#Furrow Hill

[dustedmagazine]

Sky Furrows — Reflect and Oppose (Cardinal Fuzz/Feeding Tube)

Poetry and rock music don’t always mix very well, but Albany’s Sky Furrows have found a fertile ground between battering post-punk groove and knotty lyric.

It helps that the poetry is above average. Karen Schoemer has made her mark on the page as well as behind the microphone, contributing verse to journals Hobo Camp Review, La Presa and Up the River and decanting it live in front of Sky Furrows and Jaded Azurites, a duo with Mike Watt. She’s also been a music journalist with bylines in the New York Times and Newsweek.

Here, her lyrics have a rough cut conversational quality, the words themselves well-worn with use (no thesaurus required) but arranged in startling, vivid images. The opening track “Shopping Bags” considers happiness from all angles. It opens with a couple posing for wedding pictures, not on the day they’re married but earlier, commemorating a happy event that hasn’t happened yet. The narrator passes by accidentally, detouring to avoid the photo bomb, sardonic and removed. She herself has just had the consumer’s pleasure of finding decent stuff in the free box, classic paperbacks, a bike helmet, teacups.

“I was excited to have all this stuff until a minute ago. Until a minute ago, I felt like I’d really scored,” she observes, casually nailing the transience of shopper’s high. Other images flash by, moms smoking pot on a stroller outing, women in hijabs conversing, the ordinary stuff of human connection. The narrator gauges her difficult relationship with these scenes in a verse that goes “Happy people are intrusive, parents, families, any person who has another/I hate them all, yet I feel dependent on them as if any chance I have for happiness rides upon their backs.” It moves quick, this verse. It takes on no unnecessary weight or sentiment. And yet it gets at something deep and resonant about modern disconnection.

The words take up the foreground, but they wouldn’t stick as well without the music, which is spare and mobile and full of sharp edges. The band shares members with psychedelic Burnt Hills—Eric Hardiman, Mike Griffin and Phil Donnelly—but their work here is tight and rhythmically disciplined. It twitches and shudders under the verses, shadowy and ominous. The sound of it reminds me most of the no wave sounds: Thalia Zedek’s band E, The Contortions, Lydia Lunch and Retrovirus. 

It comes together best in the blistering “Koba Grozny,” with its lurching guitar riff, its punched out, periodically explosive drumming, its torrid blare of feedback. The music is always on the verge of busting out—you can feel the threat and release of it building—but it remains in check. The lyrics are similarly violent, recounting waves and waves of purges following the battle of Grozny, with the refrain “Death solves all problems. No man, no problem.” It’s a bracing piece of work, dry eyed and realistic, but also psychedelically vivid, and it hits hard right now with war dragging on in Ukraine and flaring hot in Gaza and threatening to break out in all manner of places.

Reflect and Oppose isn’t an easy album, but you won’t forget it soon.

Jennifer Kelly

[farm-implements]

Ridger Help Farmers in Agriculture | Fieldking

Ridgers are like handy tools that farmers use on their fields. These tools make farming easier and help in different ways. One of the main things ridger do is help with planting certain crops in neat rows. They create lines in the soil where farmers can put seeds or small plants. This makes it easier to grow crops evenly, especially for things like potatoes, sweet potatoes, and sugarcane.

[lovedaruma]

their spot ♥︎

sukuna x princess! reader

ー in which you and sukuna meet when he unintentionally saves you and you continue to meet him everyday in the same spot.

fem! reader, heian era, grumpy x sunshine, reader is innocent and playful, fluff + short smut

"Your Highness! Please don't go too far!" you hear your personal maid shout from the distance as you continue to run, laughing and waving her goodbye.

Any other princess wouldn't be allowed to go into the wilderness on her own, but as for Y/N, her family could not care less if she went missing the next morning.

You have already wandered through so many paths, yet there was still more to explore. You take a new route and stumble on an open area, seeing a hill in the distance and couldn't help but gawk at the beautiful area.

You cheerfully run towards the hill, taking a few breaths once you reached the top. From this height, you could see the beautiful view of the ocean, together with the breathtaking sunset. "Oh my..."

The sun continued to set as you watched from underneath the tree, sitting in a comfortable position. The comforting sounds of nature soon make you drift of to sleep.

A growl from the distance awakes you from your slumber. You jolt awake to see that the moon was already up in the sky. "Gosh, how many hours have passed?"

The sound of your voice summons another growl and you start to get nervous. You turn around and look down at the hill and see a big wolf that was twice your size, bright red eyes trying to scare you. However, you were too distracted at the sight of the furry animal.

"Oh my, It's a wolfy! Come boy, come!" you wave your hand, beckoning the wolf to come closer. It hesitates but slowly starts to approach you. "Here boy... I'm nice, I swear!"

The wolf is now in front of you sniffing your leg, you bring your hand to his neck and started scratching. "Aren't you a cutie~ I'm gonna name you-"

Your words were cut off as you watch the wolf get sliced in half, the blood splattering on your kimono.

"Tch."

A voice was heard from behind the wolf, you see a handsome man with four arms and eyes, marks which seemed like tattoos all over his body.

"Hey~ Why did you kill the wolfy?" you whined.

"Shut up, Human. What are you doing here?"

". . ."

He furrows his brows and growls, "Answer."

"But you said shut up." you smile playfully, clearly teasing him.

"You... Do you know who you're talking to?" He slowly approaches you.

He was trying to intimidate you with this slow steps but was shocked to see you stand up and walk over to him instead.

"Well, No! You haven't introduced yourself yet. I'm Y/N. What's your name?" you reach out your hand as you introduce yourself.

". . ."

". . ."

You watch as his four eyes stare at you, trying to figure you out. You smile up at him and put your hand down.

"Well you don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I still would like to know why you killed the cute wolf though..." you pout as you look over at the furry body in pieces.

"You foolish woman. That wolf was going to make you its dinner." he glares at you, "And this area here is mine. I slaughter everything and everyone that trespasses."

He raises one of his hands to kill you in one swoop, but stops as you perk up and grab one of his hands in joy.

"Oh, so you saved me?! Thank you, kind stranger." you give his hand a small squeeze to show your appreciation.

He stares at both of your hands together for a few seconds before he smacks your hand away, "Tch, How dare you touch me."

You pout as you rub your wrist, "Oh, my apologies . It was bad manners of me to grab you without asking. I'll do that next time!"

"Hah, next time?" He chuckled pure evil, "There will be no next time. Don't think you're coming out of here alive, human."

"That can't be, I have to repay you! You saved me, after all... Even though I don't have much influence, I'm still a princess!"

"Princess? Stop lying woman. The only child I know of royalty here is a prince."

"Yeah~ That's my brother!" you smile, unbothered that people weren't aware that there was a princess in the first place. "And I have a name, you know."

A few seconds of silence pass, him just staring at you. He scoffs and turns to walk away. "Leave."

You were about to retort back but realized how far in the night it is so you stand up and call out to him, "Hey~ I'll be back here tomorrow okay?"

You laugh as you see him turn his head to scowl at you.

The next day soon arrives and you're back at the same spot on the beautiful hill. You sit down under a tree and bask in the view.

The silence was interrupted by a familiar voice. "You have a death wish, huh?"

"Hey there! Come, sit!" you giggle and pat the spot next to him.

"Tch, this is where I usually sit, woman." He scoffs as he sits down, not showing he was curious at the human interacting with him.

"So... I heard a few guards talking about a certain king of the curses...." you side-eye him, smiling playfully. "Hehe, what even is your name?"

"Ryomen Sukuna. Remember the name of the one who's gonna kill you." He smirks.

"Then why haven't you killed me yet?" you tilt your head.

"I'll have my fun with you for now. You're quite the peculiar human."

"Oh, tell me in advance when you're gonna kill me then, Sukuna!"

"You..." he glares, "Do you not value your life?"

"Meh, not really... No one would miss me anyway." I frown, but a smile quickly replaces it, "So I've decided to just live to the fullest. If I die today, at least I had fun yesterday~"

Sukuna stays silent as he watches you cheerfully talk about death with his brows furrowed. You hum a tune while enjoying the comfortable silence for a few minutes and then turn to look at him.

Your lips part when you continue to stare at him, his features complimenting his handsome face. Sukuna, for some reason, found it hard not to look back at your stare. After a while, he turned his head to look back into your eyes.

You flinch as his eyes look into yours. Your cheeks tint at his intimidating state and you give him a shy smile.

"So... um... what's... your favorite color...?"

Silence fills the air at the random question, and your cheeks tint even more. You let out a small laugh at your own embarrassment.

Sukuna takes a peek at the warm flush of your cheeks and lets out a huff, "Red."

You whip your head to him and flash a bright smile, "That really suits you! Mine is white hehe~"

". . ."

"So... what do you like to ea-"

"Shut up."

You zip your lips shut and sit more comfortably next to him. The silence was so oddly comforting that you drifted off to sleep. Your head slowly leaning to to direction Sukuna was sitting.

His shoulder was too high for your small figure, so your head rested on the side of his arm. Sukuna looked down, careful not to move his arm. "Tch, unbelievable."

Although he looked annoyed, he didn't move his arm for the rest of his time there.

You wake up and your eyes slowly open. The sun in the horizon has just set and the moon is starting to peak into the sky. Your head lifts up from an... arm?

"Wha..." you let out a yawn.

You hear a scoff, "Why did you sleep for so long?"

"S-Sukuna?!"

You put the pieces together and realize that Sukuna let you sleep on his arm until you woke up. The thought of that making your cheeks warm.

"Sukuna... that's so sweet of you!" you show a downturned smile to express how grateful you were.

He scowls at you and in a blink, he disappears.

"He didn't even let me say bye..."

You arrive at the same spot under the tree on the hill. Surprisingly, you see Sukuna already there.

"You're here!~"

He opens two eyes to see your figure running towards him. He sighs and shuts his eyes again, slowly getting used to his human's presence.

You stop right in front of him, admiring his face once more, being less embarrassed now that his eyes were shut. Soon, you give into your temptation.

"Sukuna..."

He opens an eye.

"Can I touch you now? I asked first this time!" you clasp your hands and interwine your fingers to say please.

He scoffs and shuts the eye. You frown letting out a small 'Hmp' of sulk.

"I didn't say no."

You gasp in excitement and reach out your hands to his face. Your fingertips gently touch his face. You didn't notice the subtle flinch Sukuna did.

Your fingers trace the marks on his face. He exhales from his nose, the air hitting your skin making you feel warm inside. You slowly lift your thumbs to caress the area next to his bottom eyes, the rest of your fingers at the back of his ear. You couldn't help but hum a small 'woah~' in admiration.

"Your eyes are beautiful." Flustered at your own words, your cheeks tint in embarrassment.

His eyes open, both of you staring into each other. He glares at you and whips his head to the side, your hands still on his face. "How absurd."

"It's true..." You let out a chuckle and kneel down next to him. This time, you trace the marks on his arms.

What you didn't notice earlier was how Sukuna's cheeks warmed up at your compliment, with the same grumpy face. He shook his head and sighed, focusing on the feeling of your skin on his.

The rest of the day you just held onto his hand tracing lines and giving light massages while bringing up small conversation topics. He gave small answers, but you were overjoyed at your interactions.

Two weeks have gone by since then. As the days continued, Sukuna began to warm up more to you, talking to you in longer sentences and not telling you to shut up anymore. You were currently on your way to meet him again. Meanwhile, Sukuna was starting to realize his feelings for you.

"Princess Y/N, Please! Finish your food before you go!" The maid sighs as she watches you run away. She looks over at the unfinished plate, wondering what in the wilderness is so interesting to her highness.

As she takes a closer look in the plate, she gasps. "Oh my heavens! T-This is... The Princess is allergic to this!"

Without a care in the world, you skip towards Sukuna's spot, excited to meet your king of the curses.

"I'm here!"

Insted of sitting in his usual spot, he was standing near the cliff, looking at the horizon.

"Sukuna! you admiring the view?"

He doesn't reply and you look at his back, confused. The dark clouds in the sky let out a thunder.

"How dare you."

"W-What?"

He turns around and scowls, "How dare you make me feel- Ugh."

"Huh?" you say confused, raindrops start dropping on both of you.

In a flash, he disappears from where he was standing and was now in front of you. His hand swiftly attacks for your neck but he quickly stops and is an inch away from your skin.

You flinch, but don't move. you give him a chuckle.

"Sukuna... I told you in advance to tell me first before you kill me." you laugh.

He growls in frustration and puts his hands down. "Ugh..."

"But... As strange as it may seem, the time I spent with you was the happiest I've ever been. Thank you for showing me kindness, even in your own way. Farewell, Sukuna. I will never forget you!"

You stand on your tip toes and met your lips with his. It was just a gentle peck, but it sent shivers down her spine.

"Idiot."

As you pull away, content, you couldn't bring yourself to look him in the eyes. 'I wonder what face he's making right now', the thought making you smile. You grab the same hands that tried to attack you earlier and wrapped them around your neck.

"Huh?" you look up at him confused, only to be more confused as you analyzed his face.

'He looks... troubled? I'm not so sure'

He pulls his hands away from your neck and sighs. He grabs you arms and rests his head on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent. "What kind of sick curse is this..."

". . . Sukuna?"

Although he wasn't exactly hugging you, you wrap your arms around him and hug back. The rain hitting the both of you as you warm up in each other's arms.

". . . I'm confused, are you still killing me or not?"

". . . Pft."

You gawk as you hear Sukuna let out a chuckle. Seeing his lips turn up was a better view than the horizon behind them.

You look up at him and smile, "Hehe, you still haven't answered m-"

The moment was interrupted when you cough out blood. A sudden burning sensation you feel in your chest. You let go of him to hold your chest in pain, your body slouching as you groan.

"D-Damn...I-I shouldn't have-ugh... ate those."

"Y/N?!"

The sound of his name flow out of his voice made your heart flutter but the pain overpowers that.

"Agh-" You drop to the floor, "Don't w-worry, these are just allergies."

He gets on his knees and uses his reverse cursed technique to heal you from your suffering. The pain was too much for you to handle though, and you pass out in his arms.

You jolt awake in your room, looking around confused.

"Sukuna?"

You call out for him but nothing happens. His scent still lingering in the room so you're sure he tucked you back into bed.

You smile as your heart flutters, going back to sleep.

"Y-Your Highness! Are you sure you're okay?" your maid stutters as she hands you your breakfast the next morning.

"Yes yes~ Don't worry about lil' old me!"

You quickly finish your breakfast, wanting to see him as soon as possible. You quickly run and you arrive at the spot in no time and you see him there.

You don't even call out to him, you just run towards his sitting figure, bend over, and wrap your arms around his neck.

He jolts in surprise but immediately calms down as he takes a whiff of your hair.

"Sukuna, you saved me twice already. Thank you for yesterday." you smile, embarrassed to make eye contact with him.

He places a hand on your back to push your body into his. Now, you're straddling his lap and you stay in position.

You fidget your hands, "Ugh~ It's kinda awkward now after I did a whole farewell speech yesterday..." you whine as you recall the events yesterday.

"Yeah, you're farewell kiss too."

You blush and groan into his shoulder, clenching your fists in his robe in embarrassment.

"Hah, is the princess embarrassed? Look at me."

As if it was a spell, you comply immediately and shyly pull away to look at him.

He grabs your chin and pulls your face closer.

"You have to take responsibility for what you did yesterday." He smirks.

"R-Responsibility?!" you squeak.

"Don't think I'll be satisfied with a mere kiss, Princess."

He smashes his lips onto yours. Unlike the sweet and short peck, this was hot and passionate. His upper arms land on your waist and slides the up and down the side of your body.

You feel his tongue enter your mouth and you shift your hips to adjust your position, making you grind on his crotch. The friction making you both groan in pleasure, all of his blood rushing to the length under his robe.

"S-Sukuna." you couldn't help but whine his name in the middle of your tongues dancing. Hearing his name turns him on even more, and his hands go from your hips to sliding inside your kimono to grab hold of your breasts.

You let out a moan at his touch on your bare chest. His bottom arms sliding up your kimono underneath you, his hands traveling up to grope both cheeks of your ass. Wanting to touch him, your hands go down to his chest, sliding inside his robe to touch explore your hands around his bare chest and abs. Your touch making Sukuna groan and start grinding his hips underneath yours, you moan in his lips and grind on him as well.

His hands slide off your kimono, leaving you in your undergarments. The cool air hitting your skin, but you couldn't feel it from the heat of the intimate moment. His bottom hands start to tug on your panties and he whispers into your lips.

"You think you can handle me, Princess?"

You moan in confirmation, sliding off the top part of his robe and continuing to grind on him. He hisses in pleasure and rips off your panties and throw them to the side.

"Ah!" you squeak in embarrassment, pulling away and looking down at yourself, but what caught your eye is the visible bulge twitching underneath the fabric of his robe. You curiously grope it, causing a moan to slip off his mouth, and snatches your hand away.

"Later."

He grabs both of your wrists and pushes you to the clean grass. He looks up and down your naked body and smirks, feeling another twitch from his cock. His eyes landed on your pussy, already soaking wet.

His eyes darkens and he grins, ready to devour you. He brings a hand to your folds and run his fingers along the wetness dripping down your thighs. "How can you be this wet already?" he chuckles and inserts a finger inside, his other hands playing with your breasts.

The sensation making you moan in pleasure, the back of your hand covering your mouth in embarrassment. The moans continue when he starts thrusting the finger in a moderate motion. After a few seconds of adjusting, he shoves another finger in.

The sounds of his fingers fucking your wet pussy fill the air. He feels your walls clench and sees your body start to arch. He sees the way you were making a mess already just with his fingers. Your moans get whinier and he loses it.

He grunts and shoves the robe of his body and your eyes widen. You stare at his two cocks twitching in the air, gulping at its huge size. "S-Sukuna..."

"You want to stop?" you whine and shook your head immediately, "That's what I thought. Now come here, princess."

Not giving you enough time to process, he picks you up and puts him in the stradling position you were earlier in, the tip of his cock goes in and he thrusts inside.

"Ngh- Ah~ S-Sukuna." He grunts in reply, feeling your pussy clench in his hard cock.

"Fuck, princess."

The pleasure was nothing you ever felt before. You look down and see his other cock twitching against your stomach. You reach your hand to grab his length which causes his head to roll back in pleasure and let out a deep moan.

You pump his cock, while adjusting to the other cock that was already inside you. "Prince- Agh, Shit." Your hand going faster and faster, the sounds of his groans making your walls clench, making him groan even louder.

He grabs your hand to stop you. "I can't hold it anymore. I'm gonna destroy this tight little pussy, yeah?"

He grabs your hips and starts bouncing you up and down, his cock thrusting inside of you without mercy.

"Ah... Suku- Agh~" You were drowning in pleasure, eyes rolling back as you listen to the sounds of your wetness and both of your skins slapping against each other.

He was thrusting into you mercilessly, your mewls just making his climax come closer. He feels your walls clench uncontrollably and he moans your name.

"Y/N. Fuck- I'm going crazy" he huffs, acting like an animal in heat.

He pushes you back into the soft grass into a new position, bringing your knees to your chest, his cock thrusting into you sloppily. A visible bump in your belly when he thrusts inside. Two hands behind your knees. One hand rubbing your clit. One hand pumping his other cock.

"Agh~ T-There... Sukuna-"

He hits a certain spot causing your body to twitch and making your eyes water up from the pleasure.

Sukuna pounds faster into your pussy, his precum smeared along your soaked walls. You were letting him use your body and it felt so good.

You feel something building up inside of you, and you whine. "Ah- wait! Sukuna~ I- I-" you whine in pleasure as your body arches, your juices spilling into his cock.

"That's right, princess. Let it out." he coos into your ear. "My turn."

You gasp for air as he thrusts again into your sensitive pussy, making your mewl echo into the air. Your juices increase the sound of the wetness as he slaps his skin into yours, the mix of your arousals filling the air.

"Fuck- I should fill you up, huh? Breed my precious princess?"

"Agh- P-Please!~ I-"

He moans as he shoots his load into you and fill up your pussy, having both of your juices mixed up. His other cock also shooting cum onto your stomach. Your body twitches at the feeling of his seed inside you, grabbing both of his arms for support. He sighs in pleasure and pulls out, watching as the juices ooze out of your aching pussy.

"You did so good, Princess." is the last thing you hear before you pass out.

You flutter your eyes open to see a room that wasn't yours. Sukuna lying down next to you in bed. You look down on your clothed body to see you were cleaned up and well taken care of after.

"Sukuna..." you mutter, eyes still droopy "I can't move my legs~"

"Heh, you're gonna get used to it."

"Hm?" You tilt your head.

"You're mine now. This is the consequence of your actions, right? You can't escape now." He smirks as he picks you up and puts you on top of him.

You stare at him in shock then laugh, "Now why would I dare leave my king, he'll get lonely without me~"

You plant a sweet kiss on his lips and pull away to see a smile on his face. His smile making you feel warm inside as your cheeks tint. You giggle and snuggle into his arms and you enjoy each other's warm, and will continue to enjoy each other's presence in the future.

[m0chaminx]

Coriolanus Snow | “What about you?” “She's the star.” “Luckily I Like Roses.”

*•.¸♡Request: omg can you write a coryo x reader, i don’t mind what, just pls don’t make him go batshit crazy at the end😩😩

*•.¸♡Prompts: none

*•.¸♡Warnings: Coriolanus, I completely forgot the other Covey peoples names :I, reader is shorter than Snow, Cori isn't insane (ish), Snow is slight ooc, and yes he's a terrible person but you’re here too

*•.¸♡Paring: Coriolauns Snow x F!reader

*•.¸♡Summary: On Coriolanus’s trip down to the lake with the star Lucy Gray, he found the most beautiful rose ever seen

Or

Coriolanus pervs on you while swimming (romantic)

*•.¸♡Words: 1.1k

Part 2

Growing up in the Covey had been a stroke of luck, simple as it gets, when Lucy Gray Baird and her family had been forced into District 12 Seeing the talent you had with a guitar one night as you played to the darkness, they took you to their next show where you played alongside Lucy Gray. She was still the star, she had the smile, the voice, the charisma. You could sing when you needed to, and you played the guitar just as well, but she always took the spotlight. And when she strolled into town after winning the Hunger Games, that star power only grew. She was the star, until one sunny morning.

Mockingjay's sang into the wind, the warm sun beating against your skin and the gentle breeze made your sundress flow in the wind. Meeting Lucy and the others on the walk to the lake you came face to face with Coriolanus Snow. Buzzed blonde hair, sharp jawline and the bluest eyes you had ever seen. His smile was bright, and his laugh was as sweet as Lucy’s singing. And it should be, he was laughing at her jokes. Smiling at her. Before he could catch you staring your eyes had shifted quickly, focussing on Lucy as you walked to her side.

She beamed as she saw you, wrapping her arms tightly around you.

“Coriolanus, I want you to meet only the bestest person in the world,” Lucy went on, kissing you quickly on the cheek.

The same smile returned as he turned to shake your hand, his skin soft on your calloused palms. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” He spoke your name softly, the syllables dripping from his tongue like honey. Your hand slipped from his, the tips of his fingers running along your palm.

Lucy quickly ushered you and the rest of the group on, starting the long hike down the green hills. Lucy walked ahead with Aurora, talking wistfully into the wind. You walked in silence, one hand gripping the strap of your satchel as you watched the critters race up the branches of the trees.

“Lucy said you played the guitar,” Coriolanus spoke up, swatting away another mosquito. He walked beside you, his tall figure blocking the sun from your face. He looked down at you, his eyebrows furrowing slightly. “Why didn’t I see you performing last night?”

You simply shrugged. The answer was the crowds didn’t cheer for you, Lucy was the star, and she could play for hours without backup. But it sounded sad. You looked over the trees, the Mockingjay's flying higher into the trees. “Nothing special, you probably just missed me when I left.”

Coriolanus shook his head softly, “I feel like I’d remember you.” You couldn’t place what Coriolanus meant, your eyebrows furrowing as you thought over his words. You didn't say anything more after that, keeping your eyes ahead on the track leading to the lake.

As soon as the dock was close enough Aurora and Tip had stripped their clothes off and thrown themselves in the water. You tossed your bag down, the hot sun that had beat against your skin had made you more than happy to rush into the water. Tossing your sundress aside with your satchel you ran down the dock and dove under the crystal blue water. The cool lake chilled your skin enough to relieve the sun but not enough to raise goosebumps.

You swam up to the surface, pushed the hair back for your face and fixed the straps of your handmade bra that slid down your shoulder. Lucy jumped in after you, and with a yell, Coriolanus jumped in, the splash of water hitting your face. You laughed, using your arms to keep you afloat. Coriolanus muttered an apology through a smile, but you barely noticed as your eyes fell over his light skin, his collar bones and muscular shoulders.

The lake was sweet, a nice relief from the constant smell of coal and sweat, the rowdy crowds and the smell of liquor on everyone's breath. Some time later Lucy had swam to shore, helping Aaroa and Tip fish and dig up Katniss' roots.

You floated on your back, the gentle waves lapping at your skin as the sun warmed your face. Coriolanus sat on the edge of the dock, toying with his fingers as he watched you. The wind blew the waves softly, the sun reflecting on your skin like liquid gold. He pushed himself off the dock, slipping below the cold water once again. “Can I hear you sing?” His voice made you turn your head to look at him.

“I don’t sing,” You muttered, turning your head to face the sun again.

“Lucy said you sing.”

You turned to swim properly, treading water. “If you wanna hear someone sing you should ask Lucy,” You insisted. You pushed yourself closer, slipping your fingers under the slim metal chain of his dog tags, untangling the knot. You moved it to hang properly from his neck, your nails dragging ever so slightly across his soft skin.

His icy blue eye moved from your hand on his skin and looked up at your face, droplets of water falling from your hair, and slipping down your skin and when they hit your lips, you swiped them away with your tongue. “I wanna hear you sing.” His eyes snapped up to meet yours as you lifted her gaze from the metal chain.

You chuckled softly and he swore it sounded like the sweetest melody, a honeydew sound that he couldn't help but smile at. “You’re funny Coriolanus Snow,” you said softly. “Turning down the winner of the Hunger Games. A true victor.”

Coriolanus wiped a hand down his face, wiping away the water running over his eyes. “What about you?” He asked.

You shook your head softly. “She’s the star, the songbird,” You insisted, unsure you were convincing him or yourself. His smile made your stomach flip, his gaze made your cheeks burn, but his words… his honey words.

His hand slowly reached out, his fingers slipping beneath the strap of your bra and sliding it back up your shoulder. His hand lingered there for a moment before falling back into the water. “Luckily I like roses.”

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[princessbrunette]

⊹ ᜊ(ᜊ ´ ˘)੭ ♡ … when i’m in your arms ♡

you really missed stepbro!rafe. yes, he was usually mean and cruel and perverted — but being on a girls trip with your friends for a few weeks had really put things into perspective for you and now you were attached. arriving home to tanny hill, you wanted nothing more than to see him. ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১

you knew he’d be the only one at home and not at work, which is why you dropped your suitcase by the front door and barrelled right through to the kitchen where you could hear movement.

“rafe?” you appear, and the tall dusty blonde turned around from where he was rifling in the refrigerator, complaining about the lack of groceries in a mutter under his breath. you couldn’t help yourself, as soon as you saw him in full you were flying across the room to throw your arms around him, nuzzling right in.

before you even get the chance to enjoy his warmth, he is prying you off by the shoulders with a confused expression.

“the fuck are you —”

“i missed you!” you beam up at him, eyes all hopeful and big in the way that made him wanna melt.

“you missed m— kid, you disappear for two weeks without so much as a text. now you wanna talk about some ‘i missed you’? nah…” he lifts a hand, stepping back to walk around you. a pout finds your face quickly, brows furrowing. this was not how you thought this was going to go down.

“dont be silly rafe, i told you i was going on this trip.”

“really ‘cus i don’t remember any of that.” he shrugs, mouth turned downwards. tilting your head, you sigh and attempt to approach once more.

“rafe… c’mon.” you mewl and he softens, still eyeing you suspiciously as you approach, fiddling with the buttons on his shirt.

“whats with all this touchy shit, huh? went on your slutty little trip with your girlfriends and none of the guys out there could fuck you right, is that it?” he drawls with a glare, trying to restrain himself with a slow exhale when you press your body to his, hand wandering down to his belt.

“didnt fuck anyone… i told you, i just missed you. was so mean to you before i left… never let you touch me…” you sigh wistfully and he wets his lips, eyes now focused on the way you slowly unbuckle his belt.

“yeah… god damn right about that… so now what, you gonna let me do what i want? huh?” he asks quietly, righteously. knowing you had him where you wanted him you smile, biting down on your bottom lip with those big needy doe eyes and nod your head eagerly up at him. “alright. s’bout damn time. go to my room, i’ll be there in a second.”

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

i’m visualizing a fic where reader goes off to fight with their dragon and comes back to jace being furious that she would endanger herself and feelings are revealed…. can you make that happen? xx🙈

Request: Being dragonseed and getting close to jace during the trainings. Maybe she claimed silverwing or vermithor? She goes to battle while he is not there and jace is STRESSED

Request: Jace sneaking out to check on the girl he secretly loves

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

When Jacaerys took it upon himself to teach and train the dragonseeds, he didn’t think his loyalty to his betrothed would be challenged. Since the beginning of war, his bond with Baela became stronger and they got closer, but as he watched you atop Silverwing, hair in the wind and soaring over the water, he felt things he never felt before. 

Was it the blood of the dragon, although thin, that was calling to him? Or was it the sight of a woman on a large dragon? Jacaerys couldn’t tell. What he knew was that he never felt that way when Baela was riding Moondancer. 

‘’What do you mean, she went to the Riverlands?’’ he shouted at his mother, all manners forgotten.

Rhaenyra met his glare with a calm gaze. ‘’The Greens are marching up to Harrenhal. I sent her to meet their army before they reach the Riverlands.’’

‘’And what of Vhagar?’’ Jacaerys continued, his voice rising as he thought of the beast that had devoured his little brother and his dragon in a single bite. ‘’They know Daemon has taken Harrenhal. Undoubtedly, they brought their biggest dragon to fight him.’’

Rhaenyra hummed thoughtfully. ‘’It is a high possibility, but Silverwing is a large dragon, as you said yourself. Y/N will handle Vhagar if Aemond dares showing up.’’

‘’She is not ready to go to battle.’’ Jacaerys’s fists clenched at his sides, making up the worst scenarios in his mind. ‘’You sent her to her death!’’

‘’I needed to send a dragon. It was Silverwing or Vermithor.’’

‘’Why did you not send Vermithor?’’ 

‘’Because I didn’t want to reveal our biggest asset to the enemy,’’ Rhaenyra said, her brow furrowing as she noticed her son’s agitation. ‘’Why are you so agitated? The dragonseeds were your idea, Jace. We have to send them on the battlefield at some point.’’

The reasons the search for dragonseeds began was to get more dragons on their team, but also to not risk their own in battle by using those with blood 'thinner' than their own as fodder. It was selfish and evil, but losses are inevitable during a war. Better be a stranger than someone you love. 

But now, his plan had backfired.

‘’She’s not just a dragonseed!’’ Jacaerys snapped, his eyes blazing with anger and worry. ‘’She’s—’’ He stopped himself, realizing how much he had revealed in his fury and the implication of what he was about to say. 

Rhaenyra spoke his name softly, finally figuring the nature of her son’s worries, but he turned away, unable to look his mother in the eye. 

⁂

When night came, Jacaerys was unable to sleep, tossing and turning in his bed. All he could think about was you fighting against Vhagar…and losing. 

If you didn’t return from the Riverlands, he would never forgive himself for encouraging you to claim Silverwing. 

Finally, Jacaerys could not take it anymore. He sprung out of his bed, changed into his riding clothes and slipped on a cloak. Quietly, he sneaked out of his quarters and started heading towards the hills where he knew Vermax liked to sleep. Rhaenyra would be furious in the morning when finding out he went to the Riverlands without her approval, but he needed to go to you. 

‘’Lyka (quiet), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys said as he mounted the dragon, not wishing to alert anyone of his nightly adventure. The poor thing was whining and confused why his rider was waking him, but obeyed his command. 

They set out into the night, flying towards the northwest. The wind was cold, biting through Jacaerys' cloak, and the darkness was absolute with no moon to guide their way. The only sound was the rhythmic beating of Vermax's wings, cutting through the icy air.

After what felt like hours of flying blindly in the night, Vermax began to screech, a high-pitched, urgent sound that pierced the silence.

‘’Sagon gīda (be calm), Vermax,’’ Jacaerys commanded, trying to calm his dragon. But Vermax continued screeching, his eyes darting around as if he had seen something human eyes couldn’t. ‘’What is it, Vermax?’’ 

Vermax's screeches grew louder, more insistent, and Jacaerys felt a surge of unease. He strained his eyes, peering into the inky blackness, but saw nothing. He knew that dragons had senses far keener than humans, capable of detecting things long before they were visible.

‘’What do you see?” he muttered, more to himself than to Vermax, as he tried to understand his dragon’s distress.

Vermax couldn't understand the common tongue, but his behavior made it clear that something was wrong. He twisted his head, sniffing the air, and let out another screech, this one more urgent and filled with warning.

Jacaerys suddenly realized what it could mean: Vermax had detected the scent of another dragon. 

His heart pounded in his chest as he tightened his grip on the reins, scanning the dark skies for any sign of movement. The thought of encountering Vhagar in the pitch-black night sent a shiver down his spine. He tightened his grip on the handles, trying to steady both his dragon and himself.

Then, through the darkness, he saw a faint, silvery glimmer. Realization struck him hard. 

‘’Silverwing,’’ he breathed, understanding now what Vermax had sensed. 

Immediately, Jacaerys commanded Vermax to descend. He didn’t know where he was, but he knew that he had not reached the Riverlands yet. If Silverwing was down here, it could mean you were injured. Dragons were known to stay by their rider's side and guard them when they were vulnerable — or dying.

The prince's heart raced as they descended, his mind filled with worry. As soon as Vermax touched ground, he dismounted and scanned the area frantically, searching for you. 

Silverwing screeched loudly when Jacaerys got close, the sound stirring you from your sleep and snapping into alert. You reached for your dagger sheated at your hip, ready to stab whoever would try to get close.

‘’It’s me,’’ Jacaerys quickly said before you could touch him. 

‘’Prince Jacaerys?’’ you said with a frown. ‘’Has Her Grace sent you looking for me?’’

Jacaerys stayed silent. His mother did not care much for you — or any of the dragonseeds. 

The sight of blood on your hands sent his heart into a frenzy. ‘’Are you hurt? What has happened?’’ 

He kneeled beside you, and you let out a small hiss. ‘’I'm not on my deathbed, my Prince,’’ you reassured. ‘’I saw the Green's army marching to the Riverlands. They were definitely surprised to see a new dragon had been claimed by the Blacks. I engaged in battle, burning several of them, but their archers started shooting arrows at us. Silverwing dodged them the best she could, but I received one in my leg…’’ You glanced down where the arrow used to be, blood seeping through your clothes and down your leg. ‘’I know I should not have taken it out, but the pain was too much.’’ 

‘’It’s okay.’’ Jacaerys drew his sword to cut a piece of his cloak to make a bandage for your leg. ‘’All that matters is that you’re alive.’’ He began wrapping the piece of his cloak tightly around your wounded leg, but not so tight it would cause you more pain. ‘’I…I was worried about you.’’ 

You raised an eyebrow at the prince. ‘’Me?’’

He looked at you for a moment, his gaze flickering between your face and your wounded leg. ‘’Don't do that again. Going alone in a battle. What is Vhagar had been there?’’

‘’Why? Because I’m a woman?’’ 

‘’No.’’ Jacaerys shook his head. ‘’No, that’s not— When I didn’t see you at training this morning, I thought you were in the village helping your parents with the sheeps. But Baela informed me that you had been sent to the Riverlands at first light to meet the Greens and all I could think about was Rook’s Rest. What Vhagar did to Luke, and Rhaenys… Gods, if you were the next to fall, I would not handle it.’’

You huffed, not believing him. ‘’Aren’t I just a paw in your mother’s war? I’m not stupid, my Prince. Dragonseeds don’t matter to Her Grace. She just want the power of our dragons.’’ 

‘’I care. I care about you. I care so much about you that I could not sleep without knowing if you were okay. I would not have taken flight in the middle of the night if I didn’t care about you.’’

His words hung in the dark night, the air filled with his confession. Your heart stuttered in your chest as you processed his sudden confession. This conversation felt like forbidden territory. You were a shepherd’s daughter and he was a highborn prince, betrothed to a princess.

‘’You…you shouldn’t say things like that,’’ you finally murmured, averting your eyes from the intensity of his gaze. You tried to hide the fact that his words made you feel things you shouldn’t.

Jacaerys took a deep breath, then slowly reached out to tilt your chin, his fingertips gently tracing over your skin. ‘’I should, because it’s how I feel.’’ He leaned closer. His fingers grazed your cheek, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

‘’What of Baela?’’ you managed to ask, your heart beating wildly in your chest, torn between desire and loyalty.

He shook his head, his gaze locked with yours. ‘’I don’t feel strongly for Baela the way I do for you,’’ he confessed.

—

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[radioactiveparker]

The Boy Next Door - Mechanic!Eddie Munson X Fem!Reader (Smut)

Summary - You make a compromise with your new neighbour that grants him desirable compensation.

Warnings - Strong Language / Voyeurism / Public / Oral (M & F Receiving) / Face Fucking / Deep Throating / Spitting / Slapping / Dacryphilia (?) / Praise Kink / Degradation / Fingering / Cum Eating / Squirting / Multiple Orgasms / Anal (?) / Spanking / Creampie

Word Count - 5.2K

~~~~~

You couldn't stand it anymore.

Another cough of an engine. Another bang on the hood. Another squeak of a wrench. You were gonna lose it. You had been lying in bed for almost an hour, trying to drown out the incessant sounds. You had listened to music on your Walkman, but you couldn't seem to turn it loud enough. You had shut all the windows of your trailer despite the sweltering summer heat and even almost suffocated yourself when covering your ears with your pillow.

Nothing seemed to work.

You had only moved into Hawkins' Forest Hills Trailer Park about a week ago, and this was the fourth night in a row this had occurred. You had yet to meet any of your neighbours, but you knew that there was one that you already couldn't stand. You wondered how the others put up with it, or perhaps they were so used to it that it never bothered them anymore. You had yet to get to that point.

Bang! Bang! Bang!

Clank!

Squueeaakk!

Enough was enough. With a frustrated huff, you threw the covers off yourself, leaving you in a not-so-modest tank top and shorts. It was much too warm for anything else this time of year, and you were far too vexed to change. You flung the front door open and stormed your way out of the trailer.

It was still relatively light out. The sun sat low, lighting the western sky in a golden glow, and the daytime moon had risen high above Hawkins, ready to snuff out the sun's tenacious flame. The chill of the impending nighttime air sent shivers along your hot skin, cooling you down from being stuffed in your unventilated bedroom.

Outside the trailer on your left, a handsome man, roughly the same age as you, had his head buried in the engine of a car. He took a step back, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, and eyed his work so far. His brow creased, and his lip twitch with dissatisfaction. You admired the soft waves of his hair as he raked a hand through it, accidentally pulling some strands loose from its bun. His arms were exposed in his oil-stained wife beater. The ripple of his toned muscles enamoured you as they moved, and you took a fancy to the tattoos that adorned them. His eyes were deep and earthy like potted soil, glistening in the setting sun, making them swirl like pools of honey. The sloping bridge of his nose scrunched with a disgruntled sniff, and his plum bottom lip was tucked between his teeth in concentration. You were captivated by their movement as they soundlessly shaped his words, when suddenly a hand waved at your face.

"Can I help you?" He impatiently repeated for a third time, snapping you out of your trance.

Your mouth bobbed open as you tried to remember why you were out here in the first place. You hated that you had put that furrow across his brow as he waited for your response, itching to get back to work. Your cheeks felt unbearably hot, turning you molten from the top downwards and melting under his gaze. You feared he was far too handsome to stay mad at.

You cleared your throat, "Yeah, could you keep it down, please? I'm trying to sleep."

His eyes softened ever so slightly. "Sorry, sweetheart, I've got a deadline to meet, and I work through the day. It's the only chance I get to work on it." And he went back to work as if that was a good enough answer.

You scoffed, irritation slowly rising again. You told yourself it didn't matter how hot his grease streaked muscles were. "Listen, I've got a job interview tomorrow morning that I'd rather not miss because I overslept."

"Congratulations, I hope it works out for you." There was a strain in his voice as he tightened another bolt, oblivious to the point you were trying to make. You clearly weren't getting anywhere with this guy.

"How about a compromise then? You can keep working but just promise to keep it down?"

He looked up at you over the hood of his car with those big brown eyes that were hard to resist melting for. He raised his eyebrows challengingly before stalking towards you, wringing his hands on an old rag. Your heart quickened, and you refrained from squeezing your thighs together when he licked his pink lips and threw the rag over his wide shoulder. He towered over you, close enough for you to smell his manly musk and see the drops of sweat trickle down the delicious skin of his neck that you so desperately wanted to sink your teeth into.

"I'm afraid I can't do that, sweetheart. It's not exactly an easy task to do quietly." He spoke to you, but his eyes not-so-subtly gawked down your shirt (his vantage point giving him a direct view down it), only locking eyes with you when he had finished talking.

You resisted rolling your eyes - men were so easy to read. So you played into it. You arched your back slightly to push out your breasts, the cool breeze perking your nipples through your top, and rested a flirty hand on his bicep.

"Surely you deserve a break?" You stroked a finger down his arm teasingly and batted your lashes at him. "I mean, you said it yourself. You work all through the day, and now you're working all through the night? Even a strong, hard-working man like you needs to have a break sometimes."

His eyes lingered on your pouted lips, just long enough for you to catch him. His eyes darted around with every thought as he considered your proposition before staring at you intently. "If I do this for you, what do I get out of it? I'm gonna need some sort of compensation for the delay I'm gonna have."

You played with the hem of his tank top, tugging it playfully and revealing the defined muscles of his pecks. You were having far too much fun toying with this handsome stranger, and his devilishly good looks only made it that much easier to play your part. Besides, you thought he deserved it after causing you so many sleepless nights.

"I'm sure you can think of a way for me to thank you." You whispered seductively.

"You mean like a..." He looked around cautiously to make sure there was no one to overhear. "A you-know-what?" He whispered.

"A 'you-know-what'?" You laughed at his phrasing. "That all depends."

You spun in the direction of your trailer whipping your hair so he could smell the addictive scent of your shampoo. You swayed your hips as you walked back to your trailer. You were pretty sure that your ass cheeks were showing under your shorts, but that just made you all the more enticing.

"Depends on what?" He called, standing there like a lost puppy.

You skipped up the steps and peeked your head out the door. "On how good a night's sleep I get." You winked and shut the door.

~~~~~

The sun beamed just as brightly as it had the day before, yet you didn't let the sticky, stifling heat ruin your mood. You pranced out of your car, stilettos in one hand, and your most professional blazer draped over your arm in an attempt to cool down.

You practically danced up the steps to your trailer when a voice called out. "Hey! How did the interview go?"

You turned to see your neighbour from last night jogging towards you. He looked every bit as handsome as he had been the night before, only in the heat of the early afternoon sun he had decided to go shirtless. Your eyes shamelessly surveyed his exposed torso. His skin was smooth and glowing golden from working outdoors all day. He had more tattoos decorating his toned muscles that trailed down to his happy tail and v lines. You resisted raking your hands along his chiselled body.

"Great!" You beamed, "they said they were gonna call me back tomorrow."

He nodded. It was nice of him to ask, but you knew he was interested in something else. "And erm, how did you sleep?"

Your mood just got even better. You'd had a semi-decent sleep last night, but with the nerves for your interview, you could hardly keep still. But that didn't really matter to you anymore. The swell of pride from a successful interview was enough to keep your adrenaline charged up.

Despite flirting with your neighbour last night, you'd had no intentions of offering him any 'compensation', even if he had held up his end of the bargain. But after your interview went so ridiculously well, you decided that you deserved a little treat for yourself.

And by little, you meant a 6ft, tall, dark, and handsome treat.

You smirked, stalking towards him, and wrapped your free arm around his neck to pull him down to your level.

"Like a baby." You whispered in his ear.

A dangerous smile spread on his face. He bravely rested his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against him. You rested your hand on his chest to steady yourself. He drew himself closer and closer until your lips barely brushed together.

"Do you wanna come inside?" You whispered against his lips before they could touch.

"Oh boy, do I." He replied dreamily.

You tried not to blush at the unintentional double meaning and lead him inside of your trailer.

You were suddenly very embarrassed by the state of your home. While you had all of the basic furniture set out, you had yet to properly decorate, and you still had moving boxes dotted around your home. Luckily, Eddie didn't seem phased by any of this. You doubted he even gave himself a chance to look around because the second he stepped inside, he pounced on you. Your shoes and blazer fell from your hands as you wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him closer. His lips latched onto yours desperately, biting and tonguing you messily with an urgency that left you breathless.

His large hands had no intentions of resting as they raked up and down your body eagerly, already untucking your blouse from your skirt and popping the buttons open. Your hands were hardly any better. You scratched your nails lightly along his pecks and down the deliciously compact muscles woven over his stomach. You felt him all over as if you were applying an imaginary balm over the expanse of his hot flesh. His skin was tacky with sweat from the midday heat, but that didn't stop you from wanting your tongue all over his body.

"What's your name?" You breathed between kisses.

"So you know what to scream later?" He mused, forcing his tongue between your lips.

You moaned around it before pulling away. Your tone sparked with frisky playfulness. "Why else would I ask?"

His laugh rumbled against your lips before he moved back to look at you. His eyes locked onto yours with a dazzling intensity. Your breath stuttered in your throat. His intense beauty overwhelmed you for a moment, and you wondered if the Goddess of Love had carved him herself.

"It's Eddie." He smiled softly. "What's yours?"

"Eddie." You repeated to yourself, testing how the name tasted in your mouth. You liked how it felt on your tongue.

Eddie.

You told him your name, and he smiled like you had handed him his favourite flower.

"Beautiful." He murmured to no one in particular before he latched his mouth onto yours once more.

It was as if you had never taken pause. The intensity of the kiss was just as strong as it had been before, if not stronger. The two of you seemed more desperate somehow, like exploring each others mouths was how you would become akin - tasting each others memories, sucking up stories and lapping up every word from the tips of your tongues.

You pulled away from his kiss as he pushed your blouse off your shoulders and began suckling the salty skin of his neck. You could feel your core swelling at the hitch in his breath. It didn't occur to you how difficult it would be for him to hide your hickeys and you only hoped that he would choose to display your artwork instead.

Your hands continued lower until they stopped at the waistband of his jeans. You reached for his belt, only to find it already unbuckled and his buttons undone. He gave you a smile with far too much amusement for him to feign sheepishness effectively. You managed to wipe that smile off his face, however, as your hand compelled itself to burrow into his boxers. His eyes flashed with surprise at your boldness before they rolled into his skull. You revelled in satisfaction as his face rippled with pleasure. You bit your lip to stop yourself from moaning at the weight of him in your hand; thick and heavy, just weeping to be engulfed by any of your tight little holes. With your other hand, you pulled his zipper the rest of the way down to let his jeans fall to his ankles, and you allowed yourself to fall with them.

It was only when you rested on your knees and could see between Eddie's legs that you noticed your front door was still wide open and the two of you were entirely exposed before it. You felt a surge of arousal shoot through your veins. There were no trailers opposite yours, and you looked out directly to the road. There was no one around, however. Nearly the entirety of Hawkins would be at the community pool on a day like this, but that did nothing to dampen the rush of getting caught. You quickly unclasped your bra and threw it to the side. Your nipples perked almost instantly as if testing the waters of how much you could get away with, challenging somebody to drive by - to stop and watch. The exposure had so much slick dribbling onto your panties that you feared for a brief moment that you had wet yourself with excitement. Eager to continue, you forced his boxers down so his fat, throbbing cock sprung in your face.

It was beautifully red and crying pearly tears of desperation that you lapped up hungrily, not wanting a drop to go to waste. Eddie hissed at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut in pleasure and running his fingers through your hair. He didn't force you on his cock like he wished he could, but instead he brushed your hair from your face, angling your head so you looked up at him through your eyelashes and pulled on your chin to open your mouth. And you did all of this willingly, practically drooling just imagining the sweaty, salty taste of his cock sliding down your throat. You stuck out your tongue eagerly and allowed him to slap the head of his cock on your warm wet muscle. Eddie didn't want to be rough with you. He'd only just met you - he didn't even know if you liked it rough. But there was a fierceness blazing in your eyes, challenging him to do his worst.

And when Eddie couldn't stand anymore of his own self-teasing, he forced his entire length all the way down your throat in one fell swoop, and it welcomed him without hesitation. He released an animalistic groan at the feeling of the fleshy walls constricting around his large shaft with a gag. You sniffed the tears from your eyes when he slid from your throat, a pop reverberating from your trailer walls from the suction of your cheeks. He allowed you a few breaths before snaking his way down your oesophagus and into your lungs. He held himself there before testing a few small thrusts. The force of his hips pushed him impossibly deeper as he stole the air from your chest. You tapped his leg for him to release you but he held the back of your head firmly, forcing his cock to remain sheathed inside your heaving gullet. You could feel the pressure burning your temples as you whined around Eddies length, begging him for air. He pulled you back by your hair, his cock throbbing as he watched you cough and splutter for air, tears rolling down your cheeks and a string of spit running from his cock to your chin. He positioned your head so your face was pointed directly at the ceiling. He hovered above you admiring the enjoyment on your face.

"Open." He demands.

You did as you were told, opening your mouth wide and sticking out your tongue. You expected him to force himself back down your throat, but instead, he violently spat into your mouth. The majority of it landed on your tongue, but a few splashes landed on your cheeks and chin. But that didn't matter when Eddie used the head of his cock to swipe it all up and ram it down your throat. He repeated it a few times, making sure he got it all off your face before prodding the head of his cock into the inside of your cheek. He kept it there and spat on his length, watching it run down his shaft and into your fuckable mouth.

He gave your cheek a few quick taps, moaning as he felt the bulge of his cock through it. He did it again, harder this time, testing how hard you would let him go until he was full on slapping his cock through your face. He loved the heat blooming on your abused cheek, hoping to smack a matching one on your ass soon, and your tears had his eyes rolling back. It was all too much and not enough for him.

He immediately plunged back into you, setting a brutal pace, the blunt head of his cock bruising your throat. You gagged and moaned and cried around his length, but none of it was an attempt to make him stop.

Eddie could feel himself reaching his climax dangerously quickly. The soft walls of your throat were so irresistible that he couldn't help himself but pound into your face. He was moaning wildly and panting heavily. He found himself infatuated by the way the sunlight reflected off the sweat, spit, and tears on your face, glistening like the stones of a babbling brook.

A swift breeze swept in from behind and he moaned at the feeling of it cooling the spit on his hot length. It was only then that he too noticed the door was still wide open.

Dirty fucking girl he thought to himself.

You had been facing the door this whole time and knew it was open, yet made no attempt to confide yourselves in the safety of your home. Holding onto the back of your head, he pulled you towards the door, positioning the two of you so you were side on. The two of you were completely exposed, and there was definitely no question about what the two of you were doing. The thought of getting caught, picturing people gathering and watching in shock, and even people filming on their video cameras were all so arousing to Eddie. His cock throbbed in agreement.

He so desperately wanted someone to walk by.

To see the kind of power he could have.

The new girl in town was a whore for the town freak.

Eddie liked that idea very much.

It was almost enough to send him over the edge, but he forced himself to stop. He removed himself from you, and you gasped for breath. His hand gently cupped your cheek, brushing the tears from your face with a glaze of adoration over his irises.

"You're fucking incredible." He praised. "Such a good fucking girl. How lucky am I to of found someone like you."

His praises had your juices dripping on the floor, integrating with the other fluids that dripped from your face. You smiled drunkenly at his words, and your chest warmed with pride.

"Stand up for me, sweetheart." Eddie held out a hand to help you up.

You stood on two shaky legs, already feeling the bruises forming on your knees. When you raised to your full height, Eddie immediately pushed his lips to yours, licking into your mouth to taste himself on your tongue.

"I know how much you want me to cum down that pretty little throat of yours, baby, but I just gotta be inside you."

You moaned a sigh, your cunt already clenching in anticipation.

"You're such a dirty girl aren't you sweetheart? Just look at how desperate you are for my cock. You want me to fill you up? Pump you full of my cum?"

"Yes." You whimpered, throat raw and hoarse.

He turned you around, pressing you against the door frame so half the length of your body leaned outside. You couldn't help the jolt of anxiety that struck you in the chest. As Eddie pushed his front to your back, you couldn't help but take a glance at your surroundings to make sure nobody was there.

"Let them see."

"Huh?"

"It doesn't matter if there's people. Let them see. Let them see this perfect fucking body. Let them wish it was them fucking this sweet little cunt instead of me."

You could have came from his vulgar words alone. You nodded obediently and let him bunch your skirt up around your waist. Eddie released a devilish laugh at the juices running down your legs. His fingers toyed with your clothed folds, spreading the slick along the damp material and gliding effortlessly over your aching clit. You moaned at the relief but quickly drew a hand over your mouth to muffle it.

"Ah, ah, ah." Eddie tutted, forcefully gripping both of your wrists and pinning your arms behind your back. He was able to hold both wrists in one of his large hands whilst he used the other to tug your panties around your ankles.

Without warning, he plunged two long fingers into your tight heat, stretching you wide with his thick fingers. You whimpered at the sensation. You could only imagine what his cock would feel like. You could feel it now, in fact, burning red hot against the supple cheek of your ass.

His fingers moved frustratingly slow in and out of your aching hole, curling them when it reached his knuckles. Your juices squelched out of you with every breach and dripped down his forearm. After a few minutes of pleasureful torture, he pulled his fingers from you and sucked on them hungrily.

"Fuck, I gotta have a taste of that." He whispered to himself, and squatted down so his face was level with your dripping cunt.

He still had one hand holding your wrists to the small of your back, but his other hand pulled at your thigh, encouraging you to take a step back so you could bend over more. As you did, you found yourself spreading your legs wider too, letting him see how your gaping pussy winked at him with every clench. Your pussy glistened just as beautifully as your face had when it was caked in tears and spit, only your pussy cried to be absolutely assaulted by his cock. And he would give that to you eventually.

But not right now.

Instead, he used two fingers to spread your folds apart and gently peek your clit out from under its hood. That feeling alone was enough to make your legs start trembling again. So when he licked a powerful stripe over you, you just lost it completely.

His mouth practically molested your pulsing cunt. He tongued messily over your clit, nibbled at your folds and plunged his tongue as far into your pathetic hole as he could. His nose prodded at your asshole with every swipe of his tongue, causing you to push your hips back into him.

"Eddie, please." You begged him to relent - to just fuck you senseless.

"Oh no sweetheart, not until you cum on my tongue. Be a good girl, and let me taste you."

And with that he suckled onto your clit like a calf at its mother's teet. He was harsh and sedulous, in a single-minded frenzy for you to grant him a taste of your sweet elixir straight from the source. You grant him that wish gladly, feeling it trickle from you in a steady stream following each clench of your orgasming cunt.

Eddie drank it all up eagerly, slurping your pussy to get every last drop out of you. His eyes sparkled with both amusement and desire. He had slept around with a handful of women, true. But he had never seen a woman squirt before.

He was addicted already.

He felt it had become his life's purpose to watch you squirt for him over and over again until there was nothing left inside of you.

His cock was practically purple at this point, and it dribbled lazily onto the floor. He needed to feel you spasming on his cock, drenching his length with your squirt.

You were too high to be embarrassed about how quickly he had made you cum. He barely gave you time to recover from your orgasm before he forced his cock to fit inside of your quivering cunt. You weren't trying to resist, his cock was just simply too big.

And he was hardly halfway in.

You cried at the stretch, moans slipping in between sobs. At the sound, Eddie couldn't resist anymore. He spat harshly where your bodies met before using your arms to force you backwards onto his full length. A sudden sharp pain bolted through your core, and you released a strangled cry. But he did not stop.

Your cries spurred him on, and he drove himself harder and faster into you. His breath was a ragged growl in your ear as he bent his body over yours. He bit and sucked on your neck and shoulders with a severity that delighted you. There was no tenderness in any of his actions. He was a ravenous animal feasting on your flesh, doing with your body as he pleased.

But you did not want him to be gentle.

Don't stop. Don't stop. Don't stop.

You would tell him if you could, but the pain had snatched away your voice. In the beginning, it blazed like a fire, burning up any innocence that was left within you. Until pleasure snuffed out that raging flame. Instead, the embers glowed hotly deep in your core.

You moaned wildly like a whore at every harsh thrust. If, for some reason, any of your neighbours were sat indoors, they would undoubtedly be able to hear what was going on. That only egged you to moan louder. Eddies name rolled repeatedly from your lips with only gasps and grunts between each one. Eddie loved that the entire trailer park could hear you screaming his name. He hoped his annoying neighbour Travis, who had come to Eddie earlier in the day, boasting about how he was gonna ask the hot new chick out, was sat weeping pathetically as he jerked off to you moaning another man's name.

"Oh fuck baby."

"That feels so good, baby."

"Baby, I'm so close."

"Nuh hun, you know what my name is, sweetheart. Say it."

Every stroke pushed the breath from your lungs, expelling the air from you in arousing moans.

"Say it." He slaps a demanding hand to the cheek of your ass.

He pounded harder, only making it more difficult for you. The best you could do was a pathetic whimper. He slapped your ass again before yanking your head backwards by your hair until your body released from the doorframe, and he was the only thing holding you up.

His lips pressed to your ear. "Be a good girl and say it."

Your mouth hung open, eyes squeezed shut tight in pleasure as you panted wildly. He released your arms from your back and used his thumb to gather your creamy spend that had ringed around his cock as he thrusted. He circled your tight asshole with a light pressure before forcing it inside. It sucked him in gladly and he moaned loudly as he felt himself thrusting inside of you.

"Fuck Eddie!"

"That's it, sweetheart. That's my good girl. Say it again."

Your legs shook violently beneath you, causing Eddie to wrap his other arm around you to keep you up right. His hips never faulterd once, clapping loudly against your ass. Your head was spinning from feeling completely filled to the brim.

"Fuck! Eddie!"

Your pleasure was swelling deeply within you, expanding like a balloon seconds away from bursting. Eddie could feel both of your holes struggling to tighten around him as you orgasm tietered on the precipice.

"C'mon sweetheart, be a good girl and soak my cock."

His words send you over the edge. Your eyes rolled so far back into your skull that you wondered for a moment whether you had just blacked out from pure ecstacy. Eddies hips remained ferocious as your walls milked him for all he's worth. The feeling of you spasming around him, your squirt soaking his cock, splashing everywhere with each thrust and running down his legs was enough to have him shoot his thick load deep inside of you.

"Eddie!" You moaned at the feeling, somehow feeling fuller than ever.

"What was that?" A voice called from the distance.

Approaching footsteps caused you to rush in a flurry of panic as you pushed Eddie inside and slammed the door shut, leaving the stranger to wonder whether they had missed the rain seeing the puddle on your doorstep.

The two of you tumbled to the floor, Eddie groaning as you landed on top of him. You were surprised to see his cock was still shooting a thick rope of cum onto his stomach. You quickly scrambled on top of him, sinking back down onto his sensitive length to allow him to finish completely inside of you. He hissed as your wall stroked him to the end, loving the view of your shimmering naked body above him. He held you there as his cock softened, tracing his fingers along every curve and crease along your body as if trying to commit them to memory.

"Are you okay?"

Your heart swelled at the concern dripping from his lips. You smiled at him softly. "Never better."

There was a pause as the two of you relished in each others company, taking the time to admire one another.

"I'm sorry, by the way." Eddie broke the silence, staring deeply into your eyes.

You tilted your head in confusion, taking his hand in yours, worried that he thought he might have hurt you. "What for?"

"For keeping you up last night." He smiled sheepishly. "No one's ever really complained, so I didn't think it was a big deal."

You couldn't help but giggle. "It's okay, Eddie. I'll let you off on one condition."

He laughed in amusement. "Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"You take me on a date."

"Well, I would be much of a gentlemen if I didn't take a lady on a date after fucking her brains out, would I?"

~~~~~

Taglist:

@mdurdenpitt @wheel-of-hyperfixation @lemme-slytherin-that-dick @arlxt

[onlywonwoorideul]

Ateez going down on you

18+ minors dni!! if you don't like please just scroll!! hope you all enjoy! (first time making this kind of stuff but if you want more lmk!)

Seonghwa loves to keep his attention all on you, his eyes fixated on your face to watch every furrow of your brows and every time you bite your lip so a stray moan doesn't slip past your quivering lips while he licks and sucks eagerly at your clit, he could honestly get off from just pleasuring you and hearing the way you beg him for more.

Hongjoong always ends up eating you out in his studio, you'd go in just to check in on him and give him a snack, but you'd somehow end up in his chair, legs spread open over the arm rests as he devours you, practically making out with your pussy as he kneels in front of you, he'd silently thank the company for making the room soundproof when he hears the loud and lewd sounds flowing from your lips.

Yunho would wake you up with soft and gentle kisses up your thighs, sliding your panties to the side before licking a fat wet stripe through your folds, groaning into your heat when you'd stir awake and run your fingers through his messy bed head, his eyes looking up into your half lidded sleepy ones as he continued his slow and sensual assault on your pussy.

Yeosang loves getting you off on his fingers, his tongue pressed up against your swollen and sensitive clit, licking and sucking while his thick fingers fuck up into your warm and wet cunt, he would revel in the way you writhe under him, practically fucking yourself on his fingers. "Like that baby?" he would question as his fingers push up against that familiar spot, his eyes filled with mischief.

San was always eager to get you undressed after a day at the gym, his stamina seeming endless as he threw you onto the bed gently, his hands hooking on the waistband of your gym shorts, pulling them and your panties down and off you before pushing your legs up onto your chest. You knew to just hold them in place as he devoured you, his tongue exploring every inch of your insides as he savors the taste of you dripping onto his eager tongue.

Mingi on the other hand loved fucking his cock down your throat while he ate you out, he loved pleasuring you while you did the same to him getting each other off at the same time always made the sex so much better to him, he would close his eyes and let out a guttural moan onto your clit as he heard you gag from taking his full length in your throat. "Don't forget to breathe" he would half tease when you gripped his thighs.

Wooyoung likes having you sit on his face, he would get comfortable, placing a pillow under his head before signaling for you to come closer, his tongue coming out to taste you when you finally sat on his face, your hand reaching down to grip his locks, tugging at the strands softly while his hands reached behind you to grab your ass and grind you against his tongue, the tip of his nose rubbing against your sensitive clit with each buck of your hips. "Fuck..." he'd mumble into you.

Jongho loves edging you, he loves the way you fall apart under his touch, how you'd beg for him to let you cum, but he'd only laugh and continue his antics, finger fucking in and out of your hot and wet sex while his tongue licked through your folds, his thumb pressing circles into your clit to overstimulate you even more. "Beg me to let you cum baby..." he would encourage but he knew in his mind he would slowly push you up that hill you so desperately wanted to climb a good five more times before he would even consider letting you cum.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

the handyman

pairing: neighbor! joel miller x f! reader

cws/tags: pure smut, DADDY KINK, oral m & f receiving, p in v (unprotected), an abundance of pet names, reader is under 21 but over 18 (for the plot), reader is kinda stupid, big dick joel, not beta read

summary: pwp honestly. basically a porn plot? idk joel comes over to reader's grandma's house to fix the smoke detector (which she broke) and he teaches her how to be a good girl.

a/n: don't ask why reader lives with her grandma, originally this was going to be longer and it was going to be more relevant

join my taglist!

wc: 2k

You open the front door to and see an unfamiliar man standing at your doorstep – 40 something, jeans and a t-shirt, progressively more handsome the longer you look at him. You size him up, trying to decide what his intentions are.

“Whatever it is you’re selling – I don’t wanna buy it," you say.

He opens his mouth, but you continue before he can say anything. “I don’t even live here anyway, and before you ask she’s not home, so you can’t talk to her.”

“I ain’t here to sell you shit.”

“Well, I don’t wanna sign anything either.”

“Good. ‘Cause I don’t want you to.”

“Then why are you here? I don’t have a lot of time before One Tree Hill comes back on, so make it quick.”

“I’m Joel. I live down the street. I’m here to fix your smoke detector.”

“Oh, in that case, come on in,” you say, changing your demeanor entirely as you realize that you really need to get in this man’s good graces.

“So, you’re ‘handyman’ grandma’s been talking about?” you ask, as you lead him to the kitchen.

“She’s been talking about me?”

“Yeah. She talks about you like you’re her boyfriend.”

“Oh yeah? What’d she say?”

“I dunno. I wasn’t really listening. I thought it might just be some dementia-induced delusion.”

“Well, she’s told me quite a bit about you.”

“Good things?”

“Better than the things she says about all of your other family members.”

“You know what they say, ‘if you don’t want people to talk badly about you, then you shouldn’t ruin Christmas.’”

“Uh-huh,” he says, only half-listening as he approaches the scene of the crime - a broken smoke detector, now just wires and plastic, lays on the kitchen counter. He studies it for a minute, furrowing his brows. “Jesus Christ. What happened?”

“It just fell off the wall.” You shrug, acting nonchalant and hoping he doesn't notice your shifty eyes from across the kitchen.

“No way,” he says – not with curious incredulity, but knowing disapproval.

He turns to you and crosses his arms over his chest, and engages you in a short staring contest.

“What?” you ask, feigning innocence.

Joel swipes the dish rag from the countertop and reveals the evidence you’d hidden under it like he's performing a magic trick.

He holds up the hammer, displaying it to you. He looks mostly disappointed in you - in an oddly paternal way, but also slightly amused, likely by how poorly you’d conducted this whole covert operation of yours. “Why’d you break it?”

“I didn’t break it.”

“Kid, I’m not an idiot. Just fess up, so we can fix it and move on.”

“Are you gonna tell on me?”

“You afraid of your meemaw’s wrath?” he teases.

“I don’t want her to be disappointed in me.”

“Should she be?”

“I didn’t mean to break it. I just wanted it to stop beeping.”

“It’s supposed to beep.”

You give him a pathetic pout that you hope works. It doesn’t. It only makes his gaze harden.

“I’m sorry. It was just one cigarette, and I really, really didn’t want to get in trouble… so when it went off, I panicked and hit it with the hammer.”

He shakes his head and sighs. “You’re a piece of work, kid. Making me come out here on my lunch break-”

“-I’m sorry," you interrupt, "I won’t do it again, so just please, please don’t tell on me.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

“I could offer you something… something to show my infinite remorse for my actions and my infinite gratitude to you for fixing the mess I made.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Okay. What’s your offer?”

His smirk makes you think you’re on the same page so you get down on your knees in front of him, but when you look up into his eyes, what stares back at you is complete bewilderment.

“Get up,” he says, offering you his hand.

“I thought…”

“I don’t think you were thinking,” he says condescendingly.

“You’ve gotta learn to listen to the thoughts up here,” he says, tapping you on your temple. “Not the ones down here.” His finger brushes against your clit.

The way he speaks to you only makes it worse, the throbbing, aching feeling between your legs. You can’t find a single thing to say that isn’t ‘please’ followed by some utterly depraved suggestion.

Joel turns back to his work, somehow unfazed by the interaction.

“Normally, I’d think this sounds a bit too chauvinistic to ask, but since you owe me, can you get me a beer from the garage?”

Oh fuck. Three strikes, you’re out.

“We don’t have any beer.”

“You sure about that? I just put a six pack in there last week.”

“Maybe my grandma drank them already…”

“Your grandmother said that Budweiser tastes like cat piss.”

“It does.”

“Yeah? And how would you know that? I thought you weren’t 21 yet. Who’s buying you alcohol?”

“I didn’t know they were yours.”

“Uh-huh, but I bet your grandma would’ve told you they were if you’d asked her. But she doesn’t know about your ‘habits’, does she?”

“No,” you admit weakly.

“Come here.”

You step towards him, and wait for him to give you an earful or to threaten to reveal your secrets.

“I’m reconsidering your little offer.”

Your face lights up at the opportunity to make things right, to expunge this from your record.

“So if I did that, we’d be cool, right?”

“Depends on how good you are, darlin’.”

For a second time that afternoon, you sink to your knees, but this time, Joel gives you the go-ahead. You try to balance the coyness you’ve seen women in the movies demonstrate with the eagerness you feel inside as you undo his belt.

With his jeans halfway down his legs, you place your palm over the bulge in his boxers and feel him twitch at your touch. When his cock is finally released from its confines, you try not to be too intimidated. Your confidence is falling but your arousal only rises.

You begin by wrapping your hand around him and stroking his length, setting a steady pace. Then, you tease the tip with kitten licks and hear his breath hitch when you flick your tongue across his slit.

There’s no way you can take him all the way down your throat – you’d probably bruise your esophagus. Still, you try, sputtering and letting saliva drip down your chin. You can’t help but feel a bit proud of yourself when he has to put his hand on the counter to steady himself.

“Hold on, sweetheart,” he says through heavy breaths.

You pull away, upset at what you perceive to be a failure. “You didn’t cum…”

“I almost did, baby girl, but I don’t want to yet.”

You feel a bit pathetic imagining how you must look from his perspective, with your teary eyes, begging him to let you go on.

“You wanna give me a good apology, right?” He nods slowly, looking into your eyes, prompting you to do the same.

“Then, I want you to come sit on the couch with me.”

He takes your hand and walks you to the living room, patronizing since the two rooms are connected. When Joel sits down on the couch, he pulls you into his lap.

“I was thinkin’ about what I said before – how you’re not using your head. You could be such a smart girl – a good girl - if only you could think with your brain. You just need a little bit of help.”

You can feel his hard cock poking through his boxers and rubbing against your pussy. It’s hard to resist the urge to roll your hips, just to get a bit of friction, a bit of relief.

His hand finds its way between your legs and he asks, “What’s gonna happen if I put my hand in your panties right now, baby? Are you gonna be wet?”

While you try to form a response that doesn’t make you sound too desperate, his fingers toy with your waistband. “Remember, baby, good girls are honest,” he whispers into the shell of your ear.

“Yeah, I am… wet.”

“For me?” His hand meets your bare skin and finds that you are, indeed, dripping wet. “Did I do this to you?”

“Uh-huh.” You arch into his touch, shamelessly using his fingers for your own pleasure.

“If you want more, you have to be a good girl.”

With the promise of a reward, you follow his implied instructions and still your hips.

“I’ll be good. I promise.”

He takes your word for it and begins rubbing circles on your clit. You could cum from that alone but he slips a finger inside you, curling it upward to meet that special spot.

Joel expects a response from you, but not the one he gets.

A single word: “Daddy…”

“Oh, baby. I get it now. Been needin’ daddy to take care of you.”

He’s right. You do need this. He can take care of you, you can be good for him. When he fucks you with his fingers, you swear you could fall in love with him.

But when he takes them away, you cry.

“Shh… It’s okay,” he says, wiping the tears from your cheeks. “I wanna do something else. It’s gonna make you feel even better.”

Before you have a chance to think, your panties are on the floor and his head is between your thighs. You can feel his breath on your clit when he speaks. “I want you to be a good girl and cum on my face – can you do that?”

“Yes, daddy.” The word leaves your mouth more naturally than it probably should, it's almost instinctual.

Joel wastes no more time talking, knowing his tongue can convey much more when it runs along your folds, and his lips can elicit a better response when they suck lightly on your clit.

The only thing you have for him is moans accompanied by breathless chanting of “daddy, daddy, daddy.”

He hums into your core, an affirmative, a reminder that you are a good girl. You can do this.

You can cum for him. You will cum for him – there is nothing that can stop the euphoria that rushes through you. It’s the kind that makes your legs shake and your eyes roll back into your head.

Joel was right – the orgasm clears your mind. But the realization that the situation you’ve ended up in – naked on your grandmother’s couch with her middle-aged neighbor who is supposed to be fixing your mistake, not helping you make another - is a precarious one. Being a smart girl seems to be a double edged sword.

Euphemistically, speaking.

In truth, it’s Joel’s cock that’s fully-sheathed inside you. Pain and pleasure mix as he thrusts in and out of you. You swear he might split you open, but even if he quite literally tore you to pieces, you'd die happily.

“You’re takin’ it so well,” he tells you, “knew you’d be a good girl.”

And maybe it’s the praise, or maybe it’s his thumb on your clit, but you’re rapidly approaching a second orgasm. All you can do is hold onto Joel, dragging your nails down his back. He bites your neck in response, and hopefully he doesn’t intend for it be a deterrent, because it only serves to heighten your pleasure.

He slows his pace, but his hips slam into yours harder, filling the air with the sound of skin slapping against skin in a steady rhythm.

“Whose pussy is this?”

You can’t breathe when the weight of his cock knocks the wind out of you, so he stops, allowing you to answer.

“Yours, daddy!”

His lips on yours are your cue to cum – or so you hope because it happens regardless of your will.

He has the sense to pull out and let his release spill onto your stomach.

You sigh, relaxing into the couch. “I need a cigarette,” you say.

“Did you not learn anything from today?”

“Mm-mm,” you say grinning dumbly.

Caught up in a daze – absolutely enraptured by his need to have you – he made the mistake of fucking you stupid.

[gutsby]

Abstaining Game

Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader

Summary: The only thing worse than an anti-sex retreat is an anti-sex retreat with your former fuckbuddy and dad’s best friend. Especially when sharing one cabin.

Warnings: 18+. IF HE AIN’T GRAYIN’ I AIN’T STAYIN’ 🗣️ [Age gap]. Unprotected p-in-v. Forced proximity. Joel making you fuck just his middle finger when he’s mad. Daddy kink. Overstimulation. First-time squirting. Angst.

Translations: ‘Don’t piss down my back & tell me it’s raining’ is a fun Southern phrase for, ‘Cut the bullshit’ or ‘Don’t lie.’

Sequel to Waiting Game & Hating Game (last rhyme I swear)

October 26, 2024

Dear Joel,

Roses are red,

We’re a couple of sluts,

Abstinence camp is awful,

I miss you rearranging my guts.

You were just about to put your pen back down to paper and add the finishing touch, signing an equally lascivious farewell, when the letter was snatched out of your hands. A tyrant in khaki capris and an artichoke-colored polo eyed over your words with a pointed look and frowned.

“Letters to the boyfriend have to be G-rated,” Marlene said, crumpling the thing in her fist before chucking it.

“He’s not my boyfriend,” you returned shortly. Then, “That was actually meant for my dad’s friend.”

You sat tight a moment as the dots came to connect in the woman’s parochial and prudish mind—waiting for the wince of disgust to twitch at the corners of her eyes when she put two and two together. Once it did, you grinned. Even when she plucked the pen out of your hand and told you to sit outside, if you can’t participate in this one simple activity, you smiled bigger and strolled at a comfortable pace out the canteen door.

Anti-sex ‘summer camp’ wasn’t bad at all when you didn’t give a fuck what your counselors told you to do.

It was ridiculous, really. Absurd. Tommy Miller catching you sucking his brother’s dick under the table at your father’s birthday dinner, losing his shit with you both, then threatening to tell your dad everything if you didn’t agree to this stupid retreat and stop seeing each other. You’d barely been trapped in the shithole for twenty-four hours, and you already knew this angle wouldn’t work.

What many of your fellow campers affectionately called the ‘Firefly Fuck-Free Zone’ or the ‘Federal Dickriding Response Agency’ (F.E.D.R.A.) was in fact a secluded enclave south of Austin where khaki-clad monsters forced you to reckon with your sexual urges like one might treat a mutated strain of the Cordyceps fungus. You weren’t meant to keep them for long, and if you did, someone like Marlene would surely shame you for it.

Frankly, Tommy was dumb as shit if he thought this anti-boinking boot camp would have an effect on either one of you—Joel wouldn’t ever bang you again after what happened that night, but it wouldn’t be because of some arts and crafts bullshit he did out on a FEDRA ranch.

He just didn’t want your dad to find out and kill him.

That was a fair concern to have. You didn’t blame him.

Presently, you kicked your feet up on the porch outside the cafeteria, where the rest of the group was finishing up letters to their loved ones—this latest activity was meant to be ‘making amends’ to the people in your life—and you tipped your head back to survey the landscape.

Nothing but sweetgrass and gently rolling hills as far as the eye could see. Somewhere across the plains there was another cluster of cabins, though you couldn’t quite see it, and someplace within that minuscule cluster, you knew there was a middle-aged man. Dark grey eyebrows furrowed in concentration and chest heaving gently. Likely hunched over an old oak desk about five sizes too small for his frame as he gripped a pen and scribbled:

Dear Tommy,

Fuck you, you fucking fuck.

Sincerely,

Joel

You grinned again just thinking about it.

If anyone had a reason to be ticked off and terrified, it was Joel. And you, you guessed. You still hadn’t gotten your period—but that wasn’t due for another few days.

For now, you’d settled on worrying yourself over what would happen after the retreat had ended; what would you and Joel do once you went back to school? What would become of his life back in Austin with a supremely pissed off brother and a best friend who didn’t know his kid had been fooling around with a man twice her age?

Silently, you thanked your lucky stars Joel’s part of the camp was kept separate from yours, because you didn’t think you’d be able to keep a straight face if you saw him.

The whole thing was sickening, if not slightly funny.

You slipped Joel’s old pack of American Spirits out of your boot and fished in your back pocket for a lighter.

Then you crammed both back when you heard a boom:

“LAKESIDE GUIDED MEDITATION STARTS IN FIVE.”

The tinny intercom rang a deafening pitch in your ears. You clamped a palm over the left side of your head and winced, having forgotten this exercise in mindfulness was supposed to be the last event to wrap up your day. You just wanted to slink back up to your cabin and sleep. Or eat. Or slip your fingers between your aching legs and indulge in some much-needed Joel Miller reminiscing.

Then you recalled how masturbation was also off limits to all would-be sexaholic campers—if there was any time to sneak off and get busy by yourself while your counselors were otherwise occupied, now would be it.

Just as you cast a glance over your shoulder to see if a stealthy exit was even possible, a voice trilled overhead.

“On your feet, skank.”

You looked back fast, and damn did Tess look smug.

Your bunkmate crossed her arms over her chest and leaned against the doorframe, seeming to feel your thoughts before they’d even been fully processed.

“If you skip meditation, I think Marlene’s gonna take you behind the rec and shoot you in the head,” she added.

“How kind.”

“Yeah? Certain death?”

“Better than the dick deprivation,” you grumbled, only half-kidding as you dragged yourself back to your feet.

Theresa Servopoulos was no avid fan of penis herself—she much preferred women when she had her pick of it—but she grinned all the same and clapped a comforting hand over your shoulder before the two of you started walking down the mess hall’s front steps. Then she only laughed a little bit when you almost ate shit treading down the winding rocky trail to the lake and cursed your present lack of intercourse for causing your clumsiness.

“You realize it’s only been, like…a day, right?” she said.

“Might as well be a million,” you muttered, “I feel like I’m never getting laid again.”

“Oh?”

Tess gripped your elbow when a root protruding from the path nearly sent you flying again. She tried not to smile.

“Well…my fake brother’s mad at me for going behind his back and fucking his brother,” you explained, coolly.

Stupidly.

“Wait—you fucked your brother?!”

That stopped Tess in her tracks. The two of you were approaching the cusp of a clearing, just feet away from where the forest gave way to the shoreline of the lake. Folks were already congregating at the water’s edge.

“Any day now, ladies,” Marlene called through cupped hands. Tess was still regarding you with eyes the size of saucers as you traipsed across the way to that voice.

“Not my brother,” you hissed.

“You said your brother’s brother. That makes this guy your brother, too,” Tess whispered—still far too loud.

“Not my actual brother, he’s just— fuck—”

Suddenly, two scraps of red fabric were catapulted in your direction. Tess caught one. You caught the other.

“Tie ‘em over your eyes.” Marlene ordered.

“The fuck?” you mumbled, but ventured nothing more as you were ushered to join the group sitting cross-legged on the ground in front of you. Everyone else was tying bandanas around their eyes like all of this was normal.

“Another trust exercise,” Tess’s voice was low as you dropped your asses one after the other on the sand. Speaking like a seasoned veteran of the anti-sex retreat, she helped you get yours on and shot you one last ‘You-better-not-have-actually-fucked-your-sibling’ look before letting you help her secure her blindfold, too.

Just as Marlene began describing in great detail what this blind, guided meditation in self-love and elemental trust was meant to look like, your friend opted to give voice to her concerns the second the opportunity arose.

Still seated side-by-side, still blind, Tess leaned over.

“Please tell me you’re not here for bangin’ your brother.”

You had to stifle a laugh.

“I am not.”

“Then explain, Cersei!”

Just then, a throat cleared behind you. Evidently another camp counselor at your rear was telling you, wordlessly, to shut the fuck up and listen to the instructions. You and Tess just scooted closer and lowered your voices.

“So this guy, Tommy…he’s been like a big brother to me for years. Worked with my dad and always had my back for the wild shit I did back in high school,” you began.

“Uh-huh.”

“His big brother, Joel, is like…old as shit, but wildly hot.”

“Dangerous combo.”

“And Joel’s my dad’s best friend. Drove me back from college over fall break when he was visiting Boston, we took a little motel detour on the road trip home, and bam—” You snapped your fingers for effect, “We fuck, right?”

“Right.”

“—imagine you’re standing at the edge of a waterfall—”

Marlene couldn’t be serious with this hippy dippy shit. You tuned out the rest of what she said and continued:

“It’s incredible. But the condom busts open at the end—”

“Oh shit.”

“—deep breath in…and release…and again, we—”

“Freak the fuck out, right? I’m poppin’ Plan B like candy.”

“As you should.”

“—hold that breath in right there—”

“A week later, me and Joel hook up at my dad’s birthday party. Only we fuck up, ‘cause Tommy catches us, and—”

This time, the counselor who’d cleared their throat to shut you up took to nudging you both in the back with the toe of their shoe. You straightened up, tilted your head back, and scowled at them through your blindfold.

“Do you mind?” you said, turning in place but unable to see anything behind you. You imagined whoever had just butted in on your conversation was probably frowning. They said nothing in return, just huffed like a child.

“Anyway.” You pivoted back to Tess, “Tommy flips his lid, tells us he’s gonna snitch on us to my dad if we keep fucking around like that, and then he…sends us here.”

You heard your friend fight back a chuckle beside you.

“And abstinence camp is supposed to cure you of this awful disease? Wanting to fuck daddy’s best friend?”

Oddly, you wanted to giggle too. You weren’t sure what was so funny, or why Tess’s tone made you want to say something equally out of pocket and lewd, but then you were leaning over before you could even think twice:

“That old man’s dick is like a fuckin’ drug, dude.”

You wished you could’ve seen her face when you said it. But you didn’t need to catch a single glimpse to know she was grinning big and dumb when she whispered,

“Prehistoric cock must’ve been pretty nice, huh?”

You choked. She snorted. You returned, next, shortly,

“Best senior citizen schlong I’ve had in my life.”

You weren’t sure which one of you burst out laughing first. Maybe Tess. Probably you. Either way, both of your sides were splitting in seconds, as the ridiculous and just marginally offensive descriptors for Joel’s dick trembled at the tips of your tongues. You felt like a teenager again, telling your friend your filthiest desires for the DILF-next-door—except this time, you’d actually fucked him. Small perks to seeking out middle-aged men in your twenties. You had to clamp your hand over your mouth to rein in the peals of laughter as Tess wheezed quietly beside you.

Then you felt hands.

Two palms under your armpits, yanking you up.

You stumbled back, graceless and still staving off half a laugh as your back struck the counselor’s chest.

“Just…take her back up.” You heard a female’s voice to your left, low and not sounding particularly amused.

Take you where? Was this the part where Marlene dragged you behind the rec and shot you in the head?

About damn time.

Whoever had grabbed you grunted in acknowledgment. You swayed in their arms, trying to regain better footing, but the grip tightened up in a second and thrust you sideways. You staggered, cursing your captor.

“Fucker,” you hissed.

Fucker said nothing.

Their hands slipped from your pits to one of your wrists, leading you away from the lake in long strides. You were moving so fast you scarcely had the chance to pull the blindfold back, so you just kept walking. Marching.

“Can you slow the fuck down, please?”

You imagined the face of the person leading you forward might’ve twisted in a scowl. Their lips didn’t stir, though.

In a matter of minutes, your feet were crunching on the flat, gravelly terrain you knew to lay under the cabins. This person was leading you back. Likely to throw you off to your room in the next several moments—but not before ripping you a new one for disrupting the peace back down at the lake. You weren’t stoked to hear it.

“Alright, just—” You tripped as you were led up the rickety steps, cursing again, “—just leave me right here.”

A set of knuckles at your spine thrust you forward.

“No? Okay. Fine. Whatever.”

You shook your head as you entered the cabin and heard footsteps follow you in. It occurred to you then that now was probably a good time to take off the blindfold.

Before you could, though, it was ripped off for you.

“Pack your shit.”

Dude.

You spun on your heels.

“DUDE!”

Your eyes moved up the very khaki shorts you despised, the puke-colored polo, the neatly embroidered camp logo, and a nametag strangely labeled ‘Lucien Flores.’ Everything in the ensemble screamed ‘camp counselor.’ But the face above it—it wasn’t one of their own at all.

It was far too lax. Fresh with an easy, shit-eating grin.

“Sweetheart—”

He started to speak, only to get the wind knocked out of his chest when you threw your arms around him.

The barrage of kisses came without you ever really intending to place them at all. You were just so stunned, practically overcome with joy to see Joel Miller in all his ruggedly handsome glory, then confused. What was he doing here, and why was he dressed head-to-toe as a counselor? And why were you so into that on him?

You doubted you could even ask the questions, and he was barely more able to answer the longer you stayed latched to his neck, kissing him everywhere your mouth could get to. You’d just stood on tip-toes to press your lips to his when you realized he wasn’t reaching back.

His hands hung limply at his sides. Still, he smiled.

“Abstinence camp ain’t taught ya much, has it?”

You parted your lips to drag your teeth along the grey-spattered scruff on his cheek—biting but not quite. Begging him to kiss you back, grab your ass, anything to quell this anguish twisting low in your stomach at the lack of contact. Joel didn’t seem keen on answering to it.

“I’ve learned plenty, Miller,” you panted against his jaw, before moving below it to sink into the skin of his neck, “Lemme show you all the stuff FEDRA told us not to do.”

Yes, you sounded desperate. No, you didn’t really care. You were much too busy fiddling with the front of Joel’s shorts to concern yourself with anything but his cock. It made it all the more gut-wrenchingly horrific and disconcerting when you felt his hands push yours away.

“No,” Joel said, simply. Then, nodding to your luggage at the foot of your bunk, “Pack your stuff, sweets. C’mon.”

He was seriously trying to break you out?

You admired the cojones on the man, but you wanted to fuck real quick to get it out of your system. Needed it.

“Joel, I—” You swallowed thickly, shaking your head.

What your mouth couldn’t finish, your eyes said clear as day: I want you to take me right here. Quick and dirty. But, again, Joel seemed completely impervious to your pleas. Almost callous in the face of such a desperate request made from your eyes to his. He moved over toward your suitcase when you didn’t want to budge.

Luckily for you, you’d never unpacked. All that was left were the clothes on your back and a water bottle on the nightstand. Joel grabbed the latter and turned around to snag the suitcase on his way to the door, when he was met with you. Obstructing his path and frowning a little.

“Joel?” You raised a brow.

“Mm?”

The man in front of you straightened up, rolling a nonexistent kink from his neck before regarding you.

His gaze was alarmingly sedate.

“Y’know, you’ve got quite the knack for makin’ shit difficult—”

“Just a quickie, Miller—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ you here!”

The sudden boom of his voice should’ve startled you. But then a broad, warm palm came to rest on your shoulder, and Joel’s expression dropped immediately. There was still a tightness to it, somewhere deep within, and you couldn’t quite work out why he seemed so…off.

Then you caught sight of something steely in his gaze.

It just might’ve clicked if Joel didn’t reach for your face and elucidate things for you himself, eyes narrowing.

“I know my old man dick is like a fuckin’ drug and all…”

Shit.

Cheeks squished between his two big hands, you had only to stare. And blink. And silently regret being so loud when you were talking to Tess before. It didn’t look good.

“Joel—”

“No, no, my senile brain must be mistaken—it was actually that prehistoric cock that did it for ya.”

Your face heated with shame. You blinked again.

But just as you tried to shake your head between Joel’s hands, he pressed his palms tighter and drew you closer.

“Senior. citizen. schlong?” he intoned, painfully slow.

“Joel, I just—”

“Need to fuck someone your own age, it sounds like.”

The man in front of you released your face just as fast as he’d grabbed it, and when he stepped back, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of desperation. That wasn’t what you’d meant! It sounded so puerile and cruel coming out of his lips like this, but you had to tell him it was a joke.

“It was a joke.”

No time to mince words now.

“Real fuckin’ comedic genius,” Joel snorted.

He rolled his eyes and tried to sidestep you, but you mirrored the movement. When your hands flew to his chest to keep him from moving, please, just listen to me, Joel, he pretended not to hear it, or feel it, against him.

“Alright. Enough,” he muttered, “‘S’time to go home.”

“No!”

“No?”

“No.”

For the first time, you saw Joel’s nostrils flare. You pressed into his sternum again, hoping to hold him in place so you could explain yourself, but it seemed he wasn’t planning on staying stationary. Joel dropped to your bunk—or Tess’s, technically—and situated himself comfortably on the bed before shooting you a look. You barely had had a moment’s time to contemplate your next move when he yanked you onto the cot with him.

Joel didn’t try to kiss you. He didn’t attempt to remove one article of clothing from your body or his. He just sat there, staring, while you straddled his hips staring back.

“If you wanna fuck me so bad, go right ahead,” he said, motioning indistinctly in front of him, “Be my guest.”

When you stilled, he added, “That is all y’want, right?”

With your palms laying flat on his chest and a head full of conflicting thoughts—you did want to bang him, obviously, but not before you’d gotten a chance to set things straight, not when he was looking at you like this—you chewed your bottom lip. Certainly you couldn’t continue while Joel still believed you were embarrassed by his age, his lips downturned and humorless as ever.

“C’mon,” he tried again, a touch more venom laced in his words as he spoke, “Show me how much ya want it.”

You needed time to think.

“Why are you…dressed like this?” you said, stalling.

But Joel wouldn’t be kind enough to give you that time.

“Stole the uniform so I could sneak out and over here and get you out. Are we gonna fuck now or what?”

His hands moved over your own to guide them to his lower half, just above where your clothed core was touching his. Your fingers moved mechanically, almost reluctantly, to undo the button and zip of his shorts.

Was that a flash of hurt you saw in his eyes?

You’d never been good at this communication bullshit. Neither had Joel. The two of you would probably just have sex now to hash out your feelings, as was par for the course for a pair of emotionally stunted individuals. It still pained you to see him look at you like that, though.

“Tess and me were just kidding, baby.”

You palmed the bulge in his boxers and heard him grunt. When you nudged his cock out of the fabric to stroke him, his eyes fluttered shut and he sucked in a breath.

“I would never say those things to hurt you,” you added.

“Didn’t hurt me none,” Joel returned instantly. Then, feeling you flick the pad of your thumb over the head of his cock, he exhaled and held his face firm in place. Like he didn’t want you to see the effect you had on him.

You let go of his cock to take off your socks and shoes. Then your top. Then your shorts. Then you slid down his body a little, unsure if this was the time to be trying something new. Or even doing this kind of stuff at all.

At first, you just sort of lowered yourself to Joel’s groin, his dick resting comfortably between your tits. Then you started to move, and your hands were cupping either side of your breasts to push inward on his member. Before you even fully knew what you were doing, you were squeezing Joel’s dick with the soft, supple flesh and stroking him gently. Gaze glued to him all the while.

His eyes cracked open to catch you watching him. Evidently, Joel couldn’t contain all of his reactions, because he audibly groaned when you got going.

Sliding your tits up and down his shaft, feeling him pulse between them. Sensing a warmth pool in your own lower half but being too focused, and slightly ashamed, to act. You just wanted to make Joel feel good, even if your words weren’t able to do the trick with apologizing.

“Come here,” you beckoned him with just one finger as you slid off the bed, to the floor. Joel sat up, and you kneeled obediently between his legs. The two of you shared a tense, sexless look for a second before you lowered yourself back down and resumed the position.

This time, Joel could—and did—stir his hips to create some friction between your tits. His brow pinched inward with a muted concentration, and you wanted to say it looked handsome on him, that you were sorry for saying those stupid things to Tess and making him doubt your affection for him, but you kept your mouth shut. You had to remind yourself that emotions had no place between two needy, unfeeling people who just wanted to fuck.

Maybe that was how it should’ve been from the start.

But watching Joel’s face twist and contort in pleasure nearly wiped the thought clean out of your brain forever.

You felt many things for him, whether you liked it or not.

You really wished you hadn’t said the things you’d said.

Joel braced his hands at the edge of the bed on either side of him, hips working a steady pace to fuck your tits. He was staring mostly at the spot where the head of his cock was poking up through your cleavage with each thrust, entranced by the sight, and in a second, a full-throated moan was fighting its way out of his chest. He spit in his hand and paused to smear the stuff on his shaft, on your tits. Spit again and rubbed even harder.

Seeing him so cold and detached, you wanted to apologize again. Maybe beg him to say something kind.

Instead, you mumbled, “I love it when you fuck my tits.”

Joel scarcely acknowledged the remark, just letting you work yourself over him, meet his shallow thrusts, look sweet and wait patiently for him to cum all over you. When it seemed he might be ready to do it, though, Joel withdrew from you the next second and moved back on the bed. He pulled you into his lap, straddling again, but this time situated over the side of the bed—him sitting up, you perched on the flat, sturdy expanse of his thighs facing him. In the space between your bodies, Joel slid a quiet and almost careless hand to your heat, flicking the sheer fabric of your panties to the side in one go.

The moment his fingers made contact, you flinched.

It wasn’t that you were opposed to his touch, you just felt unfairly balanced in this situation. Joel appeared so stoic; you, a complete and utter wreck. Fighting fifteen different emotions at once and feeling unusually vulnerable spread open to him now, you almost didn’t register what he was doing—or what his hand might find.

Joel’s groan brought you back, though. When he rubbed his knuckles over the seam of your cunt and practically choked out twice his lung’s capacity, you had to look.

Aloof as he tried to be, the man’s desire was painted all over his expression. And his crotch. And his hand.

Well, actually, that last bit of arousal was yours.

“Fuckin’ soakin’ me, sweetie,” Joel breathed.

You perked up at the term of endearment. Watching one glistening fist of his make its way back and forth against your body, smearing sticky wet pleasure all over your mound and your folds, you found yourself gnawing your lip once more, this time for entirely different reasons.

Joel seemed to soften—even if only for a glaring carnal need, you didn’t care. You sank into this gentler touch.

“Khakis kinda suit you, Miller,” you said, off-handed.

Really, Joel looked almost as comical as he was sexy in that camp counselor getup: tan shorts stretched tight over even tanner legs, polyester top sitting pretty on wide, hulking shoulders, that silly stitched logo for the camp emblazoned over his left pec, and, of course, the nametag that didn’t belong to him but to Lucien. The whole thing was so alien to his lumberjack-chic demeanor that he nearly seemed boyish. Endearing. Some spearmint-scented hottie you might’ve had a crush on at camp years ago. You couldn’t help but smile.

Joel tried not to hold your gaze for too long.

“Don’t go pissin’ down my back and tell me it’s rainin’.”

When he slid one finger to your entrance, you tensed again, but smiled just the same and let out a breath. You felt him prod at the warm, wet skin and thumb at your clit, and something told you that he’d wanted to grin too.

“I’m serious,” you said, “Scout’s hon—ohfuckfuckfuck.”

Joel pushed one finger inside you. In spite of the ease with which he slipped between your walls, that gentle sensation made it wonderfully snug. He gripped your hip and started moving his single digit in and out, and in spite of yourself, you squirmed a bit. Joel never failed to call you out for doing that; today would be no different.

“Easy, sweet pea,” he hummed when you jumped again.

But you couldn’t help it. Your hands quickly anchored themselves to Joel’s shoulders, your legs spread wider, and your hips started stirring—bucking, really—against each teasing touch. It was still just one thick finger of his.

You glanced down and saw that it was his middle finger, in particular. The double meaning wasn’t lost on you.

“Another,” you pleaded.

“Nuh-uh.”

“You’re a mean ol— mean man.” You tried to correct course when you felt a mention of ‘old’ slip back into your vernacular, and inwardly, you cringed at your words.

Joel had already heard it. He cocked one eyebrow.

“Mean ol’ man?” he scoffed, still fingerfucking you softly. When you bucked against it, he nodded as if to say ‘fair enough.’

Then, before you could chime in, he nodded some more.

His expression was hard.

“Fuck my hand,” he said.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

You weren’t quite sure what he meant for you to do. When he nodded a third time, the gesture was accompanied by a quick dart of his eyes to the place where your cunt was being penetrated by his one finger. He curled the finger inward, and when you twitched at the hot throb of pleasure that followed, he grunted.

Fuck my hand.

Nails still searing tiny half-moons into his shoulders, you acted more out of impulse than by command. The look from Joel sure didn’t hurt, though. The second you started rolling your hips, he nodded again. Holding onto his praises for now and simply showing approbation.

“Like that,” he murmured.

All you were doing was rocking back and forth over his finger, whimpers percolating quietly in your chest, but the act alone made you feel desperate. And Joel smug.

It was like he wanted to see you getting off to this one, comparatively smaller part of him without being filled. Bucking plaintively to find that fullness and coming back empty every time. Your whimpers turned into whines.

“Need more,” you keened.

“Yeah?” Joel replied gently.

“Yeah.”

A beat, then:

“Tough shit.”

But he said it so goddamn sweet you had to do a double take to make sure you’d heard him correctly. When you met Joel’s eyes, you saw a hint of amusement lingering behind them. Then he squeezed your hip again and started helping you move into his hand, up and down.

“Only givin’ more fingers to good girls, y’hear?” he said.

“What about your cock?” You couldn’t help it.

Joel just breathed out through his nose. In a second, he went from camp counselor to disapproving father figure.

“Greedy little thing, ain’t ya?”

That was all he needed to say, but the firm plunge of his middle finger certainly put a finer point on it. He curled the digit again and, upon grazing that spongy surface inside you, saw another desperate plea in your eyes.

And pleasure.

The pleasure ran almost as intense as the desperation.

Your head fell back when Joel got to making those ‘come hither’ motions again and again, thumb circling your clit, eyes trained on your figure with a marked concern. Like the prospect of not drawing an orgasm out of you in the next two minutes might very well ruin the man’s night.

“‘S’alright, honey,” Joel said quietly.

Then, finding your gaze when your head tilted back,

“Be a good girl and let go for me. Let go for daddy, hm?”

Fortunately for him, that one low hum and another flick of his middle finger and thumb were all you needed to find your release. You came on his hand with a sharp, pitiful cry and a ‘Fuckthatfeelssogooddaddyplease,’ hips working feverishly against his hand as you rode out your high. The sight of you bouncing up and down on his open palm and the way your eyes rolled back, begging him to fuck you full of his cock next, felt wildly obscene.

Joel loved obscene. Needed obscene. Hot. Febrile. Raw.

He nodded again.

Before you’d even descended fully from those staggering heights, his finger was moving too—joined by two more. Joel stuffed his index and ring fingers inside your still-pulsing hole and pretended not to hear your soft cry.

After all, you’d asked for more before. Joel was just sating your desire; your overwrought body would be fine.

“Joel,” you hissed, seizing his wrist.

“Too much?” he returned.

You tried to verbalize some answer but were cut short by a punishing stretch—all three fingers plunging in and out of your sensitive, drooling cunt and making it full of him.

“Too soon?” he tried again.

“I—”

“Too fast?”

“N—”

“Too…old?” Joel pressed after a beat.

There was an air of feigned condescension in his tone as he took on a faster pace gliding his thick, calloused fingers between your walls. You might’ve screamed if you hadn’t found your forehead pressed to his and the warmth of his irises boring into yours while he did it all. At this distance, you could discern a trace of hurt again. Something needing to be soothed inside Joel Miller.

You rutted your hips and shook your head, skull still stuck to his as you did so. Whimpers coming low.

“I didn’t…mean it,” you managed at length.

“What? That I’m ‘old as shit but wildly hot’?”

Joel wedged his fingers straight down to the knuckle and nearly tore a shriek out of your body. His eyes were surprisingly soft. Making sure your pleasure was all there.

“Hyperbole,” you choked, voice hoarse.

Then your jaw grew lax when a hand cupped your chin. All you wanted to do was melt into Joel, but you sensed something brewing again behind those honeyed eyes. Blinking was all you could do to keep your composure.

“You’re right, darlin’,” Joel said, “I am too old for you.”

Right after a clench in your tummy, a hurried word leapt up to your tongue, ‘NO!’ and you had to swallow a moan to keep from succumbing to the pleasure Joel was bringing with his fingers. Sandwiched between two orgasms was no time for a serious argument to take place, but there you were, fighting against it anyway.

“N-No,” you stammered. Stupid.

“I am.” His voice came softer somehow, more resigned.

When outright rejection of the claim seemed futile, you tried to pivot. Climax still closing in as fast as ever.

“I don’t care about that,” you hissed, exhaling hard when the first ripples of bliss crept up toward your stomach.

Joel watched you with careful eyes.

“Yeah? And Tess?”

“Joel—”

“Or Tommy.”

“I don’t—”

“Everyone else?”

Almost against your will, those minuscule ripples turned to waves of full-blown euphoria, and then you were clenching again on Joel’s hand and crying out in climax. You willed your gaze not to stray from his, but it was tough. Especially when the eyes beneath your own seemed so fucking morose and removed from you.

Don’t do this to me, Miller. Don’t do it, don’t do it.

In the wake of what should’ve been consummate satisfaction, you found yourself retreating to a place more akin to starvation—suddenly eager to get your mouth over his and start kissing, tonguing, and scraping your teeth like you’d missed out on a full week’s worth of meals. Feeling selfish but also uncertain how else to proceed—was Joel Miller breaking up with you here?

You couldn’t be sure, because he kissed you back. Joel kissed you and cupped your cheeks, then chased your frame all the way down to the coarse, scratchy sheets of the bed, where he was quick to climb on top of you.

Hell, it seemed breathing was too tough to accomplish with your frenzied pace and the continuous stream of open-mouthed kisses placed anywhere and everywhere. A groan from Joel trembled between your lips as you helped him get his shorts and boxers the rest of the way down his legs—all but dragging them with your heels—and he tightened a fist in your hair when they were off.

“I shouldn’t’a come here,” he mumbled.

“But you did,” you panted.

Both of you got lost in another onslaught of kisses, and you tried not to sigh. Joel was still battling something.

Even as he peeled your panties off and lined himself up with your entrance, he seemed resolved to stay quiet. Holding your gaze and not saying what had to be said.

He was a lot like you in that way.

You kept kissing him anyway.

The events that followed seemed to you little more than fleeting, happy scenes from a film you’d always wanted to see—an eager Joel, a caring Joel, an I-don’t-think-I’m-physically-capable-of-holding-you-any-closer Joel. The weight of his cock a welcome friend and the kisses somehow far too intimate to be considered friendly at all. You’d almost forgotten you were at a camp designed to prevent this very thing from happening between two stupid, impulsive people like you, and you didn’t care.

All you knew was a yawning stretch—that aching, empty void filled to perfection by Joel’s member—and the shockwaves of pleasure that vibrated in bands all the way down to the balls of your feet. You felt safe and secure caged between two muscular arms, and you reveled in a warmth that spanned every inch of your body touching his. The weight suffocating and somehow not oppressive; Joel cradled your head to make sure of it.

“Ain’t…hurtin’ ya, am I?” he said when you winced.

You shook your head against his sweaty palms to say that he wasn’t; you were just adjusting. He scanned your face for any trace of insincerity but found nothing.

In this tender position, your brain was ready to burst—whether from guilt, shame, ruthless self-loathing, or a sobering sense of closeness, you weren’t sure. All four seemed to form the impetus for the words that came next, which were soft, repeated apologies against Joel’s mouth. He swallowed each one without a second thought.

“Quit sayin’ it,” he rasped, low.

“I’m sorry, Joel, I’m sorr—”

Soft lips again. ‘S’okay, honey.’

You weren’t sure why, but your face felt extra hot.

Joel pressed his thumbs on either side of it while he kissed you and went deeper. Then he squeezed even more, and your breath hitched quietly in your throat.

Aw, shit, he could probably feel your heart running amok in your chest and thrumming like crazy right now.

“Ain’t nothin’—” Joel paused to send one measured thrust along your cervix, “—to be sorry for. Nothin’.”

Your legs tightened at his sides when his hips started to snap in quick, stuttered motions, desperate for more friction and depth. He got both, and he groaned feeling you tighten around him as he filled your cunt to the brim. The silky warmth of your walls drawing him in was almost too much, and every now and then he’d have to slow to mutter some, ‘’S’fuckin’ chokin’ me, honey, ya feel that?’ or ‘This pussy’s just made to take me, huh?’

Joel asked like he actually needed the reassurance. As if the slick, dripping arousal coating his length and the sounds of your whimpers mixed in with those wet slaps weren’t enough—as if he had to have deeper consolation.

He was splitting you open and looked guilty as he did it.

Still shaking with each thrust, you helped him slide his shirt over his head and bring him bare, chest-to-chest with you. You couldn’t ignore the tension any longer.

“Joel, I fuckin’ love— I need you inside,” you managed.

“You do?”

“Uh-huh.”

His face softened.

“‘S’mine, isn’t it?”

He said it so fast you couldn’t make out if it were really a question or a simple statement of fact. His balls routinely smacking your ass, eyes searching yours, always gentle.

“Say that you’re mine.”

No, Joel—don’t do that, don’t say it like that.

Your visceral reaction was to recoil. You couldn’t because he had you pinned, but damn did you want to—not him, not this, not now, Joel, why would you fucking say that?

The look in his eyes now surpassed the hurt from before. It was open and aching, even as he drilled your body in two at a near-ruthless pace. Asking you so sincerely.

The obstinacy inside you was almost laughable. Damn near sent your head spinning in a fit of hysterics at how much you wanted to say but wouldn’t; how much you sensed lay waiting to fly off Joel’s tongue but couldn’t. If you were any more emotionally pent-up you might’ve ruptured a blood vessel and lost all ability to think.

It didn’t help that you were both about to cum.

Or that Joel’s right hand was fumbling for your clit.

His expression was steady as ever when you jumped, made a whining noise below him, and grabbed his wrist. You looked down to where your bodies were joined and got a dizzying glimpse of that sight: cunt swallowing Joel’s cock repeatedly, pleasure pooling between your two bodies, then a digit at that little bundle of nerves.

He kissed your hairline and hummed.

“C’mon, pretty girl. Whose pussy is this?”

His thrusts sped up, along with his thumb.

“Don’t.” Not an answer but a warning: tread lightly, Joel.

He kissed your forehead again. And again. For a second you thought he might stay that way until you both came, but then his lips were finding yours, mumbling softly,

“Say no one’s gonna fuck you but me.”

“But—”

“None of those pencil-dick douchebag Delta Sigma whatever-the-fuck ya call ‘ems—” Joel continued, unfazed, “—not your lab partner, not your hallmate—”

His cock was gliding in and out of you at a punishing pace now. Wonderfully slick with sounds obscenely piercing to your ears. You could feel Joel digging in the depths of your tight, throbbing cunt, could see his expression contort with much the same pleasure you were experiencing yourself, and could very well smell the faint aroma of American Spirits still staining his breath. Joel Miller was a sick fuck for what he was doing to you, and he knew it. You nipped at his lower lip in between tender kisses and quietly-spoken words, and whimpered.

“—not your TAs, not your professors—” he pressed on.

You opened your mouth to let a lewd moan escape when Joel lifted his hand to shove a thumb inside. Instinctively, you sucked the whole thing straight down to the knuckle.

“Nobody but me, y’hear that?” Afforded better leverage with his finger wedged between your teeth, he shook your head a little as he fucked you. Watched you bob and nod a wordless ‘yes’ in doe-eyed complaisance while his cock drove shockwaves of pleasure straight through you.

He rubbed his thumb back and forth, and you let him.

You drooled all over that man’s finger like it might’ve been supplying oxygen to your lungs, and when Joel leaned in and said, ‘Ya like that, sweet pea?’, you answered in the affirmative. Or at least as close as you could get while Joel was filling up his two favorite holes.

Your orgasm was maybe two strokes away from shattering bones, it seemed. Now was his chance.

Swiftly, Joel retracted his touch just far enough to drag a string of saliva out of your mouth—then deliver a taut but gentle slap to your cheek. The soft thwack, combined with the sounds your bodies were making down below, served only to elevate the pornographic pitch of your moan:

“Joel!”

“That’s right.”

Joel’s mouth hovered an inch over yours, half-smirking, as if waiting to suck the words clean off of your lips. You whined when his thrusts got quicker and the mouth that was grinning got to kissing your own again. Talking dirty, too.

“Show me who this cunt belongs to. Say it,” he grunted.

You clenched, kissed him back, were just barely aware of the words you were trying to form when you stuttered some unintelligible, ‘Y-Y—ohfuckdaddyjustlikethatoh—’

Oh.

Your eyes widened to Joel’s, and before you could even begin to process what was happening to your body, his name just snapped off your tongue like a shot. A shriek. Some blissfully half-strangled moan that Joel captured between his teeth as he fucked you into the mattress and held your body tight to his own. His palm was wet.

Your legs were wet.

The soft, heaving juncture between your bodies was wet.

You were only dimly aware of the sensation as you dug your heels in Joel’s back and let out a series of cries and moans, but then that fluttering feeling inside made you flinch. A pulsing between your thighs and a…warmth.

You were still blinking through a post-euphoric haze when you felt a soft heat simmer and sink within you.

Did Joel just…cum inside you? Again?

“You dumb motherfucker,” you hissed without hesitation.

You’d just managed to shove him away—not far, but away—when you scrambled into a sitting position and slapped a hand over your stomach. Expecting to feel a churning and an awful pinch as you came to make out some vague sensation of Joel’s seed painting your insides, you were surprised when you didn’t get it at all.

In point of fact, Joel had just sprayed a full Jackson Pollock onto your stomach and was blinking, still fisting his cock as you quickly made your way back to your feet.

Where was that wetness coming from?

You stood and stared down at your stomach. Your legs. The translucent, trickling something that had paved a clear path between your thighs and all over Joel’s front. It didn’t make sense, unless—

“You fuckin’ squirted!” Joel cheered.

Your first instinct was to make a face.

That shit only happened in poorly produced pornos and movies based on books by Colleen Hoover, not real-life human beings. What the hell was this man on about?

“Be fucking serious,” you scowled, reaching for a stray shirt on the floor. Before realizing it was even yours, you hastily swiped several big globs of Joel’s cum with it. Your face grew even more enflamed, and yourself, oddly…ashamed. You couldn’t quite make sense of why Joel was grinning so big, or why you felt so embarrassed by what appeared to be a natural bodily function, but you suspected it probably had something to do with the state of sex education in Texas. Those fuckers definitely skipped squirting in favor of abstinence-only rhetoric.

Still weird. Still gross. You wished Joel would stop smiling.

“Lose the look or I’ll slap that fuckin’ grey off your head.”

Admittedly, neither aftercare nor communication was your métier. You started throwing on clothes, annoyed.

Meanwhile, Joel was swiping moisture off his abdomen three thick fingers at a time and wiggling the residue up for you to see—‘All it is is a sign of good lovin’, sweets, ain’t nothin’a be ashamed of!’—and you gave him just one finger in return. You were sliding your shorts up your legs and attempting to scrap the jizz off your FEDRA top when Joel started shrugging on his stolen clothes, too.

Your back was turned to him, eyes scanning the almost too-calm outdoors through the window a minute later, when you felt an arm snake close around your waist.

“Tastes a little like honey,” Joel crooned in your ear, doubtlessly smirking as he swayed you, “Only sweeter.”

You rolled your eyes. No cunt tasted like a honeycomb.

And you tried to say as much when he stroked over the strip of exposed skin between your shorts and the hem of your shirt, squeezing you tighter, but Joel was too good. He spidered a teasing touch over your tummy and yanked you back into his chest when you squealed and tried to break free. Then your sides, your ribcage, your shoulder blades—anyplace Joel could tickle, he tried to—and most spots, you were squeamish as hell. You clamped a hand over your half-open, giggling mouth, and when you felt him flip you around, you didn’t protest.

Suddenly, Joel’s hands were on either side of your face. He wasn’t smiling quite so big anymore but nevertheless maintained a kind glint behind his eyes. They were soft.

“‘M’sorry,” he said.

Then, pausing as if to consider his words, he said,

“You did great.”

He stopped again to press a kiss on the tip of your nose.

“So good.”

When he saw another smile twitch at the corners of your lips, as though asking him for more, he kissed those too.

“If that was your first time with…that…I’m, uh…”

“What?”

Another beat. Another stupid, stubbled grin.

“The luckiest…senior citizen sonovabitch, I guess.”

At the tail end of that, and once Joel had punctuated his sentence with another tender peck, you met his gaze again. Somehow, it had only gotten softer. His thumbs were searing the gentlest of imprints in the apples of your cheeks, his breaths were even and warm, and if you hadn’t known any better, you might’ve thought the man was contemplating saying something else to you then.

He didn’t.

The bridge to an old Billy Joel song made sure of that.

“And when she’s walkin’, she’s lookin’ so f-i-i-i-ine.”

You heard gravel crunch outside the cabin.

“And when she’s talkin’, she’ll say that she’s m-i-i-i-ine.”

Footsteps bounding up the half-rotted, cedar steps.

“She’ll say I’m not so tough just because I’m in love wi—SHIT.”

Tess’s face went blank the second the door swung open.

Thankfully, both of you were clothed. You and Joel leapt apart like she’d just caught you in doggy, though. And Tess looked like she might’ve seen an asscheek or two with the way she was staring at you both, letting the screen door slam shut, and a wordless ‘what-the-fuck’ caught somewhere in the tepid air between you three.

You stared at Tess, and Tess stared at you. Joel peered over her shoulder for the arrival of any more onlookers or folks just wanting to sing ‘Uptown Girl’ in your general vicinity. Fortunately, no one else appeared behind her.

But Tess looked awestruck enough for fifty people. She blinked and visibly swallowed as her gaze shifted to Joel.

“So FEDRA does dick appointments now?” she hissed.

“No!”

“I’m not—”

“He’s from the other camp.”

“You’re shitting me. Absolutely shitting me right now.”

You brought both hands to your face in a stifling, quiet desperation, unsure what to do. Joel just blinked back.

“I’m—we’re—” he started.

“Fucking!” Tess bit back, “You are so fucking. Raw.”

She wasn’t wrong. Her sixth sense for knowing who was having clandestine sex in her bed was kind of insane.

But, where you expected a look of horror to crawl into those taut, too-smart-for-her-own-good features, you found your bunkmate starting to raise her eyebrows.

Then laugh.

Tess threw her head back and laughed because she thought you were boinking a FEDRA camp counselor.

Joel shared a similar look of surprise but didn’t laugh.

“Yeah, I’m uh…J—” Again, he made as if to speak, to introduce himself, but Tess cut him off. About to wheeze.

“Lucien Flores, you dirty dog!” she cackled.

Joel glanced down at his nametag, started to shake his head, and probably didn’t anticipate Tess smacking him on the shoulder in a semi-congratulatory sort of way. Given a little more muscle to the playful punch, she just might’ve knocked him over. Joel was then trying to pry the pin off his polo just as you stepped closer to her.

“Tess, he’s…” You considered spilling the beans en masse but quickly decided against it. You’d have to stick to the barest of bones if you had any hope of escaping this place. So, resuming, you squeezed her arm and just said:

“Flores is gonna bust us out. Get your shit and we’ll go.”

Theresa Servopoulos didn’t need to be told twice.

And when she scrambled over to her sex-stricken bunk, inquired with a hurried but patently grossed out expression about who the fuck had wet the bed while she was gone, Joel didn’t hesitate—he said it was him.

“FEDRA man with a piss kink. I like you already, Lucien.”

[captainreecejames]

Pick Me Up?

Charles Leclerc imagine

summary : the four times Charles picks you up and the one time you pick him up.

pairing : Charles leclerc x fem!reader

I believe there is no mention of YN, but I'm not 100% sure.

word count : 3.5 k

warnings : none that I can think of

note : I only read over this once so if there's spelling errors or other mistakes that's what happened. Next up should either be Logan Sargeant my ex is a footballer or the social media accompanying fic. Anyways, enjoy and me if you like it!!

1. Charles picks you up from a bad date

The date had started fine.

Actually more than fine. He showed up on time, was pleasant to the waitress, and had good manners. Really, he would have even gotten a second date, if he hadn’t brought up Formula 1.

It’s a topic you tend to avoid when meeting new people, as they either tend to know a lot already and want to use you to get to Charles or they don’t know anything and assume that you are using Charles, when they know nothing about your relationship. It was a hassle you learned to shut down before it even began.

But back at the date with Vince, he had brought it up and that’s when things started to go down hill. 

Despite your best efforts, when people brought up Formula 1, you grew taller and more focused on the conversation, it’s like a switch flipped. While Charles driving for the best known team certainly helped your interest, everything about the sport was fascinating for you and you couldn’t help but geek out when the topic came up. 

Vince noticed your reaction and his casual demeanor turned critical. “You only know about it because you think the drivers are hot.” That had made your smile drop instantly, brows furrowing as you tried to respond. “Probably can’t even name all the teams.” He thinks that stumps you, but you’ve dealt with enough shitty men in this sport, you’re not taking anything more from this wanna-be investor.

“I don’t have to prove my knowledge of F1 to you,” you state, deciding that this dinner is now over.

“Oh, now I know you can’t even name five drivers.” Your frown deepens, picking up your napkin and placing it on the table next to your plate. It had gone down hill so fast, how disappointing.

“Your attempt at insulting me into submission is falling flat.” His eyes are wide at your comment, and he must not have expected you realize his move. You flag the waitress over and she walks quickly back to your table, noticing how you’re not smiling anymore. Seems like this date is a bust, so another twenty note must be added to the jar of bets amongst the staff of this restaurant.

(You and Charles visit the place often as it was the sight of your first job, but also the food and people were lovely, and bringing a first date here was the safest option.)

(So they all knew you and were betting on when the dam breaks and you two admit your feelings for each other.)

You hand Lucille enough money to cover both yours and Vince’s meals, not bothering with the change. Your goal now is to get as far away from Vince as soon as possible. He  opens his mouth to say something again, but you are already out of your seat and walking towards the front door, phone calling Charles to pick you up.

He answers on the first ring, always on alert when you go on dates.

(Not because he’s jealous or anything, but because he’s worried about you and needs to make sure that you stay safe. He’s been tempted to bribe the staff of your little restaurant for information during dates after a particularly bad one, but his mom talked him out of it.)

“Ma cherie, is everything alright?” You roll your eyes at his question, just knowing that there’s a smirk on his face right now. He didn’t have a great feeling about Vince, but he wouldn’t say I told you so.

“Can you pick me up please?” You barely need to finish your question before he answers with an ‘of course, I’m already on my way.’

“Need me to stay on the phone?” You glance back at the restaurant, looking in the window to find Vince scrolling away on his phone, oblivious to the movement around him.

“No, focus on the streets. I’ll be fine.” Charles hums his answer and hangs up, leaving you to look busy on the streets of Monte Carlo.

He pulls up not even two minutes later, stopping the car haphazardly in a tow-away zone. You rush to the side, opening the door and shimmying in as fast as you can because even though this is Charles Leclerc’s very recognizable Pista, you don’t want to risk any tickets. While he pulls away you realize how fast he showed up and a question forms on your lips, but he speaks before you have the chance to ask.

“I was only down the road at the marina.” He seems sheepish, like the answer is rehearsed, but you don’t push it because you’re still grateful that he showed up. What would you do without him to pick up after a bad date?

2. Charles picks you cause your car breaks down

This time when you call him should feel less embarrassing than other times, but really it only feels worse. How are you going to admit to him that the car you’ve been saving up for and desperately wanting since you were 7 just crapped out on you before you could even get out of the parking garage? Especially when he advised you against such car. It would be humiliating. 

Alas, you made the call, practicing in your mind what you would say to him. 

Again, he picks up on the first ring, though this time you’re not sure as to why he answered so fast.

“Is everything alright, ma cherie?” You blush, grateful he can’t see your face.

“I’m stuck,” you exhale, ready to face what ever he has in store for you.

“Stuck?”

“My car won’t start and I’m still at work, everyone else has left and I’m in need of a ride.”

“Okay,” he answers, relief filling you. “I’m leaving the gym with Andrea, I should be there in 15 minutes. Don’t talk to any strangers.”

“Love you too, Charles.” You roll your eyes, hanging up on him and sitting in the drivers seat of your beloved, but broken, car. That’s some good money about to go down the drain for the tow and mechanic fees. As you debate calling your dad to help you out with diagnosing what’s wrong with the car, a familiar rumble enters the garage, and you see the ever famous Pista pulling up next to you, a smirking Charles in the driver’s seat.

“Someone call for a pick up?” You want to roll your eyes at him, but the smile on his face makes the irritation melt away. After a long day at work, made even longer because your stupid car that you really wanted wouldn’t start, all you feel is relief and affection for the man in front of you, and it’s a little too overwhelming.

Tears pool in your eyes and Charles frowns, cutting the engine and climbing out so he can hug you. He only admits it to his mother, but holding you is just as good a driving when he’s driving on the track with a car that responds to his every command.

(And what he won’t admit to anyone is that if holding you feels like that, then kissing you must feel like he’s just won a world championship.)

“Ma cherie,” he whispers, pulling your body into his own and stroking your hair to soothe you. He doesn’t ask any questions, which you’re grateful for, you don’t actually know what’s wrong other than everything is just too much and him showing up makes you feel safe enough to let it all out.

When you’ve finally slowed your breathing and made yourself relax he pulls away, looking at you with so much love in his eyes that you’re not sure if you’re dreaming. “Now you know what it felt like to drive under Binnotto.”

The comment is a shock and it makes you snort, which is what Charles was going for. Your laugh that he thinks could make him smile even in the darkest moods. “You can’t say that Mr. Ferrari.” You smack his chest while shaking your head, but the rueful smile on your face tells him that you still haven’t gotten over the team principle screwing him over.

Then the smile eases into something much more natural, and he knows the tense moment has passed. “Takeout?” he suggests, ushering you to the passenger side of his car. You nod at him and he’s pretty sure that he would do anything to make you smile.

3. Charles picks you up for a spontaneous lunch date

The next day it’s he who calls you, but you still an answer on the first ring.

(You’ve dedicated a Måneskin song as his ringtone so you always know when he’s calling)

(He made your ringtone a Mika song after you dragged him to a concert)

“Charles,” you answer, confusion in your tone.

“Ma cherie!” he sounds excited and you can’t help but want to follow him anywhere he goes when he sounds like that.

“Is everything alright?” You ask it this time, because shouldn’t he be packing for a race now?

“I’m outside, we’re going to spend the day on the water.” After leaving your home last night, Charles decided that you needed a pick me up, and what better way but to spend a few hours lounging around on his yacht, soaking up the sun and enjoying each other’s company.

(No one else would be there, but this wasn’t a date.)

(Seriously Arthur, it wasn’t a date.)

You spare a glance around your room, laundry begging to be done and dishes waiting to be washed. Yeah, you could use a day away from chores.

“Let me grab a bag,” you tell him, already throwing more clothes around the room in search of your favorite bathing suit. He hums through the speaker and you put your phone down to keep searching for the bathing suit. It was your favorite red crossover one piece and you be damned if you didn’t wear it today, anything to manifest a Ferrari win.

When you finally manage to find it, in the pile of clean but not put away laundry, you pick your phone back up and tell Charles you’ll be right down.

In two minutes you’re out the door of apartment, eyes landing on Charles leaning against his car. He looks so handsome with the windswept hair and Ray-bans on, you really have to wonder why he’s spending the afternoon with you and not some model he met in a garage.

(He’d say it’s because it’s the weekend before a race and this is a tradition, spending the afternoon with you before he leaves is the only way to ward off bad luck.)

(Seriously, before the Netherlands race last year you'd been unable to make it because of a bad cold and he had to retire the car that race, so safe to say you were forced to the boat, or his apartment, or he came over before the plane every time after that.)

Maybe the question is what would he do without you?

4. Charles picks you up from a girl’s night

This time Charles doesn’t pick up on the first ring, in fact, he barely makes it to the phone in time to answer. That’s because it’s not you who is calling, but rather a friend.

You and few girl friends had decided on a girls night out for one of them going through a bad break up, but after a few pregame shots and then drinks at this club, you were pretty intoxicated.

Looking for your group after coming back from the bathroom and the bar, you had spotted Lando and Max across the room, which made you think about Charles.

(Not that he ever really left your mind.)

And when you think about Charles, you wonder where he is, so you went to your friends. Both their faces lit up when they saw you, indicating that they were also not sober. After a quick hug for both of them you turn to survey the rest of the bar, looking for your Monagasque. 

“He’s not here!” shouts Max, trying to be heard over the noise. Your shoulders drop, turning back to the two racers with a pout on your lips.

“Where is he?” you ask, trying to seem nonchalant, but drunk you can’t hide her feelings as easily as sober you.

(Many would argue that sober you can’t hide her feelings easily either, but all that matters is that Charles doesn’t find out. And since he’s too occupied in hiding his also obvious feelings, you’re both oblivious to the other’s pining.)

Lando says that Charles stayed at home, something about playing the piano and having an early night was more tempting than drinks. The real reason being that if Charles went out he would not have been able to stop thinking about you and your potential suitors, which would lead to him drinking to forget. He was not up for another heartbreak hangover.

Your eyes light up at the mention of Charles playing the piano, sitting down in the booth with them. “Oh! I bet it’s going to sound wonderful!” Both drivers roll their eyes, and to their disappointment, you’re not drunk enough to miss it. “You don’t like his music?” The accusation in your tone makes them readjust their face. It’s not that they don’t like his compositions, it’s just that when Charles explains them, it’s almost always about how you looked on a certain day and he just was so inspired he had to put something down. They’re really tired of the back and forth between you too.

You begin your speech on how talented Charles is at the piano, which then morphs into how talented he is as a driver, and then as a person. It all turns into a ramble about how proud you are of him, something they’ve all heard before.

When you’ve somehow made it to Leo and how Charles chose the perfect puppy, the man himself shows up.

“Ma cherie,” he interjects, placing a hand on your shoulder to get your attention. You turn towards him, and Max swears that there should be cartoon hearts in your eyes.

“Charles!” you yell, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug. “What are you doing here?” You’re slightly too loud for being in his arms, but he doesn’t care if you yell his ear off, it’s still you.

“Max said you were ready to come home.” Your brows furrow at that, because you don’t remember ever saying that, or even Max disappearing to call Charles, but you can’t be mad at him showing up.

“One more drink?” you ask, eyes pleading with him. Charles shakes his head, he can feel how much he’s supporting your weight even while sitting and knows that any more alcohol will likely end with you tripping over yourself.

“Water,” he answers and you’ve agreed to the words coming out of his mouth because it’s Charles, and he’ll never steer you wrong.

Charles heads to the bar to grab a water, running into your group of friends there. He tells them your status and that’ll he’ll be taking you home after this drink. They all nod along, most of them predicting that the night would end like this: Charles showing up and driving you home.

When it’s finally time to leave and Charles has ushered you out of the packed club into his Pista, you remember that you came here with a completely different group. “The girls!”

“Don’t worry, ma cherie, I saw them before we left and told them I’d take you home.” The gentle smile on his face is enough to put one on yours. Where would you be without him, indeed.

+ 1. You pick Charles up from the airport

You’ve got a new car now, thanks to Charles, and since he needs to be picked up from the airport, you’ve decided to take it for a nice spin. The roads are relatively clear for the drive, and you’re there in the usual 30 minutes. That makes you early for Charles, but you take the time to work out what you’re going to say to him.

Before you get out of the car you text him your location, so that he can head right out and find you, rather than you going into the terminal to look for him. He always was better at finding you.

The last night out had not only ended with Charles taking you home, but with a revelation. You couldn’t keep living like this. Loving him so much and not telling him was suffocating. It made you feel like you were on the edge of a cliff with nothing to keep you safe, and you were tired of it. So the question was, how did you tell him.

“Charles, I’ve been in love with you for ages,” you said, but shook your head. That didn’t sound right.

“Charles, I have to tell you something really important. I think I’m in love with you.” No, you shook your head again and groaned. “I don’t think I’m in love with him, I know I am.”

“Charles, you’re the most important person in my life, I don’t know what I’d do with out you.” Okay, solid start, you might have something with that.

“Charles light of my life.” No. “That’s too cheesy.”

“God, I wish I could put into words how much you mean to me. I love you so much I don’t know what to do with myself most of the time. It’s like I need to feel you to be able to breathe properly. All I really ever need is for you to look and smile at me and I’ll know that everything will be alright. I can get through anything with you there. If you love someone else it would break my heart, but knowing that you’re happy is all I need to be okay. I’d live with the thought of you loving someone else, because if they made you as happy and good as I feel, then there’s nothing more I could ask for.” Yeah, that sounded-

“Well it’s a good thing I love you too.”

You screamed, turning around to see Charles behind you in all his glory. Black sweatshirt and baggy jeans, hair messy like he ran his hand through it multiple times.

“How long have you been there?” you asked, face turning red enough to rival Ferrari.

“At Charles, light of my life.” He shrugged, like you hadn’t just bared your soul out to him. “Though, I disagree, it’s not too cheesy.” Could you get any redder? Feels like this is as red as a human being could get before self-combusting.

He’s just standing there, with a dopey smile on his face that you want to kiss, but you can’t. Something is holding you to the spot. You force yourself to say something. “Can you say something else?”

“Like what?”

“Anything else, I feel like I’m going to explode if you don’t say something.”

“Thanks for coming to pick me up.” He adds a shrug to the end and you narrow your eyes.

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

“Oh, you want me to say that I love you too.”

“I don’t want you to say it if you don’t mean it.” If you were a kid you’d add a stomp to the end, as if you were throwing a temper tantrum. He furrows his brow like he’s confused and still you want to kiss him senseless.

“Well, I mean it.”

Now you’re the one confused. “What?”

“I love you too, and I don’t think I’d be okay if you loved someone else as much as I love you. Because I’m selfish and a terrible man and I want you all to myself.” He shakes his head. “I need you all to myself,” he corrects. “You’re the love of my life and if I wasn’t yours then I don’t think I could go on. But you said you do love me, so everything is so much easier now.” Each sentence is punctuated with a step closer, until he’s just a few inches from you, like he needs you to take the last step. You do, without hesitation, because you really would do anything for him.

Eyes glancing at his lips and back, you catch him doing the same thing. “I love you more than anything in this world. I’d give up racing if you asked, I do anything for you.”

Another glance at his lips. “I’d never ask that of you, Charles. But, I love you too, and I’d do anything for you.” His smile at those words would normally catch you off guard, like you’d stop breathing at it, but somehow it just makes everything easier right now. So you kiss him.

Leaning forward those last few inches to grab his shoulders and pull him down so you can kiss him with as much love as you can muster. If words can’t explain how much you love him then maybe kissing him will convey it. That you love him more than words, actions and thoughts can combine. You love him.

(And he loves you.)

[moonstruckme]

I’m begging for emt marauders where r dislocated her shoulder a stupid way and so r goes to another hospital to avoid them but then they show up bc their hospital is was on a bypass and see r

Thanks for requesting!

cw: shoulder injury no description

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 814 words

It’s dark, and despite the cloak of poor lighting and the distance between you, you lock eyes with James from across the parking lot. His brows furrow and he nearly drops the gurney he’s lowering out of his ambulance, Sirius hopping down to help. You see his lips form your name. 

Sirius’ head snaps up. 

There’s nowhere to hide. You shoot them a sheepish smile, your footsteps stalling before you remember to get out of the crosswalk. Remus’ head appears a moment later, peering out of the back of the ambulance. He helps James lower their patient onto the pavement, the both of them shooting worried glances at you as they wheel him inside and Sirius takes off towards you. 

“What the fuck?” he calls as he jogs over. Your boyfriend’s dark hair is tied back in a short ponytail, and it gleams under the fluorescent lights outside the hospital. He looks from your face, to where you’re holding your arm tight to your side, and back again. “What are you doing here?” 

“I, um, didn’t think I’d see you.” It’s out before you can think it through, but in all fairness you’re having a bit of a strenuous evening. 

Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “That’s not what I asked. Sweetheart, what did you do to yourself?” 

You rub your lips together, feeling suddenly very sorry for yourself. Your shoulder really does hurt a lot. “I think I might’ve dislocated my shoulder?” 

“How’d you manage that?”

You hesitate. “Don’t laugh.” 

“Don’t laugh about what?” James asks as he joins you. Remus isn’t far behind. James peers at your arm, looking about as sorry for you as you are. “Are you hurt?” 

“She thinks she’d dislocated it,” Sirius informs him. 

“What were you doing?” Remus moves to your side, setting a comforting hand on your back as he touches near it gingerly. You hiss through your teeth and he stops. 

“You guys can’t laugh at me,” you insist. 

“Well, now I think I might not be able to help myself.” Sirius is smiling at you slightly, though his brows are still bunched with sympathy. “Come on, out with it.” 

You chew your bottom lip. Remus’ eyebrow lifts expectantly. “Okay,” you breathe out, “um, you know how I’ve been going out to rollerskate lately?” 

Remus’ expression clouds over. “I told you that was dangerous,” he says. “Were you wearing your pads?”

“Angel, this late?” James appears scandalized. “It’s been dark for hours!” 

You feel your face heat, growing more sheepish by the second. Sirius gives you a stern look. “Go on,” he says. 

“There was decent lighting and everything, but I accidentally started going down this hill, and I was going, um, really quite fast.” All three of your boyfriends tense in anticipation. “So I threw myself into the grass and I think I landed on my shoulder wrong.” 

Sirius gives a little chuckle, ignoring your glare. “You think?”

“Okay, I’ll admit,” says Remus, “that is a slightly funny image. But it’s less funny that you actually got hurt, dove. Did you come all the way out here just to avoid running into us?” 

You’re too surprised to hide your wince. Trust Remus to have you completely pegged without so much as a conversation. 

James’ lips part at your reaction. “Did you really?” 

“What are you even doing here?” you ask, shamefaced. 

Sirius crosses his arms, narrowing his eyes at you. “Our hospital’s on bypass,” he answers. 

You shrink further under the intensity of his gaze. 

“Angel,” James sighs. He steps closer and cups the back of your head, resting his lips heavily on your hairline. “Well, there’s no avoiding us now,” he says, straightening. “We haven’t taken our breaks yet, want us to sit with you while they get you sorted?” 

“Yes, please,” you reply in a small voice. 

Remus makes a compassionate sound in his throat, encouraging you towards the entrance with his hand on your back. “We’d better get you in, then. Hopefully we’ll be able to expedite things with the three of us here.” 

You start to relax, two of your boyfriends seemingly haven forgiven your secrecy. You chance a look at the third, still watching you with a stern expression as you walk towards the hospital doors. He catches your look and flicks up a brow. 

“You’d better still tell me I’m handsome when my hair is all gray,” he says, in the kind of severe tone that makes you doubt whether he’s teasing. “It’s already starting at the roots, and you’re entirely to blame.” 

You quell the urge to smile. “You’ll always be handsome,” you tell him sincerely. 

“That’s the attitude.” Sirius walks backwards in front of you, pecking you firmly on the lips before falling back into step beside you. “Keep rehearsing those lines, sweetheart. I’ll be needing to hear them more often if you keep up with this rollerskating bullshit.” 

[beansprean]

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oh my god they're engaged to be engaged...

(also this is entirely separate from the izzyguana series fyi, but my god I have drawn their little island so many times by now)

(ID in alt and under cut)

ID: 1a. Wide shot of Stede and Ed's ramshackle house on a hill of long grass, a forested mountain sliding into the sea behind them as the sun peeks above the waves, painting them orange and yellow. Some work has been put into the house since they found it: the holes in the roof have been boarded over or covered with tarp, a rickety porch railing and staircase off the left side have been built on from scraps, oil lamps have been hung on each corner, and an addition on the right side is in progress, rocks stacked on the wood-slat roof and tarps hanging from unfinished walls. Planks of wood, tools, and fishing poles are leaned up against the porch, the path to the house has been cleared out and defined by stones and shells, and a wooden sign out front has the words "Best Little Inn By The Sea! +fishing equipment" carved into it. Stede and Ed, wearing a teal blouse with brown leather trousers and purple tee with black leather trousers respectively, are standing on the porch and looking out over the land, arms around each others waist. Stede raises his arm in a wave and shouts, "Great to see you two! Come again any time!" In the foreground, Pete and Lucius are walking down the path away from the house, looking tired. Pete has one arm around Lucius's shoulders and his eyes are closed, head listing to the side. Lucius covers his mouth as he yawns, lifting the other to throw a halfhearted wave over his shoulder. 1b. Waist-up in profile of Stede and Ed on the porch, sunrise behind them. Closest to the viewer, Stede stares out after their guests, hand lowering, smile fading to something a little bittersweet. Ed leans into Stede, free hand in his pants pocket, and rests his head in the crook of his neck as he follows Stede's gaze with a thoughtful smile. Ed asks, "You ever think about that for us?" 1c. Repeat. Stede's hand drops further, wrist dangling, as he turns his face toward Ed with a bewildered smile. "What?" Ed straightens from his cuddle, embarrassed, but keeps his right hand on Stede's waist. His left gestures randomly as he scrunches up his face, avoiding Stede's gaze. He explains, "Y'know...the matie-monie thing, whatever."

2a. Zoom out slightly; Stede takes a step back toward the house to face Ed as he pivots with his back toward the yard. They are still connected waist-to-hand. Stede plants his free hand on his hip with a smug little smirk and says, "Well I certainly hope that's not your proposal." Ed waves his free hand in a 'stop' motion, flustered as he meets his partner's eyes, and splutters "Wha- no! No, mate, I just... 'M having a dialogue." 2b. Repeat, zoom in. Ed dips his chin to look up at Stede through his lashes, red-faced and accepting defeat as he mumbles, "...How would you want it to go, though? Hypothetically." Stede giggles helplessly, free hand leaving his hip to rest fingertips on Ed's chest. 2c. Repeat, the background cutting out in favor of the sunrise occurring between them. They are almost forehead-to forehead, both of Stede's hands now pressed to Ed's chest and idly playing with the tips of his hair. Ed stares at his face with hooded eyes. Stede smiles, gaze lowered to focus on his hands, and says "Oh, I don't know. A bit of romance, you know. Dazzle." 2d. Repeat, zoom in to bust, background now mottled oranges and yellows. Ed raises his head to look past Stede with a frown, brow furrowed in confusion as he repeats blankly, "Dazzle." Stede hums idly to himself, concentrating on petting Ed's chest. 2e. Repeat. Stede lifts his head with a little smile, putting them nose-to-nose and adds, "I wouldn't say no to some fireworks." Ed flusters at the pointed reminder of their first time, cheeks turning red and a wobbly smile creeping across his face.

3a. Repeat. Stede asks, "What about you?" Ed leans back from their embrace, smile turning incredulous as he repeats, "Me?!" 3b. Waist up of Ed as he turns, sunrise at his back, to lean his left arm against the porch railing. He glances over the yard with a resigned little frown, fiddling with a piece of his hair with his right hand. He replies, "I dunno. Never really thought about it." 3c. Chest up of Stede as he mirrors Ed's pose with a fond if slightly amused smile, stairs and forest behind him. Offscreen, Ed continues, "Bet you had a whole scrapbook of ideas, eh?" 3d. Repeat. Stede straightens with a "Well!" and turns his body to face the house. 3e. Knees-up from the house POV as both men lean against the porch railing, the yard, ocean, and brightening sky beginning to streak itself with orange beyond. Stede is facing the viewer, back to the yard, leaning with his elbows braced on the railing. He aims his gaze to the side with a bit of a pained smile and says, "When Mary and I were engaged, a scrapbook wouldn't have been much use." Ed is turned toward Stede, left elbow propped on the railing. He scowls and sticks out his tongue at mention of Mary. 3f. Repeat. Stede turns his head toward Ed, who quickly tucks his petty tongue back in his mouth and schools his expression into one of interest. Stede continues, "Everything had been decided for us already. Never really got to the proposal part."

4a. Repeat. Ed turns his body more fully toward Stede, folding his arms on the railing and leaning his head over them with a warm smile. Stede raises his eyebrows in surprise and goes slightly pink as Ed says, "I'll have to make it really good, then." 4b. Stede turns his body toward Ed, left arm sliding against the railing behind him and right hand cupping Ed's chin as he leans closer, nose to nose. Ed's eyes hood, looking at Stede's mouth as is curls into a loving smile. Stede responds, "Can't wait." 4c. Repeat. Ed suddenly goes pale and blurts out, "You'll say yes, though, right?" Stede freezes in surprise, lips puckered in preparation of a kiss. 4d. Repeat. Stede throws his head back in a loud bark of laughter, straightening up and turning fully toward Ed to cup his cheek in his right hand and his shoulder with the other. Ed aims an embarrassed, besotted smile at him as Stede replies, "Ed, of course! Who could say no to you?"

5a. Repeat, both now in profile. The orange and yellow light of the sunrise is slowly spreading across the sky from the left. Ed straightens up from his lean to bring their foreheads together, still a bit red-cheeked and with a nervous edge to his smile as he lowers his gaze. He says, "You can say no if you want, though." Stede smiles at him with every ounce of tenderness he has, hands firm on his cheek and shoulder. He replies, "There's nothing I want more than to say yes to you, Ed. Permanent ink, remember?" 5b. Repeat. Stede moves his right hand from Ed's cheek to hook around his back, tugging him closer as he leans himself back. Ed stumbles forward with a helpless grin, cheeks even redder, bracing himself with his right hand on Stede's chest. When their eyes meet, Stede's smile turns teasing and faux-sinister, continuing, "You're stuck with me regardless. Foreverrr~" 5c. Repeat, larger and brighter, as Stede and Ed finally come together in an affirming kiss, the land behind them retreating to allow the sea and sky to fill the background. The sun finally breaches the horizon, sending glitter sparkling across the waves and gilding the pair in warm golden light. Ed's right hand is cupping the side of Stede's neck, thumb tracing through his sideburns, and Stede's right is hooked fully around his shoulders, cushioned in his soft hair. They are both smiling into the kiss, unhurried and in harmony.

6a. Repeat as they pull back from the kiss just far enough to meet each other's gaze, arms still around each other, Ed's right hand brushing Stede's cheek and Stede's buried in the back of Ed's hair. Ed smirks flirtatiously, eyes hooded, and says, "You know... I hear there's a traditional engagement sex sabbatical, too." Stede matches his expression, left hand sliding down Ed's shoulder to press against his lower back. Stede replies playfully, "Oh, is there? I suppose I can plan that part, then." 6b. Repeat. Ed brings his left hand up to mirror his right, cupping both of Stede's cheeks, and arches up on his toes to lean over Stede with a teasing grin. His movement forces Stede to arch his back in the first motions of a dip, hands briefly flying free of their grip on his future fiance to try to catch his balance. Their lips a centimeter apart, Ed hums, "Mmm, gimme a rehearsal, first." Stede tosses his head back with a giggle in response, eyes closed, cheeks pink. Hearts float above their heads. 6c. Shot at the bottom of the hill Stede and Ed are stationed on, the packed-dirt path to the house curving upward in the background, the stones and shells now more conservatively scattered. Amidst the tall grass and tropical plants lining the way are handmade wooden signs shaped like arrows pointing the way to the inn. Words carved into them say "this way!" and "best inn!" Pete and Lucius are in the foreground, walking down the hill towards the viewer, Pete's right arm still looped around his husband's shoulders. They still look very tired with dark circles beneath their eyes - Pete still hasn't opened his. Lucius has, barely, and is scowling his way forward with a furrowed brow, declaring, "We are leaving them the worst review." Pete nods solemnly. Text nearby points to them and says 'kept up all night by noises'. Pink hearts and exclamation points spill out behind them from the bend in the path, echoing the lovey-dovey noises from above that must have made their stay so insufferable. /end ID

[upsidedownwithsteve]

What if was Steve dreaming about reader cheating on him?🧡

Steve Harrington x fem!reader

WHAT IF? - MAKE IT BETTER ☁️

You woke up to Steve already staring at you.

It would’ve been startling if you weren’t already well used to the feel of him so close, bare skin warm from bed, hair mussed, brown eyes sleepy. Except this time, this morning, they were clouded.

Frowning, you stared back at Steve’s scowl. Neither of you were what would be considered a morning person, and with the faint yellow-blue glow of the day coming in from the gap in the curtains, you guessed it was still early.

Too early for someone to as annoyed as Steve looked.

You grumbled as you shifted between the sheets, voice groggy and eyes still bleary as you yawned into your pillow. Huffing, you rolled onto your side and nudged at Steve’s jaw with your nose. Your cold hands found his bed warmed side, fingers trailing over the hills of his ribs.

“Who pissed in your cornflakes?”

Steve huffed right back, titling his chin up to make space for the way your head buried itself into the crook of his neck. His body was tense, but still, he moved his legs to allow your own to wedge itself between his thighs.

“Harvey Gleeson,” Steve replied, haughty sounding and voice still rough with sleep.

You paused, not expecting there to be someone to actually pin the blame on. Brows furrowed in confusion, you lifted your head from Steve’s chest and stared at him, waiting for an explanation.

Steve didn’t give one.

“Excuse me?”

Cheeks flushed, Steve’s scowl deepened. “You heard,” he mumbled, suddenly squirming with embarrassment. He scrunched his nose, eyes crinkling as he weighed up his next words. “Gleeson. Had a stupid dream,” Steve groaned, pushing his face into the pillow when he saw you grin.

You laughed, thick still with sleep but you wriggled yourself closer to the boy, stealing the warmth that had snuck from his body to the sheets. You wrapped yourself around him, legs intertwined, arms wound around his neck so you could sink your fingers into his hair. You pouted, trying to contain your smile.

“You did?” You sounded smug, awfully so, even to your ears. You couldn’t help it though, stupid dreams were something you specialised in, not Steve. “What happened?”

Steve grumbled again, his face pushed to your chest instead of his pillow now. You felt his lips ghost over the skin there, mouthing at your collarbone until the heat settled from his face.

“You, like, totally ran away with him.” Steve sounded pained, less grouchy now that you were awake and wrapped around him, your nails scratching nicely at the nape of his neck, your lips pressed to his temple. “Just up and left, ditched town and jumped into the front of his stupid, souped up mustang and said sayonara-”

You gasped, dramatic enough for Steve to bite at your shoulder and make you squeak, but you were laughing, head thrown back and eyes creasing in the corners. “Oh shit! Not the mustang—”

“— it’s so fucking dumb,” Steve interrupted but he was laughing too, a poor attempt at smothering it by hiding his smile against your chest. But his shoulders were shaking and you could hear his grin, his happiness. “Who spends that much on a car and asks for the paint to be piss yellow?”

You hummed, fully awake now with amusement making you feel more energised than any cup of coffee. Steve was moving, pushing you back into his pillows, his elbows caging you in as he propped himself over you. His hair was a lovely mess, his smile even prettier. A full on grin he couldn’t hide and he was looking down at you with those sleepy eyes, honey coloured and doting.

“You’re right,” you agreed, nodding with the most serious look you could muster. “Who even does that?” Your fingers found the loose stands of hair that curled around Steve’s ears and you pushed them back, your touch careful and full of affection. “S’a good thing I like my men with beemers, huh?”

Steve turned pink at your words, the source of his original grouchiness hit by a spotlight.

“Yeah?”

You grinned, unable to help it. “Oh yeah,” you continued, leaning up to kiss where you could. Your lips met the underside of his jaw, the point of his chin. “Love me a BMW. ‘Specially a little brown number—“

“— it’s burgundy, baby, we spoke about this—“

“— but there’s just something about their drivers, y’know?”

Steve rolled his eyes, hoping to appear more casual than he looked. His ears were tipped red, his eyes soft. “There is?” He asked.

“Mhmm.” You hummed, smiling, nose bumping Steve’s cheek as he leaned down, lips brushing your own in a kiss about to come. “They’re my favourite.”

[dragon-ascent]

Imagine having been with Zhongli for a while now, and you're suspicious about his true identity. So you decide to stage a confrontation when the two of you are alone at Wuwang Hill one night.

"I know what you are."

Zhongli stiffens, a little perturbed by the seriousness in your tone. The blue wisps of light dancing around you two cast an eerie glow upon the scene, which happens to be unfolding in the dead of night. He clears his throat. "Please, enlighten me, my dear."

You continue, looking him square in the eye. "Your skin is pale, and...alright, admittedly not cold. You never seem to need sleep. You only wear dark colors, and you have a refined manner of speaking and thinking, almost like...you come from another time."

Outwardly, Zhongli maintains his composure, though in his head he's already going through numerous ways he can gently break the news to you without you passing out.

"You really like silk flowers, which are red...like blood," you say excitedly. "Your eyes are unnaturally amber. Blood also comes in shades of amber, sometimes."

Your lover's brows are furrowed now. He only becomes even more perplexed when you start taking off the scarf around your neck, unraveling it slowly. "Darling, it's cold tonight-"

"So, you're a vampire, aren't you?" you cut in pointedly, a triumphant grin plastered on your face. "I should have known! I suspected it all along."

Zhongli blinks. "Er...pardon?"

Your grin widens. "Now that I know, please don't think I'll be scared of you! I've always been into supernatural creatures. So...feel free to drink my blood whenever you please!" You bare your neck to him, practically giddy. "But be gentle, it's my first time!"

When the appalled Zhongli reveals his real identity as the Prime of Adepti, God of Contracts, and former Geo Archon, you merely sigh, upset at having gotten it wrong.

[hanasnx]

up the hill

MINORS DNI 18+

"What are you watching?" The commotion on your phone had alerted your boyfriend DREW STARKEY who came into the room with innocent curiosity. You hadn't expected that he'd be interested in knowing, vaguely embarrassed as to the nature of the video contents, you smack your phone down, but your brain's disappointed that you're not viewing more.

"Nothing." you tell him with a little smile, and he collapses onto the bed next to you, scooting up behind you while you shuffle away from him.

Now he's interested because you're concealing it, chasing after you. "What? Is it porn, or something?" In a way he's not wrong and you open your mouth to reply when your speaker spills the beans.

"Keep the fucking money." the woman says on the video, and Drew's brows furrow with displeased discovery.

"Oh," He adjusts, propping himself up on his arm. "Oh, baby, I don't want you watching that."

You frown at the prospect of being denied, doubly intrigued as you face away from him and back to your phone, picking it up so the screen's visible and you can finish the video. The sounds of struggling make sense as you watch Drew— playing a character— pin an assumed-hooker to the wall by her hair. His hand looks huge when he grabs her face, forcing her to look at him as she thrashes in his grip, caging her with his body. Your eyes widen as Drew shifts closer, reaching over you to try to snatch your phone. You dodge, sitting up, eyes glued to the screen.

"Sweetheart," he says in a gentle chiding tone, "give me the phone." You tune him out, stuck on how he snickers on-screen when the girl spits in his face. When he reaches again, you jerk out of the way, watching how his biceps bulge as he slams her down on your phone. "Baby, I'm telling you, you don't wanna see this—" His hand keeps her trapped by her neck as he begins to undo his belt, and all those fuzzy feelings bubble in your belly, swallowing down the Pavlov effect of knowing what's to come when you hear that sound. Since you're distracted, Drew's able to round you, plucking your phone from your grip.

You hopelessly stretch up to grab for it. "Hey!"

Without answering you, he keeps a splayed hand between the two of you, standing at the edge of the bed, halting you as he exits out of YouTube on your phone and tosses it onto a nearby desk.

"C'mon, D, I know it was just a job." you reason with him, and he notes the way your brows upturn, how you moisten your lips, slump your shoulders. You're not just disappointed you didn't get to finish watching the scene, that gleam in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

Curiously, he skews his feature and tilts his head at you. "Are you horny right now?"

You open your mouth to speak, registering how your thighs are rubbing together which you cease immediately and close your mouth.

An expression of muted interest blooms on his countenance, and you surge to defend yourself. "You are, aren't you?"

"No, I was just—!" You animate your hands, gesturing for him to stop.

"Baby," he scoffs, and glances at you through his brows. "C'mon." That curl to his lips is irresistible, single-handedly imploring you to tell he truth.

You sigh, throwing your head back. "Yes." you relent. "Yes, I thought it was hot."

"Baby."

"Stop! It's not my fault! It's just the way you were like," You claw at the air in frustration, forming an invisible ball with them as if you were strangling something. "manhandling her."

He tongues the inside of his cheek, his knee dropping to the mattress as he nears you, and you don't realize his closeness until he's right next to you. Taken aback, you quiet. "Sounds like you want a little taste of that yourself, huh?"