almost feel the way your pussy trembles as you work yourself through the aftershocks, cut off little moans forcing their way out of your mouth. Your body finally gives out, tipping forward to lean on his chest, wet breaths puffing against his neck.

Mike follows suit, eyes dropping closed as he unloads into his boxer shorts making a second wet patch seep into his jeans. Hips twitching up every other second. He moans loudly into your hair, trying and failing to muffle his noises.

When you both come back down, it’s silent for a few moments as you both wrack your brains for what to say. As always, you’re the first one to speak up.

“So…” You say between panting breaths, he can feel you start to smile against his neck. “Same time tomorrow?”

Mike chuckles up at the ceiling, pinching your waist lightly.

“Fuck off.”

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taglist!

@ebodebo @yuenity @mfdxz

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sturniolos-blog · 2 months

Note

dad!matt but reader is struggling w an ed while going thru pregnancy..?

Eating disorder - Matt Sturniolo x Y/n oneshot

warnings - eating disorder (don’t read if you’re not comfortable,) throwing up, sad, fluff, self consciousness, insecurity, mentions of a handjob, slight arguing

disclaimer: first person POV

—————————

1:24pm

It was hard for me, to be pregnant and barely see her husband.

It was harder to see women he was friends with that was the definition of beauty.

All of it was hard.

As I stood at the kitchen island, staring at the to go box of food Matt had left for her before he’d gone to work.

I got this from Buffalo Wild Wings, I know you’ve been craving spicy stuff. Love you so much, baby(s) -Matt

The note read, I wanted to crack a smile, dive in to the food. But I couldn’t, my mind didn’t let me.

You’re not supposed to eat. You’re already gaining enough weight with the baby. Matt’s not gonna know, throw it out, pig.

My thoughts ran wild and mean. I didn’t particularly think i was a big person, I definitely wasn’t skinny but I also definitely wasn’t fat, maybe a couple pounds “overweight.” But the expectation nowadays want you to be perfect or else you’re not good enough.

I let out a sigh, picking the to go box up and bringing it to the trash, shoving the box in the bottom of the trash, knowing that if Matt saw the box in the trash he would freak.

—————————

8:48pm

The rest of the day consisted of me sleeping on the couch, or watching TV. Getting up to wipe counters and vacuum occasionally, but otherwise just not doing anything else. Not like being 7 months pregnant was easy.

I scrolled through the channels with a bored look on my face, my hand holding my head up as my elbow was propped on the arm of the couch.

The door opened and Matt came in, holding another bag of food, with a big smile plastered on his face.

I internally sighed, guilt already eating away at me.

“How are both my babies?” Matt laughed, taking his shoes off and placing the bag of food on the coffee table before kneeling on the couch over me and kissing me softly.

He pushed into the kiss a little more before pulling away with a big smile, “Hi, pretty girl.” He whispered.

There it was again, pretty. That word, was he saying that because I’m his baby mama? Is he saying that because he doesn’t want me to be insecure? Or is he saying that be-

“Hey..” Matt grabbed my chin, making me look at him as he sat down regularly on the couch. “You okay?”

I picked at my ear and nodded, “I’m fine.” I said, pulling my hand away from my ear.

Matt let out a laugh and shakes his head, “You pick at your ear when you’re nervous or lying, so what is it? Am i making you nervous or am i being lied to?” He taunted.

I scoffed, my hand going to pick at my ear again but i caught my self, placing my hand in my lap. “Sorry, i’m fine. This baby just keeps pushing on my bladder, speaking of I have to use the bathroom.” I let out a short laugh, struggling to get up.

Matt stood up and helped me, “Okay, well I got in n out because I know you’ve been craving burgers lately.” He said, kissing the side of my forehead.

I shook my head, picking my ear once again but this time he didn’t notice as he started taking the burgers out of the bag. “Uh- i actually made a sandwich like twenty minutes ago so i’m not really hungry.” I said nervously, picking at my fingers.

Matt nodded, “That’s fine, baby. Now go use the bathroom before we have another accident like last week.” Matt teased.

I let out a scoff, “Screw you! I told you I had to go but you insisted on me giving you a ha-”

“Okay! Okay, go.” Matt cut me off as he let out another laugh.

—————————

9:57pm

I lathered lotion on my hands as i stood in front of the mirror in Matt and I’s room, smearing some on my neck and chest.

Matt came in with his hair wet, shirt off with sweatpants, coming up behind me and kissing the back of my neck, then kissing my cheek. His hand going to my belly, squeezing softly.

I smiled before he pulled away starting to get into bed as I started to put some overnight cleanser on my face.

“You sure you’re not hungry, n/n? I know you get hungry later at night now.” Matt urged on as he got comfy under the sheets.

I shook my head, “No that salad I had really filled me up.” I laughed, starting to get into bed.

Matt gives me a weird look, “I thought you had a sandwich.” He points out.

Shit.

“I had a sandwich and a salad so i’m extra full, can we drop it?” I snapped, not meaning to but it just came out.

“Alright, alright.” Matt said as i climbed into bed.

I turned off the lamp, the room going silent.

“Can we cuddle?” Matt whispered.

I let out a sigh, putting my arms out for Matt.

He immediately crawled into my touch, his head going onto my chest as his hand rubbed my belly, a gesture i used to hate, because i was fat.

—————————

8:34am

I wake up slowly, letting out a soft groan as i open my eyes. I let out a hum as i turn my head, looking over to see Matt’s head on his pillow, his face towards me as he slept.

His pink lips were slightly parted as he continued to take slow, unconscious breaths.

He was laying on his stomach as his arm was draped right under my pregnant belly.

I smiled before slowly removing his arm. He let out a small hum before he started to wake up.

“Mm.. good morning.” Matt said with his sleepy, morning voice.

“Sorry.. i didn’t mean to wake you up.” I apologized as I stood up.

Matt shook his head, indicating it doesn’t matter. He then gives me a confused look, “Where are you going?” He said as he rubbed his eyes.

“Bathroom, I told you this baby of yours likes to push on my bladder.” I complained as i started to walk towards the bathroom.

Matt lets out a laugh.

“Shut up!” I yell as I close the bathroom door.

I do my business before standing up, standing at the sink to wash my hands.

My eyes glance down at the water as it runs through my fingers.

The water starts spinning.

I look up to look at myself in the mirror, but I was also spinning, i couldn’t keep focus.

Everything was turning around me as I stumbled and almost lost my buisness. My back hit the door harshly.

“Babe, you okay?” Matt calls out.

I swallow harshly as I try to gain my balance, I try to speak. “M-matt, i think i-”

Thump.

Everything went black.

—————————

10:32am

I slowly blink my eyes open, my body hurting as i regain my conscious.

I let out a groan as I look around, noticing that I was in a hospital room.

“Baby? Hold on, n/n. Wait.” I hear Matt’s voice tell me, putting a hand on my leg.

“What happened?” I croak out.

“Just uh- drink this, sweetheart.” He said, a harsher tone to his voice, putting a cup of water in front of my face with a bendy straw poking out of it.

I bring my lips to the straw, sucking slowly as i swallow, my dry throat getting moist from the water.

I watch as a doctor comes in the room, holding a tablet.

“Y/n! So good to see you awake. Now, let’s talk. I’m gonna ask you a couple questions and i need you to answer truthfully and with full honesty.” She says.

I rub my eyes and nod, moving to sit up, rubbing my head but immediately groaning in pain as i feel a wrap around it, assuming i hit my head when i passed out.

I grabbed Matt’s hand.

“Okay, do you know where you are?”

“Los Angeles Hospital.”

She nodded and smiled, “Good, good. Next, do you know what happened?”

I look away for a second, thinking. “I passed out. Everything got spinny and then went black.” I explained.

She nodded, “Y/n, have you ever suffered from an eating disorder?” She asks.

I look at Matt who’s face turned pale, i shook my head. “Never.”

Matt squeezed my hand.

“Okay, well, Y/n, do you know the reason you passed out?” The doctor asks me, her tucking her hair behind her ear.

I shook my head as I picked my ear. I hear Matt let out a scoff.

The doctor looks at Matt, “Is something wrong, Mr.Sturniolo?”

He shook his head and cleared his throat, standing up. “I’m just gonna go grab something from the vending machine, i’ll be back.”

I held onto Matt’s hand tighter, shaking my head. “Matt, please.” I whispered, my voice cracking slightly. I could tell something was wrong.

Matt clenched his jaw, looking at me before he nodded.

“Alright, Y/n, well the reason you passed out is because your labs show you haven’t eaten in a while, which is bad for a normal person, but even worse for a woman carrying a child. You see, your body is giving energy too two living beings, your food is shared, your sleep is shared, everything is shared. So when you don’t eat, it’s not just taking energy from you it’s taking energy from the both of you.” She explains.

“Oh, i just- i don’t- uhm-” I shake my head, not knowing what to say.

“Okay, i can give you two a minute or two to maybe talk and process, and then we can talk about things we have to make sure happens for the future and for your baby girl to be healthy.” The doctor says, walking out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Mat stands up and starts pacing the room as he bites his thumb nail.

“Matt-”

“Don’t!” He raises his voice. “You were struggling and you didn’t tell me? How could you do that to me? What are we even married for if you won’t tell me things like this?” He yells at me.

“Don’t yell at me! It’s not an everyday thing t-that you struggle with y-your body, a-and that you feel guilty everytime you take a bite of something! So d-do not come at me for not telling you that!” I yell back as my voice cracks.

A guilty look appears on Matt’s face, “I’m sorry. I just wish you would’ve told me. I want us to be able to tell each other things like this, we’re married, y/n. Married.”

I nod and sniffle, “I’m sorry.” I whisper out.

He shakes his head, putting his hand on my cheek as he kisses me softly. “It’s okay, just next time, please tell me.”

I nod and he kisses me again.

—————————

So this is the end hope you liked it idk why it took me so long i’m in another writers block like help anyway hope yall liked

taglist: @sturniolosmind @novasturniolo03 @hearts4chriss @vinniehackerslefttoe @christhopersturniolo @mattybswife @streamermattsgf @sturnolio-luvs

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo x you #spotify

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gimmethatagustd · 4 months

Text

delicate | pjm

After months of not talking to each other, Taehyung thinks he can charm his way into your life again. Thankfully, Jimin is there to help you work through your feelings.

○ Pairing: Jimin x f!reader (from Only Here To Sin)

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Established relationship, fluff, smut, pwp

○ Word Count: 3,987

○ Warnings: It's pretty much just porn, OHTS Taehyung strikes again!! he's annoying!!, mentions past sex with Taehyung, references toxic past relationships, consensual sex while under the influence of alcohol (just tipsy), using a tie as a blindfold, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, it's their first time together 🥹, I definitely didn't edit this (as usual, we post when we're done and we never look back)

○ Notes: This can be read as a standalone oneshot, but I recommend reading OHTS to get the full backstory~ and also because it's a disaster of a series, so it's kind of like watching a trainwreck. Don't judge me too much; I had no idea what I was doing when I wrote it. I still have no idea what I'm doing!

○ Post Date: December 16, 2023

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? Like Crazy - Jimin

You knew going out with Jackie was a mistake. Even more of a mistake was your agreement to go to this nightclub.

“Are you cold?”

Jimin’s arms snake around your waist and draw you against his chest, resting his chin on your shoulder. The light, minty scent of his toothpaste mixes with the floral notes of his cologne. Rather than overwhelm you, the smell grounds you and brings you into the present.

“I’m okay,” you mumble.

Jimin hums. You feel the sound vibrate from his throat against your shoulder and the side of your neck. He’s not convinced, and you know he isn’t.

“Want to go find your friends? I’ll order us drinks.”

You nod and reluctantly detach yourself from Jimin’s embrace. The poor bartender has far too many people crowding the counter. Jimin will have to wait a while; he’s too polite to cut in front of other customers.

The club isn’t big, but it’s packed. You feel like you’re clawing through the bodies swaying to the music with your head on a swivel to find your friends in the crowd. The last time you were at this club, you’d ended up in the bathroom with Taehyung’s fingers shoved inside you.

No. You are not going to think about that.

It has been five months. Five months of detoxing, of neatly packing away the hurt and confusion that Taehyung caused you and storing it in the attic of your mind. You’re a different person now. The person Taehyung manipulated and strung along was no more. And the most important part is that you’ve forgiven the person you used to be. It was too easy to be angry at yourself for your mistakes.

Unfortunately, that doesn’t mean you weren’t nervous about returning home for summer break. The memories and emotions triggered the moment you pulled into your parents’ driveway were enough to make you feel like throwing up. You’re lucky Jimin got time off from his music apprenticeship in California to visit you, or you may not survive the summer.

Dreary thoughts aside, you’re beginning to feel frustrated with your inability to find Jackie when you feel a warm hand slide into your palm and long fingers intertwine with yours.

“Hey, jagi.”

Despite the loud thrum of music, that smooth voice pierces through you sharply and clearly.

Taehyung’s cheeks shimmer pink with intoxication beneath his honey-toned skin. His hair is longer than when you last saw him. It falls into his eyes, obscuring them in a way that makes his already mystifying gaze all the more intimidating. They nearly glow in the pulsing club lights, sparkling with amusement.

“Miss me?” Taehyung tongues his cheek as his eyes take apart every inch of your body. “You look really good.”

How your stomach flutters with butterflies you’d thought were long gone makes you feel sick. You quickly rip your hand from Taehyung’s. You’d missed him, in the beginning, a little bit, but being with him had hurt you more than leaving him. It took making new friends to realize you’d missed companionship, not Taehyung. Now, you have far healthier friendships.

You can practically hear Alexis’s voice in your head, nagging you about toxic men like Taehyung.

“The worst thing a man can be is aware that he’s hot,” Alexis lectured you the first time you opened up to her about Taehyung. She wasn’t wrong.

“No, I did not.” The steadiness of your voice surprises you, though it shouldn’t. You’ve put in a lot of work to process your fucked up relationship with Taehyung. You can do this.

The smug look on Taehyung’s face doesn’t disappear, but that doesn’t surprise you.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were in town, jagi?”

“Why do you even think I would tell you?”

Before you can demand that Taehyung stop calling you by the inappropriate term of endearment, you feel lips brush against your temple.

“I gave up,” Jimin admits with an apologetic smile and empty hands. His eyes take in your crossed arms and rigid stance when you don't speak. With a frown, he follows your gaze to notice Taehyung finally. “Oh, sorry, hi. I’m Jimin, her boyfriend.”

You try to be kind, but you want to punch the smug look off of Taehyung’s face when he offers his hand to Jimin.

“Nice to meet you, Jimin-ssi. I’m Taehyung,” he introduces himself. “Her ex.”

Jimin is too polite for his own good. He shakes Taehyung’s hand with his head cocked to the side. His pink lips scrunch into a sideways pout, and his eyebrows are just as tense. It’s the look he makes while writing his Music Theory essays. (“Music is about feeling, Y/N! Why do I need to write papers about it?”) It isn’t anger or frustration but a struggle to understand.

All you can think about is that Taehyung called himself your ex. After the grief he’d given you for wanting to be more to him than a sexual conquest, it’s unfathomable that he could claim the two of you had dated.

“She’s told me about you,” Jimin finally states. You’re not sure what angle he’s going for. In all honestly, you’d love to melt into the floor and bypass this entire conversation.

“That’s cute.” Taehyung’s eyes twinkle with the sparkles of the disco ball rotating overhead.

“Hmm, I guess, if you think being an asshole is cute.”

You hope your gasp isn’t detectable. Both men continue staring at each other, so it’s hard to tell.

“Do you?” Taehyung grins, and you barely hide your shock when Taehyung blatantly checks Jimin out.

It’s the same predatory look he’s given you in the past that makes your heart flutter and heat blossom between your thighs. You find it odd to see the look directed at someone else, let alone at your boyfriend.

It’s also odd that you feel relieved when Jimin’s cheeks flush pink at the sudden attention. Somehow, Jimin’s reaction is the validation you need to remind yourself that you haven’t made anything up. Taehyung has this uncanny power to capture people’s attention and draw them into his clutches with a simple look. Seeing Jimin affected by Taehyung makes you feel better about falling into his trap. It doesn’t take away all the blame; you take full responsibility for your actions. But it helps knowing someone as strong as Jimin can be flustered by Taehyung, too.

“I do not, actually.” Jimin tightens his hold on your waist. The feeling of his warm hand on your hip keeps you out of your head. Grounded. Jimin always keeps you grounded.

“Unfortunately, that’s all Taehyung knows how to be,” you pipe up. Even if your snappy comment does nothing to remove the smug look on Taehyung’s face, you get satisfaction from voicing your thoughts regardless.

“If I remember correctly, you enjoyed that about me.”

You let out a long sigh. “Tae, what matters is that I’m not enjoying anything about this conversation right now.”

Jimin presses his fingers into your side, gently reminding you he’s there – as if you could ever forget his presence.

“Let’s go, Jimin.” You wrap your pinky around Jimin’s and tug. “I’m sure whoever Taehyung came with is looking for him.”

You don’t wait for a response from either man. You’re over the days of having men tell you what to do.

Two hours later, you’re thoroughly tipsy and stumbling into Jimin’s hotel room with sore feet and the sensation of cotton in your ears from the nightclub’s loud music. Never the type to be out all night, it didn’t take long for you to ask Jimin if you could head back to his hotel room. Although you succeeded in ensuring Taehyung didn’t ruin the night for you, partying isn’t your thing anyway.

Jimin, on the other hand, is still wired. He strips off his shirt and tosses it onto the couch before working on unbuckling his belt.

“What’s the name of that guy Jackie’s dating?” he asks with a huff like he’s out of breath. You watch him tug his belt from the loops and toss it onto the couch.

“Seokjin? Well, he goes by Jin.” Jin and Jackie. They’re an unlikely pair but cute.

“Yes! He’s so funny!” Jimin pushes his jeans down his thighs. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone take that make shots. And you know how my fraternity is.”

Following Jimin’s lead, you shimmy out of your dress. The hotel’s vents are blasting cold air, so you quickly sort through Jimin’s suitcase to find one of his oversized t-shirts and a pair of loose boxers to wear. The two of you have undressed in front of each other before, and you’ve even fooled around while naked, but nothing has ever gone beyond using your hands and mouths to get each other off. Jimin has been unbelievably gentle and kind with your desire to take your relationship slow. You’ve been dating for nearly half a year, and he hasn’t pressured you.

You know it’s basic decency to respect someone’s boundaries, but considering the relationships you’ve had in the past, this is a big deal for you.

Not ready to sleep yet, Jimin sits in the bed and reaches for you with grabby hands and a slight pout. He looks adorable with his fluffy blonde hair. You’re not sure you can deny him anything, honestly.

“We probably should have had more water,” Jimin points out as you climb into his lap. Heat radiates from his bare chest, prompting you to snuggle against his skin to absorb some of that warmth for yourself.

“I’m fine.”

“You’re talking with this cute little slur.”

“I am not!”

Okay, maybe you are, but you’re not drunk. You’re just tipsy enough to feel loose in your limbs, light in your head, and hot in your core. Biting your bottom lip, you shift to straddle Jimin’s lap. The blankets pool around your waist, and Jimin’s hands naturally rest on your bare thighs.

Jimin lets you lift his chin so his head is tilted to look at you.

“Are you okay?” His hold on your hips is light but sturdy.

“I want you.”

Jimin’s eyes flutter closed when your lips brush against his neck. You suck at the soft skin where his jaw meets his throat while you thread your fingers through his blonde waves. When you nestle your fingers into the roots, you gently tug his hair.

A low groan rumbles from Jimin’s chest. His grip on your waist tightens, and the sensation causes your body to shudder.

“Are you sure?” He opens his eyes when you pull back from his neck, but you’re focused on the dark, reddish-purple bruise you’ve left on his skin. “I don’t want you to feel like you need to do anything after running into–”

“No.” Your response is curt, probably sharper than Jimin expects if his widened eyes are anything to go off of. “Taehyung doesn’t have any influence over me anymore, Jimin. This is just me wanting you, okay?”

It’s true; Taehyung has nothing to do with your desire for Jimin. Maybe if he does have some ounce of influence over the situation, it’s only because you feel empowered and emboldened after standing up to him. That, mixed with the alcohol, is giving you a sense of invincibility. It’s confidence that you might lose by the night's end, but you’re willing to ride the wave for as long as you can.

None of this is anything you’ll regret in the morning. If anything, you’ll be thankful for the opportunity to prove to yourself and everyone else that you’re ready to take on the things you’ve once feared.

Accepting your reassurances, Jimin nods. He runs a hand up your spine, stopping at the base of your head to cup your neck.

“Can I just say something first?”

His question makes your stomach flip, but you force yourself to maintain eye contact while you nod. You tend to get nervous with him when you’re intimate. There’s nothing wrong with Jimin; he’s kind and attentive. It’s your bad experiences with sex that make you hesitate. There’s too much pressure to perform well.

“You always get really nervous,” Jimin starts slowly, rubbing his palms up your thighs. “And I was trying to think of a way to help you relax.”

Shame burns your cheeks because you feel like this isn’t something Jimin should have to do. It’s pathetic, isn’t it? Why can’t you handle sex without getting so stressed out over it?

“Okay…” you prompt him to continue, though you aren’t sure if you want him to.

“Would you be willing to try something? I promise if you don’t like it, we can stop.”

If it were anyone else, you’d be scared of Jimin’s question, but you find it relatively easy to agree to whatever plan he has – albeit nervously.

Careful not to jostle you too much, Jimin maneuvers you off his lap and goes to his suitcase. It takes a few seconds for him to find what he’s looking for, but when he faces you again, you feel your heart flutter.

In Jimin’s hands is a silk black tie, which he keeps for special occasions – such as the dinner he attended with you and your parents when he first arrived in your hometown for the summer. It looks good on him, especially when he loosens it and lets it hang haphazardly around his neck.

Despite your limited sexual experience, it’s clear that he won’t be the one wearing it tonight. Approaching the bed, Jimin instructs you to sit back with your legs spread so he can kneel between them.

“You trust me?” he whispers. When you nod, he reaches behind your head to secure the tie so that it covers your eyes. “Let me know if it’s uncomfortable, and I can redo it.”

“It feels okay.” Strange, but okay.

You can’t see anything, so you keep your eyes closed. Rather than become even more nervous about the unknown of the darkness, you find that it’s actually relaxing. So often, you let negative thoughts ruin intimacy with Jimin, preventing you from moving forward in your relationship. Somehow, being blindfolded empties your mind until all you can think about is how you imagine what Jimin looks like while he touches you.

You let Jimin guide you to lie flat on your back. With your most prominent sense taken away, you focus on your others to tell you what’s happening. Jimin is slow as he slips his hands beneath the hem of your shirt to push it up your torso.

“Can I take this off?” His breath is hot against the side of your neck, and you feel the bed shift when he hovers above you.

“Yes,” you reply, barely above a breathy whisper.

Once Jimin has removed your shirt, his body heat disappears. You don’t panic, but you feel lost without his touches there to ground you. That is, until you feel something wet flick across your nipple.

“Oh, god,” you moan when Jimin wraps his lips around your nipple and gently sucks.

His tongue is hot and sloppy as it swirls around the bud until it’s perky and hard. Satisfied with his work, Jimin attaches his plush lips to your other nipple and repeats the same action.

You arch your back, pushing against his mouth. Jimin wraps his arms around your waist to press his palm to the small of your back, further pulling you into him. The darkness heightens your sense of touch, making each hot swipe of Jimin’s tongue and the graze of his teeth against your skin even more tantalizing. Your pussy throbs with how wet and hot you’re growing just from this alone.

“Jimin,” you whimper.

His fingers hook around the edge of your borrowed boxers. “Can I take these off, too?”

You nod your head quickly and lift your hips to make it easier for Jimin to pull his boxers off of you.

“So pretty…”

You let out a high moan when you feel the pads of Jimin’s fingers brush against your entrance. He gathers your arousal and smears it over your lips and clit. You can hear the squelch the wetness makes when he dips his fingers inside of you just enough to gather more of the sticky mess. Your wet skin goes cold, and you can tell Jimin has blown air on you.

“I’m going to eat you out, okay?” Jimin punctuates his question with a tiny flick of his tongue against your pussy.

“Please, fuck, please,” you want to cry and try to push your hips against where you think his face is, but his hands hold your hips down.

“I will, I will.”

Jimin laughs, airy and gentle, before pushing his tongue further between your lips to flick your clit. He repeatedly sucks on your clit, swirling his tongue around the sensitive skin while his lips envelop you.

Your skin is blazing from the heat of his heavy breathing and how his touch makes you burn. Every suck of your clit makes you gush between your thighs. You can imagine Jimin staring up at you with dark eyes as he eats you out, humming into your pussy with satisfaction.

You arch into his face when you feel pressure at your entrance again, and Jimin slips two fingers into your pussy. He thrusts them in and out, hooking them to press his fingers against your front wall to find the spot he knows so well that makes you squirm.

“Fuck,” he groans into your dripping pussy. Turning his head to the side, Jimin brushes his mouth against the inside of your thigh. His lips are soaked and sticky.

You rock against his hand as he fingers you, letting out little “ah ah ah’s” with each thrust against your front wall. You feel like you’re on fire, like every breath will ignite your body, make you combust.

“Please, Jimin, please.” You never thought you’d be the type to beg, but you’re so desperate to cum that it’s embarrassing. “I’m going fucking crazy, please.”

You try not to compare Jimin to Taehyung; you really try. But it’s hard not to, especially when Jimin gives you the best head you’ve ever had. Foreplay has never lasted this long before. You can’t tell if it’s a blessing or a curse.

“Ready for me?” It’s both hard to hear and so fucking hot when Jimin asks the question into your pussy.

It’s disorienting when Jimin uses his clean hand to pull his tie off your face. You blink a few times to adjust to the light, belatedly realizing neither of you ever turned it off. While some people like intimacy in the dark, you and Jimin always keep the lights on. It’s nice to look at it other; it feels more intimate.

You switch positions, allowing Jimin to sit against the headboard and have you straddle his lap like you were before.

“Ride me first, okay?” Jimin whispers in your ear when he takes your arms and wraps them around his shoulders. “I want to see your face when you take my cock for the first time.”

Your pussy flutters, and you’re not sure if you’ll be able to survive taking his cock if his words are enough to create a reaction in you that makes your knees weak.

“Oh, oh,” you whimper as Jimin sits against the bedframe. “Okay.”

“Look at me.”

And you do. You stare into those narrowed, sultry eyes as you line his cock with your entrance, one hand squeezing his shoulder to help you lean at the correct angle. The stretch is quite easy despite your previous concerns about taking Jimin fully. It should have been obvious; you’re so drenched that you slide down on his cock so smoothly that you want to fucking die.

You know what you’re doing, having had plenty of experience riding Taehyung in the past. It’s different this time, of course. Jimin never takes his eyes off yours as you bounce on his cock. His hands squeeze your hips to guide you up and down his cock, encouraging you to lift until only the head of his cock is nestled in your pussy before sliding back down his entire length. You’re so wet that Jimin’s thighs glisten with your arousal, as do yours.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jimin says with a soft smile.

“Oh my god,” you squeeze his shoulders as you rock against him, “You’re, you’re cuter.”

“Whatever you say, baby.” Jimin rolls his eyes and presses a kiss to your forehead.

He’s so cute, even as your pussy sucks in his cock and clenches around it. How is it possible for him to seem so innocent in a moment like this? It makes your heart swell with a love you’re worried you’ll never be able to fully articulate to the precious boy beneath you.

“Feels good,” you moan against his mouth when you lean forward to kiss him. “I’m gonna cum already.”

Jimin sucks your bottom lip at the same time he slips his hand between your bodies to start rubbing your clit. The two points of pleasure cause you to slump forward, but luckily, Jimin takes over. He thrusts into with swift, strong movements, never stuttering even when you can tell that he’s nearing his orgasm, as well.

There’s no shame in not lasting very long. You’re both a little bit drunk and extremely horny. The buildup to this moment is almost a climax all on its own. Neither of you can be blamed for how frantically you claw at each other and do your best to grind against each other’s bodies as hard and fast as you can.

“Come on, baby,” Jimin groans into the crook of your neck as he fucks you. “We can cum together, okay? Let go for me so we can make each other feel good.”

“Oh, Jimin, y-yes, fuck, okay.” You nod your head and pant your words against the curve of his ear. Needing something to hold onto, you dig your fingers into Jimin’s hair.

Jimin always knows the right things to say and finds a way to ease your stress and ground you. He talks you through your orgasm and holds you close as you cum. It’s erotic, but it feels gentle and intimate. Rather than dirty talk, it feels sweeter and more caring.

Even when Jimin finds his release, coming in you with a brutal grip on your waist, he whispers soft words of gratitude because he sees fucking you as a privilege – not a challenge to be won.

When it’s over, you melt into Jimin’s embrace, chest to chest, with your head resting against his shoulder. You’re both sweaty and sticky, but it doesn’t matter. All you want to do is be close and be held.

“How are you doing?”

You nod, unable to find the words to express how utterly content you feel. Not just content – you feel cared for, even when all you’ve done is fuck. It’s different with Jimin. It’s gentle. It means something.

“Did the tie help?” he asks, curious and wanting to have done a good job coloring his tone. It’s sweet, just like all of Jimin.

“It did,” you finally speak up. Turning your head to the side, you press your lips against Jimin’s neck and speak to his warm skin. “It helped me get out of my head, so all I focused on was you and how you made me feel.”

“Good?”

You smile with your eyes closed when you feel him kiss your forehead. “You always make me feel good.”

Jimin squeezes you in his arms, content with humming a happy reply against the top of your head. No other words need to be said; for now, the two of you bask in the warmth you bring each other and know that whatever the morning brings, you’ll always have safe arms to fall back into.

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#bts fanfic #jimin x reader #bts x reader #jimin fanfic #jimin smut #jimin fluff #bts fluff #bts smut #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #ohts #delicate

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iwritefandomimagines · 1 year

Text

SAY THAT AGAIN — JAMIE TARTT

masterlist

pairing: jamie tartt x fem!reader

description: the press have hounded you and jamie ever since your relationship was made public — his reputation leading them to constantly claim he’d cheated or just flat out didn’t deserve you. when a player on the opposing team makes a comment to rile him up… he takes the bait.

warning: swearing as usual, angry jamie to v soft fluffiness when he sees you. hurt/comfort reassurance vibes :-)

author’s note: that gif… no thoughts head empty !!! had to write this. hope you enjoy.

Jamie had been doing so well at keeping his temper down since he had been with you.

Something about you was like home to him — he was calm, relaxed, and most himself when he was with you, and everyone who knew him could see it.

If only the press saw it though.

There was never a dull day in the press regarding your relationship. Always some pathetic story in print about him not being good enough for you, or insinuating that he would cheat on you sooner or later, or already had.

Still, you tried your hardest not to acknowledge it or let it get to you both. Everything was good. You loved each other, and that’s all that mattered.

You made him happy and he made you happy, and whether or not other people cared enough to believe that meant absolutely nothing to you.

You were proudly seated up front in the stands for today’s Richmond game, a beaming smile on your face as Jamie scored an equaliser just 2 minutes after the opposing team went 1-0 up.

You cheered, blowing a kiss as his eyes briefly met yours amidst his celebration.

In the chaos of him celebrating, you noticed a player shove at his side — someone on the other team who you didn’t really recognise.

“You don’t deserve her,” he’d spat as he barged past him, “I bet I could show her a real good time.”

Jamie had been working so hard to control his temper on the pitch.

He knew you hated to see him so riled up, and with you around it generally did take him much more to get angry enough to kick off.

But here, he drew the line.

Being shoved, being shouted at, being fouled… He could handle that.

But talking about your relationship when the bloke knew absolutely nothing about you? Fuck that.

Furious, Jamie turned around and followed the player as he walked away, “Go on, say that again.”

“I said, you don’t deserve her and I could show her a much better time than you, dickhead. What? Mad that I’m right?”

Jamie snapped, elbowing the player away from him, watching the smirk fall from his face as he fell to the ground.

He was definitely exaggerating the pain he was in, but Jamie didn’t care. He knelt down to his side, pretending to reach out his hand to help him up.

You were watching intently, confused at why both players seemed to keep snapping their eyes up at you between frosty exchanges.

The commentators grumbled about what was going on, too, unsure about the delay in getting back to the game because they had no idea what the provocation for this little fight even was.

As his opponent took his hand to be helped up, Jamie leaned in closer to his face with a deep-set expression of anger.

“Don’t you fucking dare talk about Y/N like that ‘cause she wouldn’t go near you mate. Fuck off, you disrespectful little prick.”

He yanked him up, and as soon as he was on his feet Jamie turned to walk away, but not before both players received a yellow card from the referee for whatever the fuck had just happened.

—

“What was all that about, baby?”

Your voice was soft, not accusatory. You never were, but it still hurt Jamie to have done anything that might remotely make you think badly of him.

You placed both hands on his shoulders, rubbing your thumbs over his collarbones to soothe him as your eyes twinkled up at his.

“I’m sorry I kicked off,” Jamie frowned at you as you ran your palms over his arms and looked up at him, “I wasn’t gonna, but, he started talking about you and… I just saw red.”

You bit your lip, unsure whether to ask him what was said or whether to focus on calming him down.

“Whatever he said, it doesn’t matter, J,” you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, “I’m here. And I love you. And you still scored twice, he played like absolute shit.”

“He did, didn’t he,” he smirked for a second, before shaking his head and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in for a proper kiss, “Thanks, babe. I love you too. I wanted to ignore him but there’s only so many times people can tell me you deserve better before I start to wonder if they’re right.”

As much as it hurt you to see him so vulnerable, you loved how honest he was with you. The growth you’d seen in the famously egotistical fuckboy Jamie Tartt was crazy, and to get to love him was the greatest privilege.

“They’re not right though, not at all,” you whispered, “You’re Jamie fucking Tartt. And I don’t just mean the player, I mean you. You make me so proud to be your girlfriend Jamie, and whatever those pricks have to say about you, about us… Please don’t listen.”

His lashes fluttered as he blinked down at you, and you could see that he was starting to get emotional.

“When I’m on the pitch, I know I’m the best fuckin’ player there,” he shrugged, “But when it comes to you… That confidence disappears. I’ve never cared this much about wanting to be good enough for someone, but, like, you’re too good for me. And everyone else can see it but you.”

You shook your head vigorously at him, moving your hands to his face desperately, “That’s not true, Jamie. Like I said, I’m yours and that’s the way it’s going to stay. So you’d better start believing you’re good enough, okay? Because you are.”

He dipped his head to kiss you again, this time a much more feverish and desperate kiss.

“Now c’mon, big shot,” you tried to lighten the conversation, knowing that it would only go in circles, “I think I owe my boyfriend a celebratory meal for scoring twice and defending my honour.”

You kissed his nose, pulling back from the kiss and hooking your arm in his, and as you leaned your head on his shoulder you felt his muscles relax.

“I love you.”

“I love you more.”

—

INSTAGRAM

liked by samobisanya, masonmount and 12,386 others.

y/n: so fucking proud of you jamietartt, as always. i’m so lucky to love you and watch you do what you love every day, and i’ll never get tired of it. so many idiots think they know you and know us and know best about our relationship — but fuck ‘em. it’s me that doesn’t deserve you, and i’ll spend every day grateful that theeee jamie tartt is all mine (yes, thesun, all mine.) btw otherplayer, you’ll never be jamie tartt. x

jamietartt: ❤️❤️❤️

roykent: even i teared up at this.

tedlasso: aren’t you two just the darned sweetest!

———

thank you for reading !!! i included the insta post as a lil cute extra and i want to apologise for jamie being a lil ooc here but i wanted cute fluffiness at the end hahah and jamie deserves all the love in the world.

i’m getting through your requests don’t you worry, and if you have more feel free to send them my way. in the meantime, here is my masterlist!

#jamie tartt x y/n #jamie tartt imagine #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x reader #ted lasso #ted lasso imagine #ted lasso imagines

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venoti · 1 year

Text

You fell first, but they fell harder.

Super Mario edition

Summary: You couldn’t help but like them, even as they laughed or scoffed by those feelings. But soon enough they fell head over heels for you, deeper than expected

Characters: Donkey Kong, Princess peach, and bowser.

GN reader

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

Donkey Kong, The stubborn ape.

When he noticed that you liked him, He just laughed in the thought.

I mean, who wouldn’t like someone as awesome as him?

He took it to the test teasing you like a asshole, you just shoved his face away as he snickered like a monkey.

I mean you were only a visitor to the kingdom, soon fighting along side him.

With first impression he thought of you as a softy, I mean a fighter? No way! You just seemed so small compared to him.

It was till the first time going against him in the Kong arena. He felt cocky, already knowing how it will turn out,Him winning as the crowd called his name.

..till waking up with you on top of him as people cheered your name in the arena.

You soon tilt your head at him as he came to realization. “This is awkward..” He muttered as you grinned on top of him.

“I’ll tell them you let me win, just this once” You laughed tapping his chest before standing up.

But he grew so fond of you by that small gesture. How can someone be so cool? Aside from him He almost forgot about the fact that he lost just by how flushed he was.

After that he became more.. interested?

But if anything he didn’t know how to react around you. Everything you did was so memorizing? He didn’t know why.

But it was one night, he stayed up with you in his mind again. .. y/n.. just your name was a game changer, but he soon realized something as he jumped up. “I like them!?” He yelled as his neighbors just whined irritated as he woke them up.

But It was a total shock for some reason? Since then he would always try and impress you, “Look” here “Did u see —“ that.

It was constant, even as most of the time you weren’t impressed. But you compliment him no matter, and he lived for it! Just your words brought a smile to his face as he had a boost in confidence.

Every single thing as simple as a hello was something he adored. Even how small you were to him, he definitely tried to carry you more than once.

It was only a matter of time before he confessed, even as you probably knew already. He first asked his dad for advice.

—

“I think I might confess to y/n finally..” He randomly said, while visited his dad as always. The king only choked on his banana before looking at him.

“You guys are not dating already?!”

Peach, the princess of the mushroom kingdom.

You were one of first humans she met, and by that matter she was slightly oblivious to knowing when someone liked her. She only found out when toad said something..

She was held back, but in the moment she finally caught the hints you left.

“Ohhh.. that makes sense now..!” she slightly laughed. But she wanted to be sure, I mean, isn’t this a big thing?

So she started being more helpful with you, help you shop, train, and anything else. You didn’t mind as you just allowed her.

And then she noticed the change you have with her compared to others. It kind of stuck to her mind as she tried to shake it off.

But she hadn’t yet acknowledged you, you were always just a person in her kingdom for now. But it was till you had to be tested on your training.

Yes, it’s only been a few days and you guys barely practiced, but better now then never she thought!Even as she knew this would take a long time, she watched every movement, Or so she thought this would take time.

Her plain face was soon shocked. You beat it in ease!? No trouble at all! Even as she did the same, it was surprising coming from you.

What made her laugh most was when you said, “Is this a pre-test, princess?” Your confidence never failed to make her smile.

But it was when she started to see you as something more, a side kick, a friend or a.. never-mind!

When going on your guys first adventure it was just a small trip for resource as the kingdom was running out. It was supposed to be as simple as pie, but no! An ambush.

It was a good ending of course, but peach was distracted by how.. majestic you looked fighting? Or just overall..!

She didn’t believe she could like someone over skill.. but she didn’t know why she liked you actually. You just have the most beautiful face for another human, she knew you must’ve been popular like that.

Every morning she waited for your usual hello, it was like the sun to her morning. Your simple smile was something she could stare at. Your random face movement were so funny. She just couldn’t help but poke at it making you slightly flush.

Oh and a lot of gifts. She likes to show her affection by bringing you constant stuff.

She can remember when you were almost a nobody, to in her mind all the time.

When did she get so attached to something other than her kingdom?

All she knew was she wasn’t ready to call love, but neither would she hold back the chance to hold your hand.

“Are you flirting princess?” You randomly said, it distracted her for a second before she responded.

“Hm? What! Oh!? ..no? Am I?” She lightly flushed as if she embarrassed herself.

Bowser, king of the dark lands.

You were unlucky enough to stumble to his land, being caught by his army. He had no business with you just leaving you chained in the dungeon. God you hated it. How unlucky were you..?

It became endless boredom till you were suddenly brought up from the cage. You were tied headed towards the throne of the king. Oddly enough you were quite interested by his looks, how awkward..

But neither did he care.

“We needed a new leader for the army, why bring this weak link?” He groaned irritated as the soldiers started arguing with each other.

“I’m not weak..” You muttered, not expecting him to hear you. He just raised his head as he was fidgeting with his claws.

“If your not weak then your starting tomorrow. Let’s see how fast you’ll die” He laughed before sending you off.

Fuck.

You had no impressive skills, almost average. But it wasn’t noticed on how quick you learned from the moment of practice field.

He just expected you to be the same, weak. He didn’t mind the sacrifice of entertainment.

But before the fight he brought up all the soldiers for a speech. But he found out your different attitude towards him, you were fond of him? He scoffed not letting those feelings bother him.

But it was time for battle, he mainly went along to see how you did. But believe it or not, his smirk of death disappeared seeing you easily fight off. Maybe you were useful?

He brought you up as you were now officially apart of the team, the first human. Yay..?

You didn’t really know history as you got there within the same fate as the Mario brothers. You just went along with it, happy to be alive.

But as time went on, bowser never knew such fun till you, maybe you were also as enjoyable.

Before he knew it he started to get jealous about you, how are you laughing with those buffoons? He came to thought, but he soon realized it himself. There’s no way I feel this for them..

He was shocked, very needy for a king. You were almost always near him, even with training. Seeing you happy brought the same smile to himself surprisingly.

As much as you were also cocky made him even more attracted. “Wow..” he could only mutter when your around.

How can the lowlife of his past peasant became someone so dear?

But he didn’t care anymore, except he wanted you to be his. And he knew nothing about the confessing part. Should he be straight forward? Slow? Too many options..

So he first went to his magikoopa, bringing him for a piano practice.

“So.. you know y/n right?” He says side eying the koopa.

“Why yes sir, is something wrong?”he started to slightly worry.

“Oh nothing like that..” he said in a intimidating voice but it slowly changed softer as he finished the piano song. “How would I..erm.. confess to them?”

The koopa was slightly stunned before clearing his voice. “Oh Ho Ho, you can trust me with that”

⋆┈┈｡ﾟ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ❁ུ۪ ❃ུ۪ ❀ུ۪ ﾟ｡┈┈⋆

AN: this was so fun to make! I love each of them with my whole heart as they are so fun to write.

Thank you for reading! I take any feed back thank you <3

#x reader #gender nuetral reader #super mario #super mario movie #donkey kong #bowser #princess peach #donkey kong x reader #bowser x reader #princess peach x reader #super mario x reader #super mario movie x reader

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laurfilijames · 9 months

Text

Happy Birthday, Darlin'

Pairing: Jax Teller x female reader

Words: 4,014

Warnings: Rated E, 18+. Swearing. Smoking. Mild descriptions of cuts and blood. Mentions of fighting. Unprotected intercourse. Slight asphyxiation. Some insecurities about Jax and his habits.

Summary: It's your birthday, and while Jax is pressed to make it to you in time to celebrate, he makes sure all your wishes come true.

A/N: Happy Birthday to ME 🥳 yes, I'm that bitch who wrote herself a birthday fic because I can. I've been dying to write for Jax for so long and thought this would be a fun way to get a feel for writing his character. If my writing wasn't self-indulgent before, it definitely is now.

This takes place after Season 2 Ep 12 The Culling where the Sons fight The League/Zobelle's guys because I just found Jax to be wildly sexy in that scene (but also when isn't he?)

---

The night air was cool on his face as he ripped as quickly as he could down the quiet, country roads back into town, easily shifting into fourth gear knowing every cop in Charming would be responding to where he just fled from and not having to worry about being pulled over for his excessive speed.

Jax knew he was pushing it for time - your birthday over in just less than two hours - so with a reminder of his bruised and bloodied knuckles, he twisted the throttle and opened up his Harley even more in order to get to you faster.

With a smile on his face at knowing your neighbours already complained about his presence on your street, he let open again on the straight section of road about half a mile from your house, hoping you and everyone else would now be fully aware of his arrival.

The fight with Zobelle’s gang already had him fired up, but not nearly as much as getting to see you did, and as he pulled into your driveway, his buzzing fury changed into a different kind of energy entirely.

Taking one last haul on the cigarette hanging out of his mouth, he blew out the smoke and tossed it onto the asphalt, stepping on it with a twist of his dusty shoe as he unbuckled his helmet.

Jax glanced up to see the dim, warm light of a lamp in your living room, smiling to himself again that you were still awake and no doubt waiting for him as he took his backpack off his shoulders and unzipped the main compartment.

Relieved the box didn't get smushed, he pulled out the still perfectly preserved cupcake and dug in his pocket for the single candle he stuck in there earlier, bringing his lighter out with it along with another cigarette.

He placed the fresh smoke between his lips, not paying any attention to the cut stinging on his lip where it rested, focusing on sticking the candle in the center of the cupcake and lighting it. With the pink candle set ablaze, he brought his lighter to the end of the cigarette and inhaled as it burned the paper, shoving the Zippo back in the inside pocket of his cut before carefully making his way up the steps to your front door with his free hand blocking any wind made by walking from blowing out the tiny flame.

He grunted quietly to himself when he knocked on the door, his hand more sore than he thought it was after punching Weston's face in so many times, muttering to himself when he realized he was getting blood on the side of the cupcake from a split on his other hand.

"Ahh, shit," he sighed, knowing he didn't have enough time to try to clean anything up when he heard your footsteps coming to answer. He pulled the cigarette out of his mouth and quickly forced the smoke out with a deep blow, waving his hand so it wouldn't be in your face when you opened the door.

An automatic smile formed on his lips as soon as he laid eyes on you, leaning against the doorway in nothing but your panties and his white reaper crew t-shirt that he left the last time he was over, his voice hoarse as he started singing.

"Happy birthday to you," he began, taking a step through the entrance. "Happy birthday to you," he continued, getting right close to you until your faces were inches from each other, his eyes flickering over your shy, but happy features as his gesture made you flush all over.

"Happy birthday, darlin'. Make a wish."

You tucked your bottom lip between your teeth, looking from his intensely blue eyes down to the candle in front of you, and blew it out.

"What'd you wish for?"

"I'm not supposed to tell, Jax."

He smirked, leaning even closer to you so his lips were hovering over yours, "Then I'll have to guess."

His kiss tasted like smoke, but you didn't care, craving the nicotine that transferred from his mouth to yours like you were addicted to the habit itself, deepening the kiss by arching into him as if you were never able to get enough.

Jax walked forward, guiding you further into your house, the sound of the door closing lost on both of you as he kicked it shut behind him and eventually broke your kiss.

"I didn't think I was going to get to see you today," you whispered, your lids heavy with lust when you looked up at him.

"Yeah, well, I skipped out early to come give my girl her gift." He held up the cupcake and let you take it from his hand, watching your expression change to confusion as you noticed the blood stained on the side of it.

"Is that your blood?"

"50/50 chance," he laughed, swiping his finger through the icing before licking it clean.

“Should I even ask?”

“Probably not.”

You began taking in the deepening colours of purple and red on his cheek, the cut on his lip and the ones that flawed his hands, the concern you felt taking away from the joy in having him there.

“Is this why you're late?” you questioned, your fingertips ghosting over his cheek and down to his lip.

“So you were expecting me, then," he winked, his smugness always managing to outshine anything else, forcing you to roll your eyes at him.

He kissed you again, plucking the cupcake out of your hand and placing it blindly over on the hall table where you kept your keys and purse, his hands reaching up to cradle your face.

"I should report you for theft, you know," he warned, pausing to take a breath, nodding down at his shirt that hung loosely on your body.

"I think of it more as safe keeping until the owner comes back to claim it," you challenged, your eyebrows raising to show your displeasure in it being too many days that had turned into weeks since he was last here.

"Hey, at least I didn't miss your birthday," he objected, trying his best to defend himself, his head tilted while his eyebrows rose to crease his forehead.

You backed away from him, turning to walk through to the kitchen, looking back over your shoulder.

"And how many other birthday's did you celebrate in the meantime?"

"Oh, come on," he laughed frustratedly, your accusation making him look up at the ceiling. "You know it isn't like that."

You nodded slowly in silent agreement, trying not to let your insecurities and jealousies get the better of you.

He sighed loudly, waiting for a moment before following you, his voice raising slightly to make sure you heard from down the hallway.

"You're the only one I always come back to. The one I want to be inside every night."

Hearing his footsteps coming toward you, you closed your eyes and breathed out, terrified of the hurt he could cause but realizing you were being hurt every time regardless.

His voice was near and softer now that he was in the kitchen with you, making your heart pound faster in your chest even though he seemed so calm.

"You gotta stop pushing me away."

It was safer that way; always keeping him at an arm's length, never wanting to get your heart involved when you knew what he was like and how many beds he ended up in. Jax Teller could have any woman he wanted; more charm in him than all of Charming, a simple crooked grin or nod as he strutted past enough to seal the deal, and not one person could say he wasn't successful in his endeavors.

Despite it all, you wanted him, but kept it casual enough to get a taste of what you needed, having said to both yourself and him on more than one occasion over the years that nothing more would ever happen as long as his habits remained the same, and you weren't about to ask a man like him to change.

He came up to you, his hands holding your waist, his lips peppering across your shoulder and dangerously close to your neck. You closed your eyes again and sighed, relishing in the sensation while praying he didn't do the one thing you always told him not to.

But Jax always did whatever the fuck he wanted.

He kissed up along your neck, making you moan and breathe deeper, trying to keep some sort of resolve.

"Jax, you know my rule," you pleaded, feeling your entire body ignite to his lawlessness.

"Remind me what that is again?" he lied, continuing to kiss and suck your neck, knowing damn well what it was.

You shivered, feeling yourself slipping away and quickly becoming willing to do anything he asked or all the things you really wanted to do; the way he kissed your neck was your kryptonite and weakness and the one thing you always prevented in order to save yourself, fearing you would reveal exactly how you felt about him anytime he lingered there.

"Jax…"

He stopped, grabbing your chin to force you to look at him, his eyes dancing back and forth with yours as he looked at you seriously.

“I'm done playing. I want this," he said pointedly, speaking with surety.

You let go of the breath you were holding, still questioning whether to trust him regardless of how convincing he was right now.

Taking hold of your cheeks again, he smoothed his thumbs back and forth across them, an honesty and pleading present in those clear blues that made you lose yourself every time.

Before you could argue or plead your case, he crashed against you, inhaling deeply like he was trying to suck all the air out of your lungs, his tongue probing deep into your mouth to tangle with yours.

There was no sense in trying to hold back now, done with pretending for as many years as you had, the whine that passed from your mouth to his signaling your surrender.

The metallic taste of blood mixed with tobacco teased your tastebuds with each kiss, increasing your hunger to taste more of him while your body displayed those needs and your hands roamed frantically under his hoodie and the waist of his low-sitting jeans.

The leather of his cut was soft on your fingertips as you ran them along the open panels, feeling Jax’s eagerness increase in his kiss when you peeled it down his arms and placed it carefully on the kitchen chair beside you without looking. He shrugged off his hoodie and white t-shirt while you busied yourself with unfastening his belt and jeans, letting the weight of his knife pull them to the floor without assistance, leaving him standing in his boxers with a cheeky grin on his face.

“You seem pretty happy unwrapping your present.”

“Is this all I get?” you teased, matching his smile and giggling when he picked you up and put you over his shoulder, giving your bum a harsh smack as he started making his way down to your bedroom.

"Come on, birthday girl, let's go make those wishes come true."

A seriousness took over again once you were in your room, what remained of the playfulness exchanged just a minute ago in the kitchen leaving the moment your feet touched the hardwood floor, Jax peering down at you with a look you hadn't seen before.

You'd be lying if you told yourself you weren't absolutely terrified, scared of letting yourself fall even further for him, but the way his expression had softened and his eyes held what you knew had to be love for you in them, you were ready to give in.

“I mean it,” he muttered, one of his hands reaching up to tuck your hair behind your ear where you leaned into his touch.

You crashed against him, kissing him hard, the need to have him more fierce than ever and only fueled more by him meeting your enthusiasm equally.

Jax tore his shirt from your body, only pausing in kissing you for long enough to get your head through it, stepping closer to you so your bodies were pressed together, feeling his hard cock nudging against your thighs and then between your legs through his boxers.

More desperate for him now than you thought you had ever been, you tugged his loose-fitting shorts down roughly, your mouth watering as his dick sprung free and bounced temptingly before you took hold of it and began rubbing the silky, veiny skin, his approval of your touch sounding as a low growl from deep in his chest.

"Fuck," he hissed, his mouth close to your ear as he leaned in against you, his hips moving into your strokes.

Finding his focus, he let his fingers hook in your thong to pull it down over your hips, his head angling to meet your mouth with his again as he slipped his fingers in your folds to spread your slick, both of you pressing your mouths against each other's harder as ecstasy quickly took over.

This was normally the time where one of you would frantically reach for a condom, barely keeping it together in time to get it on him as the temptation to go without almost always won, and today it seemed it would. You had always trusted that he wrapped up whenever he was with anyone, and although you were on birth control you were happy not to take any risks, but today was different. You wanted him, and all of him.

Jax walked forward until the back of your legs met your bed, and forcing you to sit, he crawled in over you, his blond hair hanging in your face as you spread out beneath him and he settled between your open legs.

He gave you a once over before meeting your eyes, admiring your perfect form spread and ready for him to ruin, his cheeks flinching as he clenched his jaw while he waited for you to give him the go-ahead.

Your consent was silent as you lifted your head up to capture his lips with yours, his sun-bleached beard scratching over your chin, lifting your hips at the same time so you rubbed yourself over his leaking head.

Jax wasted no more time, driving into you deeply in one push, pausing when he bottomed out to flex his cock inside you. You moaned into him, your hands clawing over the tattoo covering his back, unable to believe how good it felt to have him bare inside you.

Immediately choosing a rhythm that was both slow and hard at the same time, he thrusted in and out and ground against you with perfect precision, sending you close to the edge faster than ever before.

"You feel so fucking good!" he growled, his mouth parting from yours and leaving a string of wet between them, moving his lubricated lips over to your neck where you whined loudly and rocked more into his movements.

"Fuck, Jax!" you cried, knowing you were leaving ten red trails across his pale skin, but feeling the need to claim him as yours.

He was doing the same, sucking at your neck to leave darkened blemishes behind, his tongue alternating where his teeth came out to nip harshly at the tender skin to soothe each bite, his tempo growing erratic as he lost himself in your dripping cunt.

You seemed to only get wetter the more he kissed your neck and fucked you deeply, hitting that sweet spot with his head with each blow, the way you squeezed his girth tightly as he dragged in and out of you making him want to blow it already.

He forced himself to pause, needing to compose himself so he could keep fucking you for as long as he could, not wanting this to be over any time soon. Your whining increased, making him unsure if it was because he was sitting idly inside you or that he was persistent in continuing to kiss your neck all over to the point you had goosebumps littering your skin and you writhing desperately under him. It made him smile, knowing he had such an effect on you, smug in his ability to have you past the point of control and that you were seconds away from admitting something you tried so hard to deny for so long.

If Jax was anybody but the asshole he was he would've said it long ago, but selfishly he wanted to hear it spill from your gorgeous lips first, and he didn't ever go down without a fight.

"Roll over," he demanded, pulling out of you and forcefully grabbing at your leg to help flip you onto your stomach, hooking your knee up to bend at a high angle.

You took your hair in your hand and draped it over one shoulder, exposing the side of it for him to do with what he wanted, making him smirk more that you clearly wanted him there despite what you always said.

The hand that wasn't supporting him on the mattress gripped your cheek and spread you apart, driving his dick in you again torturously slowly, watching your face contort as he stretched you open. Your hands tore at the sheets as you backed yourself into him to push him in further, meeting his hips in slow, rolling motions, that tingling sensation of your building climax quickly returning.

Sex with Jax was always mind-blowing and the best you ever had, but tonight it felt so much better, so much more powerful, and you knew you could never have it any other way again.

He leaned over you to gently kiss your neck, more carefully than before, his efforts in wrecking you focused in his movements even though the feel of his lips on your sensitive skin had you shivering and threatening to come undone just as much.

The scent of your skin was like a drug to him as he breathed deeply, his nose ghosting at your nape and in your hair, dragging him right along with you to a point he would never recover from.

Wrapping a hand around to wedge between you and the bed, he found your clit, rubbing precise circles with his fingertips in the way he always knew made you scream, the thought of feeling you cum on his bare dick making him feel more feral than he ever had.

"Jax, I'm so close- Fuck!" you cried, your breathing growing ragged, your limbs moving recklessly to try to gain momentum on your climax that sat waiting just on the edge, seeking to keep up with his ruthless pounding.

He slowed his pace, adjusting to a speed he knew would have you at his mercy, his fingers pressing onto your swollen bud harder but in more languid strokes. His nose brushed along your neck, his breath fanning out over your dewy skin before he started kissing you again, the way your body tensed beneath him telling him he had you right where he wanted you.

"God, Jax, I love you," you admitted, feeling freed and unashamed in saying what you had feared to the most, your body relaxing into your words and finding the release it sought.

Jax hammered into you, pounding you through your high, his grunts mixing with your shouts of pleasure as you quaked and strangled him tightly.

Giving you no time to recover, he sat back on his heels and lifted you up with him, his cock momentarily slipping from you as you positioned yourself over his lap, allowing him a glimpse of your milky cum that coated it and sent him into a frenzy.

He speared back into you, your pussy sensitive and still tingling from your orgasm, his hand holding you back against his chest and pinching one of your nipples between his fingers to keep you as stimulated as possible.

Reaching up to turn your face to the side so he could kiss you, he rutted up into you brutally, feeling your pussy stretch out over him with each pump, your wetness dripping out to soak his golden pubes.

His kisses turned sloppy, nearing his end, his hand slipping down to hold your throat where he could easily control the amount of air allowed to pass through your windpipe, the knowledge of knowing you trusted him enough to let him do it lighting him up with an intense buzzing.

Before he could give in to that temptation, he let one hand return to your tits that bounced with his thrusts, the other replacing his lips on yours as he pulled your bottom lip down with his thumb and shoved two of his fingers inside. You sucked on them appreciatively, wetting them with your spit thoroughly as he triggered your gag reflex and pinched one of your peaked nipples at the same time, making you moan and clench hard on his dick. Removing them from the heat of your mouth, he trailed them between your breasts and straight down your stomach, landing on your clit where he spread your spit generously and worked to make you cum again.

You ground on him quickly, the increase in your movements sending you through to another climax, the sound of him grunting and panting in your ear as he began to cum encouraging you, but not as much as knowing he was about to fill you up.

He drove up into you harder, his teeth scraping along your neck and up to your cheek where he growled in your ear roughly, "I love you, too, babe."

You came together, feeling his hot spend coat your insides and start to leak out of you as he didn't let up on fucking you, wrecking you harder than he ever had before.

Your body felt weak and charged all at the same time, like you were melting into him but somehow needing more, and sliding off his dick with a quiet moan at the loss of him, you turned around to face him, sitting in his lap where you wrapped your arms and legs around him and held him close, continuing to kiss him with a necessity that was greater than breathing.

Holding your head in his hands, Jax met you with equal fervor, his chest rising and falling sharply against yours as he worked to catch his breath, and slowly guided you to lay down in the sheets with him.

Your legs tangled together, your arms holding and caressing each other with a surety you had never known before, relishing in the after effects of a level of bliss you were positive up until now you were never going to experience.

Slowing your kisses until they stopped, Jax looked at you warmly and flashed you a lazy smile, and you couldn't help but trace your fingertips over the creases beside his mouth and then up to run through his tousled hair.

You felt a slight pang in your chest in knowing he would probably leave soon, needing to see to some duties for the club, always having to run off shortly after his time with you to go deal with something that his loyalties couldn't ignore.

"I don't want today to end," you whispered, not ready to call it quits on your birthday just yet, and especially not ready to let him out of your bed after confessing something so huge.

Jax shifted onto his back, stretching out with a groan to reach for your alarm clock on your nightstand to check the time; 11:51 pm. Following the cord from the back of it into the wall behind the table, he pulled the plug out, watching the screen turn blank before rolling back over to you, his knee wedging between your legs as he settled his weight on top of you.

“Your birthday isn't over yet, darlin', and I'm not going anywhere.”

---

Taglist:

@sotwk @dailydragon08 @sunnys-day @thedreadandthefugitivemind @glassgulls @littlenosoul @blairsanne @glitterypirateduck @momia2910 @maggotzombie @rmwarn90 @paintlavillered

I went ahead and tagged everyone I have written down for my Charlie/Will Miller taglist so my apologies if you're not interested in being tagged in Jax fics and I will happily add or remove anyone as they wish!

#jax teller #sons of anarchy #jax teller smut #jax teller x female reader #jax teller x reader #sons of anarchy fic #jax teller fic #charlie hunnam

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mediumgayitalian · 28 days

Text

———

By all accounts, Will knows what he’s doing.

He still drives like a godsdamn maniac.

“Do you want us to die?” Nico hollers, cheeks aching from the force of his grin, belly flipping at the peal of Will’s laughter.

The bike is exhilarating, as Will weaves it around cars at unbelievable speeds, working with the bike like it’s a part of him, like it’s not a separate thing he has to move. He steers it with a natural ease Nico’s only really seen in some of the best pegasus riders in camp — he knows the machine intimately enough to anticipate how it moves, how it reacts. It really is an extension of his body.

He left any panic about gripping onto Will somewhere in Long Island — to let go would be suicide. He has to hold on to stay onto the bike, to know to lean when Will leans, to tense when he tenses. Besides that, he’s having fun. He’s not the one driving, so he’s free to rest his helmet on Will’s back and watch as the world whips by — dizzying, really, as the speed of the bike making the green-budding trees melt into the bright blue skies, mix with the tar black asphalt, glow under the sparkling sun. The whole world looks like sidewalk chalk after it rains, a swirling mass of colour and streaks as artistic or more than what it was before it was washed away. The only indication that they’re actually going anywhere rather than standing straight in the middle of a kaleidoscope is the spots of roadside green that pop up every now and again, or a heavy lean to the side and Will switches lanes.

As they pull out of New York, Will starts to slow down. The dizzying mass of colours calms until everything’s at a slow spin, as Will mellows out to a speed that can be registered on a mortal odometer. With less wind whipping all over, Nico can actually hear him.

“Better than a flying chariot?”

Nico grins. “Definitely.”

“Another great thing about this is that it has a CD player. Two-nothing for the sad hunk of wood.”

By great thing Will of course means the same four songs I’ve been obsessed with for a month playing over and over and over until you are ready to launch yourself off the bike and join the dead raccoon at the side of the road, but that still doesn’t manage to ruin it. Something about driving top speeds in the early spring air makes it hard to be annoyed about annoying.

(Or maybe it’s the way Nico can feel Will’s muscles shift every time he moves, or how he winks every time he catches Nico’s eye in the mirrors, or the lowkey kind of sinful the way he straddles the seat. But Nico is quite happy sharing a name with a river in Egypt, so he ignores these fun facts and continues to delude himself, an art in which he is become quite wondrously skilled.)

Somewhere between Jersey and Delaware, the traffic picks up again, so Will shouts for him to hold on and cranks up the speed. Nico clenches tightly around his waist, squeezing his eyes shut, this time, and listens to the roar of air as they shove through it fast enough to rival sound. When they’re drifting, again, Nico can feel an incline, and looks up just in time to watch Will exit off the highway.

“Are we here already?” he shouts, incredulous. He knows his ADHD makes him bad with time, but jeez — it can’t have been more than an hour, an hour and a half.

“Not yet,” Will says, barely having to raise his voice as they come to a stop, heel of his boot clicking on the pavement. He checks both ways and then, once nothing comes around the bend, pushes off and guides them down a winding back road, tipping around curves and speeding down hills. Nico’s stomach bottoms out every drop, and he can’t clamp down the giggle that pushes out his throat, as ridiculous as it is. Luckily, Will’s giggling, too.

In a few minutes, they pull up to an old, rusted gas station, with signs so old they’re hand-painted. Will kills the engine and flicks out the kickstand, pulling off his helmet and shaking out his hair. It’s such a tangled mess that Nico can’t help but reach out and tug on a lopsided curl.

“I didn’t think this thing needed gas.”

“It doesn’t!” He pats a dark piece of glass in between the handlebars. “It’s solar-powered. But I figured you could use a minute to stretch your legs, and frankly, if I don’t eat something soon I genuinely might cook you.”

“You forgot to eat today, didn’t you.”

“…No.”

As soon as he speaks, his eyes start to water. His throat swells. He holds his breath for a noble four seconds, and then starts wheezing.

Nico sighs heavily. “Dumbass.”

Hauling him upright by the collar, Nico drags him towards the little corner store. This, at least, is familiar. Will gets caught up in his work easily, and forgets to do things like eat or move or, on one particularly amusing occasion, breathe. (Just tipped right over, one day, onto the floor, mid-poultice. There is a chip on the side of the stone mortar to this day. Nico, Will’s other friends, and his siblings take shifts bringing it up to dunk on him properly. Last he checked, Lou Ellen commissioned Jake Mason to make a plaque to hang on the infirmary wall, memorializing the incident forever.)

“C’mon, stupid. Let’s get you a sandwich. And Benadryl.”

“I’m honestly fine,” Will wheezes, cheeks swelling slightly.

“Stop talking,” Nico orders. “You’re making it worse.”

Wisely, Will clamps up. That, or his throat is starting to close. Either is likely.

His stubborn determination to continue lying despite being literally allergic to it would be impressive, if it wasn’t so irritating.

A little bell rings by the door when Nico pushes it open, making the person sitting behind the counter look up.

“Ah,” they say sagely, folding up their newspaper. “Demigods.”

Immediately, Nico’s on alert. Before he can draw his sword, though, Will lifts a hive-spotted hand in a wave.

“Hey, Berchio,” he croaks.

The person at the counter — Berchio — smiles ruefully.

“Benadryl?”

Nico nods hesitantly, still a little wary at the stranger, but Will is starting to keen over, now, and Nico didn’t think to bring an Epi-Pen (since the allergy is totally avoidable, William, you are your own worst enemy), so he’s running out of options. “Please.”

Chuckling to themself, Berchio ruffles around a shelf by the checkout counter, locating the familiar bottle after a minute — Will gets himself into these situations a lot, he has a serious twizzler problem and should consider getting his own stash instead of lifting it from the Hermes cabin and then lying about where it went — and rolling towards them. The spokes of their wheelchair have little skull charms on them that make a pleasant tinkling noise as they spin, making Nico trust them instantly. He should get Chiron wheel beads. That’s sick as hell.

“Here, kid. Drink water, too, you’re going to dry yourself out.”

Will garbles out a thank you, choking down the medicine. As all meds do with Apollo’s children, lucky bastards that they are, it works quickly, and in minutes he’s breathing right again.

“Gods, I love oxygen.”

“You are a human disaster,” Nico informs him. “Like, hugely.”

Will takes a sip of his water, pondering that. “Is that more embarrassing for you, or for me?”

“Why the hell would it be embarrassing for me?”

“Well, since you like me so much.” Nico chokes. “I might be a disaster, but at least I don’t have a crush on one.”

“All this wheezing,” Berchio sighs. “This must be Nico?”

“The one and only,” Will says cheerfully. He reaches out and touches a warm hand to Nico’s throat, immediately clearing his airways. Now no longer struggling for breath, Nico darts out and punches him, hard, on the arm.

“Ow! Meanie!”

“You are such a derp-faced dweeb,” Nico hisses, fully aware he’s red in the face. “Why are you — why are you this way.”

“I’m gonna tell Chiron you were bullying me!”

“Tell him! I’ll tell him you were the one to sprinkle instant mashed potatoes all over the grass before it rained, not Cecil!”

Will snaps his mouth shut. “I told you that in confidence.”

Nico smiles smugly. “Well, that’s on you. My loyalties are about as secure as my parent’s relationship.”

“If you two are finished flirting,” interrupts an amused voice, making both of them jump. Berchio watches them with their arms crossed, eyebrow raised in a similar chiding way to Chiron last time he caught Nico attempting to sneak an entire tray of brownies from the kitchen (mark his words — as soon as he can shadow travel again, no other camper will be seeing a brownie as long as they shall live). They shake their head, tutting exaggeratedly. “My, my, Will, I’m beginning to understand why you mentioned him every time you opened your mouth. I figured you liked him, but this is ridiculous.”

For once, Will is the one to flush crimson. He stutters something entirely incomprehensible, gesturing vaguely towards Berchio, and then frantically towards Nico, and finally squawks something about trust and the breaching of it. He goes red to the very roots of his hair, clamping his own mouth shut mid-sentence and scowling something awful.

Suddenly, Nico gets it. This is why no one ever leaves him alone. Oh, he is loathe to give the assholes he’s friends with credit, but…

When does he ever get to see Will — confident, easy Will — go scarlet?

“So you like me,” he says, shit eating grin stretching across his face. “Oh ho ho ho.”

“Oh, shut up,” Will snaps, without any heat. “Last time we played volleyball you got a concussion ‘cause you couldn’t stop staring at my chest and took a ball to the face.”

“That — it was — that hit was malicious,” he sputters. “And how is it my fault you’re always ditching your shirt at the first available opportunity like some kind of whore? I couldn’t not look!”

“Avert your eyes, then, scoundrel!”

“I — don’t call me a scoundrel! You’re a scoundrel!”

“You’re both late, is what you are,” Berchio interrupts again. “Will, I assume you’re running an errand?”

Still a little flushed, Will nods. “Yes. Thanks, Berchio. We’re picking up parts in Roanoke, I just stopped for some food.”

“He forgot to eat this morning,” Nico pipes up. He figures that Berchio seems comfortable enough with Will that they can act as a disappointed authority figure, which will make Mr. Daddy Issues Solace crumple like a castle built on a pillar of sand — he needs the humbling. (Also, Nico will get him on a healthier track or die trying. It’s not fair that he gets to be a big hypocrite about good diet and eating and sleeping habits and then turn around and act a fool. Someone needs to watch out for the idiot, or he’s going to get himself killed, and then Nico is going to have to spend the rest of his life in the Underworld, yelling at him.)

“William.”

Nico’s theory is proven correct. Berchio stares at Will with the perfect mix of disappointment and concern, immediately triggering the scramble-to-please expression on Will’s face. He practically stumbles over himself trying to follow after him and get fed.

“Are you happy with a sandwich, Nico? I know Will’ll eat anything that even remotely looks like food, but most of us have standards,” they tease.

Nico snorts at Will’s offended pout. “Yeah, a sandwich is more than fine. Thanks, Berchio.”

After handing them both a sandwich they pull from one of the many fridges in the little convenience store, they guide them outside, parking their wheelchair next to the curb they sit on and joining them in a little picnic.

“So how do you know each other?” Nico asks, gesturing between the two of them.

Will answers first, because Berchio, who is a polite person with manners, takes the time to swallow their food.

“I stop here all the time,” he says, garbled, making both Nico and Berchio wince. Nico takes the initiative to kick him.

“Stop being disgusting and explain yourself without showing off the contents of your mouth,” Nico threatens, “or I’m going to stab you again.”

Will swallows, sticks out his tongue, and continues.

“First time I used the bike, I got it into my head that I should go visit my mom. Would’ve been fine, except I was thirteen and hadn’t been outside of camp in six years and got chased by a pack of empousai the second I left the city, basically.”

“I was collecting herbs and sensed him coming,” Berchio explains. “He crossed the borders I have set up; I hid him here. Now he stops by whenever he’s travelling to chat.” Berchio smiles warmly. “I appreciate the company.”

Will grins back. “Me too! Plus, I very much appreciate the herb exchange. Speaking of which, I have your goldenrod.”

He digs into his jeans pocket, pulling out a bundle. He hands it over to Berchio, who accepts it gratefully, handing over their own bundle to Will.

“And your witch hazel.”

“Berchio’s an Ipotane,” Will explains, catching sight of Nico’s furrowed brow. “They’ve been doing this healing stuff for centuries. They’re real good with salves.”

Nico shakes his head fondly. “Even when you’re being cool, you’re a nerd.” He gestures to the bike. “Taking your secret motorcycle to visit your secret mentor to learn more about healing. Gods, it’s like Apollo made you in a lab.”

“You take that back! I contain multitudes!”

“And now you’re quoting famous poems, dear gods, try to prove my point better, why don’t you —”

“Blah blah blah!”

Nico grins at him, rolling his eyes, and Will is just as playfully dramatic with his bit lip and hidden smile and the hair he tucks behind his ear like he does when he wants to touch somebody but isn’t sure if it’s invited. Nico answers the question for him, reaching out and flicking his knuckles as an excuse to touch his hands. Will takes it, beaming.

“Thank you for the food, Berchio,” Will says when they finish, leaning down to hug them. “We gotta get going, but I’ll be back in a couple weeks. I had a dream about an outbreak, so no doubt the infirmary will need restocked soon.”

“Bring your boyfriend next time,” Berchio suggests, grinning when Nico goes red at the term. “Watching the two of you was not unlike one of Sterne’s famous productions.”

“I take offence to that,” Will says haughtily.

“Good. You needed humbling.”

“Nobody appreciates me around here!”

Nico bites back the I do that threatens to escape his throat. Gods, he’s so embarrassing. Whoever taught him how to speak should have to pay for their crimes.

They head back to the bike, waving goodbye to the Ipotane and speeding off. The drive the rest of the way down south is much calmer, bellies full and energy somewhat spent, and it helps that there’s no traffic. Will cruises, keeping time with the sun that’s inching across the sky, ignoring Nico’s suggestion to attempt to race his dad. They arrive in Roanoke in good time, following Nyssa’s scrawled directions to the parts shop.

The shop is old, visibly, paint peeling and smelling strongly of car grease. As Nysa predicted, the person they speak to — a mechanic, by the look of her jumpsuit — doesn’t ask so much as a single question at the two teenagers rolling up to her doorstep, heading to the greasy shelves of car parts and grabbing what they need with a shrug.

“Well,” says Will slowly as she piles them on the counter, “that’s…more than I anticipated.”

Nico looks at the stack of twisted metal. He looks at the bike. Finally, he looks at his dumbass friend.

“Solace.”

Will scratches the back of his neck. “Yeah?”

“Solace, tell me you have space to put this stuff.”

“Well, we can try the seat compartment?”

Nico buries his head in his hands. “Solace.”

“What!”

“You know what, lughead! We cannot do the one thing we came here to do! Gods!”

“I usually go on supply runs for the infirmary, okay!” Will cries. “That stuff is way less bulky! I forgot to compensate!”

Nico groans. At this point, they’re going to have to bus back, or something equally as stupid. And what are they gonna do with the bike? Gods, if Nico was here by himself and also maybe possibly with Reyna, who could share her strength, he’d just —

He stills.

“Oh, no,” Will says, pointing a stern finger, “oh, no, di Angelo, I know that look, you have been expressly banned —”

“Relax,” Nico grumbles. “Don’t you trust me?”

“With everything,” Will says automatically, then flushes for the second time that day. “But that is not the point —”

Deciding he will return to that later — and he most certainly will — Nico darts forward. Before Will can stop him, he puts both hands on the pile of parts, lunges towards the nearest shadow, and shoved them in, withdrawing as quickly as he can manage.

“Nico!”

He waits.

“Oh, you fuckin’ — you goddamn son of a mother!”

He checks his hands — still solid.

“I am going to smash you flat an’ feed you through a goddamn juicer! You fuckin’ heart-stopper!”

He grins. “I told you I could do some Underworld magic.”

“Underworld deez fuckin’ nuts!” Will stomps forward, grabbing Nico’s hands to do his own inspection. “What part of doctor’s orders are you missin’, huh? You think I wanna watch you fade again? You think I wanna —” His voice cracks, hands tightening around Nico’s wrists. Nico softens immediately, smug look melting into something gentler.

“Will.”

“You coulda died, Nico, you coulda faded to — to nothin’.”

“Will.” He flips his hands so his palms meet Will’s, and squeezes, smiling gently. “Feel my vitals, dork. Am I fading?”

Will exhales. “No.”

“Am I close?”

“…No.”

He squeezes again. “I’m fine, Will.”

“You scared me.” The anger in his voice has faded into something soft — something afraid. Suddenly the hands on his wrists feel more clingy than anything, and a twinge of guilt goes off in Nico’s stomach.

“I’m sorry.” He squeezes Will’s hands one last time, and when that doesn’t do much, lets go to wrap around his cheeks, instead, forcing him to meet his eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I don’t mean to restrict you,” Will says softly. “It’s just — I worry, is all.”

Nico taps their foreheads together, smile pulling at his face. This, he can — this he can deal with. This version of Will, soft and nervous and caring, makes it a lot easier to slide his fingers into the mess of Will’s curls, to run his thumbs over his cheekbones and feel him shiver.

“Would that have anything to do with the alleged crush you have on me?”

Will grins. “It might.” One of his hands comes up to rest on top of Nico’s, brushing over his knuckles. “All your moonin’ after me had me looking twice, I guess.”

“You’re such a dick,” Nico scoffs, and yanks him down to meet him in the middle, laughing, swallowing his smile and relishing in the warm press of their bodies. It’s — gods, it’s everything, it’s a thousand times better than he imagined, and at the same time everything he expected. Will smells like wind and sunshine and his lavender shampoo, and his hands are roughened from all the antiseptic he has to use, and his lips are surprisingly chapped, but the press of his cheeks is soft, and the feel of him is overwhelming. It feels, as cliche as it is, like the final burst of a firework after watching the smokey trail of the rocket with bated breath, watching it crest the night sky before exploding, finally, amongst the stars, it’s like —

A cleared throat startled them apart.

“Anytime y’all feel like paying for those parts, it would be great.”

Will grins sheepishly. “Sorry,” he says, pulling out the money Chiron gave him. His grin turns sly, and Nico’s knees turn to jelly. “My boyfriend’s just super distracting.”

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quizzicalwriter · 6 months

Note

can you please write a dallas winston x fem!reader smut where he likes has super aggressive sex with reader with praise (and a lot of squ!rt!ng) thank you!

PDA

Pairing: Dallas Winston x Fem!Reader

Summary: Playfully flirting to make Dallas jealous? At a party no less? Scandalous.

Warnings: SMUT. MDNI. This is pure, unadulterated filth. Kissing, touching, blowjobs, squirting, mirror sex, all that good stuff.

A/N: Thank you for the request! All these requests have me looking in dictionaries for synonyms. Thank you all for the broadening of my literacy even if it’s centered around filth. Second part can be found here!

Word Count: 2.6k

Three shots, that’s all you’d promised yourself you’d do when you and Dallas arrived at the house. But, as always, you weren’t the best judge of what you’d do when the circumstances shifted into something more chaotic. After all, how could you turn down Two-Bit when he was proudly flaunting his latest creation? You’d have been better off heeding the warning from Sodapop, his face twisted into a grimace as he took a sip.

“What is that?” He asked through a hoarse groan, words followed by a cough as he placed the remainder on the counter. You’d seen all the guys drink their fair share of straight liquor, but you’d never seen such an adverse reaction before. It made you laugh as you leaned against Dallas’s side, all of you looking at Two-Bit who stood with a proud smile on his face.

“Everything!” He exclaimed, words already semi-slurred. “Found all the bottles, mixed them.”

You could hear Sodapop groan, his brows furrowing as he moved from the kitchen. Steve moved in, taking a cup from Two-Bit who’d mixed everything into a punch bowl, which you were fairly certain he’d stolen, but you’d ask about that later. Steve seemed to take it well, only shaking his head with a coughed-out laugh.

Throughout your relationship with Dallas, you’d grown used to the boys, quickly growing close with some of them as well, close enough to do foolish things alongside them if prompted. Two-Bit turned to you then, extending out a cup to which Dallas quickly put his hand out, blocking the cup with a gruff, “Fuck no, she’s not drinking that shit.”

You looked up at him, feeling rather rebellious that night, so you pushed his hand away and grabbed the cup for yourself. Two-Bit cheered, moving back to Steve as the two conversed over what all went into the bowl. Dallas rolled his eyes, looking away from you as you took a quick sip from the cup. Sodapop was right to make the face he had, yours quickly twisted up as you struggled to keep the mixture in your mouth.

“See?” Dallas laughed, moving to grab the cup, only for you to pull it back and away from him. “Fine, drink it.” He muttered.

It was awful, but you were stubborn. You’d drank nearly half the cup before your stomach warned you if you drank another you’d be spending the night in the bathroom. However, whatever had been in the cup had done its job of getting you tipsy, and that’s all you cared about.

Time always moved odd whenever you found yourself drunk, minutes passing like hours, only for you to look back at the clock and realize it was nearly two in the morning. You’d been dancing with someone you’d presumed was Dallas, only to realize halfway through that it was most definitely not Dallas. For some reason you didn’t push him away, your tipsy mind convincing you it’d be hot to see Dallas jealous.

What you didn’t consider was how violently jealous Dallas got, the thought not crossing your mind until you felt yourself shoved forward. You turned to see the guy who’d been dancing with you on his ass, Dallas standing directly over him. You cursed under your breath, moving to Dallas's side, grabbing his arm as you tugged him away.

“Dal-“ You sputtered out, looking down at the poor guy who had a noticeable bruise forming along his cheekbone. “Not his fault.”

Dallas turned to you then, clearly pissed. “The hell were you doing dancing with him? Letting him touch you?”

The plan was stupid from the start, but only now were you realizing just how stupid it was. You swallowed, throat suddenly dry as you looked down at his chest, focusing on his necklace as you replied. “Wanted to see you jealous.”

To your surprise Dallas sighed, head tilting back as he steadied his breathing. He looked back at you, raising a hand to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes were no longer angry, still irritated, but not angry. “You’re mine, alright? I don’t like people touching what’s mine.”

The words caused your stomach to flutter, a smile you quickly tried to hide crossing your features as you met his gaze. He noticed, smiling himself as he leaned down to press a kiss to your lips. As he pulled away you leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth from his palms against your skin.

“Yours.”

Dallas intertwined his fingers with yours, placing his cigarette between his lips as he led you through the crowd. You didn’t know where he planned on taking you, but you felt your thighs clenching with each step, trying to quell the growing ache at the sight of Dallas being so fiercely protective over you. You passed by several couples pressed against the wall, one girl, in particular, you were fairly certain was being fingered out in the open, but you simply averted your gaze as Dallas pulled you into a nearby bathroom.

“I don’t have to pee.” You stated, looking up to Dallas. Your confusion was precious to him, causing him to stifle a laugh as he exhaled a lungful of smoke around his cigarette.

“Didn’t bring you in here to piss, doll.”

His words registered quickly, even with your mind in the tipsy state it found itself in. You smiled up at him, feeling yourself growing wetter at the way his eyes raked over your form.

The noise outside the bathroom was loud enough to conceal anything you two might do, but the risk of being caught, walked in on, being overheard - all of it only served to strengthen the pang of arousal between your legs, leaving you beyond eager to drop to your knees against the cool tile if it meant having him down your throat.

He turned his gaze to the sink, snubbing his cigarette out against the porcelain, hardly having noticed you’d sunk to your knees until you began undoing his belt. He smiled down at you, tilting his head to the side as he raised a hand to cup your jaw, thumb brushing against your lower lip. You parted your lips, taking his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit as you kept his gaze.

He whined, brows furrowing as your hands moved to his abdomen, pushing his shirt up to expose his stomach. You leaned up on your knees, kissing down his stomach until you reached his jeans, slowly unbuttoning them in between each kiss. His hands moved to your hair, fingers threading through your hair to grab at the roots, the pain causing you to whine out a breath of air.

“You that desperate?” He asked through a laugh, clearly not wanting to admit how much of an effect your actions had on him. “Go ahead, doll.”

You smiled, taking your bottom lip between your teeth as you unzipped his jeans, his cock already straining against the fabric of his boxers, precum dampening the fabric near his tip. You pressed a kiss to his tip through his boxers, the feeling causing him to gasp, his grip on your hair tightening.

“Stop teasing.” He groaned, hand moving to push his thumb into your mouth, pressing down against your tongue as he pulled down his boxers himself. You didn’t move away from his hold, even as your spit dribbled down your chin and onto your breasts. He pumped himself lazily, causing a whine of need to die in your throat as you shifted on your knees.

“Open.” He murmured, removing his hand from your face. You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately opening your mouth as you continued looking up at him, feeling yourself clench around nothing in anticipation of the feeling of him fucking your throat. He smiled down at you at the quickness of your actions, seemingly proud as he pressed his tip against your tongue, the warmth of your mouth causing his eyes to flutter.

Whatever warmth was in his eyes mere seconds prior was gone the moment you wrapped your lips around his tip, languidly licking a stripe up his slit. His grasp on your hair tightened, hips flexing under the flickering fluorescent light above the bathroom sink. His free hand moved to your cheek, giving it a gentle pat, a condescending sigh passing his lips before he roughly thrusted into your mouth. You could feel the burn down your throat, back involuntarily tensing as his navel touched your nose, cock nestled in your throat.

“Fuck-“ He croaked out, taking in a shuddering breath. “You want to flirt in front of me, doll? Do they know whose cock you’re choking on? Huh?”

Your hands flew behind you, hands clasping each other as you tried to refrain from pushing him away, wanting to be good for him. After all, you’d done what you’d done for a reason, and this was it. He pulled out after a moment, a loud gasp for air tearing its way from your chest. He only smiled, hardly giving you a second of reprieve before pushing into your mouth again, the salty taste of his precum coating your tongue as he gave into his desires, grunting out your name in between broken words of praise as he fucked your throat.

Your eyes watered, blurring the vision of him pumping himself down your throat. You blinked away the tears, your mascara smearing down your skin. The sight caused him to snicker, thumb gently wiping away your tears as he continued fucking your mouth, tongue flat against the underside of his cock, trying desperately to take all of him. The look of you on your knees with his cock nestled in your throat was enough to make him cum, but he didn’t want to, not yet anyway. With a sharp grunt, he pulled out of your throat, causing you to sputter out a series of coughs, hands moving to wipe away your tears before looking back up to him.

“C’mon, bend over the counter.” He stated, extending a hand down to help you up from the floor. Before you’d even had the chance to breathe he had you bent over the porcelain sink. Only then did you realize there was a mirror, horribly smudged and cracked in certain places, but you could see your fucked out reflection clear as day. It made you blush, gaze averting from the sight. He caught on quickly, fingers threading through your hair once more, pulling it back to ensure you stared at yourself while he fucked you.

“What?” He asked, tone close to a coo, the sound causing your stomach to flip with arousal. He pulled down your jeans and underwear, tossing the bundled clothes to a nearby corner before moving back behind you, hand steady on your hip. “Don’t want to watch yourself getting fucked, doll?”

You’d opened your mouth to respond, but all that came out was a broken moan as he pushed himself into you, burying his cock to the hilt within your cunt. You could see his smile in the reflection of the mirror, eyes set on you as he started moving his hips. The cold porcelain of the countertop bit into your thighs, but the arousal and sight of him fucking you outweighed any feeling of pain.

“That’s it, sweetheart.” He whispered, words breaking off into a grunt as he slammed into you. You were sure anyone near the bathroom could hear you two, if not his words then your desperate moans and the sound of skin meeting skin. Neither of you were trying to be discreet, simply focused on making the other cum. “Taking my cock so good, like you were made for it.”

His arm wrapped around your waist, hand trailing down to the top of your cunt where he began swirling his fingers around your clit, a cut-off laugh leaving him as his fingers slid against your skin, cunt coated in a mixture of your cum and his. A moan akin to a mewl fell from your lips at the feeling, unable to look away from yourself as he fucked you, cock stretching you out and nudging against a spot within you that had your legs wobbling beneath you.

A feeling you didn’t recognize began to build in your lower stomach, a pressure that had you whining. He only picked up his pace, tip hitting near your cervix with each thrust, shaft brushing against that same fucking spot. Before you could stop yourself you were cumming around him, a drawn-out moan ripping its way from your chest as your cunt fluttered around him. You felt your thighs shaking beneath you, hands shooting out to stabilize yourself against the counter as the feeling flowed through you.

You’d hardly realized Dallas had gone wide-eyed until you looked up at him, and then you realized just how wet your legs were, as well as the floor beneath you. Dallas laughed then, smiling at you before pushing himself back in.

“Came so hard you pushed me out, doll.” He murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to your shoulder. “Soaked yourself, got it on my jeans.”

You could only muster a near-silent apology, words soon cut off by a whimper as he resumed his previous pace, every feeling magnified by overstimulation. His hand moved from your hair to your throat, pulling your back flush against his chest as he rutted into you, curving his hips to push himself deeper inside of you. Your hands moved to his forearm, watching your reflection in a dazed state, any words you tried to utter coming out a slurred mess.

His grasp on your throat tightened, your breath being cut off doing nothing to deter him as he chased his orgasm. Just as your vision began to blur you felt his cock twitch inside of you followed by a litany of curses as he flooded your cunt with his cum. His hand moved from your throat to smooth down your stomach as he pressed gentle kisses to the back of your shoulders, whispering words of praise against your damp skin.

“So good-“ He whispered, voice hoarse. “So fuckin’ good, doll.”

You tilted your head back, capturing his lips against your own. The kiss was messy, it made you clench around his cock as he pulled out, cum dripping down the inside of your thighs. You felt him laugh, the noise filling the silence between you two as he grabbed a nearby towel, wiping down your thighs and legs.

“Can’t believe you did that.” He murmured, looking up at you as he helped you to step back into your underwear and jeans. “Squirted all over me, down your legs. Even got the floor wet.”

His words were laced with gentle laughs, but the faint flush on his cheeks told you enough, he’d found it hotter than he’d be willing to admit. Something told you that he’d be trying to make you do it more often in the future. Before you could linger on the thought a loud series of knocks sounded on the door, followed by an incredibly irritated-sounding voice.

“You two done? I gotta piss!” Shouted a voice, causing both you and Dallas to freeze. You scrambled to button your jeans while Dallas simply pulled his up, opening the bathroom door with an overtly proud smile. Your eyes locked with Two-Bit, an incredibly drunk and now embarrassed Two-Bit. “Jesus Christ, I’ll go piss in the yard.”

You could only laugh at his words as Dallas closed the door, turning to you with a smile as he buttoned his jeans. His hands moved to cup your jaw as he kissed your forehead, smiling against your skin before pulling away with a simple, “Mine.”

“Yours.” You replied.

A/N: Thank you for the request and for reading - even if you simply skim over it, I appreciate the interactions nonetheless! As always you can find my work posted over on ao3 under the username “Unscriptural.” I hope you all enjoy this one, it took a while to write and a fair bit of revisions, but I’m happy with it!

564 notes · View notes

kaydenverse · 1 year

Text

Needy

pairing: König x gn reader

18+ MINORS DNI

genre: absolute filth

word count: 814

content warnings: size kink, overstimulation, begging, uhh idk

a/n: woaahh using proper punctuation now anyways i’m deeply in love with könig like very deeply

“I’m sorry,” König pants has he desperately ruts his hips against yours. “I’m sorry Mein Liebling, you just feel so good I can’t stop.” he groans against your shoulder.

You whine out, high and loud, when he pins one of your wrists next to your head while his other hand grips your hip. He’s still careful to not lean too much of his weight on you despite his rough handling of you at the moment.

He’d never forgive himself if he ever hurt you more than you can handle even after telling him countless times that you truly don’t mind.

“König-!” Part of you wants to arch into him and beg him for more but another part of you also wants the mattress beneath you to open up and swallow you whole so you could catch a few seconds of peace, a moment to piece your thoughts back together, before König is prying open the jaws of the cushiony monster and diving in after you to jumble your head all over again.

“Shh shh, you can handle it.” König nearly chokes on a moan when you tug at the ginger hair on the back of his neck.

You turn your head to the side and squeeze your eyes shut. There’s too much of that wonderful feeling pulsing through your body and you kick one of your legs out as if that will extend some of the pleasure outside your body but you’re simply stuck with the overwhelming buzz. In fact, your squirming is making him get just the right angle.

you’re going to burst at the seams.

“Baby,” You whimper and yank his head back just enough so he can see your face. “Please I can't.” you whine yet make zero effort to stop him.

König shoves his face back into the crook of your neck. “I’m so close, you feel so good. Been thinking about this all day.” his whiny tone is almost competition with yours.

König had been so needy all day, so much so that Horangi definitely caught the several times the Austrian man had pulled you aside for a not so sneaky kiss or two… or three… Horangi did walk in on the two of you making out on the sparring mat after König had pinned you during a sparring match. The both of you quickly apologized and excused yourselves from the room with Horangi teasing the two of you on your way out.

A short walk to your room on base and an hour later he's made you cum three times already, twice with his mouth because he eats like a starved man and once with his fingers while forcing you to look directly into his chestnut colored eyes. You’re quickly approaching your fourth high as König fucks you as if it’s the last thing he’ll ever do.

“You’re so small.” König lets out a breathy laugh above you. “Yet here you are taking me so well aren’t you?” he leans his kissed raw lips closed to your ear and what he whispers makes your mind go blank.

“I could break you and you’d love it, meine liebe.”

König, your darling boyfriend who shyly asks to kiss you and gets flustered when you call him pretty. Your König who handcrafts you gifts to leave in your bed whenever you're away on missions. you two are so sweet to one another around others that no one would ever guess that you both shamelessly get off on threatening one another while you fuck.

And you wouldn’t want it any other way.

The moan that escapes you is loud and König has the audacity to laugh at you. “I’m, ooh-“ you’re hurdling over the edge before you can get the words out.

König’s rhythm falters as you completely come apart underneath him. You scratch at his broad shoulders and shake, your high so intense your lips part but no noise falls from them. The Austrian manages to slide out of your despite your legs trying to lock him in place and he spills his release all over your stomach, whimpering and whining. He adores seeing you covered in his mess.

You barely have time to recover before König is frantically kissing down your torso to lick him his mess. You stare at the ceiling and shiver at the sensation of your König lapping up every last drop of his own cum on your stomach. Just when you think he’s done, he’s kissing down farther and that causes you to snap your head up to look at him.

“baby, wait,” You tug at the hair on the top of his head which only earns you a pleased moan as he settles himself between your thighs again. “please I can’t” you whine but he sees right through your fake protest.

“You can,” König hoists your thighs over his shoulders yet again. “and you will.”

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