#I need buttons and dials | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

zevrra · 1 month ago

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𝐀 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐌 ⋆˚꩜｡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩: out of all the days for your car to have broken down, leaving you stranded on the side of the road, it had to be the day your dad had just left for a sudden business trip—he was hours away by now and you were just here; stuck. you could call a tow truck but the bill for that was…way out of the budget. so the only other thing you could think of to do was to call your dad’s best friend; joel miller.

a.k.a joel (the sexiest man alive) comes to your rescue and you want to repay him for it.

𝐟𝐭.dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

𝐰𝐜: 7k

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: mdni, no-outbreak!joel, straight smut, no real plot, implied forbidden romance, significant AGE GAP, reader is in their 20s, joel is in his 50s, mention of sarah(30s + no ellie), no use of y/n, joel likes pet names, sexual tension, joel tries to remain morally ‘right’, joel’s a lil insecure if you squint, thigh riding if you squint, dirty talk, handjob (both m and f receiving), unprotected p in v (just the tip!), coming onto/between v too.

𝐚/𝐧: FIND PART 2 HERE

You’ve heard more stories about Joel Miller than you had actually seen him in real life; only meeting him one other time in the entirety of the six years he’s been your dad’s best friend. But with no other family and no extra cash to pay for a tow…you prayed that maybe he’d find it in the kindness of his heart to come rescue little ole you.

Thankfully, your dad had given you his number in a “just in case”, if you ever needed it. Strange how for once your dad was right about something you had swore up and down would never happen. It almost made you smile— and you would if not given the predicament you were in right now.

For a moment, as you sit in your car, with your thumb slightly trembling as it hovers over Joel’s contact name, you silently pray that he’d pick up when a stranger was calling.

No more time to talk yourself out of it, you press on his name, watching your phone begin to ring at your request. You quickly tap the speaker button, hands clammy as you listen to the dial ring. Your heart is pounding in your chest for some odd reason as the line continues to ring and ring.

You’re just about to give up hope and hang up, so his voicemail doesn’t pick up for you instead, but suddenly you hear the line click and a deep southern voice echoes in from the otherside; “Yeah?”

You didn’t realize you had been holding your breath until you suddenly exhale a deep sigh upon hearing his voice. “Hey!” You blurt out. “You probably don’t have my number saved or anything like that but I’m the daughter of your friend!”

“Oh,” Joel starts and you can hear him rustling around, as if he’s putting down something he had been working on. “I remember ya. Somethin’ I can help you with sweetheart?” His voice drips with honey and confusion and you can’t blame him. But the tender way he mutters sweetheart has your fingers trembling just that much more.

“Yes, actually! I’m a little stranded at the moment. See my dad’s outta town for a business trip and my car has broken down so yeah…” You trail off, fiddling with the edge of your phone case while the words ‘I could use some help’ stick to the back of your throat.

“You need me to come get ya?” Joel’s warm voice breaks the silence, knowing exactly what you couldn’t say seconds before.

“I mean, that would be awesome if you could! But like, don’t worry about it if you’re busy! I could call a tow truck or something.” You ramble on. And for a second you think maybe you’ve lost service as he doesn’t say anything right away but as if he knows exactly what you’re thinking; he answers you.

“What road ya on?” Joel asks all soft like, while you can hear some more rustling in the background.

You glance at the maps on your phone before telling him the road you were on, fingers returning to fiddle with your phone case. “But like again, if you’re too far or busy I can just call a tow!” You mutter as the pit of your stomach does backflips. You’d really hate to inconvenience him but at the same time…with your father gone…and being in seemingly the middle of nowhere…you’d take your chances of annoying him just a little.

Joel laughs on the other end and it sends a warmth that rivals the summer heat through your entire body. You catch the faint sound of keys jingling on his end before he responds. “No worries hun. I’ll be there in twenty minutes or so.”

And with that, Joel says his goodbye and the call ends.

“That went…surprisingly well.” You mutter to yourself as you stretch out along your driver seat. Might as well get comfy while you wait.

Just as promised, Joel shows up about twenty-five minutes later. He parks an older farm truck right behind you that squeaks as the door opens with his exit. You get out of your own car to greet him and you hate how your stomach returns to doing flips but for an entirely different reason.

Why couldn’t you remember him being so fucking handsome before? His tan skin, the salt and pepper of his hair, the stubble of his jaw. He was broad to say the least; his shoulders and chest wide, and he carried himself like a man in charge. You expect a man as toned and well muscled to be a little mean…but then he smiles upon seeing you and all your fears melt away.

“Howdy,” Joel calls, nice and easy like the breeze, making his way to you.

You simply nod your head in response, unable to find the words to speak, as he stops in front of you. Your eyes lift just ever so slightly to look up into his eyes and fuck, they had no right to be so pretty shining in the sun like that.

“Pop the hood for me? Let me see if these old hands can’t figure out what’s gotcha parked here.” Joel light heartedly says. And for some odd reason…you knew that if he asked you for anything in that sweet drawl of his, you’d do it in a heartbeat.

You ease back into the driver seat of your car, reaching for the little latch that would pop the hood open. At the click, Joel moves to the front of your car while you debate sitting there, waiting to be told what to do. In the end your curiosity gets the better of you as you exit your car again. You move to the front end alongside him, staring at a mass of smooth and twisted metal underneath…not understanding a single thing as you look down at it.

Joel must see the confusion in your gaze and it makes him laugh just a little. “S’aright hun. You ain’t gotta worry about tryin’ to figure it out.” He hums as his hand reaches forward, twisting off a cap you don’t know the name of. “Unless you wanna?” He teases as he retrieves a long, metal like wand from the depths of the engine.

You laugh along with him, shaking your head at his question. “No thank you. Maybe next time.” You respond in a light tune, continuing to watch him as he works.

But you can’t help staring at something other than the engine he works on.

Your eyes graze over the strength of his tan forearms. Noticing right away the scars that linger along his weathered skin. But what you really wanted to see was the muscle of his bicep— hidden underneath that damn teasing denim shirt of his. Wanted so desperately to watch him stretch and his muscles flex as he moved about while working on your car.

Your eyes trail down the rest of his body, where your attention is immediately drawn to his back. Your eyes fixate directly at the point of where his shirt meets his jeans, watching as his shirt lifts with every stretch he makes across the engine. It lifts just enough away from his jeans to allow you to see a little bit of exposed skin underneath it. His sun-kissed skin trailed all the way down his back and the idea of touching his warm body made your fingers twitch.

“Well your oil is fine but it seems like your radiator cap is split.” Joel says. His words immediately pull you from your thoughts and you jump a little; startled as if maybe Joel could hear exactly what you were thinking…thankfully, he couldn’t.

“Not good, I’m assuming?” You ask with a clear of your throat, desperately hoping your thoughts would return to normal with it.

Joel chuckles a little and shakes his head as he leans back and away from your engine. He wipes his hands across his jeans and you've never thought about how sexy a man could look dirty and disheveled like Joel does right then and there.

“No good ‘til ya get it fixed at least.” Joel hums and gestures for you to step back just a little, before he lets your car hood slam shut to lock it. “It’ll keep overheating like it is now but…” Joel trails off until he comes to stand in front of you— and you swear he’s close enough that he can hear how hard your heart is beating inside your ribcage. “If you keep it slow, ya could follow me back home. I might be able to fix it long enough for ya to get back to your place.”

You swallow a lump in your throat and nod to his solution, you weren’t coming up with anything better anyway. Plus, it got you a little more time with him. Little weird that you wanted to spend more time with a ‘stranger’ twice your age— who you just thought about touching in a…not so friendly way— but you weren’t about to pass up the opportunity to get to know him just a little better.

“Yeah, that sounds fine. Thank you so much.” You respond with a smile.

Joel smiles right back at you before one of his large hands reaches out and grabs your shoulder, giving you a squeeze. “Don’t worry ‘bout it sweetheart.” He says in a light tone, hand sliding just a little inwards along your skin; where he gently rubs a circle into the back of your neck, ever so slightly, before he snatches his hand away. Moving on like nothing happened. As if…his intrusive thoughts had won him over for a split second, before he turns on his heel to open the driver door for you.

Your entire body hums with a newfound feeling you’re not quite sure what to call yet. You float into the driver’s seat, putting your seatbelt on, while Joel motions for you to roll your windows down and you do; rolling all four of them down in somewhat of a panic after misclicking the first time in your jittery state.

Joel settles onto the ledge of your window, up close and personal enough that you could see the scars on his face.

Oh how you wished his eyes would look at your lips and give you a reason to kiss him, right then and there. And god did he look good leaning over to you like that too; like he wanted it just as badly as you suddenly did.

“‘Member, slow and steady,” He breathes and you can almost feel the flutter of his breath across your cheek. “If you see this needle get close or even above this red line right here, pull over and turn the car off a'ight?” He adds, pointing to a needle on your dash.

You nod slightly, fingers twitching at the thought of breaking down in an even worse spot than you already were. And Joel sees that little flicker of worry cross your face before you can hide it and he chuckles.

“Don’t worry yer’little head off, darlin’. I’ll lead. Be just right in front of ya, and all ya gotta do is follow me, okay?” He hums, tapping the edge of your window with every word, before he pushes himself upright and makes his way back to his truck.

You watch as he leaves you, getting up into the driver seat of his own truck without another word. And suddenly you’re gripping the steering wheel for dear life.

What were you doing? What were you thinking? Nothing appropriate to say the least. Images of him muttering that sweet nickname against your lips plays in the back of your mind like a damn movie. You definitely were reading too much into his body language and the way he rolled that darling off his tongue….he was just being nice and helping out a friend's daughter…that was it. You needed to focus.

You let out a shaky breath, you once again had no idea you were holding, gaze shifting to watch his truck pull off into the road and you pull your car into follow suit behind him. Traveling slowly like he had told you to do so, eyes darting between the back of his pickup truck and your dashboard; watching that little needle he had pointed out to you for any kind of changes.

After all of this, you’d definitely have to repay him somehow. Would have to ask him what you could do to return the favor of him coming to the rescue of a stranger. Could buy him dinner? That wouldn’t be too much money outside of your budget. Or buy him some beer or whiskey as thanks; he definitely looked like he enjoyed a good alcohol here and there.

Then a terrible, terrible, idea pops into your head. It was certainly a gamble; he was older, a friend of your dad’s, and probably did not see you in that light at all…but…it was a risk worth taking.

Besides, you could always flee Texas and never come back if things went really badly.

When the two of you managed to finally arrive at his home, without your car breaking down again along the way, thankfully, you half expected him to live in something…strange to say the least. He was a man you didn’t know, a stranger to you as much as you were to him, and showing up to his house was more than a little odd.

But as you pull up into the long driveway behind him, you realize exactly why your dad was friends with him. He lived relatively secluded, no neighbors, in a gorgeous two-story farmhouse. A large barn sits at the edge of a fence line and beyond is just a beautiful field accompanied by a handful of animals; cows, sheep, and a couple of horses lazing about. You sit in awe for just a moment, taking in the scenery before you, until the brake lights of Joel’s truck flash you back to reality and you come to a full stop behind him.

Such a big house for one man…or so you had hoped for. Suddenly you remember your father mentioning Joel’s daughter…would she be here too? What kind of person would you be contemplating…”payment” for Joel around his daughter? Shame settles in your stomach but you smother the feeling as you watch Joel slide out of his truck once more. He motions for you to pull around him and into his garage at the side of the house and do as he says.

As soon as you shut the car off and go to open your door, Joel is already there at your side. A small, welcoming smile is settled on his face as he holds your driver side door open for you.

You utter a small thanks before stepping out of your car. You don’t have a moment to really look at everything inside his garage before Joel is heading towards a door you assume leads to the inside of his house.

“Let’s go inside for a moment. Grab a drink and cool off and then figure out what’s goin’ on.” He hums as his hand settles on the doorknob.

You nod, quickly catching up to him. Your heart pounds inside your ribcage again but you swear it’s going to explode when Joel swings the door inwards, allowing you into his home, but it’s the hover of his hand along your back that causes your heart to pump three times as hard. Tingles seep into every inch of your body but his hand is warm and strong as it just barely touches your back.

Like he’s just trying to be helpful, that’s what he’s telling himself, but he’s tempted by other thoughts— where he wants to lay the full weight of his hand along your back and guide you to wherever he may want you.

But just as quickly as it comes, it goes. Like an afterthought that never happened.

You move into his home, gaze shifting over the layout of the kitchen you step into. From just a brief glance, you can tell the inside of his house was just as gorgeous as the outside was. Simple, a little vintage, but definitely something you could see a man like Joel living in.

“Can I get’cha a drink?” Joel asks as he walks up to his fridge, opening it with an easy throw. “There’s some juice. Or if you prefer, I have diet soda. Sarah says it’s better for my health.” He jokes as he rummages inside the cool fridge. You could practically hear his eyes rolling and it settles the tension in your shoulders.

“Some water will be fine,” You hum in response, standing awkwardly beside the kitchen island, your fingers running along the counter. “How is Sarah, by the way?” You ask as your eyes settle onto a nearby picture frame of Joel and his daughter. “I’ve only heard about her in passing from my dad…when he was talking about you.”

“Oh?” Joel chuckles somewhere behind you. “I hope only the good things are told.”

You smile at his words, stopping at the edge of the kitchen island.

Not prepared in the slightest as the tips of his fingers press into the back of your arm; causing you to jump at his touch and swivel on your heel to face him. And he’s close…closer than before. If you moved in anyway, you’re sure your chest would run right into his own.

Your breath catches in your throat and you drag your gaze up into his. You freeze in the spot, waiting for something…anything to happen. Waiting for him to make a move, either away from you or to sweep you into his embrace but he does neither; he freezes just as much as you do. Tension swirls around the room like a hot summer’s wind, brewing up a storm, making everything just a little too sticky and your palms sweaty.

But just like a tornado, the tension comes and goes, leaving everything in place except for the feeling of ‘holy shit’.

“Your water, sweetheart.” Joel finally mutters, taking his slight step back and offering you up the water he had fetched out, breaking the tension that had built up seconds ago.

You take the glass of water out of his hand with a slight tremble to your fingers but you hold it nonetheless, continuing to stand still as he pulls away. He clears his throat as he retreats, putting space between the two of you once more.

“But yeah, um, Sarah’s good. Married, no kids yet but maybe one day.” Joel says through another clear of his throat, trying to will away whatever that feeling of “holy shit” was from before. He turns away from you once more, rubbing a hand against the back of his neck.

And from your position, you can see the tips of his ears flushed a soft red. It makes you shudder at the thought of him blushing around you like some lovesick man.

You take a sip of your water and it tastes stale compared to the want you have for the older man. You clear your own throat to try and refocus, nodding to his statement about his daughter.

At least it was somewhat comforting to know that, after what just happened, his daughter wasn’t going to come racing through the front door and watch her dad hit on someone younger or the same age as her.

“And no Mrs. Miller?” You blurt out before you can even think about what you’re saying. Certainly pushing the boundaries now. Your dad had never spoken about Joel having a wife before but it never hurt to ask…especially after what just happened. “Sorry that’s inappropriate, right?” You embarrassingly mutter, even if it was the right thing to ask after the two of you just got done dry humping each other with your eyes.

Joel chuckles slightly at your question, shaking his head as he eases back into ‘mr. calm and collected’. “S’alright. But yes, once. A long time ago. I’ve been divorced ever since.” He responds but says nothing more as he sets down his own preferred drink on the counter. “It’s just lil ole me and Sarah.” Joel adds; letting you in on his quiet life just a little more.

You want to tell him how much you’re glad it’s just him. How you’ve been wanting just him since he stepped out of his truck back on the road.

“And you? No partner waitin’ at home for ya?” Joel asks quietly, as if he’s unsure if he really should be asking the question or not; but curiosity is getting the better of the old man.

You laugh a little at his question, an easy smile sitting on your lips. “Nope. Suppose I wouldn’t be here if I did.”

“Hmm,” Joel ponders. “Suppose not. But I doubt you’d wanna be stuck here with an old man like me if ya didn’t have to.”

“Good thing you don’t know me too well then,” You chime, tucking a few strands of loose hair behind your ear, glancing away from him as you ramble on about how much you are actually happy to be there, with him.

When you lift your eyes back to him, you stare right into his warm gaze. “I’m…enjoying this.” You admit finally with a shaky exhale. And if this wasn’t the moment that would set the nail into the head of: “do I need to flee the state or is this okay?” then you weren’t sure when it would happen.

Joel’s eyes crinkle just ever so slightly and so quickly, that for a second you think you've almost imagined it. And you can’t tell if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. He nods just a little, as if he’s almost speechless, clearing his throat to once again shake off the tension that has built up.

Returning back to reality, he takes a sip off his drink and settles against one of the many kitchen cabinets, swirling the liquid around in his glass. “So, your dad didn’t teach you anything about cars?”

You laugh, shaking your head as you join him in leaning against the island counter. “You’re surprised? He doesn’t know a damn thing about them either.” You huff softly.

“Mmm, true. I had to show him how to change a tire once.” Joel responds playfully, glancing in your direction.

“See!” You chuckle again, fiddling with the cup between your fingers. “Guess that’s why he told me to call you if I ever needed anything.”

That warm, fuzzy feeling floats over your entire body again; weighs on you like a thick blanket while Joel falls silent for a second.

God, how you wished you could hear what was going on in that head of his.

Before he answers, he shoots back all of the dark liquor in his glass, needing it for whatever else may go on that day. “He was right. Call me for anything, ya may need sweetheart.” Joel whispers, low and slow, sending a cool spike down your spine.

You suck in a quiet breath while his words stick to you— like your thighs would stick to a leather seat after sitting down for too long. Your pulse throbs in your throat. Was he just confirming what your dad had told you to do; to call him whenever you may need it? Or were you reading too much into it all…just because your feelings for him were running a little too wild?

“So, thought ya didn’t live in Texas any more? Some fancy school or job, your dad mentioned one time or ‘nother.” Joel breaks through the silence you had left in the open, bringing you back to the moment with him.

You take another sip off your water before giving him a small nod. “Yep. Just came back to visit him. Bein’ a good daughter and all.”

“Hmm, a good daughter…” Joel mutters to himself and if you two weren’t so close, you probably wouldn’t have heard him. You can’t help but think what he could mean by that but you’re not going to bring it up…yet.

“Anyway, I’m only here for a few weeks, and of course on my vacation my car decides to break down. Just my luck huh,” You sigh. “And my budget doesn’t allow for car troubles so I’m really hoping you can fix it.”

“Budget?” Joel hums, glancing down at his empty glass, most likely debating to get another drink or not. “And you were gonna call a tow truck on a budget?” Joel says with that teasing tone of his.

“Well…yeah, I guess if I had to.” You respond with a shrug, smiling over at him.

Joel chuckles, his gaze casted into the depths of his glass as he fiddles with the cup while he speaks. “No doubt you could swindle your way outta some trouble if ya had to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You tease right back, taking the chance to inch closer to him.

Joel clears his throat, as if he hadn’t expected to say what he said in the first place and just got caught. Now he was struggling to come up with the words to justify exactly why he said what he said. “Uh, well ya know,” Joel starts, stopping in his search at the bottom of his glass, his summer gaze returning to look over at you. His eyes tenderly move along your body; following every curve and dip as if it were his fingers trailing your skin instead. It feels like an eternity, him just looking at you, but in reality it probably only lasts for a second too long. “Lookin’ all pretty like that. Just sayin’ you could get away with anything if ya wanted to hun.” He says, all hushed and soft.

A storm was absolutely brewing now and suddenly you’re glad to have worn that summer floral dress you had bought ages ago.

You wait for a heartbeat, his gaze still licking flames across your body, before you reach out to him with a gentle but firm hand. You press your fingers into his exposed forearm, making a little circle against his tan skin to mimic him from earlier.

And for some reason, you were far bolder than you had ever been in your life as you took another step closer to the older man, skimming your fingers further along his skin, batting pretty eyelashes in his direction.

“Anything?” You whisper, just loud enough for him and only him to hear. Didn’t matter if no one else was home, you wanted to make sure it was for him.

It was a good sign when he didn’t immediately jerk away or start yelling for you to get out. His breath catches in his throat this time and you watch as his chest begins to rise and fall as you stand dangerously close to him. Standing in the shadow of his frame, being almost swallowed up as he towers over you.

“Darlin’” Joel finally utters, glancing down his nose at you, his fingers twitching at his sides; as if he’s trying to hold himself back from embracing you. “You know that’s not a good idea.”

You shrug a little, pushing your fingers just underneath the curl of his shirt sleeve, touching the very beginning to the thick of his bicep. “Why not? It’s just us.”

“You know why,” Joel protests softly. “I’m twice your age. And I’m your father’s friend.”

“And yet…you’re not moving away,” You whisper, making it a point to squeeze his bicep. Your eyes trail from his gaze to the plump of his lips, lingering just long enough for him to notice, before you glance all the way back up to his eyes. “Let me repay you for coming to my rescue.”

He doesn’t speak, having been caught and now his argument was quickly crumbling into almost nothing.

To give him a little encouragement, your fingers trail back down to his wrist and you guide his hand to the edge of your skirt, pushing his fingers just slightly under your dress and against the thick of your thigh. “C’mon…Joel.” You hum his name all sweet like honey and it finally breaks him.

“Fuck,” Joel curses under his breath as he sweeps you up. The hand on your thigh opens up and curls around you, dragging you into the front of his chest. His other hand settles against the curve of your neck as he comes crashing down onto you like a wave.

He presses his lips into yours in a hot and heavy kiss. His tongue is already darting along the thick of your bottom lip– desperate and needy— just like you’ve been since the second you saw him bent over your car.

“Dammit, you…” Joel pants against your lips. “I was tryin’ so hard…” He groans, lifting your hips into his own with his single hand. “You and that damn dress and the way you stare at me, Christ.” Joel fumbles, shifting his hand along your body. His hand grabbing your ass in a tight grip, his calm and collected self long, long gone now. He squeezes your ass, eating up the moan that tumbles from your lips into his. “Wanna hear that pretty little voice callin’ my damn name s’more.”

“Joel.” You breathe his name and it makes him groan again. It’s deep and raspy, sends a vibration to the very tips of your fingers.

His knee bumps into yours, knocking your legs to part to allow him space between your thighs. The flat of his thigh presses right into the spot where you’re quickly coming to yearn for him. You grind into the thick of his thigh, mewling into the softness of his mouth. You were already far too needy, dripping through your underwear and smearing against his jeans.

Joel groans at the increasing wetness slicking his thigh and his fingers grip just a little harder along your skin. His teeth grab hold of your bottom lip, gently pulling on the plumpness, before his tongue is replacing his teeth with a wet swipe.

“Taste s’good sweetheart.” He whispers with a chuckle. “Been wantin’ this all damn day.”

You shudder at his words— at least it was comforting to know that since he showed up in the middle of nowhere to save you; you weren’t the only one looking at him in a new light.

You needed more than just a little dry humping and hot make out session to be satisfied though— especially concerning the risk of…everything. Your fingers once gripping onto the thick of his biceps trail down to the front of his pants, fiddling with his belt.

But his own hand quickly grabs your wrist the second you attempt to undo his belt.

Startled, Joel breaks the kiss, panting roughly while his gaze settles onto your flushed face. “We shouldn’t.” Joel mumbles, shaking his head just a little. Trying to talk the both of you out of doing something that could potentially ruin a lot of things. Kissing could be excused but anything else after was not so easily explained or forgiven. “I shouldn’t. You shouldn’t…not with an old man like me.” Joel counters through clenched teeth.

“Joel,” You softly utter his name like a prayer. “I want you so fucking bad right now, I don’t care. And I know it’s not just me.”

“This is a bad idea…” Joel groans as he stares down at you; his composure slowly coming undone once again as his grip around your wrist is slowly loosening up.

Funny how you had told yourself that exact same thing too. But now you really didn’t care; no obstacle could get in your way when your cunt was throbbing his name. “Slow and steady…” You whisper his earlier words back to him. “You lead, remember? I’ll do what you say Joel…”

Joel hesitates, clearly battling his inner thoughts. He could have you, right then and there– in all his desperation, need, and desire pent up for you. But he was your dad’s friend and if he ever found out…it would end far too many good relationships.

“Just…a little more.” Joel finally huffs, crumbling like sand as his lips return back to yours in a last-ditch effort to calm all of his worrying thoughts. And it helps when you melt right back into the kiss.

Your fingers return to fidgeting with his belt buckle, trying to strip him as quickly as you possibly could just in case he changed his mind. Your hips moving faster, grinding heavier against his thigh. His name tastes sweet as it rolls off your tongue as you manage to undo that damned buckle. Your fingers work wonder’s undoing the rest of his jeans. Fingers flicking the button open and the zipper comes down with just a small tug of his jeans. But your fingers don’t stop in the slightest as they seek out what you’re really after.

Joel helps ever so slightly, shimming his jeans down to his thighs, giving you the room to shove his underwear down and finally set him free.

You immediately wrap a hand around his hardened shaft. Fingers brushing up along to the very tip and you tremble at how wet he is. Leaking across the flat of your thumb with just a single touch.

Joel deeply groans, breaking the kiss again and glancing down to watch your hand stroke him. Cursing himself inside his mind for being so pathetic and hard with just a little bit of touching and a few kisses— acting as if he was a fresh twenty year old about to get laid for the first time, all over again.

“Just a little…” Joel whispers, mostly to himself, continuing to try and convince himself that it was all going to be alright if it was just a little at a time.

Your hand continues to sweep across the entire curve of his throbbing cock, squirming a little under his watchful gaze.

“Joel,” You whine his name, grinding harshly into his thigh again. You were soaking now; smearing across his jeans, leaving behind a desperate trail of need.

“S’alright baby, I gotcha,” Joel responds softly, picking up your needy little tone. His fingers slip from beneath your dress, just to grab the hem of the fabric, yanking the skirt up high. You scramble with your free hand to grab your dress, keeping it up high for him so his own fingers can work on pleasing you.

Thick digits slide down against the seam of your soaked panties and above the pleasure ringing in your ears, you can hear Joel chuckle at your apparent neediness.

“Fuckin’ soaked baby,” Joel hums, swiping his fingers against your core once more. “This wet for an old man like me?” He adds before he yanks your underwear to the side.

Calloused fingers travel through your slick folds, his fingers circling around the sensitive nub. Joel chuckles again at the whine that you try to hold back before he’s pressing a thick digit inside your velvet walls.

You gasp his name, quick and harsh as he begins to thrust into the slickness of your cunt. Your hand moves faster along his shaft, trying to keep up with his pace as he fingers you. Your legs open just a little wider on instinct, allowing him more space between.

His fingers plummet into the seam of your cunt, rapid and a little sloppy but it gets the job done more than effectively. The lewd noises echoing inside the room from the slick of his fingers pumping in and out of you, normally would leave you an embarrassed mess but with a single curl of his finger, those thoughts immediately are swept away.

His pace quickens and before you have time to react, he’s adding a second finger into the depths of your pussy; stretching you out, guiding you to a close, burning ledge.

“Shit, Joel!” You sob, open mouth, tears flicking to the corners of your eyes. Your hand stutters but Joel doesn’t mind, his hips thrust forward, grinding the full weight of himself into your grasp.

Even in your haze you manage to shift your hand to point him directly where his fingers disappear inside your seam. “Want you right here, Joel, please. Please, I need it.” You cry, nudging the tip of his cock into your clit.

Joel growls, deep from within his chest, like a wild animal claiming its prey. His hips stutter just a little, pressing heavier into your clit. But he shakes his head, gritting his teeth.

“No. No, that’s…off limits,” He groans even as he continues to nudge his head into your cunt.

“Joel,” You whine but Joel shakes his head, curling his fingers inside to send a strike of lightning along your spine.

“No. Not this time baby,” Joel coos in a soft, luring voice. Trying to tell himself more than he was warning you.

“Just, ah, the tip then please, please.” You whine, clenching around his fingers still stuffing inside your core. “Please. Just wanna feel you, just enough.” You pathetically beg. His fingers weren’t enough, even just a little bit of his thick head pressing inside you would solve all your problems.

It’s Joel’s turn to softly whimper after you speak. “The tip,” He repeats, tasting your words on his tongue. “Just the tip.” He says again, finally deciding that just a little bit more was enough. His thick fingers slip out from your inner walls and you feel empty without him. As if your body had been made to fit just him and him alone; and with how fast your head was spinning, you didn’t doubt it for a second.

You nod frantically as he accepts just using the tip of his head. You grab hold of his shoulder and squeeze it tight, preparing for what comes next.

Joel takes his hand covered in your slick and wraps it around the base of his shaft. His fingers tangle and nudge against yours; and together you move over his entire cock, coating all of him in the remaining wetness on his fingers.

He takes a smaller step into you, close enough to smother you entirely. He slots himself right into the slit of your cunt, dragging every inch of his shaft through your soaking wet folds.

You shiver as he drags himself against you, gripping his shoulder just a little tighter as a mind numbing wave of pleasure races through you. You angle your head ever so slightly to kiss up along his neck, panting against his skin with every kiss you try to place.

“Fuck…you’re droolin’ all over me sweetheart.” Joel groans, thrusting his hips forward again. He stares where the two of you connect, pupils blown and mouth slightly agape as he watches with awe how he disappears between you. The hand not guiding his cock against you hooks around the crook of your knee, bringing your hips into his. Joel opens your legs and in one fell swoop he slips inside your sloppy seam; and as promised, just the tip.

When he presses the tip finally inside of you, it knocks the breath out of your lungs. You gasp for air, digging your nails into the thick of his shoulder. His name bubbles up into your throat but it never leaves your lips. Your thighs tremble just as much as your bottom lip does with his entrance into your aching cunt.

Joel’s grip on your knee is sure to leave bruises but god if he asked, you’d tattoo them on your body. To remind him, and only him, that you belonged to him.

His entire body shakes as he forces himself to remain totally still. He grunts through clenched teeth as he wills himself not to move further inside you; no matter how badly he wants to slam his hips forward with the way you suck so eagerly on just his tip— he refuses to do so. And it takes every ounce of his willpower not to thrust forward.

“Fuck,” Joel growls under his breath. “‘S tight. You’re so tight, baby.” He adds with a slight whimper to his voice, eyes still heavily staring where the two of you connect. Hips sliding back, dragging the length of his cock out, before digging forward again.

You don’t answer, can’t answer; all you can think of is how fucking good he’s making you feel, even with just the tip.

When he finally sets a good pace, his thrusts are sharp but shallow and not near enough to truly satisfy every inch of your needy core but you’ll take it…until next time. Next time, he’s fucking you into the goddamn mattress until you pass out.

You try your best to move your hips in sync with his shallow thrusts but Joel quickly shuts that down with his hand moving to grip your hip. When you manage to look up at him, he just weakly shakes his head a little.

“No.” He mutters, sweat dripping off the high of his eyebrow. “If you move like that I’ll want more than this…” He admits with a flutter to his eyes.

You groan but nod nonetheless. “Next time.” You huff with a hoarse voice.

Joel chuckles a little and nods right back at you, placing a kiss on your forehead. “Next time.” He mimics before returning to dig into your core. Your dress bunches under his grasp and he uses it just a little bit to keep himself grounded and you from moving.

Your body is raging like a storm beneath your skin with how quick your orgasm is rising to greet you. And you’re almost sure if he fully pressed his cock into every inch of your sensitive pussy right then and there, you’d make the worst mess. You’d soak your dress and every inch of his jeans and boots. And while you want him so badly all the way, deep inside, kissing your womb– you’re a little thankful he wasn’t. Didn’t want to embarrass yourself too badly, this time anyway.

“Joel,” You utter, stars blossoming across your vision with your impending orgasm burning inside your lower tummy.

“Shh, I know darlin’.” Joel hums back. He doesn’t have to say anything about his own orgasm with the way his cockhead is beginning to swell inside of you.

For a split second you almost want to beg him to cum inside, wanting to feel him warm and deep inside every inch of your trembling walls but you could already guess what the answer to that was going to be, so you keep your lips sealed.

Your mind turns fuzzy as his shallow thrust turns chaotic and ruthless, stretching you with every drag. Your knees feel like they’re about to buckle and break but his strong hands hold you up anyway. He wanted you to finish, wanted to feel you clench and flutter around his tip while he considered turning you around, bending you over and really getting the chance to stretch you out.

“Baby girl,” Joel drawls, low and slow, pressing kiss after kiss into the crown of your head. His chest rises and falls with every rapid breath he sucks between his teeth. “Drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy…not gonna last. Want you to come for darlin’, all over my cock, can you do that baby?”

He doesn’t even have to ask twice. You can no longer find your voice to form any other word besides “please” as the heat of your womb blossoms. The warmth explodes through every inch of your body. Your back arches with your orgasm, hips stuttering and if it wasn’t for Joel’s big hand on your hip, you might have swallowed him entirely by accident. Your chest presses directly up into his and you can taste the tip of his name coating your tongue as you come all across his cockhead.

He waits until you’re entirely spent before he allows himself to come as well. He lets go of your hip, grabbing the thick of his base once more, and drags himself out of your tight cunt at the last second before he smears his mark across you.

White, hot spurts of cum splash against your cunt with every stroke of his hand. With a deep groan, he presses his tip into your clit, leaving his mark right up against the curve of your pussy. His hand quickly moves along his entire shaft, pushing out every last drop of his cum into the slit of your quivering pussy. Your name is whispered so softly in time with every jerk of his hand, it leaves you lightheaded and whimpering for Joel.

When he’s finished, his own damn head is spinning. He’s out of breath, staring at the mess he’s made with half lidded eyes. He swipes his thumb through the stain he’s made, chuckling quietly at how much sticks to your skin.

“Damn sweetheart,” Joel hums in approval, shivering at the sight of you covered in his mark. “You got so much outta me darlin’, like I’m fuckin’ in my twenties again.”

You’re slowly coming down from your high when he speaks but his words make you laugh alongside him. You were no better than he was; that was one of the best orgasms you’d ever had in your life. The pleasure still pounding inside your ears like a second heartbeat.

“Yeah? Imagine what it’ll be like next time.” You whisper, letting your full body weight fall back onto the kitchen counter he had previously backed you up into.

Joel quiets then, letting silence stretch between the two of you like a dry, humid summer. You can’t read his gaze and with the silence accompanying him, you’re not sure you want to read it anyway. But it’s gone quickly and he returns to that softness you’ve seen all day long.

“Next time?” Joel hums, threading his fingers through your sticky cunt. “Next time, you’re not even gonna be able to fuckin’ walk, sweetheart.”

@ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐙𝐄𝐕𝐑𝐑𝐀 | 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖/𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

@lowrisemiller

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mrsfancyferrari · 6 months ago

Note

Can you do an imagine about the reader going out with an F1 driver (I imagine Charles or Carlos), where the reader speaks their language, but doesn’t tell them. One day they walk in on the reader talking to someone on the phone in French/ Italian or Spanish respectively, and have a talk about it. Reader was hiding their abilities due to an insecurity about their ability. Alternatively they could be at a restaurant, where the reader is forced to use that language to order something.

Speak Baby

Summary: you are going out with Charles, you can speak his language, but don't tell him. You were hiding your abilities due to an insecurity about your ability.

Song: Heaven and Back · Chase Atlantic

Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! Also please follow for more! 🫶

Word count: 3.7k

MASTERLIST - F1

The soft glow of the lamp painted the room in hues of amber and gold, the late afternoon sun already having dipped below the horizon.

You were curled up on the plush armchair, a worn copy of “Les Misérables” resting open in your lap, though your attention was entirely focused on the phone pressed to your ear. The French words flowed effortlessly, a melodic stream of conversation with your cousin, Élise, back in Paris.

Laughter bubbled in your chest as Élise recounted a particularly disastrous attempt to bake macarons, the familiar cadence of your mother tongue a soothing balm to your soul.

"…and then, the oven, mon Dieu, it was like a volcanic eruption of powdered sugar!" Élise’s voice, tinged with dramatic exasperation, crackled through the speaker.

You chuckled, a genuine, unrestrained sound, “You know you should just stick to painting, ma chérie. Baking is not for you.”

"Oh, very funny," she retorted good-naturedly, “But you should have seen it! The cat even had a dusting. Anyway, how is le charmant Charles?"

You paused, a smile playing on your lips. "He's…fine," you said, a soft giggle escaping your throat. "He's been working late again, as usual."

“And still no clue about your… little secret?" Élise teased, the question a whisper of anticipation.

"No," you replied, your voice dropping slightly, a hint of nervousness creeping in. "Absolutely not. It's…it's better this way, Élise. I’m not ready."

You knew that you were holding out on Charles, but the thought of him judging you for your French was an insecurity that had been haunting you for years.

You had always felt like you were not good enough, that your accent was too strong and that your grasp on the language was not as good as it should be, even though you grew up with it.

You always felt the need to hide, to not draw attention to yourself, and so this was how it was with Charles.

It was easier to communicate in English with him, to be safe, even if your heart yearned to speak in the language that made you, you.

"You're being silly, ma belle. He'd be enchanted, I'm sure of it," Élise said, her tone gentle, trying to reassure you.

Just as you were about to respond, a distinct sound reached your ears - the click of the front door. Your heart leaped into your throat. Charles was home.

Panic seized you, and you quickly pressed the “end call” button, the dial tone a sharp, jarring contrast to the lilting French you had been immersed in moments before. You closed the “Les Miserables” book with an audible thud, feigning a casual air.

You straightened yourself in the armchair and tried to look as though you were simply relaxing, a wave of frustration beginning to wash over you for not being able to share this part of yourself with Charles, but also relief because you almost got caught.

"Hey," Charles said, his voice laced with that endearing weariness you had come to adore, as he walked into the room, tossing his keys onto the side table.

He hadn't noticed the phone in your hands and he pulled off his suit jacket and hung it up on the hanger behind the door. He looked exhausted. "Long day."

"Hi," you replied, your voice a little too high-pitched, betraying the sudden jolt of adrenaline still coursing through you.

You tried to act as nonchalant as possible, hoping he wouldn't notice the flush creeping up your neck, or the way your fingers were still tensed against the phone.

He glanced at you, his blue eyes, usually so bright, clouded with fatigue. "Everything alright? You seem…tense." He took a seat on the sofa opposite you, his gaze intense as he looked at you.

You had been with Charles for a year now, and he was always able to suss something out.

You forced a smile, "Just had a long chapter to read, that's all.” You showed him the book, hoping it would be enough distraction. “It’s quite intense, actually." You pointed to the book, gesturing with your hand. "This guy Valjean, he's been through it."

He seemed to accept your explanation, dropping back against the sofa cushions with a sigh. "Well, whatever it is, you should relax. Maybe we could order some food? I'm starving."

You nodded, relieved. The moment had passed, but the unspoken secret hung heavy in the air between you. The rest of the evening unfolded in its usual way, a comfortable rhythm you both had established.

You talked about your day, laughed at a silly movie, and shared a meal under the soft lamplight. Yet, beneath the surface of normalcy, the secret you harboured continued to prick at you.

He kept stealing glances at you, making you wonder if he might suspect something, but he never said anything.

“So you’re telling me he still hasn’t found out yet?” She asked with a teasing lilt in her voice.

“No, and I’ll keep it that way,” you replied, your smile fading. “It’s too risky, Élise. What if he thinks I’m a fraud? What if he thinks I’ve been lying?”

“Oh, come on,” Élise scoffed, “He’s clearly smitten with you, mon amie. I can hear it in your voice!”

You sighed, staring out the window at the grey sky. “You don’t know him, Élise. His native language is French, he knows it like the back of his hand. He’d notice if my French isn’t perfect.”

“And what if it is?” Élise countered.

You were about to reply, when you heard his voice from the kitchen. You jerked, your heart leaping into your throat. “I have to go, Élise. I’ll call you later.”

“Okay, bisous,” Élise said, and the line went dead.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The roar of the Ferrari engines was a constant hum, a background score to the chaotic elegance of the Formula One paddock. You watched Charles, a whirlwind of charm and practiced ease, navigate the PR games with Carlos Sainz.

They were a study in contrasts – Charles, all focused energy and effortless smiles, and Carlos, a more grounded, almost playful foil. You knew this dance well, the mandatory media obligations that came with the territory of being a Ferrari driver.

You were happy to be a spectator today. You knew, with a familiar twist of warmth in your chest, that Charles would find you later.

You had a few hours of freedom, a rare commodity in this world of tight schedules and constant movement. You decided to explore. The paddock was a labyrinth of team trucks, hospitality suites, and workshops, a microcosm of the competitive energy that fueled the sport.

You wandered, absorbing the sights and sounds, the clatter of tools, the clipped conversations in a dozen different languages. You’d always been drawn to the undercurrents of these places, the human stories unfolding beneath the glossy veneer of glamour and speed.

That's when you heard it – a voice, high-pitched with panic, cutting through the general noise.

"Est-ce que quelqu'un parle français?" it called out, the words sharp and rushed. " S'il vous plaît, quelqu'un ?" Does anyone speak French? Please, someone?

The man, standing near a catering area, was clearly distressed. He was middle-aged, his face flushed, hands trembling slightly as he gestured erratically. A small crowd of staff had gathered around him, their faces a mixture of concern and helplessness.

They spoke encouragingly in English, but it was clear that they didn’t understand a word he was saying, which was why he was getting more frantic.

You hesitated. You knew French, fluently after all. It really was an insecurity you'd carried since childhood, a fear that your accent wasn't good enough, that you wouldn't be considered “truly” French.

Charles, in his easy, casual fluency, only amplified that feeling. It was easier to let him be the French one, to navigate that world without your input.

But looking at the man, his distress growing with each passing second, your resolve crumbled. You couldn't stand by and watch him suffer.

Taking a deep breath, you pushed past the people, your voice hesitant but clear, "Excusez-moi, monsieur. Je parle français. Qu'est-ce qui se passe?" Excuse me, sir. I speak French. What's going on?

The man's eyes widened, his face flooded with relief. "Ah, merci mon Dieu!" he exclaimed, his hands coming to clasp yours. "C'est terrible! J'ai perdu mon sac, avec tous mes documents et mes clés. Je dois partir cet après-midi, et je suis complètement coincé."

His words tumbled out in a rush, a torrent of worries and anxieties. This is terrible! I lost my bag, with all my documents and my keys. I have to leave this afternoon, and I'm completely stuck

You listened patiently, your own French flowing effortlessly as you reassured him. You asked him for details about the bag, about where he’d last seen it.

You found out that he was here for a family visit, and he had to catch a train in the next couple of hours. With a mixture of calm questioning and reassuring words, you helped him retrace his steps.

You spoke softly, your voice a calming balm to his panic. The staff around you, previously frustrated, looked on with a mixture of curiosity and gratitude.

You felt a small spark of pride, a quiet satisfaction in using the skill that you have always kept hidden.

After what felt like an eternity, you spotted it – a small black bag tucked behind a stack of boxes in a corner. The man let out a cry of delight, his face cracking into a wide, genuine smile. "Merci, merci mille fois!" he cried, taking the bag and beaming at you. "Vous êtes un ange!" Thank you, thank you a thousand times! You are an angel!

You helped him check through the contents, making sure nothing was missing. You even offered him some water and a seat to calm him. He thanked you profusely again and again. He finally started to relax and calm down.

"Thank you so much. I don't know what I would have done without you." he said again, this time speaking English clearly, even though he had not, before. He smiled warmly at you.

"It's no problem," you replied, smiling back. A small voice interrupted.

"Hey babe, what's going on here? I saw this crowd?" Charles asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. He placed a hand on the small of your back.

"This gentleman lost his bag, and couldn't communicate with anyone here. I was just helping him," you explained.

"Ah, but you were speaking French? I didn't know that you spoke French. Good job ma chérie," Charles said a little surprised.

"Oh, I... I learned some in school," you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. You felt a flush creep onto your cheeks.

You could feel the lie hanging in the air, heavy and uncomfortable.

Charles tilted his head, his eyes searching your face, "That’s really cool." He turned his attention to the man, addressing him in perfect French.

You watched Charles smoothly reassure the man that everything was fine and offer him any help that he needed. The man seemed mesmerized by Charles, thanking him profusely.

You watched them briefly, the ease with which Charles switched between two languages, how comfortable he was in the role of translator. It was a stark contrast to your feelings of self-consciousness.

“So, should we get going?” Charles said to you, turning to you, his hand finding yours.

You nodded, a smile tugging at your lips. You’d helped someone out, and it felt good. But the lie, that little secret you still held, bothered you. More so than usual now that he knew.

As Charles led you away, you could feel his gaze on you, a silent question in his eyes. You knew you couldn't keep this hidden much longer.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting long, dancing shadows across the Ferrari base. The air, still warm from the day’s heat, hummed with a quiet energy. You lay nestled in the hammock chair, Charles’s strong back providing a solid anchor as you sat comfortably on his lap.

The gentle rocking motion lulled you both, a peaceful rhythm that seemed to synchronize with the quiet whispers of the wind. You’d been dating Charles for a year now, and these quiet moments were your favorite.

Being alone, intertwined, was bliss.

He nuzzled his face into your shoulder, his breath warm on your skin. You closed your eyes, your own breathing slowing, the world fading away.

You’d almost drifted off, the line between sleep and wakefulness blurring, when a voice sliced through the tranquil silence.

“Monsieur Leclerc, le débriefing commence bientôt!” a young voice called out, the French words sharp and clear. Mr. Leclerc, the debriefing begins soon!

You blinked your eyes open, startled, and looked around for the source of the sound.

A young woman, her face etched with a mixture of frustration and relief, stood a short distance away. She was clearly a member of the Ferrari staff, her uniform a stark contrast to the relaxed atmosphere you and Charles had created.

“Mademoiselle, je vais bientôt réveiller Charles, alors ne vous inquiétez pas,” you said, the words flowing easily, a comfortingly familiar cadence in your mind. Miss, I'll wake Charles up soon, so don't worry.

You watched her face register surprise, then a wave of relief.

“Merci beaucoup mademoiselle Y/N, je vous laisse faire,” she replied, her voice softening. Thank you very much Miss Y/N, I'll leave you to it.

“De rien, je suis désolé de t'avoir fait le chercher,” you said, a slight blush creeping up your neck. You felt a pang of guilt for making her search for Charles. You're welcome, I'm sorry I made you look for it.

She gave you a small, thankful nod before turning and heading back towards the base.

You were about to nudge Charles awake when you felt a movement in your lap. His eyes, a startling shade of blue, were already fixed on you, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"That didn't sound like 'school French' ma chérie," he muttered, a playful yet probing tone to his voice. Your heart lurched, and a cold dread settled in your stomach.

You could feel your cheeks flush, the blood rushing to your head. This was it. Your little secret, the one you'd guarded for so long, was about to unravel.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, your voice coming out a little higher and breathier than you intended. You tried to play it off, hoping your denial would be convincing enough. "I learned some French phrases, that's all."

He raised a skeptical eyebrow, his gaze unwavering. "Some phrases? You just held an entire conversation with Nathalie, in perfect, effortless French. Where did you learn that?"

You fidgeted, your fingers toying with the drawstring of his sweatpants. "Uh...well...you know, it's just...I've always been a good language learner." The explanation sounded weak even to your own ears.

Charles gently tilted your chin up so that your eyes meet. His touch was soft, but his gaze was intense. “Y/N,” he said, his voice lower now. “You’re fluent. Why have you been hiding this from me?”

The question hung in the air, heavy with the weight of your unspoken secret. And you knew you couldn’t lie to him any longer. “It’s stupid, really,” you began, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I was always just…insecure about it. My native language is English, and I'm fairly average. When I started learning French, which was young, it just came naturally to me. I didn't think I was actually... good. I thought if I spoke it around you, you'd think I sound awful, like those tourists that always try and speak French to you.” You looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

He took your hands in his, his thumbs stroking your knuckles. “Ma chérie, that’s ridiculous. I’m fascinated by languages. I spent so much time learning other languages for the sport, plus how could I ever think you sound awful. You could never sound bad.”

His words were soothing, a balm to your wounded pride. You looked up, your eyes searching his face. “Really?” you whispered, still a little unsure.

He chuckled, a warm, comforting sound. “Bien sûr, Y/N. You’re amazing, in every language. And I am so incredibly curious. When did you learn it? How good are you even?” He had a teasing glint in his eyes now, and the tension that had been plaguing you started to dissipate.

“Since I was a kid. My grandmother was half-French and she taught me, always using French. She wanted me to have another language to use. She wanted me to have something special, so I never told anyone in school or anything.” you admitted.

“And you kept this hidden from me? For all this time?” Charles asked, a hint of playfulness in his voice.

You nodded sheepishly. “I thought you would think I was trying to show off, I guess, and I was honestly just scared I’d be awful.”

He squeezed your hands, his thumb drawing small circles on your skin. “You are far from awful, Y/N, and I promise I never would have thought that, ever. But,” he added, a mischievous smile playing on his lips, “I do have a few questions. And you're going to have to answer them… in French.”

“bébé, il faut que tu fasses le point avec l'équipe!” you said, the words slipping out naturally in French. Baby, you need to check in on the team!

Charles only grinned, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “I can’t believe you’ve been hiding this from me, ma chérie,” he said, his tone warm and affectionate and full of love.

“I know I’m so sorry.” you said, putting your head in your hands, feeling a flush of embarrassment wash over you. “I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, I was just so scared.”

He cupped your face in his hands, his thumb gently caressing your cheek. “Don’t be sorry, mon amour,” he murmured, his voice husky. “It’s incredibly endearing, and it's one more thing I love about you. You have to tell me everything though from now on okay?”

You nodded, leaning into his touch. “I promise.”

He smiled, then his eyes glinted with a new mischievousness. “So, you’ve been keeping secrets from me, have you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Only this one, I swear.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning in closer. “I think that deserves a punishment.”

“Oh yeah?” you said, raising an eyebrow, excitement coursing through you.

His lips found yours and he deepened the kiss, pushing you gently back on the hammock. The language barrier was forgotten as his hands moved to the hem of your shirt.

You could feel the passion in him, the soft moaning as he kissed your neck. You could feel yourself falling further and further into him, completely and utterly in love.

It was a long time before you pulled away for air, your cheeks flushed and your heart racing.

“What was I saying about meetings?” you breathlessly said, putting a hand on your chest, hoping your heart would slow down.

Charles chuckled, running his hand through his slightly dishevelled hair. “They can wait,” he murmured, his eyes locking with yours, “There’s something much more urgent that we need to deal with, my petite française.”

You laughed then, and pulled him in for another kiss, knowing that your hidden language was now just another way to connect with the man you loved.

The rain outside continued to fall, a soft and gentle melody to the start of another chapter in your love story.

And you knew, with absolute certainty, that this new language you had shared with each other would only bring you closer, in ways you could never have imagined. . . .

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dark-fics-4-you · 6 months ago

Text

Blue Christmas

dark!Rafe Cameron x f!Reader

Warnings: noncon (rape), p in v sex, kidnapping, murder, drugging, stalking, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, choking, unprotected sex, breeding kink, abusive behavior

A/N: this fic is directly inspired by the movie P2 (2007) but I changed a couple plot things to make it fit for Rafe. Hope you enjoy!

The click of your heels echoed throughout the large, empty parking garage. You let out a frigid puff of breath as you shivered, pulling your coat tighter around your shoulders as you looked for your car.

After the holiday party had died down, you had volunteered to stay late to finish up a report so you could have Christmas day off with your family. And now, a full hour and a half after everyone else left, you were finally about to be on your way home.

You reached into your purse to fish your keys out, clicking the unlock button to help you find your car.

Chirp chirp!

The sound came from the level above you and you let out a small groan as you began the walk up to the next level.

After spotting your car, you let yourself in, sliding into the seat and closing the door behind you.

You slid the key into the ignition and turned it, but instead of coming to life, your engine stuttered, refusing to start.

“Shit!” You cursed, slapping the steering wheel in frustration. “Fucking seriously?!”

All you wanted right now was to get home to see your family, but now it appeared your car might not even be leaving the garage.

You reached into your purse to pull your phone out, dialing your mom, but when no sound came over the speaker, you pulled the phone away from your ear to realize that you didn’t have any signal.

Realizing that your only options were to find the parking security guard or walking out into the cold air to get better signal, you decided that you needed to find the parking office.

However, before you could even open your door, you saw the lights on the opposite side of the garage begin to turn off, one by one, growing closer until you were swallowed by the darkness of the garage.

“I’m still in here!” You shouted, feeling freaked out by the dark.

But the sudden sharp knock against your window nearly stopped your heart.

A bright flashlight flicked on, pointed at your face like the person was trying to get a look at you.

He must have seen the fear in your eyes because the light lowered to the ground, revealing the parking security guard, and you let out a sigh of relief at the familiar face.

“Thank god it’s just you,” you joked nervously as you opened your car door to step out.

You looked up at the tall, blond man, remembering the many times he had let you in the parking garage or waved goodbye as you drove out. He was a shy and somewhat awkward guy, but he had been nice in all of your previous interactions.

Underneath the nerdy looking glasses, you might have even considered him handsome.

“I’m glad you’re still here so late, or I’d be in a lot of trouble,” you groaned, gesturing to your car. “It won’t start and I don’t have any signal in the garage.”

“Ah that h-happens here more than you’d think, I can help you out,” he grinned, taking a cursory glance at your car. “You could um- make a call from the office, if you wanted.”

“Oh that would be perfect! Thanks um… Ray?”

“Rafe,” he corrected you with a lopsided smile.

“Oh. Rafe, sorry,” you repeated. “My name is Y/N.”

“I know.”

“You do?” You tilted your head to the side in confusion as you looked up at him.

“You hand me your parking pass every day, remember? Everyone who works in the office does,” he smiled.

“Oh yeah, true,” you let out a small laugh.

“Did you enjoy th-the party?”

You blushed, smiling to yourself as you remembered your coworker, Jack, pulling you into one of the empty offices for a quick make out session. This was the first time the two of you had ever done something so risky at the office before, and it had been pretty thrilling.

“Yeah, it was nice. I’m ready to get home to my family though, they’re all waiting on me.”

“Then we better call you a taxi, huh?”

“Guess so.”

You followed him as he lead you to the parking office, and your eyes widened as you took in the sparkling Christmas lights that were wrapped around the small space.

“Did you do all of this decoration yourself, Rafe?”

“Uh yeah,” his lips curled into a shy smile and he scratched the back of his head nervously. “I don’t know, it just brightens the place up. Makes the job less depressing.”

“Oh yeah, I totally get it.” You sat down at the chair opposite from his desk, mindlessly glancing over at the monitor that was showing multiple grainy camera angles throughout the garage, cycling through all the cameras throughout the building.

You looked over at the corner of the office to see a large black dog curled up on a bed.

“So, here’s the office phone,” he passed the landline to you. “I’m gonna step out for a quick smoke, you can uh, call your family or a cab, or um whatever you need to do. I’ll be b-back in a couple minutes.”

“Okay! Thank you so much for your help!” You smiled, waving as he stepped out the front door of the office.

You dialed your mom’s number, holding the phone to your ear as you waited for her to pick up.

“Hello?” You could barely hear your mother’s voice over the sounds of children playing.

“Mom? It’s Y/N.”

“Where are you?? We’ve been waiting for an hour at this point sweetheart.”

“I’m sorry, I had a little extra work to do tonight so I could spend all of tomorrow with you. And you’ll never guess what happened when I left the office.”

“What?”

“My car wouldn’t start! So I’m waiting in the security office and I’m going to call a cab,” your mother started to interject, but you cut her off, “don’t wait up on me. I’ll get there soon hopefully, but with this weather it might take a bit for the cab to get here.”

Your mom was saying something about sending your aunt to pick you up, and you waved her off, but when your gaze landed on the monitor’s camera feed, your blood went cold and the ringing in your ears prevented you from hearing anything.

Your eyes widened as you watched Jack open the office door building on the camera feed, pulling you inside, leaving only a moment before his lips were on your neck, and his hands were trailing down your body.

Your stomach lurched when you heard yourself softly moan his name before his lips covered yours.

This video was from earlier tonight.

“Y/N?” Your mom asked and you realized you had gone silent.

“I-” your mouth felt dry, your mind was racing, but you knew you needed to call the cab as soon as possible. “I’m calling the cab now.”

You hung up quickly, looking behind you and around the now cramped feeling office for the security guard.

Would it be safe to leave the office? How would you find your way out quickly with the lights off?

He was nowhere in sight, so you dialed the number of the cab company, hand shaking as you held the phone to your ear and cursing when it kept ringing with no answer.

Finally after what felt like an eternity, someone picked up.

“Hello? Please, I need a cab at 9876 Main Street.”

“How many passengers?”

“Just one, please hurry,”

“We’ll be there in under 5 minutes.”

You let out a sigh of relief, you were finally going home.

However, you were shocked back into reality when a hand suddenly clamped over your mouth, pressing a damp rag over your nose and mouth.

You let out a muffled yelp, struggling against them, but the strong arm that wrapped around your chest held you firmly in place.

You had only taken three gasping breaths before the world around you grew fuzzy, and then your vision went black.

Your eyes cracked open slowly and you lifted your aching head to find yourself still inside the security guard’s office, laid out on the couch. A chill ran up your spine and your noticed your coat was missing.

Rafe was sitting at his desk with his back turned to you, watching the video of you and Jack on a loop.

You let out a soft whimper of fear, shifting to stand up and try to run out of the room, but you quickly realized your right wrist was handcuffed to the sofa when it dug into the skin of your wrist, pulling you back down onto the couch.

The clinking of the metal alerted Rafe to the fact that you were awake and he turned around, a sick grin spreading across his face.

“You’re up! Sorry about all that with the rag and stuff,” he chuckled, acting as if it was some run of the mill accident.

His casual ease as he looked over you sent a chill down your spine.

You didn’t miss the fact that his large dog was awake now, sitting beside him and staring you down imposingly.

“Also, I um- I cancelled your cab,” he told you and your heart skipped a beat.

“W-why?”

“Well… I thought maybe you’d want to spend your Christmas Eve with me,” Rafe nervously offered.

You blinked at him in shock, at a complete loss for words.

“W-we could get to know each other, and finally have our first date.” Rafe stood up from the chair and approached you, and you shrank away from him.

“Listen, Rafe..” you swallowed dryly, heart hammering against your chest as you carefully chose your words, “I- I’m sure you’re a really nice guy, but I’m already seeing somebody.”

There was a deadly silence at your words and Rafe’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening in a way that made you nervous.

His dog noticed the subtle change in his attitude, a low growl building at the back of its throat and he slowly started to walk towards you.

“Easy Max,” Rafe warned, his tone cold and mocking. “Don’t wanna scare poor Y/N too much.”

The dog backed off at that, laying down in his bed, but still eyeing you suspiciously.

Rafe sat beside you on the couch, one arm wrapping around your waist and you shuddered at the physical contact.

“Listen, Y/N, just give me a chance okay? Why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

“I-” you stuttered nervously, your mind too blank with fear to know what to say. “I have t-two siblings.”

You tripped over your words, face warming up when you felt his hand slowly begin to trace up your back.

“Keep going,” he ordered with a whisper, his hand rising to the rest at the back of your neck. Your pulse was racing and your breath was beginning to grow uneven with tension.

“I’m f-from a town 40 minutes from here. I’ve never ah-” you winced when his fingers flexed slightly, putting you even more on edge. “I’ve never lived outside of the state.”

“Really? That’s incredible. Me personally, I’m from North Carolina, but I’ve traveled all over the world.”

His eyes flicked from your face to your chest, eyeing the way your breath was coming quickly. He grinned wickedly, drawing so close you could feel his breath against your cheek.

“Am I making you nervous, Y/N?”

He adjusted his hand, wrapping his thumb and pointer finger around the back of your neck while his other fingers splayed down your spine, and you let out a shaky breath.

“Would you feel more at ease if I was Jack?” Rafe spat his name out like it was poison in his mouth and you winced.

“N-no. I- I don’t- no,” you whimpered, not sure what he wanted to hear from you.

This night had taken a turn that you never expected and your head was still spinning as you tried to come to terms with what was happening.

Rafe let out an annoyed huff, a scowl blooming across his face as he stared at you.

“Do you want to see him again tonight?”

“What?”

“I said, do you want to see him again tonight?”

“I-” you stuttered, but you trailed off, not knowing what he meant or how to answer.

Rafe rolled his eyes, clearly growing irritated by your indecisiveness. He turned to find something on his desk before returning to you with a key in one hand and a small knife in the other.

Your eyes widened at the sight of the knife, your breathing picking up as you looked to him in fear.

“What-?”

“I’m going to unlock you and we’re going to take a short drive, but I can’t have you getting any smart ideas, sweetheart.” Rafe grabbed your cuffed wrist, jamming the key into the lock on the cuff that was attached to the sofa.

He grabbed your wrist tightly with one hand, pulling you off the couch and turning you away from him before reaching over your shoulder and bringing the knife to your throat.

He leaned forward, letting his lips come to your ear and you held back a shudder as he spoke, “if you so much as think about trying to get away from me, I won’t hesitate to kill you, do you understand?”

You nodded, choking down your tears as he pushed you forward to signal you to walk out of the office.

Rafe led you to a car, opened the door, and shoved you inside, giving you a warning glare to not run before walking around to the driver’s side.

“W-where are we going?” You asked as he started the car and backed out of the parking space.

“You’ll see, sweetheart.”

He turned towards the exit of the garage, and for a moment you could feel your escape within your grasp, but he steered away, instead steering towards the ramp that led to the lower levels of the garage.

“W-we’re not leaving?” You could feel your heartbeat pick up again in your confusion. Where the fuck was he taking you?

“We’re almost there, Y/N, calm down.”

Your eyes scanned the dark garage, but they widened when he turned the corner, his headlights revealing Jack duck taped to one of the office chairs.

“Oh my god,” you whispered in shock, taking in the blood that was already dripping from his forehead. Jack shifted in the chair, his eyes squinting as he tried to look through the windshield.

“What’s going on Rafe?? Why are you doing this?” You hissed through tears, frantically looking back and forth between Rafe and Jack.

He chuckled, but it lacked humor and you felt nauseous at the sound.

“Don’t you get it, Y/N?” His hand came to your cheek, forcing you to meet his gaze. “I love you so much, and he’s what’s keeping us apart.”

Now you were almost certain you were going to be sick and you let out a sob as his thumb lightly traced your face.

“I- I don’t even know you, Rafe! I barely knew your name before tonight,” you cried hysterically, begging him to find reason. “Please, whatever you’re planning, just stop!”

You couldn’t stop the burning tears from falling now, anxiety making your heart beat so fast you felt dizzy.

“Shh Y/N, calm down.” He wiped away some of your tears with his thumb. His blue eyes watched you with concern, but there was a coldness underneath the surface that frightened you.

“I’m gonna take care of it, okay? And he’s never going to come between us again.”

Before you could question him, he closed the gap between you, holding you in place as his lips covered yours.

Your eyes shot open in surprise, stomach turning in disgust as you squirmed against him, and you whimpered when he forced his tongue into your mouth. His lips felt hot against yours and the kiss lasted too long, as Rafe held you down against the chair by your throat until you were gasping for breath.

He pulled away with a dreamy look in his eyes as he scanned your distressed expression.

“Do not try to run. Got it?”

You stared at him blankly, taking a beat too long to respond and his hand tightened around your throat.

“Got it?” He repeated with a sickening edge to his voice.

“Mm, mm hm,” you nodded, mouth too dry to make any noises other than humming yes.

“Good girl,” he purred, leaning forward to press one last kiss to your trembling cheek before reaching over to open his door and climb out.

You were glued to your seat, too scared to attempt running with him still so close. You could barely watch as he approached Jack with the knife brandished in his hand.

“Please- stop it! Don’t get any closer!” Jack cried out and your heart skipped a beat, more tears sliding down your face was you watched with horror.

“You were never good enough for Y/N, you know that?” You could hear the rage in Rafe’s voice simmering beneath the surface, ready to be released.

“Always taking her for granted and treating her like she’s some everyday slut.” He spat, pulling his arm back before punching James hard across the jaw.

You stifled your cry by biting your lip, trying to ignore Jack’s groans of pain when Rafe punched him again.

“Rafe, stop it!” You cried from inside the car and he turned around to look at you before punching him in the stomach with a grin.

“She may not understand what kinds of tricks you’re pulling, but I do.” He slammed his fist into James’ gut again. “I know guys like you, who get off on playing nice girls like Y/N and treating them like shit.”

“No- I’m not-” Jack grunted, blood trickling past his lips as he struggled to breathe. He strained against the layers of duck tape wrapped around his chest and the back of the chair to no avail.

“And I’m sure you look down on the guys like me. You think you’re so much better because you went to college and got a comfy, corporate job, and assholes like you always get the girl in the end,” Rafe’s voice was downright venomous at this point, and you could tell that he was working himself up to a boiling point.

“Not this time,” he chuckled darkly, bringing the knife to Jack’s throat threateningly.

“Rafe please!” You screamed, tears flowing down your cheeks as you watched the scene before you unfold, feeling utterly powerless.

In one smooth motion, Rafe brought the knife across Jack’s throat and a river of crimson sprayed from his neck, splattering across Rafe’s face and clothes.

You sobbed as Jack slumped against the chair, his head leaning back to reveal the large cut splayed across his throat, and you knew in your heart that he was dead.

Before you could think twice, your hand was wrapped around the door handle, and you pushed yourself out of the car.

The garage was almost pitch black, save for Rafe’s headlights and you didn’t notice the cement wedge in front of you.

“Shit-!” You cursed as you hit the ground, adrenaline too high to register any pain from the fall.

You turned your head as you scrambled to your feet to find Rafe’s angry gaze fixed in your direction. Heart pounding, you stumbled to your feet and took off towards where you remembered him turning from the ramp to the upper levels, the sounds of your heels echoing off the walls of the parking garage.

“Fuck!” You heard Rafe roar from behind you followed by the sound of him hitting something hard in frustration, likely his car, before you heard his heavy footsteps chasing after you.

“Y/N!!” He yelled, his voice reverberating and repeating as he cursed.

Knowing that this was likely your only chance to escape, you frantically looked around for an exit once you got onto the ground floor, only to find that it was gated off, and there was no way for you to leave.

When you passed a second exit that was gated off, you realized Rafe must have closed them all down to keep you inside and your heart fell.

“Where are you hiding?” Rafe’s voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you could tell he was getting closer.

If you were going to escape, you weren’t going to be able to do it alone.

You could hear his footsteps getting closer behind you in the dark, and you tried to quiet your shaky breath as you ran to the brightly lit office, hiding behind the support pillars along the way.

Even if he caught you in the office, if you could just make a call to the police, hopefully that would be enough to save you.

You finally reached the front, pushing the door open slowly and quietly before crouching and entering.

Unfortunately, in your panic to get away, you had forgotten all about Rafe’s large dog, and you nearly jumped out of your skin when he ran up to you, barking and lunging, only to be yanked back by his chain at the last moment before reaching you.

Your heart rate spiked as the dog growled loudly in between sharp ruffs, barring his teeth and trying to nip at you.

“Shhh!” You whispered. “Good doggie, please be quiet!”

You eased past the dog and towards the landline, trying to stop the uncontrollable shaking in your knees as Max continued to bark.

Images of Jack’s throat being slit flashed through your mind and you choked back a sob as you reached for the phone.

Your sweaty fingers slid over the numbers and you held the phone up to your ear waiting for the ring.

But it never came.

You pulled the phone away from your ear in confusion, and looked down at the handset, following the wire connected to the phone to where it should have been plugged into the wall.

Instead, you stared at the severed wire in terror, realizing that Rafe must have cut it while you were knocked out earlier.

“Why are you trying to ruin our first date?”

Rafe’s voice from behind washed over you like a bucket of cold water, and you slowly turned around to find him standing in the doorway of the office.

He was an imposing figure, made all the more terrifying due to the flecks of blood painted across his face and shirt. His glasses were gone now, and you realized just how much they had been hiding the threatening glint in his eyes.

Rafe no longer seemed like the shy, nerdy guy you had taken him for before tonight, but instead a dangerous predator who had finally cornered his prey.

“Rafe,” your voice was so faint you weren’t sure if you were even speaking. “Please, I’m scared.”

Your throat felt tight, tears filling your eyes when you noticed the blood on his hands.

“Scared?” He asked incredulously. “You should be thanking me for getting that loser out of our way.”

A sob clawed its way out of your throat, and you took a step back, only to jump forward again when the dog’s low growl came from behind you.

“Now it’s time to stop running,” Rafe taunted.

You felt dizzy with fear as you watched him step closer, towering above you, the outline of his muscular form barely hidden by his leather jacket.

Heart beating loudly against your chest and blood rushing in your ears, you didn’t have any time to think your decision through before acting.

You rushed forward, trying to push past him to get to the front door, but you were a moment too slow.

Rafe’s strong arms wrapped around your waist, easily picking you up and spinning you away from the door.

You cried out as he carried you forward, pushing you against the table in the middle of the room and bending you over it.

“Stop it-!” You screamed as you struggled against him, but he easily pinned you against the hard wood, letting out a wicked snicker as he roughly pushed the skirt of your dress up.

“Don’t you want someone to take of you, baby?” The blond groaned desperately, fingers grasping at your tights before ripping them open.

“I just wanted to treat you nice, Y/N.” He growled, anger radiating off his tongue. “Like the good girl I thought you were.”

You wretched your arm free before bending your elbow and thrusting it into Rafe’s stomach.

He cursed loudly, his grip on you loosening for just a moment before his hand clamped down around your wrist, painfully twisting it behind your back and harshly forcing you against the table. When you heard his belt jingling behind you, your heart skipped a beat.

“Looks like I was wrong.” Rafe spat, and you whimpered in fear as he pulled your panties to the side. “Maybe you are a fucking slut.”

“Rafe please, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. Please don’t do this, Rafe,” you were quaking beneath him, crying harder as your pleas fell on deaf ears.

You froze however, voice dying in your throat when you felt the tip of his cock run along your folds.

“Oh god,” he strained, and you squirmed beneath him, cringing when his lips came to your ear.

“You’re so wet you’re dripping down your fucking thighs, sweetheart,” he taunted, barely shifting his hips forward and spreading your lips with his dick.

You sucked in a shaky breath, legs growing weak underneath you. You fisted the hand pinned against your back until your knuckles grew pale. His fingertips brushed your clit as he languidly dragged his tip along your pussy, up near your ass, then down to your clit. Up, down, languid strokes as he hissed through his teeth.

"Bet Jack wouldn't ever get you this wet, huh?"

Jack’s lifeless body flashed before your closed eyelids again, quickly replaced by the sharp sting of Rafe's fingers clamping your clit, rolling his slick-covered digits over your nerves. An instinctual whine left your lips, and Rafe sneered down at you as he dragged his dick back up to your hole, circling the head around your entrance as you protested.

"Rafe, please, please," you cried into the table, clenching your knees together and tilting your hips from him, anything to get him to pull away.

“Fucking stay still!” He hissed, wrapping his thick bicep around your throat in frustration. You let out a choked whine, tears coming to your eyes when his muscles flexed, cutting off your breathing, and Rafe ignored you as you helplessly scratched at his arm.

He groaned as he pushed into your cunt, his tip nearly sliding all the way inside of you, met with resistance that only fueled him further. Your pleas were lost to the heat that blushed Rafe's face.

"Fuck, sweetheart, you been holding this back from me?" He dragged himself out of you, watching as you clenched and quivered from the sudden withdrawl. Again, he pushed his flushed head into your warmth, and then out, in slow teasing strokes that made your head spin.

Against every survival instinct that was screaming at you, you stopped fighting. Each sting of his dick breaching you, each wet squelch of his fat tip inside you left you feeling dizzy with want.

However, when you felt his cock inch deeper inside, you whined in protest and squirmed in his arms, but one flex of the bicep at your throat quelled your resistance quickly.

“You’re so pretty, you know that, Y/N?”

You shuddered as Rafe groaned against your ear, his arm locked around your neck and preventing you from turning away. Your knees shook beneath you as he slowly forced himself deeper, and you felt betrayed by your body when you felt yourself growing slicker around him.

“Too pretty to be trapped in this shitty office job, wasting your hours at work, if you ask me,” he purred.

His fingers found your clit again, thumb rolling over your sensitive bud, and you bit back a moan as your back arched instinctively, allowing Rafe to dip deeper inside.

He was much bigger than you expected, stretching you out with each thrust, and pushing himself deeper and deeper until his tip kissed your cervix.

The blond wasn’t holding back anymore, reveling in every mewl and whimper he could draw out of you; and the way your snug walls clenched around his length had his hips snapping against your ass as he chased his release.

“Don’t you want a family to care for, baby?” He groaned, fingers swirling over your clit and you whined, trying to squeeze your legs shut in a desperate attempt to stop him.

His words echoed in your head, the sick irony completely lost on him.

You already had a family and he was holding you hostage to keep you away from them.

“We could start our own, together,” he whispered, and a muffled sob escaped your lips. When you squirmed beneath him, he easily held you in place, punishing you with quick, painful thrusts.

“You’ll never have to worry about working again,” he groaned when your tight walls squeezed around him. “Just- fuck- stay at home ‘n be my pretty, little housewife.”

Disgust and terror bloomed in your gut as you realized with a shock just how twisted his fantasies were. You felt sick thinking about how long his obsession had been festering beneath the surface and you had been too blind to see.

Rafe pinched your clit between two fingers and you whined, tears running down your cheeks as he forced your legs open again. You tensed around him, letting out a choked moan when he rolled his thumb over your tender clit.

You hated him, but even worse, you hated how much control he had over your body, and how painfully delicious each stroke of his cock felt.

“Please-” you whimpered, not entirely sure if you were begging him to stop or keep going, twisted desire clouding your head as he plunged into you again and again, the sticky sounds of your slick cunt filling the cramped room.

Rafe groaned, easing his hold on your neck to lean forward and trail messy kisses from your cheek to the side of your throat that was exposed, never slowing his pace or the steady circles around your clit. Nausea churned in your gut at the overly intimate gesture; and when the scent of copper reached you, you realized he had smeared some of Jack’s blood onto your cheek.

You gasped loudly when his lips attached to your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. Rafe’s low grunts vibrated against your throat when you squeezed down around him.

Your body rocked with every thrust of his hips, your knees quaking beneath you as his thumb circled around your clit faster now.

“Rafe-” your breath hitched and you shamefully realized that your undoing was hurdling towards you.

“That’s it sweetheart,” he hissed through clenched teeth, his bicep flexing around your throat as he lost himself in his pace, plunging into you again and again.

You let out a choked whine when his thumb pressed harder against your tender bud, and you were finally pushed over the edge.

Your body tensed, legs shaking as your slick walls spasmed around him. You squeezed your eyes shut as the waves of pleasure crashed over you, whimpering pathetically as Rafe pushed his cock into you again and again.

He snickered as you cried beneath him, reveling in the way you helplessly scratched at his arms, tearfully begging him to stop.

The blond slammed into you harder, each slap of his balls against your sensitive clit made your head spin and it wasn’t long before you were coming around him again.

You trembled beneath him, so dazed that you could only whimper mindless pleas.

“Fuck-” Rafe’s breath caught in his throat as you squeezed around him, his pace stuttered, and the arm at your throat tightened as he grew closer.

You could barely breathe now, and you struggled against him as he choked you, panic overtaking you when your vision grew fuzzy around the edges.

Rafe groaned loudly when he came, forcing his cock deep inside you and painting your walls with his hot, sticky cum.

You shuddered when he nudged himself deeper and you felt his thick cum overflowing past your sensitive, puffy lips. Out of instinct, you tensed beneath him, and he moaned against your ear when you tightened around his softening cock.

After what felt like forever, he finally pulled out, loosening his hold on you, although you couldn’t have fought back now even if you tried.

You heard him pulling his pants up behind you, and you flinched when his hands came to your back to pull your skirt down to cover you.

“C’mere honey,” he cooed, carefully lifting you off the table and guiding you to the couch. You obeyed him, much too out of it to put up any more resistance.

You cringed in pain as you sat down, but tried to make yourself as comfortable as you could.

Rafe’s hand was on your back, lightly drawing small circles on your exposed skin, and you found it nauseating that he could be so gentle after treating you so savagely.

He was staring at you, studying your nervous face for a few moments before reaching out to cup your cheek.

You flinched, turning away slightly as he drew closer, but his grip was firm, and he held you in place as he leaned in and draped his lips over yours.

Your stomach turned as his lips slid over yours possessively, and you let out a squeak of surprise when he pushed his tongue into your mouth, groaning as he staked his claim on you.

When he finally pulled away, your head was swimming, and the dazed look in your eye made Rafe smirk.

“Aw look at you, never seen you so cock drunk before,” he chuckled, before leaning in to give you another quick peck on the lips.

“You gave me the best Christmas gift I could ask for.” He grabbed one of your hands, wrapping his fingers around it and squeezing gently. “I’ll take care of you Y/N.”

You stared at him blankly, a tear rolling down your cheek that Rafe chose to ignore as he looked deep into your eyes.

“I love you, and I promise, I’m never leaving your side again.”

#dark!rafe cameron #rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dark!rafe cameron x reader #dark rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron noncon #blue christmas #stalker!rafe cameron

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sirfrogsworth · 1 month ago

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I've been thinking deeply about "good people" and "bad people" and how those labels don't work for me anymore except in rare cases (Elon, Trump, MTG, etc).

I've switched to good and bad behaviors as much as I can.

Jay Leno the comedian was just bad behaviors all the way down. He literally made Monica Lewinsky's life nearly intolerable. He was in some part responsible for her brush with suicide. Not only did he make jokes about her every night, but he has kept those jokes in his act TO THIS DAY.

He was probably the first mainstream transphobic comedian. When Cher's son Chaz Bono came out as a trans man, Jay did jokes for months. To his credit, he later did an interview with Chaz and you could see in real time Jay thinking, "Oh, this isn't what I thought." It seemed like meeting an actual trans person changed his perspective a bit. (Imagine that.)

And, of course, the entire saga screwing over Conan was just peak bad behavior. Conan's 60 Minutes interview is the perfect thing to watch if you want to know more.

HOWEVER...

Jay Leno the boss is a solid dude. He was the Anti-Ellen. Got along with everyone. Took an interest in their lives. He'd give them extra jobs like paying the art department to recreate vintage car advertisements for his car museum.

He rewarded loyalty and took care of his crew for the run of his show. He'd give them bonuses and expensive gifts for years of service. When there were strikes he would pay their salaries. He was so loved as a boss, that many of his crew members stuck with him for the entire run of his Tonight Show. They once did a thing where they showed the crew babies born during the Tonight Show and it looked like they brought in the entire student body of a grade school.

Jay Leno the car historian is a sweet old grandpa doing important work in conservation. Cars are a part of our history and I think it is important to have a robust historical sample. Jay does not just collect expensive cars just to have them and show off his wealth. He collects cars throughout history, preserves them as they were (to the best of his ability), and he *drives* them.

So many museums will do this historical pausing thing where they take an old thing, stop any current degradation, and then preserve it from that point forward. Or they might restore the car to its former glory and then do the pause. Keeping it on display and never driving it again.

But I find this problematic with cars for a couple of reasons. First, when you do that, you lose the context of how the cars needed to be maintained. You can lose access to mechanics that can work on them and create parts for them. Cars are not just visual objects, they are mechanisms with thousands of moving parts and the history of those moving parts is important too. Cars need to be driven to be maintained. The longer you let them sit, the more they will break down, the harder it will be to keep them in working order for preservation. Perhaps one paused and one driven would be a better approach due to the risk of accidents.

But also, the experience of driving these cars is important historically. How fast were they? How good was the acceleration? How did they corner? What did all the buttons and dials do? Were they fun to drive? Were they scary death traps? (Looking at you Dodge Viper. How many dentists did you kill?) The actual driving of the cars has important historical context. I think car museums should be next to a track and people should be allowed to experience riding in them.

Jay is an amazing historian and has a wonderful sampling of important cars going back to steam. He even has a steam fire engine from the early 1900s. He is a gracious host and gives lots of people access to his collection. He does weekly videos so there is a great visual record of this history and anyone can watch and learn about these old (and new but inaccessible) cars.

If you were to poke me with a stick, I'd say Jay Leno the comedian is a giant asshole. And Jay Leno the boss and historian is a solid dude.

And holding those two ideas in my head breaks my brain a little.

But I think there is merit in thinking of people as collections of good and bad behaviors rather than just giving them a singular verdict of good or bad person.

Jimmy Kimmel is another interesting study in good vs bad behavior.

He started doing comedy in the misogynistic manosphere genre. Famously, he did "The Man Show" with Adam Corolla. What's funny about that is I think Jimmy thought it was mostly satire (though he was absolutely problematic) and Adam was a true believer who thought he was really sticking it to those feminist bitches.

Jimmy Kimmel might be one of the most public examples of genuine, authentic growth. A person who analyzed his bad behaviors and decided to limit or replace them with good behaviors. I'm guessing his marriage and family helped push him along. But he started this journey long before that. He learned he could still push the limits of crude humor and even satirize his misogynistic past while generally being a solid dude. Slowly he became one of celebrities' favorite shows to go on. And, because of his growth, he started making friends with tons of them. You would not believe how many big stars are good friends with Jimmy Kimmel outside his show.

And when Trump came along, Jimmy got fucking WOKE. (The OG usage) His empathetic side came out in a big way. He couldn't hold it back with his crude man humor facade. He started caring about the world and what his kids were going to grow up in, and he added scathing political humor to his repertoire.

Jay Leno remains apolitical as much as possible with some mildly shitty conservative views popping out every once in a while. He is into old school WWII style patriotism and thinks everything should be made in America. Like, when someone says a car part is made in America, I worry Jay is just going to jizz in his pants right on camera.

Is Jay Leno a bad person? Sometimes. Absolutely.

Was Jimmy Kimmel a bad person? Sometimes. Absolutely.

Is Jimmy still a bad person? Not as far as I can tell.

Is Adam Corolla a piece of shit? Absolutely. Absolutely.

849 notes · View notes

cloudedangels · 5 days ago

Text

Caleb accidentally finds your vibrator and curiosity gets the best of him... MDNI 18+ !!! DUH!

3,929 words!! Oops!!! This was supposed to be a one-shot but I got extremely carried away (・・;)

This one is different than usual it took like 6 days... happy birthday birthday boy ily

Tags/cws: voyeurism, app-controlled toy, vibrator play, remote control, mutual consent, soft domination, emotional tension, powerplay, grinding, lap sitting, overstimulation, teasing, orgasm control, begging, post-orgasm intimacy, dirtiest dirty talk, filthy sweet, deeply intimate, character-driven smut, creampie, desperate sex, body worship, (nicknames including pips(queak) duh sorry not sorry.

It starts innocently.

Caleb’s folding your laundry like he always used to—perfect corners, sleeves aligned, like the fabric might get offended if he didn’t treat it right. You’re in the shower, steam softening the air, and he’s out there, helping. Like nothing’s changed.

But then he opens the wrong drawer.

Not wrong exactly. Just not where you’d have wanted him to go.

You weren’t hiding it, exactly. Just... tucking it away. Inside a sock.

Stupid. Lazy. A mistake. Because now he’s holding it in his hand.

You don’t hear any of this, of course. You’re humming softly under the water, dragging shampoo through your hair, while Caleb—sweet, curious, too-smart Caleb—stares down at the bright pink, silicone curve resting in his palm.

It vibrates when he touches the button.

He jumps, and then freezes.

His first thought isn’t what it is. Not really. He just stares at it, confused, before his brain catches up.

“Oh… fuck.”

Definitely a vibrator. Yours.

He sets it down like it’s radioactive, rubs his hand on his pants, and immediately picks it up again. His face burns hot. His throat’s dry. And he shouldn’t. He knows he shouldn’t. But his fingers move faster than his shame.

He opens his camera and scans it.

The image search is mercilessly fast.

“Lovense Lush 2: App-controlled wearable vibrator. Remote-operated. Hands-free.”

Remote-operated.

His stomach knots.

He reads. Scrolls. Reads more.

Synced vibrations. Custom patterns. Long-distance partner control. Phone access. Live syncing. Music-matching mode.

His cock twitches in his jeans.

Has someone else used it with you? Has someone controlled it for you? Did you sit on this very bed and let someone else make you come from miles away?

Or… did you just do it yourself?

Did you pull up the app with trembling fingers, thighs clenched, face flushed, and think of… him? When he was away?

He shouldn’t even be in this drawer, but now he’s hard, his mouth’s dry, and he needs to know.

He downloads the app—just to see... Just to understand. At least, that’s what he tells himself as it installs. That’s the excuse.

When it opens, the interface is sleek and pink, deceptively innocent. A smooth control dial. Pattern options. Bluetooth connection.

And one bright button:

“Connect to Device.”

He hesitates… then clicks it.

The toy hums faintly in his hand.

And then: “Caleb?”

Your voice cuts through the air like a knife.

He panics, dropping the vibrator into the pile of laundry like it’s on fire, locking his phone screen too late. When you walk into the room—damp, towel-wrapped, soft from the shower—his face is red.

You slow when you see him. You pause.

Then you see the drawer, and the sock, a little too unfolded, and him, sitting on the edge of your bed, face flushed, thighs spread.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “You didn’t.”

He tries. He tries to play it cool. But his voice is too calm, too even.

“Didn’t what?”

“You found it?”

He glances toward the drawer. “Maybe.”

“You weren’t supposed to—Caleb!” You grip the towel tighter, heart racing, throat dry. “You were supposed to fold T-shirts!”

“That drawer was open.”

“And you decided to… investigate?”

He tilts his head. “I was curious.”

Your jaw drops. “Curious? You downloaded the app?”

“I didn’t say I did.”

“You totally did.”

He smirks, just a little. It’s smug. Dangerous. Too aware. “It connects through Bluetooth, you know.”

“I KNOW HOW IT WORKS.”

His eyes drop—slow, lazy—to your bare legs under the towel. He doesn’t move from the bed. His phone is still in his hand.

“Why’d you hide it?” he asks softly. “Were you embarrassed?”

You go stiff. “I—I wasn’t hiding it—just—just—storing it. In a sock. For… safety.”

His gaze is devastating, his eyes bore through you. “...Safety?”

You hate how hot your face is. Hate how shaky your voice is when you try to take the upper hand.

“You’re… seriously? You’re such a perv, Caleb, you can’t just—just dig through my drawers and—and play with things—”

“Play with things?”

You glare. You want to sound furious. You probably just sound breathless.

“Who controls it when you use it?” he asks, voice quieter now. “Is it just you?”

You stare at him, trembling.

“Do you give access to anyone else?”

Your chest tightens. Your breath stutters.

The towel suddenly feels too thin. You don’t know what to say.

You’re too exposed. And he hasn’t even touched you yet.

“Answer the question,” he murmurs.

“W-Why are you even asking?”

“Because the thought of you using that,” he says, voice hushed and thick, “without me knowing… kills me.”

He opens the app.

Your eyes widen.

“Caleb, don’t—”

The toy hums from the laundry.

Your legs tremble. The vibration is faint—but you can hear it. You know it.

You gasp, knees nearly buckling. “You—!”

He doesn’t move from the bed, he just sits and watches you. His voice is careful. Curious.

“What do you think?”

“Turn it off!” you snap, voice shaky.

“Say please.”

Your jaw drops.

“You—” You can't finish. The flustered heat crawling up your spine makes your words fail.

He stands slowly, towering in front of you now, his phone still in hand, his cock hard beneath his jeans. He leans in close, his voice a husky whisper.

“…So this is what you like, hm?”

Your stomach flips. You can’t speak.

Your mouth opens—no words come.

He’s too close. Close enough to smell the faint hint of clean laundry on his shirt, the musk of his cologne softened by the heat of your skin. Your heart hammers in your throat like it wants to escape.

“Should I get it for you?” Caleb repeats, his voice quiet, careful, curling with heat at the edges. “Is that what you want?”

You shake your head, once, sharp. “You’re an ass.”

He smiles at that—lazy, dangerous. “And yet you’re trembling.”

“I just got out of the shower.”

“Sure,” he murmurs, eyes flicking down to your legs again, where the towel’s started to shift with the motion of your thighs. You’re pressed so tightly together it’s like you’re trying to stop the vibration that’s not even touching you. Just hearing it has you on edge.

He taps his phone screen. The hum fades.

You exhale shakily, trying to step back—but his hand lifts. Doesn’t touch. Just hovers in the space between your bare shoulder and the towel’s edge.

“...Was it for you?” he asks quietly. “The toy. Was it for when I wasn’t here?”

You go still.

His eyes flicker up to yours, something almost nervous beneath the teasing now... a real question... and maybe that’s worse.

“I—” you start, but your voice catches. You clear your throat. “I don’t owe you an answer.”

“No,” he says, gently. “You don’t.”

You hate that he respects that. Hate how it makes you want to answer anyway.

You glance at the bed. It's rumpled from laundry, and the drawer is still half open. That stupid fucking sock, limp. The vibrator, pink and obscene in its neat little pile of folded cotton.

“You weren’t supposed to find it,” you say, voice thin. “It’s… private.”

Caleb nods slowly. “But you kept it close.”

Your brows knit. “What’s that supposed to mean?"

His eyes are soft. Hungry. “You could’ve hidden it better. Somewhere I’d never look. But you didn’t. You left it where I’d find it… maybe.”

“I didn’t—” You stop. Realize the truth of it halfway through your denial.

Maybe you hadn’t hidden it very well on purpose.

He sees the flicker in your expression. His gaze darkens.

“I think you wanted me to know,” he murmurs. “Or maybe just… wanted me to wonder.”

You don’t answer. You can’t. Every inch of you is tight and hot and pulsing. You're wet and not wearing anything to catch it. Self conscious.

Caleb leans just a little closer, head tilted, breath warm against your ear, “Let me try it… I've been very bad, let me make it up to you…”

You almost say no. You want to say no. (You don't. You're trying to lie to yourself though).

But your thighs are clenched. Your breath is shallow. And you hate how close you are to saying yes just because he asked like that.

“…You’re ridiculous,” you whisper, voice cracking.

He hums, low and amused. “Maybe. But I’m still asking.”

You close your eyes. His breath ghosts your cheek. You feel him before he even touches you—heat and presence and the slow throb of your pulse answering his.

“And if I say no?”

“I’ll turn it off,” he murmurs. “Put it back. Never speak of it again.”

Liar.

You open your eyes. He’s close, but not touching. His hands are still at his sides. His phone glows faintly in his palm. He looks flushed, a little wild, but he hasn’t pushed.

He’s letting you decide.

But his gaze… his gaze is asking all the questions his mouth won’t. Would you let him? Would you let him push that little thing inside you and sit across the room—watching, controlling, listening? Would you whimper if he turned it too high? Would you beg for more?

You clench without meaning to. The ache between your legs is embarrassing.

You’re silent too long.

He tilts his head, and for the first time his voice slips past teasing into soft—sincere.

“…Do you want it, pipsqueak?”

That name. It makes you stupid. Weak. Warm all the way down.

You nod once, tiny. Almost ashamed.

“…Yes.”

He exhales slowly, relief softening his jaw. His eyes flicker toward the bed, the folded laundry, the drawer still ajar.

“Then come here,” he says quietly.

You hesitate.

“I’ll be good,” he promises. “I’ll go slow.”

Your feet move before your brain catches up. You drop the towel when you reach him, and he doesn’t react—not at first. Steel. His eyes stay on your face, and just your face. Like he’s waiting for permission to look.

So you tilt your chin up. Just slightly.

His eyes drop.

And fuck—you feel it, the weight of his gaze like a hand between your thighs.

“You’re not wearing anything under that towel,” he murmurs. “Were you going to get dressed before I saw you?”

“…I didn’t think I’d need to.”

He smiles faintly. “You don’t.”

Caleb kneels in front of you.

No rush, no show, down on his knees like it’s the most natural thing in the world. The phone rests on the bed. The toy sits in his hand.

“You still sure?”

You nod.

“Say it.”

“…I want it.”

He kisses the inside of your knee.

“Sit.”

You do. Slowly. Shaky.

He parts your legs and gently sets the toy on the bed between them. Then he kisses the inside of your thigh. Once. Twice. And then again—higher.

“I’ll put it in,” he says. “You just stay still.”

You nod, dazed, already breathless. The anticipation is worse than anything.

He lifts the toy. Clicks the button. It hums softly in his hand.

“Lay back for me,” he murmurs.

You do. The sheets are cold against your skin, and you’re trembling now, fully exposed, legs open. You hear the shuffle of fabric—he’s taken off his hoodie—and then his fingers are brushing up your thigh again, light.

“Lift your hips.”

You obey.

His fingers part your folds and you gasp—sharp, wet, startled.

“You’re soaked,” he says, almost reverent. “Was it the idea of me finding this? Or the fact that I did?"

You don’t answer. You can’t. Your face is hot and your eyes are fluttering.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “I’ll make it feel good.”

He slides the toy in, your wetness guiding it through. It’s bigger than you remember the egg goes in, bigger and smoother, the tail hanging, curled up against your clit, but it still stretches you slightly, suddenly. You let out a soft whimper at the intrusion.

“Too much?” he asks immediately, hand on your knee.

You shake your head, gasping. “No… it’s okay…”

He exhales. And then…

The toy buzzes to life.

You moan.

Your hips jolt, thighs tensing as the toy hums deep inside you, steady and quiet but so fucking present. Caleb’s still kneeling beside the bed, watching your body react, his hand firm on your thigh.

“Jesus,” he whispers.

You bite your lip and try to squirm.

He touches your knee to still you. “Stay.”

The vibration shifts—he’s changing the pattern.

It pulses now. Short bursts. Then a long one.

You can’t help it—you arch your back, a whimper catching in your throat.

He looks transfixed. His free hand curls into the sheets like he’s grounding himself.

“You like that?” he murmurs. “You’re already dripping. I haven’t even touched your clit.”

You want to snap at him, say of course I like it, but all that comes out is a shaky, “Fuck…”

Caleb leans in. His lips ghost over your stomach, then lower. His breath hits your inner thigh as he speaks:

“I want to know how many patterns it has. I want to know which one makes you cry.”

You moan. You can’t not.

“And I want to be the one holding the dial every single time.”

You reach for him blindly, your hand tangling in his hair.

He growls softly. “Tell me what you want, pips...”

You can't. He pulls back so that he can see you. He’s quiet for a long moment, just watching you.

Your legs are spread, the pink tail of the vibrator curled against your clit like a secret. You’re trying to stay still, thighs trembling, your breathing light and high. The toy pulses again—gentle, teasing. You gasp.

Caleb’s jaw is clenched.

His knuckles are white around his phone.

And he’s hard.

You can see it now, the outline in his jeans obvious, obscene. He’s kneeling beside the bed, but it’s clear in the way he shifts… his hips twitching forward like his body’s begging, even if his mouth stays quiet.

He breathes through his nose, slow, trying to control himself.

And fails.

“Sit on my lap,” he whispers. His voice is strained. Rough. “Just like this. I want to feel it. I need to feel it.”

Your lips part. “Caleb—”

“I won’t touch it,” he promises quickly. “I won’t even move. I just—” His hand flexes against the mattress. “Please.”

You nod, stunned by the heat in his voice, and he helps you—guiding you with both hands, gentle, reverent. You climb into his lap, careful not to jostle the toy too much, your knees on either side of his thighs, straddling him. He leans back slightly, hands on your hips to balance you. His face is flushed, pupils wide, lips parted.

Then the toy buzzes. It's sharp and low and deep inside you. You let out a soft moan and collapse against him, forehead to his shoulder.

“Fuck,” he chokes out.

You feel it—the way your body vibrates through him. The way the hum travels from your cunt to his lap, pressed flush against his cock through two layers of fabric. His hips jerk instinctively.

He groans into your neck.

“Oh my god,” he breathes. “You’re shaking.”

You are.

Everything is hot and melting and pulsing. It’s perfect and torture, a slick, slow throb building in your stomach. You rock your hips just once—barely—and he moans like you bit him.

“Don’t,” he gasps, fingers digging into your hips. “Don’t do that—fuck—”

You grin against his throat. “You said I could sit.”

“You’re greedy,” he hisses. “You’re…fuck…you’re evil…”

You clench around the toy, pressing it in with the bulge of his cock. He bucks up beneath you with a sharp, broken groan, like he’s being pulled apart cell by cell.

You feel drunk on the power for a moment, and he’s falling apart.

“Can you take more?” he whispers, pulling the phone up again with a shaking hand.

You hesitate… but you nod. “Yeah��”

He turns the dial up, carefully and not all the way. Just enough.

It purrs inside you now, every pulse kissing your walls, grinding against your most sensitive places with perfect pressure. Your hips jerk.

You whimper into his neck. “Caleb—”

His hands stroke your back. He’s panting. “I’ve got you,” he whispers. “You’re doing so good for me.”

You moan. Loud. Thoughtless.

“You’re so fucking wet,” he groans. “You’re dripping. Right on me. On my jeans. My cock…”

You bury your face in his collarbone, trying to hold still. Trying not to move. But it’s so hard. It feels so good.

“You’re making a mess,” he pants. “You’re fucking soaked, baby, oh my god—”

You can feel his cock under you, twitching, trapped and leaking. You rock forward a little on accident and he shudders, groaning ragged into your neck.

“Stop—don’t—I’ll come if you do that again—”

“You haven’t even touched me,” you whisper, dizzy.

“I am touching you,” he groans. “You’re on me. You’re fucking trembling all over me, I can feel every—” He cuts off with a moan, hands gripping you tighter. “Fuck—fuck—you’re gonna come, aren’t you?”

“I—” You can’t even form words. The pressure is building too fast, too sharp, and the way his voice sounds in your ear is tipping you over the edge.

“Come for me,” he whispers, raw and wrecked. “Right here. Just like this. Come with me under you, baby. Use it. Use me.”

You do.

You cry out, hips jerking and grinding, legs locking as the orgasm tears through you. It's fast, electric, too much. The toy keeps going, humming inside you while your body pulses around it, breath ragged, muscles tensed. Caleb groans as you come undone in his lap, his cock pinned between you, the wet heat of your release soaking through both your bodies.

You collapse against him, twitching. He catches you instantly. Holds you. Breathes through it.

His lips press to your temple, worshipping.

“You’re unreal,” he whispers. “You’re gonna fucking kill me.”

You smile, dazed.

“I hope so,” you murmur.

He chuckles. Then shifts just enough to press his hips up into yours. You can feel how hard he still is. How desperate.

Your grin returns.

“You want me to take care of you now?” you whisper sweetly.

He groans into your neck.

“Don’t tease me,” he pants. “I begged for that. You know me.”

You tilt your head and kiss him. Once. Soft. Deep.

“I know.”

Caleb's shaky breath is warm in your ear as he pulls you close, arms around your waist. “Are you too overstimulated for…” He pauses, voice breaking as he feels you shift in his lap. “Fuck. I want to be inside you.”

Your head turns slightly, cheek pressed to his shoulder. Your breath is hot. “Then do it.”

His breath catches.

“You’re sure?”

You nod, weak, your voice like silk barely clinging to your throat. “I’m dripping for you, Caleb. What the fuck do you think?”

He groans. The noise is wrecked, shaky, as he flips you so gently you almost don’t feel it until you’re on your back again. His hands are everywhere: your thighs, your hips, your waist. His eyes are molten, blown black with need, but his fingers stay careful, as he's pulling the toy out with a slick pop that makes you whimper.

You feel so empty when it’s gone. But not for long.

He fumbles with his jeans, breath ragged as he yanks them down just enough to free his cock…and then... fuck...

You both look.

He’s so hard. Veined and thick, flushed deep with need. The tip is wet and twitching and leaking, and you stare, wide-eyed and stunned.

You’d forgotten how big he is. Or maybe you just didn’t realize how needy your body was now. How soft and open he’d already made you.

He presses forward, then slides in.

You both gasp. It’s obscene how easy he goes in. No resistance. Just slick, tight, hot pressure and then full, stuffed, stretched around him like your body was already waiting for this. Begging for it.

“Holy fuck,” Caleb chokes. He’s not moving. Just inside, balls-deep, jaw slack, hips trembling. “You’re—you’re already this wet? You—shit, I can’t—I can’t believe this—”

You moan, helpless, legs wrapping around his waist, hands grabbing at his back. “Move—please, Caleb, you have to—”

He jerks forward with a groan and pulls out an inch—just enough to see his cock shining with you—then slams back in. You cry out.

“Oh my god,” he breathes. “You’re taking me—so fucking easy, baby—fuck, this pussy—” Another thrust, sharp and deep. You arch. “You’re already open for me. That toy got you ready, didn’t it? Got you all soft and dripping, just so I could fuck you like this.”

“Y-yeah,” you gasp. “Fuck—please, don’t stop—”

“Greedy little thing,” he growls, voice hoarse with disbelief. “You wanted me to find it. You wanted me hard and jealous and ready to ruin you. You fucking planned this.”

You shake your head, whining. “Didn’t—just—just didn’t hide it—”

“Same fucking thing,” he snarls into your neck, slamming into you faster now. “You know what it does to me. Fuck, you know—you knew I’d lose it. And now look—”

He pounds into you, relentless, each thrust punching air from your lungs. Your nails dig into his back as you try to hold on, but he’s not giving you a break, not now.

“I can’t believe how good you take it,” he growls. “So fucking wet. I’m sliding in like it’s nothing—nothing, baby, you’re sucking me in like you missed this.”

You sob out a moan, your whole body thrumming. You’re stretched wide, filled to the brim, stuffed so good you can’t think.

“I did,” you cry. “I did, Caleb—I missed it… Your perfect cock…”

His rhythm stutters—just a second—and then it gets rougher. Harder. Messier.

“I’ll give it to you,” he pants. “Every time. Whenever you want. I’ll fuck you open and ruin you, baby, I'll take good care of you… you don’t ever have to beg again.”

He pulls out almost all the way and slams back in, and you scream.

He presses his forehead to yours, breath coming in sharp, hot gasps. “You’re gonna come again, aren’t you?”

“I—I can’t—”

“You will. I feel it. I feel you clenching on me—fuck—you love it raw, don’t you? No condom, just skin to skin, me buried in your fucking pussy like I belong there—”

“You do,” you gasp.

That breaks him.

He snaps his hips, brutal and desperate. “You’re gonna come. You’re gonna come with me, and I’m not gonna pull out—I’m gonna fill you up.”

The sound you make isn’t even a word. It’s raw. Wet. Animal.

He’s soaked—you’re soaked—your arousal painting his cock, his thighs, pooling under you. He can barely breathe.

You’re clenching, right on the edge again, thighs trembling.

He sees it. Feels it.

“Come, baby,” he begs, forehead still against yours. “Come for me, pipsqueak. Let me feel you—fuck, I wanna feel you milk my cock—”

You snap.

Your walls spasm around him, tight and fluttering, your body locking up as your orgasm rips through you. You sob, moan, scream—you don’t even know what sound you make. Just that it drags him with you.

Caleb cries out your name like it hurts. Like worship.

His cock jerks and he thrusts once, twice—and then he’s coming. Deep inside. Hot, thick pulses of it, flooding you while your body still twitches around him. He groans into your neck, shaky, broken, lost.

You hold each other.

Breathless. Destroyed. Connected.

After a long moment, he whispers against your skin:

“You’re never using that thing without me again.”

You laugh, weak and giddy, and pull him closer.

“Deal.”

#love and deepspace caleb #caleb x reader #lads caleb #caleb x mc #caleb #caleb smut #caleb lads smut #lads caleb smut #lads smut #caleb xia #caleb love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #love and deepspace fic #love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfic #love and deepspace smut

868 notes · View notes

emmyrosee · 7 months ago

Text

“Hey.”

“Hi?”

This is the first time in four weeks you’ve answered his phone call. He never thought he’d be the one to break no contact first.

Sukuna tried, god he’s tried so hard to keep no contact, but there’s something about your saccharine voice that lures him back like a siren. He can’t get enough of it, and the lack of it in his life drove him crazy.

What you don’t know, is how often he clicks on your contact, how many times a day he dials your number, how much his fingers long to text you.

Even if after four weeks, he’s gone without it.

It’s hitting the call button that he hasn’t done. Until tonight, of course.

His mind scrambles to find an excuse for calling you, jaw opening and closing like a fish, and eyes darting around, even if you don’t see it. His gaze falls onto his sleeping dog, and he sinks his teeth into his lip.

“I just wanted to let you know, I finally got Titan to do that trick. You know-“

“Wow. Thanks for letting me know,” you say sarcastically. “Are we done here?”

“Yeah,” he says, gnawing at the tip of his thumb. “Yeah. Sorry to bug you. I just… thought you’d like to know.”

But neither of you make a move to hang up. He was positive you would immediately, sick of his voice and his attitude, but you don’t. Maybe you needed this as much as he does.

“No,” he finally croaks. “No okay? I’m not done. I fucking miss you.”

“Sukuna, stop-“

“No, you stop,” he snaps, voice tight with emotion. “Because if this is the last time we talk, you’re going to listen to me and you’re going to listen good.”

You go silent. He hears you breathing, and you don’t make any noise to indicate you’re going to hang up. He lets you sit there, pondering, he wants to leave the ball in your court, even if ending the call is his worst nightmare right now.

“Speak.”

He shudders at the coldness in your voice, he rolls his shoulders and slumps back.

“You… are all that I think about,” he says firmly. “You and I, we are golden. I can’t imagine my life with someone else, I fucking hate to, there’s no one for me but you, and the fucking fact that I have to wake up to a cold bed because of something I did, is something I hate.

“I miss you. I miss you so fucking much, I miss your voice and your laugh and your eyes. I miss your cold hands sneaking under my shirt, and I miss the way you fit against me when we cuddled. I miss you so fucking much, I hate this, I hate it so fucking much, and if I could fix it I would, I want to, please let me fix it-“

“You can’t.”

You shut him up.

“There is no fixing it, sukuna. You broke that trust, shattered it. You think I don’t miss you? You’re crazy.”

He calls your bluff, “you’re full of it. You want to get back together so bad it makes you sick. I know it does, I know you.”

“And how exactly have you come to that conclusion?” You scoff.

“Because you picked up the phone.”

You’re silent at that. He sinks his teeth into his lip, “you’d never answer the phone on someone you want out of your life. You’ve ignored people for less, you don’t fool me for one second.”

You’re still silent. He hears you breathing, as if waiting for him to keep going, read you like a book and prove you wrong.

He rests his head on the wall and shakily calls out your name, letting the vowels feel foreign on his tongue from lack of use. Pet names became so popular, his mouth almost forgot how to say your name. “I can fix this, if you’ll let me. I fucked up. But I know I can fix this.”

“You can’t fix shit,” you scoff. “You would’ve never let it get so bad in the first place if you cared.”

“I couldn’t fix what had already been destroyed,” he snaps. “But we know where we went wrong. We knew what went right. We can do this, do not send me away.”

There’s hesitation on your end. He feels it, he feels your reserve crumbling as he speaks.

“Please… don’t send me away,” he whispers.

You sigh. He sucks in a breath in preparation.

“I miss Titan,” you confess. “If we’re going to talk, we’re doing it at your place, so I can see your dog.”

He smirks.

“And I make no promises,” you hiss. “You don’t get the satisfaction of thinking we’re automatically getting back together because I don’t want to do this over the phone. We’re not. Not yet. Not now. But this isn’t a conversation to not do face to face.”

He closes his eyes and lets his body relax.

“It’s a date.”

“Don’t call it a date.”

1K notes · View notes

aeristudios · 28 days ago

Text

For A Good Time Call...

ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You were just looking for a distraction from your toxic ex. Soonyoung was supposed to be a one-time thing. Then he showed up, showed out, and ruined you for anyone else. ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Soonyoung x reader (mentions of ex!boyfriend Seungcheol) ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: smut, fluff, angst if you squint, friends to lovers, ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: soft!dom Soonyoung, dirty talk, kissing, oral (m and f receiving), light choking, breast/nipple play, fingering, riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, unprotected sex, creampie, lots of cursing, spilled feelings, jealousy, mentions of being a sneaky link with Big Sexy (Seungcheol), lots of cursing, pet names, teasing ᝰ.ᐟ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 4.4K ᝰ.ᐟ𝐀𝐍: This is an extension (part 2) to Toxic, but you don't have to read that to understand this story (it just adds more context to things). Thank you to the sweetest woman ever @yoongihan for beta reading this and saving my ass from all of my lovely grammatical errors 💙

Seungcheol: “I’m at the bar. Can I come over?”

You: “No.”

Seungcheol: “Why not?”

Seungcheol: “???”

Seungcheol: “…are you still mad about last time?”

Irritated, you throw your phone onto the couch and turn up the volume on a TV show that you were barely paying attention to. Your phone buzzes incessantly against your leg, and you do your best to ignore it, pressing the buttons on the remote until the sound blares throughout your apartment. Does it work? No. Your phone continues to buzz, but now the vibrations change patterns, which means he is calling you.

“Fuck this.”

You snatch your phone and throw it on the bed, shutting the bedroom door loudly as if you were locking away the big bad wolf who will infiltrate your mind and heart if you let him. Seungcheol is infuriating, a pain in your ass, a thorn in your side and any other euphemism that could describe what he is to you. He pushes your buttons like no one can, and unfortunately, no one else has fucked you better. You hate it.

You wish you could get rid of him, get him out of your system, and be free. If there were an antidote, you would take it; if a spell were to be said, you would recite it more than once. He gets under your skin, molds himself on you, and you can’t break free from him. He’s intoxicating and addictive, and one look in his eyes and you melt like putty. God, you need to get it together.

You haven’t seen him since the house party at Seungkwan’s last month, where you lost your inhibition and let him have you outside against a tree. He said he would text you, but didn’t; it’s what he does. You aren’t a helpless victim in this either; you knew what you were getting into with him while he has a girlfriend. But like a bad habit, you just had to have your fix, damned whatever the consequences would be.

Well, consider yourself rehabbed, because you are not falling for him or his soft lips again.

That month of separation? Pure gold. It’s like the universe slapped you in the face with the truest post-nut clarity. You spent your time apart working and hanging with people who always want to be around you, no matter what. No fights or raw emotions. You realized you deserve better than what Seungcheol has been putting out. It was fun being the sneaky link and having him whenever you wanted, but after a year of back-and-forth, it’s getting tired. You’re sick of being the girl who is always number 2 when he’s bored. You need something new. Fresh. Exciting.

It’s time to cut the cord, and the best way to get over someone is to get underneath someone else, right?

Leaping off the couch, you rush back into your room and retrieve your phone, ignoring the missed notifications from Seungcheol and scrolling through your contacts until you find the person you’re looking for. With a quick tap, you press the dial on his name and put your phone on speaker. It rings for a few seconds until he answers, a backdrop of ambient noise hinting that he might be out and about.

“Hey,” you say casually, ignoring the flutter of nerves.

“What’s up?” he responds, sounding happy to hear from you.

“Remember, when you said you could treat me better than Cheol could, and to give you a chance?”

He pauses, clearing his throat. The music gets softer, as if he’s gone somewhere quiet.

“Yeah? Why are you bringing it up?”

“Because tonight I want to give you that chance. Come over.”

He pauses again, and loud music resumes, crackling through the speaker, making you wince. You hear shuffling, followed by a door shutting and the ignition starting shortly after.

“Are you sure?”

You bite your lip as you think it through, knowing that once you cross this line, there is no turning back. “Yeah, I’m sure.”

He chuckles in your ear, sending shivers throughout your body. “I’m on my way. I’ll be there in an hour.”

You anxiously pace your living room floor, the minutes stretching on as you wait for him to arrive. A part of you feels guilty because you know you are using him. He’s a chill, respectful guy who spilled his confession on you on a drunk night. You could have chosen to leave him alone, done the right thing, sorted out your feelings for Seungcheol, and moved on in a healthy way. But you didn’t, and now here you are.

Your phone vibrates in your hand, and you pick it up slowly. The notification flashes, revealing the message: “I’m outside.”

You take a moment to gather your thoughts, looking at yourself in the mirror and adjusting your simple tank top and shorts outfit. A small, wicked smile creeps onto your face, hinting at nothing but trouble. Anticipation builds as you open the door, revealing your man of the hour with kind eyes and a gorgeous smile.

“Hi, Soonyoung.”

“Hey.”

You step aside, the door creaking as you let him in. A chilly breeze sweeps through, carrying the scent of fresh spring air and the faint trace of cigarette smoke that clings to him. He slips off his shoes, the soft thud against the floor barely audible over the hum of your humidifier. As he strides into your living room, his gaze sweeps over the space, a grin spreading across his face. “You have a cool place.”

“Thanks,” you say, pointing to the couch. “You can sit there if you want.”

He obliges, taking a seat to the right, and you take your usual spot on the left, sitting cross-legged and facing him. A silence stretches between you, the air thick with an unspoken tension, as if it knows what’s coming next.

“I gotta ask,” Soonyoung cuts to the chase. “Why did you really ask me here?”

“You know why.” You give him a pointed look. “I told you I was giving you a chance tonight.”

“Yeah, only because you're mad about Cheol.”

You fold your arms, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to find a response. You’re not used to this side of Soonyoung, challenging you and calling you out on your nonsense. He sits there smug, like you’ve been caught in a trap. Dare you say, you kind of like it?

“So what if I’m mad at him? What’s it to you?”

He shakes his head, his fingers tangling in his hair as he lets out a frustrated sigh. “Because I want to know what I am getting into… If this is a one-time thing.”

You watch him move closer to you, touching your knee as his eyes meet yours, steady and searching. “I’m not an idiot, okay? It’s no secret that I like you, and you know that. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have called me over here. Why do you keep entertaining him?”

How do you answer that? Is it love? Lust? A mixture of both?

“I… don’t know,” you answer honestly. “Old habits, I guess.”

You think about his confession to you six months ago at another party, where he said he always liked you and would give you the attention you deserved.

“I… don’t know Soonyoung,” you hesitated then. “I’m still figuring shit out with Cheol, you know?”

“Y-you don’t have to say anything now,” he stuttered, his nerves clearly getting to him. “Just know if you were my girl, you would always have a smile on your face.”

You were on another break with Seungcheol then, but weren’t in the headspace to think of anyone else. Soonyoung is nice and goofy, the boy next door type that always makes you laugh, but he wasn’t Seungcheol, and you weren’t interested then. Thinking back on it now, maybe that is a good thing. You would’ve broken his heart, and Seungkwan would’ve hated you for it.

“Uh huh,” Soonyoung nods, mulling over your words. “Okay, so you say.”

“Now, let me ask you something,” you charge back, changing your position to sit on your knees. “Why do you like me so much? I’ve always wanted to know.”

Soonyoung studies you momentarily, his facial expression softening as he prepares to lay his heart on the line.

“I’ve liked you since you first walked into Seungkwan’s house at that Lau party he hosted that one time. You are cool, smart as hell and can take a joke, and you are so god damn beautiful.” He pauses, his face full of resentment, before continuing. “I saw you first, and Seungcheol knew that. When we were sitting on the couch talking, I was just like, ‘I really like your vibe.’ I even told him that I wanted to ask you out then. But once I went to the bathroom and came back, you were talking to Seungcheol, and I knew right then and there, he already got you.”

Soonyoung leaves you at a loss for words for the second time tonight. You didn’t know he saw you first, and just thought he was drunk talking, and maybe he would get over it. You wouldn’t expect Seungcheol to mention this, but you can’t help but wonder what your future would’ve been like with Soonyoung instead. It could’ve saved you from a world of fights, frustration, and pain.

“Why didn’t you say anything then?” you ask him earnestly, your heart slightly pounding. “I had no idea.”

“What could I say?” Soonyoung responds. “‘Hey, I know you are with Cheol, but I liked you first, and he knew. I figured you weren’t interested.”

You exchange a long look, your thoughts running through your head. “Geez,” you exhale, a small pit forming in your stomach. “I could’ve been interested, had I known.” You move closer to him, searching his eyes for understanding. “I’m not mad at you, Soonie. I just wish I knew. It could’ve made things different for me, you know?”

“I know,” he confesses, taking your hand. “My offer still stands, okay? Give me a chance tonight to make you forget all about Seungcheol, and if it works, maybe we can see how this goes?”

You have always found Soonyoung attractive, but hearing how he speaks about you and how he has pined for you for over a year makes you want him even more.

“I called you over here just for sex, to get over him, and you still want to do this? With me?”

“Like I said, I’m not an idiot.” He chuckles. “But you are finally giving me a chance to prove my worth, and I’m going to take advantage.”

You mull over his words, your lips twisting into a playful grin. “Okay, let’s do it.”

Soonyoung pulls you over to him, carefully placing you on his lap like you were a delicate thing. You’ve never gotten a chance to appreciate his beauty up close, with his bare face, cute nose, and smooth skin. You lock eyes, a shared smile blooming between you, your fingers gently weaving through his hair. An electric tension prickles along your skin, a feeling that feels foreign but somehow exhilarating.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he says gently, his eyes peering into your soul.

“Don’t you get all soft on me, Kwon,” you tease, lightly pinching his shoulder.

“I’m only as soft as you let me be,” he quips, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip, igniting a flutter in your chest. “You know I am not going to go easy on you, right?”

You smile softly, your noses barely touching each other as you lean closer to him. “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you whisper.

His lips crash against yours, hunger and earnestness consuming him, and you immediately melt into him. A fire burns inside you, sparked by Soonyoung kissing you, craving to be taken in the ways you truly deserve. You grind slowly against his crotch, a tiny gasp escaping your lips as he places his hands on your hips, catching your rhythm. His eyes never leave yours, watching your face contort into pleasure as the building friction between your shorts and his jeans sends jolts throughout your body, electrifying your senses.

You kiss him again, savoring his soft lips and the taste of peppermint on his tongue. Soft moans leave him as you deepen the kiss, embracing everything he is willing to offer. This is the excitement you've been craving—the thrill of someone new who won't play games or tell lies. Someone unselfish, who kisses you as if you truly matter, and doesn’t hold back.

“How am I doing so far?” he murmurs against your lips.

“You’re doing great, baby.” You plant another kiss on him.

“Baby? Are we on those terms already?”

“Shut up,” you tease him with a wicked smile, slowly taking off your tank top and revealing your breasts.

You’re very proud of your body, and you know you look good, and judging by the way Soonyoung’s biting his lip, he agrees. His hands gracefully grab your breasts, kissing your nipples before sucking on them, his tongue swirling around your hardened buds. He worships you in that moment, murmuring sweet praises of how perfect you are and how much he craves you. A warm sensation stirs in your chest, filling you with a deep sense of fulfillment—a craving that had long gone unfulfilled: to be wanted, deeply and unconditionally.

“Take off your shorts, I want to see you,” Soonyoung breathes, pulling back just enough to gaze into your eyes full of awe and adoration.

You nod, climbing off his lap and slowly lowering your shorts and panties in one go. He licks his lips as he drinks your body in, like an artist with his muse. He stands, removing his shirt and revealing his sculpted physique and abs that almost make your knees buckle. It feels strange, having these feelings of lust for someone you wouldn’t have thought about besides tonight, but you are glad you made the call.

He pulls you close, his hands grabbing your derriere as he dips for another kiss, this one being deeper, darker, and full of desire that is soul-crushing if you let it. Your hands cling onto him as he lays you back down on the couch, your chest rising and falling as you watch him pull down his jeans, fixated on what’s aching to break free in his boxers.

“Do you want me to do the honors?” You smirk as you reach for him.

“You can do whatever you want, baby,” he whispers.

Baby. Hearing that word come from his lips makes your heart race.

“I’m already doing that.”

Sitting up, you pull down the fabric obscuring him, and what meets your eyes is nothing short of jaw-dropping. This man was bigger than you expected, and your mouth practically floods at the mere thought of having him wrapped in your lips.

“I’ve never seen you this quiet,” he quips, his cock twitching at your touch.

“Whatever.”

You gently grasp it in your hands and give it a sweet kiss, his tip already dripping with precum and smearing all over your lips. Your tongue plays around the tiny veins on his shaft, teasing and exploring every edge. His breath hitches, bringing a smile to your face as you prepare to take him whole.

“Who would’ve known Soonyoung has a pretty dick?” You giggle as you give his tip one last kiss.

His hand rests very lightly on the back of your head as you slowly swallow him. Your mouth salivates as your head bobs back and forth, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you enjoy tasting him. Drool drips from the corners of your mouth, making a mess on your chest and spilling on your knees. Soonyoung curses, quickening his pace as his hips subtly thrust forward, seeking more of your warmth, your wetness, the sinful glide of your lips down his shaft.

“Shit,” he breathes, voice strained with restraint. “You feel so fucking good. Don’t stop.”

Soonyoung fingers tighten around your throat, grasping it lightly as he fucks your face. Your eyes water as he quickens his pace, his cock hitting the back of your throat effortlessly. Your fingers climb to the back of his legs, bracing yourself for when he eventually cums down your throat. You want it; you can practically imagine it going down your throat.

“Okay. Okay fuck,” he gasps, pulling you off, his cock glistening with your spit. His thumb wipes the slick from your lip before he lifts you effortlessly, laying you back against the cushions. “You keep doing that, I’m gonna cum in your mouth and I don’t wanna waste the first round.”

You giggle breathlessly, heart hammering in your chest as your legs fall open to welcome him. “Who said that’d be a waste?”

He groans, sliding two fingers along your soaked slit before pushing them inside you, curling just right. “God, you’re dripping,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “All this for me?”

“Maybe,” you whisper. “Why don’t you taste me and find out?”

“My pleasure.”

His mouth crashes into yours again, tongue greedy and messy with want. His fingers twist in you slowly, earning shaky moans from your lips as he works you under hooded eyes. His lips travel down your neck to your breasts again, sucking on each one ravenously like he owned them, like they are his and his alone. Your senses are heightened, and you are fully aware of the trail his lips are leaving, soft kisses on your stomach, and finally meeting your center. He increases the pace of his fingers, lifting your legs on his shoulders to see his work of art, your walls contracting around him as you gush on his hand.

“Does that feel good, baby?” His tone is dark, like a switch is off.

“Mmhmm,” you mutter, unable to form a coherent thought.

“You can’t even speak. How cute.”

“Shut up—”

You don’t get to finish your sentence, as his mouth sucks on your clit tenderly, sending you through a bottomless well of pleasure. Your hand digs into your couch, a guttural moan echoing off the walls as you ride his fingers, your essence spilling on his digits. He looks at you like he is proud, slowly taking out his fingers and sucking each one.

“You taste better than I imagined.” He licks his lips. “Do you think you can get on top?”

You give him a mischievous grin, patting the couch. “I’m going to change your life, Kwon.”

He eagerly sits down, and you hover over him, your breath shaky as you sink inch by inch. He stretches you in the right way, his hands grabbing your hips like he is anchoring himself, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as you take him all in.

“Fuck,” he groans, his head cocks back. “This is better than I imagined.”

You still for a second, overwhelmed and still ripe with sensitivity. Soonyoung’s cock presses deep in you, thick and perfect, and your body trembles as you adjust.

“Are you okay?”

You nod slowly. “I’m more than okay.”

You roll your hips, grinding slowly as you get used to his length. His hands slide down to your ass, guiding you carefully as he talks you through it, his eyes fixated on yours as you dissolve into pleasure. It feels cosmic, like you are on this incredible high from which you don’t want to come down. Soonyoung fucks you with every intention to make you his, and little by little, you are falling under his spell.

“Shit,” you pant, digging your nails into his shoulder. “You’ve been holding back, Soonie.”

You increase your pace, riding him harder, as he thrusts up to meet you halfway. Your couch shakes, banging against the wall, which will surely get some complaints from the neighbors later, but you don’t care. His hands caress your body as he holds you close, thrusting deeper and intensely as if he wants to implant in you, letting the whole world know you are his and his alone.

“Fuck, Soonyoung.”

“You look beautiful.” His eyes are locked where your bodies meet. “Keep riding me like it’s yours.”

‘Like it’s yours,’ those three small words have so much meaning. Soonyoung isn’t just good at this; he is perfect. You kiss him desperately, chasing your high as your impending orgasm breaks free, overflowing and sending you into paradise. You increase your pace, bouncing up and down as you squirt over him, screaming his name over and over.

“Good, baby,” he says with a shaky breath. “Keep cumming for me.”

Your body is on autopilot, unable to stop the pleasure that is erupting from your body as you keep slamming down on him, your bodies covered in sweat and lust. He whispers sweet praises in your ear, kissing you all over until he lets out a low, broken moan, signaling his release.

“Where do you want it?” his voice is desperate.

“Inside!” you cry out, reaching your last climax.

His neck is buried in your neck as he cums deep inside of you, trembling with the force of it. Breathing hard, he raises up and kisses your forehead, holding you close until he is completely spent.

“Wow.” You blow a raspberry. “That was…”

“I know,” he finishes your sentence, barely catching his breath.

He lifts you off of him slowly, his cock sliding out of you with a pop, your pussy dripping with his cum. He notices it comes down your leg and raises a brow, and you roll your eyes, slowly getting off the couch with shaky legs.

You see him in a new light. You would’ve never expected this kind of confidence and aggression from Soonyoung, and it makes you feel warm inside.

“I’m going to shower if you want to join me,” you announce, walking down the hallway.

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

You fetch towels for both of you and step into the shower, letting the warm water hit your skin. Soonyoung comes in shortly after, taking your sponge and washing you off with delicacy and care, as if you meant something to him. You kiss him without warning, but he embraces it, stirring a warm feeling in your chest that spreads like wildfire. His arms find their way around you, pulling you in, and everything else around you disappears. He showed up when you needed him, he knew how fucked up you were and wanted you anyway. Maybe this is where you need to be.

“I would like it if you stayed the night,” you said, gazing at him.

“I’d love that,” he says, kissing the top of your head.

After he makes sure you are clean, he helps you dry off, assisting you into an old t-shirt before drying himself off and climbing into bed with you naked. He kisses the back of your neck, wrapping himself around you like a warm blanket, and you fall into a deep sleep.

For the rest of the night, Seungcheol is not on your mind. You dream of Soonyoung instead.

The sunlight peeks through your blinds and across your face, the brightness waking you out of your deep slumber. You still feel Soonyoung’s arms around you, his morning wood pressing hard against your ass, which makes you giggle. Reaching for your phone, you realize it’s not on the dresser, and you sit up slowly, not to wake Soonyoung as you creep out of bed and stalk into your living room. You see your clothes and his scattered all over the floor, the memories of last night flooding your mind and making you smile. Last night was truly one of the best nights of your life, and it was all because of Soonyoung.

You find your phone under your tank top as you pick up the clothes. The battery is surprisingly halfway charged and full of missed calls and texts from Seungcheol.

“Hey, baby.”

You face Soonyoung, with the cutest bed hair and sleepy eyes you have ever seen. It’s not lost on you that he is still naked; the events of last night, of you riding him into oblivion, are still on your mind.

“Hey, there, tiger,” you greet him. “I was just looking for my phone.”

You hold up your phone, and 9:15 a.m. is displayed on your lock screen. He nods slowly, grabbing his boxers and putting them with the rest of his clothes. His eyes tell you he has something on his mind, and you sit on the couch, watching him get dressed.

“I had a great time last night,” you say cautiously.

“I know,” he says cheekily.

You chuckle, your face heating up in embarrassment. “So, um… I would like for this not to be a one-time thing, if you are still up for that.”

He stops in his tracks, looking at you with a tenderness that gives you butterflies. “You mean that?“

“Yes.” You nod, slowly getting off the couch. “I mean that.” You give him a reassuring smile and move to give him a hug. Soonyoung has other plans, pretending to go for a hug and kissing you instead.

“You’re funny,” you giggle, reluctantly stepping away from him.

“I plan to make you laugh more often.” He gives you another hug, a genuine hug, that soothes you and fills you inside. “I’m going to change my clothes and run some errands. I’ll call you later?”

“I’d love that.”

Opening the door, he almost bumps into Seungcheol, whose arm was raised as if he were going to knock on the door. His eyes dart between you and Soonyoung, and you know he quickly understands the situation: he’s been replaced.

“See you later, baby.”

Soonyoung pulls you close and kisses you like he means it, grasping your face with his fingers. It’s possessive, leaving you breathless and on a high, and you have half a mind to drag him back into the house. You know he did that to piss off Seungcheol, but you don’t mind it. Watching him walk to his car and drive off, you return your attention to Cheol, who has an annoyed look on his face.

“So that’s why you didn’t answer your phone,” he huffs.

“Well, yes,” you say nonchalantly. “What do you need?”

“So that’s it? You don’t want me anymore?”

For the first time in a while, you don’t feel anything—not anger, sadness, joy, nothing. It feels like you are finally on the road to moving on and getting him out of your system.

“No, I don’t,” you say, stepping behind your door. “Go back to your girlfriend.”

Shutting the door in his face, you feel relieved that you could get the big bad wolf out of your heart, once and for all. You vibrate with joy on a different frequency, and it’s all thanks to Soonyoung.

taglist: @asasilentreader @shadowkoo @lovetaroandtaemin @gyupremacy @superpietom @vampsol

774 notes · View notes

cherrygirlfriend · 13 days ago

Text

── SHARING HOODIES ♡

♡ pairing: nerd!rafe x pervert!reader

♡ summary: rafe comes to get you from a party.

♡ warnings / tags: fluff! somewhat nsfw, nudity, annoying m*n.

♡ author's note: inspired by @tinythebunni ‘s request for a reader who wears something skimpy and needs to borrow rafe’s clothes. i hope you like this!! <3 check this if you want to see what she’d wear to a party!

PERV MASTERLIST ♡ RAFE MASTERLIST

"aw, come on rafe!" elijah's voice groaned in rafe's headset, "you suck ass tonight, man. what's the problem?" rafe rolled his eyes as he queued his group for another game, "it's cause his little girlfriend isn't there to support him under the desk." josh snickered.

"shut the hell up, josh." rafe spoke with slight irritation, "at least i have a girlfriend. your longest relationship has been with your right hand." "that's where you're wrong, buddy. i'm a leftie."

they soon started a new game, but when they were halfway through the second round, rafe saw his phone screen start to flash on his desk with an incoming call, the screen displaying your name and a heart after it. rafe was quick to mute his mic and place his headset onto the desk, pressing the green button and putting you on speakerphone as he continued playing. "everything alright?"

"hiiii pumpkin pieeee!" you giggled on the phone, music blasting in the background along with the chatter of other people. rafe chuckled softly; he had known that you'd be going to a party tonight; after all, you'd gotten ready in his room and had tried to convince him to come with you.

"hey, lovebug. i take it you're drunk?" "nooo, i'm just a liiiittle tipsy." you said, and rafe could hear you slurp up a drink and swallow after finishing your sentence, "i'm sure, i'm sure."

"can you come n get me?" you slurred, "'m tired n can't... can't, uh, remember where my dorm is..." "yeah, of course. you're at sigma nu, right?" "mmhm..." "okay, i'll be there in fifteen. go find some water and one of your friends. got it?" "yessir." you snorted, and he hung up the phone and put his headset back on, unmuting himself.

"listen, guys, i'm gonna have to quit." rafe explained as he closed the game mid-match. "what? why the hell?" elijah questioned, "my girl called and asked me to come get her from a party." "damn, i thought it was bros before hoes." josh snarked.

"yeah, well, we're not fifteen anymore. and she's not a hoe, she's my girlfriend. i'll message you guys later." rafe didn't even wait for them to reply, getting off the call and turning off his computer before either boy could utter a syllable. the boy grabbed his things and pulled on his hoodie, quickly rushing out of his dorm.

as soon rafe was outside, he dialed your number, his shoes crunching against the gravel as he walked towards the location of the fraternity you'd told him you were at, but no matter how many rings he waited, you didn't answer.

rafe ran a hand through his sandy hair, hanging up and calling you again. ring, ring, ring, ring, ring... once again, no answer. he bit the inside of his cheek, picking up his pace as he once again tried calling you, to no avail.

once the fraternity house came to view, rafe pocketed his phone, the boom of the bass piercing through his eardrums as soon as he entered the building.

rafe wasn't like you. while you thrived in these environments, huge parties where there were people every corner you turned, floors sticky with booze and other liquids, one sweaty young adult pressing against another, smoke that smelled like cotton candy, music so loud it'd damage anyone's hearing in the long term… rafe had always hated parties.

however rafe's height was an advantage; at 6'2, he was among the tallest at the party, and he hoped it wouldn't be too hard to spot you, his heart beginning to race from worry; what if something had happened to you?

he walked around the living room and even tried calling out your name, but the music booming in the stereos obviously was loud enough to drown out every squeak of his voice, but as he looked around, he didn't seem to spot you.

rafe pulled out his phone and dialed your number once again and kept searching through the living room for anyone who looked familiar, almost unable to hear the rings that signified an outgoing call over the noise of the TOP 50 playlist currently playing.

he went back into the lobby, but just as rafe was about to start really panicking, he saw a familiar figure through the wide archway leading to the kitchen, wearing the same outfit you'd shown off for him in an attempt to convince him to come with you. but his relief was shortlived when he saw the way you were swaying on your feet, the glassiness in your eyes made more pronounced by the fluorescent light above you, rafe's jaw clenching almost out of reflex when he saw the guy chatting you up, his hand on your bare arm. rafe took a deep breath as he made his way to the kitchen, beelining straight to you.

"are you okay?" rafe leaned down slightly to look into your glassy eyes, tugging the stranger's hand off you in a less-than friendly manner. "hey dude, i was here first. go find some other chick." the stranger scoffed, making rafe straighten up and look at him in irritation, narrowing his eyes at the other boy.

"hey dude, keep your hands off girls who are too drunk to even stand properly. this is my girlfriend." "that's your girlfriend?" the stranger let out something between an incredulous scoff and a snort, while rafe simply ignored him, more worried about you. "buggy, are you okay?" he asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"you came." you smiled up at him softly, letting yourself practically crash into your boyfriend's side, "this douche is bothering me..." you mumbled, making rafe chuckle softly as he snaked his arm around you. the other guy simply rolled his eyes and mumbled some insult under his breath as he started walking away. "let's get you home, yeah?" rafe wasn't even sure if you heard what he was saying, but you simply smiled and nodded nonetheless.

rafe's arm was tightly wrapped around you as he led you out of the loud frat house and into the cool night air, starting to walk back towards the dormitories. he was too focused on trying to get you back to the dorms to notice the way your teeth were starting to chatter and the way your skin was forming goosebumps until you let out a quiet mumble, "rafeyyy... 'm cold..."

his eyes widened as he looked down at you, clad only in a top and a miniskirt. rafe sighed as he detached from you, a childish whine leaving your lips, thinking he did it because he didn't want to hold onto you anymore. rafe's t-shirt rode up slightly and his hair got messed up when he took off his snoopy-themed hoodie, turning to you, "lift your arms up, buggy."

you did as he said, and your boyfriend pulled the hoodie onto you, basically having to guide your arms into the arm holes of the hoodie, but when you finally had the hoodie on, rafe let out a small chuckle as he looked you up and down. for some reason, seeing you wearing his clothes always managed to make your boyfriend's heart race like crazy, even if it was something as silly as a snoopy hoodie.

"what's so funny?" you pouted, the hood still over your head, "nothing." he shrugged, wrapping his arm around you once again and starting to lead you towards the dorms, "it's just that... the hoodie is longer than your skirt."

"it's your fault for being freakishly tall, you damn beanstalk." you mumbled as you leaned into him. "or your skirts are freakishly short..." "prude." you stuck your tongue out at him, "acting like you weren't admiring the way i looked in this before i left." rafe felt his cheeks warm at your words, letting out an incredulous scoff as you simply giggled as he continued leading you towards the dormitory.

after about ten minutes of you wobbling and putting most of your weight on the side that was pressed against rafe, the two of you finally arrived at the boys' dormitory, "alright, try and be quiet." rafe said to you, rubbing his hand up and down your hoodie-clad arm. you simply responded by bringing your pointer finger to your lips and hushing, rafe unable to help the small smile on his face from how adorable he found it.

once you got to rafe's room, your boyfriend helped you to his bed where you immediately collapsed onto the mattress, letting out a moan of relief, making rafe feel slightly ashamed for the stirring he felt in his pants. he cleared his throat as he walked to the bed, "baby, you should take your clothes off first." "can't you do it…?" you mumbled, "are you sure?" "'s not the first time you've seen me naked, rafe."

rafe started with your heels, carefully peeling them from your feet, pressing a few kisses on each leg as he removed them. then he moved up onto the bed, lifting the hem of the hoodie as his long fingers slowly pulled down the zipper on your skirt, shimmying the fabric off, slight indents left on your stomach. rafe pressed soft kisses on each of your thighs, soft hums leaving your lips. "lift your arms up, love." he mumbled softly, and you did as he said; at once rafe pulled the hoodie off along with your top, throwing them onto the floor.

rafe trailed warm kisses leading from the waistband of your panties up to the underwire of your bra, before pulling back, "can i take this off?" he asked softly, and you nodded. rafe's hands slowly slid from the front of your bra to the back, until he found the clasp. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when you felt the clasp come free, allowing rafe to slide the straps down your arms and discard your bra.

rafe's hands softly massaged the indents of the underwire, pulling a sigh of relief from you, "do you want to borrow a shirt from me to sleep in?" he asked softly, but you shook your head and spoke softly, "can we just sleep like this? both of us?"

rafe's cheeks reddened slightly, but he nodded and tugged his shirt off, throwing it amongst your clothing. he then continued on to pull down the waistband of his sweats, kicking them off onto the floor and settling into bed.

you pulled the covers over both your heads with a quiet, mischievous chuckle, looking into his eyes, "does my breath stink?" "like a brewery." rafe said softly, and despite his words, he still brought his lips to yours, your bare chest pressed against his, rafe's hand sliding down to your back.

as he pulled away from the kiss, rafe trailed his finger up and down your spine, goosebumps forming on your sensitive skin. you nuzzled closer to him, feeling the warmth of his chest on your face, the two of you whispering sweet nothings to one another under the blanket, soft, drunken giggles escaping the little bubble you'd created.

"rafe...?" you mumbled quietly, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second, "yeah?" he answered, his fingertips still tracing your spine, "thank you for coming to get me..." at your words, rafe let out a quiet huff of a laughter against your shoulder.

"you never need to thank me for something like that. if you call me, i'll come."

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