#Vehicle Lift For Garage

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Mizutani Hozuki "Hoseki"

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5 Tips for DIY Installing 2 Post Lift Plus BONUS Time Lapse with Narration

Continue reading 5 Tips for DIY Installing 2 Post Lift Plus BONUS Time Lapse with Narration

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Chevelle

Summary- (joel miller x virgin!reader) Joel figures out that you’re the one who hit his baby, his precious 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle. He needs you to make it right, but he doesn’t want your money ❤️‍🔥🍆 (5k words)

Tags- MDNI hot girls can’t drive, implied age gap, virgin!reader, we're calling him tender dark!joel, soft!dom joel, tender dubcon (power imbalance, joel solicits sex from reader, no explicit consent but reader is into it) reader has a luscious bush, Joel walks you through handjobs, blowjobs, fingering, oral, unprotected piv, creampie, come eating, loss of virginity. Joel is clothed and reader is not.

A/N- Writing this is how I spent my spring break. Hope you love it 🩵 Thank you @noxturnalpascal for all of your help editing and your encouragement.

Based on mine and @beefrobeefcal shared prompt where we asked, "What would happen if reader damaged Joel’s vehicle?” Her fic is here and it’s one of my favorite things I’ve read!! Kiki has such a beautiful voice in her writing and I love all the details she adds to her fics.

Pawn shop by @toxicanonymity came to mind when I wrote this story and was a source of inspiration. Also worth a read, I have nothing but love for Tox’s writing 🩷

It’s late when you get off your shift at Tony’s, the shitty Italian restaurant you’ve been working at for far too long. It doesn’t pay much and you’ve considered working a new job to save up and move out of your brother’s house, but you’ve been putting that idea off for a variety of reasons. One of them being Joel. 

Joel’s your neighbor, a sexy, older man you’ve got a certain fondness for. His hair used to be more brown but it’s grayer now, same with the scruff on his face. He’s got sparkling, chocolatey eyes and a sharp nose set above a thick, downturned mustache. He always looks a little dirty when you see him, with dirt caked into his forehead wrinkles and grease smeared along his temple or his jaw. He’s always either fresh off a contracting job or working on his car. He’s got this cute little Chevy he spends his nights and weekends with, a 1964 Chevrolet Chevelle, baby blue.

Joel was one of the first people to welcome you to the neighborhood and even helped you move your stuff into your brother’s house, though helping you implies he let you do any work. Joel offered you a pop from his fridge and then took over entirely, putting both himself and your brother to work moving all of your stuff in. You didn’t lift a finger that day. 

-

You can’t seem to pull your eyes from the little green glowing letters on your dash, watching letters and numbers on the screen roll on by. 12:37 A.M. 101.9. Paper Bag - Fiona Apple.  You’re so out of it. You yawn and blink a couple of times, focusing back on the narrow roads of your neighborhood. It’s so poorly lit over here, and it doesn’t help that one of your headlights is out. Joel’s been bugging you to let him fix that, he says it’ll only take five minutes.

You turn onto your street and bam. You’re wide awake now. You just hit something. 

You hit Joel’s car. Joel’s fucking car. What the fuck is it doing on the street? He always has it safely kept in his garage. Oh dear god, the panic is setting in. This is Joel’s baby. You just hit his baby, his pride and joy. 

You can’t even bring yourself to assess the damage you’ve inflicted upon his dear Chevy. Probably dented to shit, but you don’t really wanna know. Instead, you just pull your foot off the brake, press your remote control garage door opener, then pull into your garage as you press your lips together tightly. You’re surprised and relieved to find that there’s hardly a scratch on your own car. Joel won’t know. He won’t.

The next morning, you’re sipping on your coffee as you check your mailbox. Joel’s outside his house, loading up his work truck with some tools and supplies. He waves to you and you wave back, a small stack of mail in your hand. 

“Whose mail you got today, sweetheart?” he calls to you. 

You check the names on some of the letters. “Davidsons’ and Pierces’,” you answer through a chuckle. Joel rolls his eyes and laughs. The incompetent mailman is a running joke amongst yourself, Joel, and your other neighbors. He never seems to deliver anything to the right address, so you and your neighbors are often hand delivering each other your misplaced mail.

You laugh with Joel until you notice his smile disappear. He’s narrowing his eyes on his Chevy. Your heart drops as he steps closer to the vehicle, then pinches his nose in frustration. Fuck. Joel stomps back to his work truck, haphazardly tosses something in the bed and then slams the tailgate. Yeah, he’s fucking pissed. Your neck and your face heat in shame as you quickly run back inside.

-

In the two weeks since Joel’s car was hit, he’s been working to repair it tirelessly. He’s ordered a new tail light, since whoever hit his car shattered it and he’s spent a pretty penny ordering the exact shade of baby blue paint to touch up all of the scratches. Joel only trusts himself to touch his car, but the situation necessitates that he’ll have to take it in to a local repair shop to get the dents out. Fucking fantastic. 

When Joel gets off work tonight, he notices he’s got some packages on his doorstep, hoping it’s the shit he ordered for his car. He’ll open them shortly, but he first notices that one of the packages is addressed to you. Go figure, he thinks, chuckling to himself. He walks the package over to your house, noticing your car is parked outside of the driveway. And it’s backed in too, which is odd. Joel assumes your car must’ve been blocking your brother’s, so he probably played musical chairs with your cars to get his out and then backed yours up onto the driveway. You never back your own car in the driveway, and Joel’s pretty sure it’s because you don’t know how. You probably can’t parallel park, either. He’ll have to show you how to do that sometime.

What’s also new is a bit of baby blue paint on your red Honda Civic’s exterior, right by your headlight, the same headlight he’s been nagging you to let him fix. Joel bites the inside of his cheek. Interesting. He knocks on your door, package in hand, but he’s met with no answer. No biggie. He leaves the package on your porch and goes back to your car, inspecting the paint once more. He scoffs in astonishment and walks home. Unbelievable. 

-

The next evening, you check your mailbox after forgetting to do so earlier. As always, you never have just your own mail. This time you’ve got Joel’s. You walk it over to Joel’s house with the intention of dropping it off on his porch and going back home, not wanting to bother him as he works on his Chevy but his whistle startles you. “Hey you,” he says. “C’mere.”

“O-oh,” you stutter. “I’m just dropping off your–”

“Yeah, I know. Just c’mere a minute,” Joel says. “Got a fuckin’ bone t’pick with you.”

Your palms are beginning to sweat. He doesn’t know anything. Maybe he just wants some company while he works on his car, it wouldn’t be the first time. But still, there’s something about his tone. You step off of his porch and cut through his lawn to get to his garage. Once inside, you help yourself to a root beer from his refrigerator. Something cold and fizzy and sweet to help you calm your nerves.“Oh, sure, help yourself,” Joel mumbles. He notices your fingers slipping off the tab of the pop can and pulls it from your hands, then opens it for you. He’s wearing a stained Prince and the Revolution t-shirt and a slightly too tight pair of jeans that squeeze his ass just so. His garage is decorated with old license plates, posters, other odds and ends. 

“Thank you,” you whisper. 

Joel says nothing as he walks to his work bench. He pulls a lightbulb out of a cardboard box and waves it in your direction, he’s only a couple of feet from you. “Ordered the wrong bulb,” he tells you. 

You can only nod. You think about maybe making a joke about the mailman screwing it up somehow, but you bite your tongue. You don’t trust yourself not to stutter right now.

“M’sure you saw, my baby here’s all banged up,” Joel puts the bulb back in the box and leans against his work bench, facing you. “Happened a couple weeks ago.”

“Mm,” you hum.

“Hit and run, can you believe that?” 

“No, I can’t. That-that’s terrible.”

“I know it is. And here I thought we had a nice neighborhood…” he trails off before speaking again, “You think you know someone, huh.” 

Someone. So he has someone in mind? “Yeah, it’s terrible…what happened to your car. Can’t believe someone would uh…would do that, knowing how you, your car…yeah. Terrible.”

Joel stares at you for a minute before speaking again, taking note of how you can’t seem to hold eye contact with him. He steps closer to you.

“You wouldn’t know a thing about it, right?”

“Yes,” you answer, quickly realizing your word mishap when Joel raises his eyebrows. “No, yeah. I don’t know–yeah, nothing,” you sip your root beer before fidgeting with the pop tab and shifting your weight from one foot to the other. 

Joel notices. “Squirmin’ an awful lot over there, sweetheart. You got something you wanna tell me?” You shake your head, still playing with the tab on the pop can. Joel removes it from your hand, his fingers gracing over yours before placing it on the workbench. He’s moving closer to you now, matching your pace as you walk backward until the back of your legs hit his car. You gasp, he stands so tall and imposing in front of you. “Easy,” he warns. “You be careful with her.”

“Yeah, I know. Always,” you reply. Your voice is beginning to shake. 

Joel hums at your response. “Not always, though, sweetheart. Think you were pretty careless with my baby a couple weeks ago.” 

The familiar pressure behind your eyes is beginning to build as tears are pricking your waterline, “I don’t know what–”

“Awh, don’t do that. Don’t lie t’me.” 

 The tears spill over. You’re caught. You don’t know how Joel figured out what you did, but he did. “You’ve got a guilty conscience, dontcha?”

You nod before you can speak. “I’m so sorry,” you cry. Sobs begin to wrack your body, your tears now flowing freely. You’re so guilty. You should’ve told Joel what happened that night. It was an accident, and he might’ve been mad, but you’ve probably made it worse for yourself with your dishonesty. “I’m so sorry, Joel, it was late and I was so tired–”

Joel pulls you in a tight embrace, stroking your back with his fingertips. “Shhh, I know. I know,” he whispers in your ear,  “S’okay, sweet girl.” 

“It was so…” you try to explain, choking on your sobs and your sniffles. “So late and d-dark and I wasn’t paying attention.”

“I know. Quit your cryin’, s’gonna be fine,” Joel whispers. He pulls away from you, looking at you with those deep brown eyes of his as he wipes the tears from your face with his thumbs. Know you’ll make it up to me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “I’ll pick up some more shifts, Joel, and I’ll save and–”

“Oh, no. Not that. Save your money,” he tells you earnestly. “Somethin’ else,” Your eyes follow Joel when he leaves you for a moment to flip a switch on the wall of his garage. Something in the air changes then, a thick, heavy feeling between you both when he makes his way back to you. “Use your head, sweetheart. How are we gonna make it right?”

Your mouth is dry, your tongue swollen as you pick up what Joel’s putting down. “Let me give ya a hint,” Joel grunts, sucking in his gut slightly as he unbuttons his jeans. He wears no underwear, a thatch of coarse hair littering his skin is what you see when he pulls down his zipper. He grips your wrist and shoves your hand beneath the denim where you feel his package, already half hard. It’s warmer, thicker than you would expect. He feels heavy in your palm, his pubic hair wiry and scratchy against your knuckles. 

He doesn’t tilt his head in confusion at your hesitancy. “Don’t know what to do with all this, do ya?”

You shake your head no. “I’ve never…with anyone, before.”

“S’alright. I’ll walk ya through it all,” Joel says, seemingly unsurprised at the revelation. With your hand still on his cock, Joel pulls himself out of his jeans entirely. He’s harder now. “Like this,” he instructs, bringing your hand to his mouth and spitting in it. A pang of arousal fills your gut at the action. He pushes your hand lower and guides you to wrap your hand around his cock. It feels heavy, warm to the touch, sticky with his sweat and his saliva. Rock hard, but smooth like satin. You admire him, his blushed tip, the prominent veins on his shaft. 

Your breath hitches as Joel takes control, using his strong, weathered hand to guide your own to massage his cock. “You got it,” he encourages, sensing your rigidity. “Tighter,” he instructs, squeezing his hand around yours. You’re slow to gain confidence but he’s patient, doing the work himself for now. “You move your hand all the way up, all the way down my cock,” he tells you. 

You nod in understanding. Joel drops his hand but yours stays stroking his member. He sighs and tilts his head backward as you focus on the task at hand. Without the pressure of intense eye contact, you take the opportunity to admire him, the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows, the small drops of sweat rolling down his throat. You’re shy when he smiles at you, quickly averting your attention from him and to his cock, watching the way it twitches beneath your hand, where a little bead of precum forms. Experimentally, you swipe your thumb over the tip. “That’s it,” he whispers, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. He ruts his hips into your hips, “Doin’ just fine.”

You stroke his cock like this for a while, gaining confidence in yourself until he stops you suddenly.

 “Is that it?” 

“Is that it,” Joel mocks with a feigned pout. “No, hon. You banged up my baby pretty good. We ain’t quite square yet.”

His leaking cock bounces against his tummy as he approaches his work bench. Your heart pounds as you can’t quite see what he’s reaching for. “Know it’s new to ya,” he says.  “Just listen to me, s’all you gotta do.”

Joel returns to you with a dirty rag in his hand and lays it on the concrete ground, then reaches for your face. He pulls your bottom lip down and lets it go to watch it bounce back up. “Knees,” he whispers, gently pushing you by your shoulders to the ground. The rag he laid on the concrete for your knees is a sweet touch, all things considered. His cock is inches away from your face as he holds it between his thumb, middle, and forefingers. He presses himself to your lips, encouraging you to open your mouth. “Give it a taste,” he instructs you. “An’ you can kiss it too, if you’re feelin’ amorous.” 

You part your lips and tentatively lick the weeping slit of his thick head just once. After a moment, taking in the saltiness of his precome, you lick him a couple more times, gaining confidence quicker than you did using just your spit soaked hand on him. Bigger stripes now, using more pressure. Like Joel advised, you kiss his cock a couple times, each kiss sloppier than the last before swirling your tongue around the tip. You’re learning it all, the softness of his skin, his musky, heady taste. 

“Give me your hand,” Joel says. “Goes right here,” He wraps your hand around the base of his cock, same as before. He places one of his hands on your head, guiding you closer to him, encouraging you to take him deeper now. You do as such, sputtering and choking when you get overzealous and take him too quickly.

Joel chuckles, “Not all at once, sweetheart. Go slow. Try it again.” This time, Joel controls the pace at which you take him. He pushes himself into your mouth and senses when it becomes too much, pauses for you. He pulls his hips back, then rocks back into your mouth, building a slow, shallow pace for you to get used to. 

He’s pushing his cock deeper into your mouth. His tip teases the back of your throat as he whispers, “Little more. Be brave,” You gaze up at him, searching his eyes for some sort of approval. He nods with his brows furrowed. “Do it for me, hon.”

You allow him to fuck himself deeper in your mouth now, your eyes pricking with tears as you gag and sputter on his cock. This time, Joel doesn’t stop himself. He’s grunting, groaning, savoring the warmth of your wet, soft mouth. “So good,” he tells you before tapping your hand, reminding you to put it to use.

What you can’t reach with your mouth, you massage with your hand as you cup his balls with your other. You and Joel work in tandem, him drawing in and out of your mouth as you bob your head and flick your tongue against his shaft. Your jaw is sore with the newness of it all, and just as you’re becoming used to the thickness of his cock between your lips and on your tongue, he pauses. “M’gonna stop you now,” Joel mumbles as he pulls out of your mouth, his eyes focused on your swollen lips and how the string of saliva connected from them to his cock breaks. “S’your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhm. It’s etiquette, hon,” Joel says with a grunt, lifting you to your feet. He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your pants, pushing both them and your underwear down your legs. “Always return the favor.” Joel lifts you slightly, sitting your bare ass on the hood of his car, then pulls your pants off your legs the rest of the way. “Arms up,” he tells you. He lifts your shirt off of your body, unhooks your bra and lets it fall to your lap. You’ve never been so vulnerable, so exposed in front of someone before.  Instinctively, you cover your chest with your arms and cross your legs. 

“You’re shy,” he whispers. Joel drapes your clothing over his shoulder before reaching for your arms, removing them from your chest and placing them on either side of your body. “Stay like this,” He holds your knees next, uncrossing your legs and spreading them wide for his view. 

Joel takes in your body and admires your wet cunt, how your thick curls frame it beautifully. A shiver goes down your spine as his eyes scan the rest of your body before he holds intense eye contact with you as he folds your clothes, placing them in a neat pile next to you on his car. You watch his chest rise and fall with steady breaths as he drops to his knees, situating himself between your thighs.

He presses a sloppy kiss against your inner knee, then another on your other leg. He kisses his way up your inner thigh, nipping at your flesh and soothing the marks with his tongue. He holds your legs firmly apart, knowing your instinct is to shut them when he reaches your cunt, his hot breath fanning over your center. “Wider,” he whispers, “I gotcha.”

The once cool metal of Joel’s car is now hot and slick under your sweaty, trembling palms. Your pulse beats as you look up at the garage ceiling, lacking the courage to look at Joel between your thighs. “Relax for me,” he tells you. You try. 

You gasp when he finally begins exploring you, first his thumb parting open your folds. Adding a couple more digits, he hums in satisfaction as he finds you’re already wet, your slick glistening on his fingers. He dips one of those fingers inside of you slowly, watching how you react to his touch. You twitch and fight to keep yourself still and silent as he adds a second finger, curling it rhythmically and stroking that sweet spot inside you. 

“Oh, god,” you moan as he dives into your cunt, the soft and warm, private place between your thighs, his mouth now joining where his fingers touch. His tongue is hot and wet as he drags it through your sex, circling your clit with it. “Joel, please.”

Joel’s satisfied as he hears sounds of pleasure fall from your lips, feeling your hips bucking and grinding gently against his mouth. He sucks one fold, nips at the other as he curls his fingers inside you rhythmically. With the hand that’s not teasing your pussy, he digs his fingers into the soft flesh of your thigh. “Quit squirmin’ on my car,” he warns with a firm squeeze to your thigh, hard enough to bruise you. “Ya tryin’ to scratch her again?”

His wiry stubble drags across your skin, scratching gently against the inside of your thighs. You can feel it building up quickly, that hot, sparkling feeling deep in your core as he works you, sucks your clit between his lips. 

“Please,” you cry, the only word you can form at the moment. 

“I know, hon,” he murmurs, escalating his efforts on your pussy. Sucking, licking, curling his fingers harder. He works you through your orgasm, feeling you gush against his mouth, your arousal dripping down his fingers and pooling into the palm of his hand. Your hands fly to his scalp, twitching and jerking from the sensitivity with your fingers tugging on his curls when he licks a stripe up the seam of your cunt. 

Joel pulls away from your center with a satisfied grin, lips shiny, his facial hair damp. He rises, standing above you, and sloppily kisses your lips. You’ve never tasted your own arousal before. His strong hands find your ass cheeks, pulling you closer to where he wants you.

From there, you gasp when he slides his cock through your slick folds, rubbing thick head against your sensitive clit and watches how you react to his touch. “What do you think I’m doin’ to ya next?”

“Joel,” you whimper, your hips chasing his movements, following where his cock teases your cunt. 

“Yeah, you know what I’m doin,” he purrs. “Crossin’ it all off your list tonight.”

You tense when he notches just the head of his cock in your pussy, reaching for his arm, his shoulder, any part of him you can hold. 

“Know you’re nervous,” he says softly, rubbing circles into your thighs. “But s’just me an’ you here. Wider, hon. Spread your legs for me.”

You nod quickly, following suit and spreading your legs to accommodate him. “Like this?”

“Yeah, like that. S’perfect, hon, that’s all I need from you. C’mere,” Joel adjusts his hold on you before inching his cock into you a bit more. You’re so tight, squeezing him hard and whining through the stretch as he pushes into you further, the gradual slide inside your body causing him to grunt quietly. “Relax for me,” he groans through a strained breath, parting your insides as he’s sheathed himself inside you fully now. “Bite me f’ya need to, sweetheart. It’ll be okay. You’ll get used to it.”

It aches, but the pain dulls as Joel lets you get used to the feeling, the newness of his cock inside you. He holds you close and you take advantage of his suggestion, biting softly into the flesh of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his skin as you whimper quietly. Joel groans, his eyebrows furrowing together. “Shh,” he hushes, “You’re okay, hon. You’re doin’ alright.”

Joel slowly pulls out of you and fills you up again. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he praises as you tilt your hips, opening yourself to accept more of him. You’re humming into his neck as his cock recedes and then pushes in once more. “Eyes on me now. There it is, easy. Easy.”

You do as instructed, pulling your face away from him to meet his gaze. His sparkling brown eyes stay on yours as he pulls out of you, pushing into you slowly, deliberately. You hold onto his neck, his broad shoulders, clutching the fabric of his sweat dampened shirt as he builds a steady pace now. He holds you close to his body, one of his hands traveling up your body and groping your bouncing breasts, teasing your sensitive nipples.

“You just follow my lead,” Joel says, fucking you faster now. His fingers are pressed firmly into your waist now as he rolls his hips against yours. The pain is gone now, dissipated with his continued languid thrusts into you. You feel so full, so satisfied with his thick cock inside you, massaging your insides.

He fucks you steadily but gently, maintaining a quick rhythm. You didn’t know sex could make you feel this way, so much pleasure.  You’re moaning freely, overwhelmed with emotion, tears flowing freely down your cheeks. God, you love it, and it’s nothing but pure pleasure. 

Joel’s not oblivious to your enjoyment. He’s watching you, your face contorting, he’s listening to your moans and your cries, feeling you shiver and twitch beneath his touch and how it’s all because of him, all of your pleasure at the hands of Joel and only ever Joel. He feels a sort of carnal sense of power over this, the effect his touch has on you. You’re soft, so soft and all for him, your flesh for his hands and his teeth alone to squeeze, dig into, to bite on. 

You reach for his arm and guide his hand to your center, pressing his fingers against your clit as that familiar tightness in your gut begins to build once more. “Please,” you beg. 

“Thought this was supposed to be a deal for me. Didn’t need to hit my car f’ya needed me like this,” he taunts, laughing breathlessly. But Joel obliges, of course he obliges you. He moves his calloused fingertips in circles over your clit, coaxing out your release. “Takin’ me so good, sweetheart. Look at you, m’gonna make you come again. Makin’ out like a fuckin’ bandit, aren’t you?”

Indeed you are. It’s not long before you’re coming for him. With his ministrations on your clit, his thrusts now faster, harder, deeper, you’re coming undone for him as his name pours from your lips, long and slow like honey. With your lips parted open, you’re twitching and shuddering against him as you watch his face, letting yourself go. You whimper and moan, and your release is volcanic in the way it washes over your body so fiercely. Heavy, vivid waves of pleasure washing over you the way lava rolls down the earth. Slow, fiery, intense.

Your pulsing cunt milks Joel’s own climax, his orgasm crashing through him in such a way that he loses focus on you. His eyes screwed shut, the noises he’s making louder than he intended–what starts as a grunt turns into a moan, long and libertine as he fucks you harder than he probably should as you whimper in overstimulation. His thrusts turn harder and frenzied as he milks himself with your cunt, spurting hot ropes of his come inside you. You take everything he gives you, feeling so warm and full of his spend. 

His movements then begin to ease, slowing down some more until he eventually stills inside of you. He takes the quiet moment to check on you, holding your face in his hands as he makes sure you’re okay. Your chest heaves as he wipes your tears, but you silently nod, reassuring him that you’re alright.

With a soft grunt, he pulls out of you. He watches how your combined arousal spills on the baby blue paint of his Chevelle, then uses his thumb to push a bit of his escaped come back inside you. Such a lewd action from the man. 

Joel helps you to your feet, steadying you as you stand on shaky legs. He reaches for your clothes from the hood of his car, helping you dress yourself. “Didn’t want ‘em to get dirty,” he explains. “Everything’s covered in fuckin’ dirt and grease in here.”

“Thank you,” you smile shyly. Joel opens the garage door, the once peachy and blue sky now inky black. You didn’t realize how much time had passed. You take off back to your house, but Joel grips your bicep before you can step any further. 

 “Nuh uh,” he tuts. “Ya already hit my car, hon, you don’t wanna leave your mess on the hood now too, do ya?” Joel gestures to your combined arousal on the hood of his Chevelle, swipes his pointer finger through the mess and pushes it between your lips. Your brows furrow at the taste, that salty, heady flavor you’ve never tasted before now. “Use your tongue, sweetheart.”

“You want me…”

“Lick it up,” he instructs in a quiet voice. Joel figured he might’ve let you off too easy, seeing as how you came twice–once on his tongue and once on his cock when this was all supposed to be for him. He bends you over the hood of his car, groping your ass as he leans over your shoulder to inspect your work, making sure it’s a job well done. “Good girl,” he praises, watching you lick his car clean. When you’re done, he kisses you softly.

He walks you home, dropping you off on your doorstep. You’re not quite sure what to say, whether you should apologize again, thank him, say goodnight. Joel fills the silence for you. “Gonna teach you how to drive right one of these days. Keep you out of another mess like this one, hm?” he smirks as he kisses your cheek. “Goodnight, hon.”

If you enjoyed, please reblog, leave me a comment, and/or send an ask 🩷 your words mean the world to me and your interaction keeps me motivated to write. Love you all <3

From now on I’ll be sharing cat pics at the end of my fics. Hope you don’t mind 🐈‍⬛😻

[shotmrmiller]

need simon to be retired and living in the middle of nowhere with a car-fixing hobby, and you're pulling into his 'shop' because you were road-tripping across the country and now some funky noises are happening underneath the hood.

you tentatively walk towards the open garage, only to spot him under some run-down vehicle that has more rust than sun-faded paint, deflated tires, and a license plate that's also got rust gnawing at the edges, the numbers on it barely discernable.

you rap your knuckles gently on the weathered car, and the wheels of the creeper he's on squeak in protest under him as he rolls out to look at you, filthy gloves smearing the dust on his brow instead of wiping it away.

"err, hi. uh, i was pointed this way by some lovely folk that work in that diner down the way, and they said that you could take a look at my car."

he rises smoothly, even though his joints pop as he does, dark eyes squinting against the sun. he towers over you with broad shoulders and thick arms. a tough-as-teak country man.

you start when he speaks, deep voice echoing off of dusty walls. "they said tha', did they?" he lifts the hem of his grease-stained wife beater to wipe at the beads of sweat on his forehead, and your gaze involuntarily wanders to the thick trail of coarse, dark hair under his navel.

"what's wrong with it?"

if you knew that, you wouldn't be here, blatantly ogling him in some decrepit workshop located in a sleepy corner of the countryside. "i don't know. it's making some scary popping noises and figured that it needed to be looked at, asap."

your grimace is involuntary when he extends an oil-streaked gloved hand. you really hope he's not expecting you to-

"keys."

right. you wordlessly hand them over and walk a few steps behind him as he heads toward the front of your car. "did ya get it looked at before your trip?"

you want to snap at him, that obviously you did. you may not be some car wizard, however, you can do the bare minimum for it but he's your only hope for getting the hell out of here, so you press your tongue against the back of your teeth for a moment before answering.

"yes. i did prepare for it. got new tires, an oil change, and anything else it may have needed."

he hums at your answer, a low sound in the back of his throat, and curls his fingers under the hood and begins to feel for the release. your mind is in the gutter as your eyes linger on his sun-kissed skin, watching the tendons on his inked forearm ripple with each movement.

your mind is snapped back to reality when he mutters, "i hope ya don't think i'm doin' this for free."

"wouldn't dream of it. you don't seem the charitable type."

the latch yields under his fingertips, and the hood springs open. "i'd say i'm pretty charitable, considerin' i'm even helpin' ya with this."

your eyebrows furrow, corners of your lips pulling downward. "what, were you closed or something?"

he gives you a small smirk while his hand searches for the prop rod inside the engine bay. "do i look like a business, sweetheart?"

embarrassment burns your cheeks, and your mouth gapes unprettily as you turn around to truly take in the place. past the grease-smeared floors, there's rust blooming on the only workbench in the garage, a single red toolbox resting on the ground. there's a car jack tossed in a corner, a vibrant blue cooler by the door, and a few firearms on pegboard shelves. it looks like a simple garage. a personal one.

"oh my god," you stammer, "i'm so sorry, i just- the townsfolk, they led me to believe that you're a mechanic." how bloody mortifying.

he ducks his head under the hood, bending at the waist to lean over the engine, eyes swiftly scanning the machinery. "it's a hobby. i fix my own vehicles... and now yours, i reckon."

eventually, he turns the car on and listens to the engine roar to life before it begins to pop, standing over the open hood with thinned lips and furrowed brows.

he tells you that he can fix it, it'll just take a bit for the part to get here, obviously, so he recommends staying at a rented cabin in town for a few days— maybe even a week— and he'll give you a ride over.

he gets you there in no time, unsurprising because he drove the motorcycle far too fast— illegal, really. he helps you off the bike, your clammy hand in his much bigger, roughened one.

you rip off his helmet, pushing it into his barrel chest. "please never drive me around that fast again." he gives you a couple of pats to the shoulder, chuckling under his breath.

"unless you're plannin' on walkin' to get your car back, i can't promise tha'."

grrrreat.

(the issue was the serpentine belt, it was slightly frayed but the man kept you around for 2.5 weeks under the excuse of something taking too long, or the car being under worse condition. maybe he charges you a kidney for fixing it, and since you can't obviously pay that ridiculous amt of money, he tells you to go on a date with him. gross. or maybe he's a sane man and he just sends you on your way in 2 days time. idk. installs a gps in your car? keepin' tabs on ya cuz he plans on passing by wherever you live by complete coincidence.)

[qdrntln4]

block your ears.

pairing: lando norris x reader

genre: fluff

summary: cars are loud. lando knows that.

warnings: none i think?

wc: i didn’t count 💀

it was nice to see lando in the hospitality of the mclaren garage. even if he was still working with his engineer, knowing that he was in the same room as you was all you needed.

what you didn’t need, however, was the revving from oscar’s car right beneath them. the car was loud — a bit too loud for your liking.

every time the team started up oscar’s car again, lando’s head lifted and his eyes made his way to you. he knew you didn’t like sudden loud noises (how ironic dating an f1 driver). usually you could take the sound of the cars, but that was when you knew they were being loud. a sudden scream of an engine every 20-30 seconds is a nightmare.

when the team came over lando’s engineer’s com, he was loud enough for lando to make out certain words.

‘rev, car, countdown’

lando looked up to you, making instant eye contact from across the room. he lifted his hands up to his head, making the gesture that saved you from a heart attack every time.

“block your ears.”

by the time your hands were covering the sides of your face, oscar’s car had been started up for the last time, the vehicle now sitting in a neutral rev.

you looked back up at lando, mouthing a ‘thank you’ before he a blew a kiss your way. he then continued his talk with his engineer.

oh, what would you do without him?

a/n: hi guys!! this is a short one i’m sorry, the idea was in my head as soon as i saw the gif on pinterest and i didn’t want to write it later 😭 i hope you all enjoyed it tho!!

[number1mingyustan]

hihi !! I love your fics sm. <3

If you're taking requests can you do Mingyu as a biker bf? What if you wanna learn how to ride a bike and he says "you should practice on the biker first." OMFGGG IM CRAZY. Love you

boyfriend!mingyu x fem!reader

warnings: established relationship, cursing, kissing, explicit smut, oral (f+m), sixty-nine, unprotected sex, creampie, riding, light breast play, multiple orgasms

_______________________________________________

Mingyu nibbles on his bottom lip as his eyes remain fixated on the easel in front of him. He's concentrating, hand moving slowly as he drags the brush along the canvas.

You smile to yourself, feeling your heart warm at the sight of him.

Painting is not his thing.

Even with all the effort he seems to be putting into his painting, his lines are crooked and a little messy. He knows this too, he's never really been one for the arts.

Painting is one of your hobbies and always has been. You're more of the artistic type and Mingyu well... Mingyu likes his bikes. He's got more of a grunge sort of vibe that consists of leather jackets, obnoxious motorcycles, and cigarettes.

You were polar opposites. You preferred your quiet life in the arts, sundresses, walks in flower fields, and painting. You've noticed the way he's softened up since you two met, you're sure it's the effect you've had on him.

He sticks his tongue out, drawing his last two strokes before dropping the paintbrush into the cup. "Done."

You turn your head, completely facing him. You eyes scan over the painting in front of him and your smile grows. "Gyu you've gotten so good at this."

He grins at the praise. "Learned from the best."

The painting in front of him is simple, a landscape of a beach sunset. There's not nearly as much detail as the reference photo in front of you two, but it's undeniably solid work, especially for a beginner like your boyfriend.

He leans over, planting a kiss onto your cheek. His eyes can't help but drift to your painting as he does so.

"Oh wow," His jaw slacks open.

He admires your painting. Even though the two of you painted the same thing, yours is exponentially better. He loves how talented you are, and you never fail to impress him.

________________

When Mingyu comes home the next evening, he expects to see you. You're usually in the living room or the bedroom. He searches the house for you, checking every room to no avail.

He frowns. He saw your car parked out front, so he knows you're here.

A loud sound suddenly catches his attention. He makes his way toward the source of the sound, walking downstairs into the garage.

"Fuck!" You exclaim, racing to the aid of the bike.

You struggle to hold the heavy vehicle up as it remains tilted inside the garage. Your boyfriend saves the day, rushing to your side and helping you to lift the bike up to its proper stature.

"Sorry," You apologize quickly. "I swear I was being careful!"

Your words are muffled. He looks at you with confusion written over his face. You're wearing black leggings and a tight-fitting black zip up. It's unusual attire for you.

Not to mention his entirely large helmet is covering your head.

"What are you doing?" He asks, raising an eyebrow at you.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You say.

"What?" He asks.

You pull the oversized helmet off of your head and place it under your arm. You huff out.

"I wanna learn how to ride it," You move your hair out of your face. "I was trying to surprise you."

"You hate bikes, babe," He lets out a breathy laugh, taking the helmet out of your hands.

"I've had a change of heart," You insist.

He raises an eyebrow. "Why so suddenly?"

"Well... I don't know. When we were painting it made me realize how much you've embraced my hobbies and stuff. I wanna embrace the stuff you like too," You explain. "So teach me.... please?"

Oh you're adorable, He thinks to himself.

"That's very sweet Y/n," He grins. "But it's okay."

You cross your arms over your body. "But.."

"If you really wanna get into my hobbies, we can find another one baby," He kisses your forehead. "But taking my bike is extremely dangerous and it's probably good that I caught you."

"I know," You say.

You lean against the bike, staring at the vehicle with a glint of sadness behind your eyes. You trace your fingers along the metal of the bike, admiring your boyfriend's precious vehicle.

He places the helmet down. "You know, if you wanna learn that bad, you should practice on the biker first."

It takes a second for his words to settle into your brain. You lean against the bike and raise an eyebrow. "Gyu?"

He walks closer to you, wrapping his arms around your waist. He pulls you in close. You can feel his breath fanning over your skin, causing goosebumps to raise. His lips press against the shell of your ear.

"Come upstairs," He whispers against your ear. "I'll teach you whatever you want to know."

You intertwine your fingers with his. He pulls your body back into the house and leads you upstairs.

"You're so cute," He smiles. He presses his lips to yours. "I love doing the things you love.... love you." He says between kisses.

He lifts you up and carries you into his bedroom. He places your body down on the bed and pulls off his shirt. His toned body is exposed, muscles bulging beneath his warm skin as he looks at you with hungry eyes.

His back meets the bed with a small thump and he pulls your body on top of him. Your hips meet his and he lets out a soft groan. You pull off your own shirt and drop it onto the ground. You grind against his hips slowly. He unzips your jacket and pulls it off your body.

His hand snakes around the back of your neck and he pulls you into a passionate kiss. He moans against your lips as you continue to grind against his hardening cock.

You can feel him growing beneath you. His cock swells in the confines of his jeans, causing you to moan as you grind down on his growing length. Heat rushes between your thighs and the aching need for pleasure grows in your body.

You pull away from the heated kiss and sit up. You pull your shirt over your head and Mingyu sits up too. He kisses up your stomach and continues to grind against you needily as you unhook your bra. You let it fall and his lips immediately travel to your breasts.

He holds you by your hips as his lips wrap around your nipple. He sucks on your skin, ensuring to give both your breasts the same amount of attention. Your skin burns at the feeling of his touch. Be it his lips on your chest or his hands on your waist, it ignites something in you.

But as much as you love it, you quickly grow impatient. You lift your hips and pull your underwear and leggings off in one go. You toss them and start undoing Mingyu's black jeans.

"C'mre," He says, pulling at your legs.

He lifts your legs and flips you over so he can taste you. He wraps your legs around his head and immediately starts sucking on your clit.

"Fuck.." You moan out.

Your grip on his jeans quickly grows weak as pleasure clouds your senses. You try to undo the buttons, but the feeling of his tongue on you is highly distracting.

He sucks on your clit, occasionally lapping his tongue through your folds. The pleasure builds in the pit of your stomach quickly. You're finding it difficult to do anything, squirming and grinding against his face.

He holds his hands on either side of your thighs, holding you in place as he devours you. He moans against you, nearly enjoying it almost as much as you are.

You finally get him undressed and return the favor. You take his hard cock in your hand, stroking his length and spreading the precum from his leaking tip.

He moans against you again, allowing his eyes to fall shut as relief washes over him. He keeps his focus on you, pushing two of his fingers into your soaked hole.

You take his cock into your mouth, moaning around his length as you feel his fingers fill you up. He sucks your clit and his digits pump into you, and the vibrations from his moaning quickly have you nearing the edge.

His cock repeatedly hits the back of your throat as you stroke his length, bobbing your head to make him feel equally as good as you do.

You find down against his face with little to no coordination. Your hips move desperately, chasing your incoming orgasm as your saliva coats the entire length of his cock.

He curls his fingers into you and pumps them at a faster pace. His face is coated with your arousal and he slurps it up gladly, wrapping his lips around your clit and circling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

You lift your head, crying out as your orgasm overwhelms you. You grind against his face and fingers as you cum, continuing to drip onto his face.

"Hah-shit," You moan out.

His cock still remains in the grip of your hand, leaking more precum as he tastes you on his tongue.

When you come down from your high, his hands are quickly on your body. He pulls your body flush against his, kissing you sloppily and needily.

He is so obsessed with you and everything about you. His hands wander along your skin, tracing over every inch of your body gently. He lays on his back, pulling you back on top of him without breaking the kiss.

You're the one to pull away, lifting your hips on his lap. He leans back, allowing you to take over.

You sink down onto his length, groaning at the stretch of his cock. He holds you by the hips, guiding you down on his cock. The warmth of your pussy envelopes him perfectly, dripping down his length as you accommodate his length.

"So good baby," He moans.

Your eyes are screwed shut as you sink down, only tightening as he fills you up bit by bit. You gasp out once your hips meet, feeling the entirety of his length inside of you.

"Fuck...holy fuck–" You grip the bedsheets.

You start moving your hips slowly, still getting used to the feeling of fullness. He's patient with you, guiding your hips with soft hands and gentle movements.

You start to pick up a steady rhythm, lifting your hips and sinking down onto his length. You roll your hips with each movement, allowing his cock to fill you up and reach deep into you.

It feels so fucking good.

He watches you with love and lust clouding his eyes. His gaze is locked in on you, admiring how beautiful you look right now. Your mouth hangs open as loud moans pass through your lips.

Your body is dripping with sweat and your tits are bouncing in his face every time you lift your hips and sink back down onto his length. The stretch of pussy is addictive, sending waves of pleasure through his cock and entire body.

He sits up, resting his hand on the small of your back. Your hands wrap around his back, nails digging into his skin as your chests press together.

He lifts his hips, matching your pace as he fucks himself into you. You cry out, lips pressed against his shoulder. The feeling is intense and addictive and incredibly intimate.

His cheeks are flushed red and sweat glistens down his face and abs. His hair falls perfectly on his face and you can't help but admire him. His mouth remains in a small 'O' shape, allowing small moans and grunts and groans of pleasure to ring in your ears.

"Fuck baby," He moans. "I'm close."

His head tilts back, exposing his adam's apple to your line of sight. He continues to thrust into you, cock pressing against the sweet spot deep inside of you with every movement of his hips.

"Hah-me too," You pant.

The pleasure continues to grow, eventually overwhelming your entire body. You cry out and your body falls limp against him. You bury your face in the crook of his neck, moaning and breathing heavily as you cum around his cock.

Your pussy throbs, tightening around his length and bringing about his own orgasm. His hips still and his cock swells as he fills you with his load.

He lets out a long groan as he pumps his load into you. Your chests rise and fall in unison as you breathe heavily and come down from your orgasms. You lift your head and cup his cheeks with your soft hands.

His vision clears and his eyes meet yours. He flashes you a grin. "Hi baby."

You return his expression with a shy smile. "Hi Gyu."

He presses his forehead against yours and plants a kiss on your lips. "I love you, pretty girl."

"Love you more," You grin.

"Impossible," He smiles.

His hands hold your hips as he lifts you up. You wince at the emptiness and and lays you down on the bed. He presses a kiss onto your bellybutton and stands to his feet.

He disappears into the bathroom and you hear the bathwater running. He comes back a few minutes later and picks you up bridal style. You wrap your arms around him happily and he carries you to the tub. He slips into the warm water behind you, leaving soft kisses on your shoulder and back.

"Baby," he says.

"Hmm?" You quirk up.

"We can take a ride tonight if you want, on the bike," He proposes. "Together."

You perk up. "Really?"

"Yeah, but you can't be scared," He grins.

"I'm not!"

He kisses your shoulder. "Okay baby, whatever you say. Just hold onto me tight and I won't let you fall and teach your a few things. Sound good?"

You tilts your head all the way back so your eyes meet his. You smile. "Okay. I love you Gyu."

"I love you too."

_______________________________________________

© number1mingyustan - Do not repost without permission.

[gloomwitchwrites]

By the Belt (3 of 4)

Mechanic John "Soap" MacTavish x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: married couple, oral sex (female receiving), unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Part of the Imagines & What If Series

Soap needs a distraction, and you’re going to give it to him.

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // by the belt masterlist

It’s Sunday. John’s shop is closed on Sunday.

Even so, he’s always working on something, his hands unable to lean into idleness for a moment. They desire something to hold, to tinker and learn and explore.

It’s the late afternoon, and you stand in John’s personal garage located at the back of your shared property. His actual shop is nearby, just a mile or so down the road. This is sacred space. The place he goes to work on all sorts of personal projects. You are off to the right of him beside his knees. John is on his back, partially submerged beneath a lifted car.

That always makes you nervous, even though you know he’s careful about his safety. You always imagine the machine keeping the car aloft breaking, sending the vehicle down to crush him. The car itself is vintage, a special project that John has been working on for months. The paint is stripped and its mostly bare bones.

Beneath the car, you hear John sigh heavily. He rolls out from under the car, the wheels on the rolling bed squeaking as he does so. When he notices you standing there, he immediately grins.

“Hello, wife,” he croons, sitting up and draping his forearms over his bent knees.

“Hello, husband,” you reply, matching his tone. His smile widens and a warmth blooms in your cheeks. “Thought you could use a break.”

Grinning, he pushes up to standing, crossing his arms over his chest. “What kind of break?”

With boldness in your blood, you reach out and slide your fingers in the belt loops of his dirty jeans. John stumbles forward, nearly knocking into you. That grin briefly transforms into surprise before settling into a sultry smirk.

“Oh, aye. I could use a break.” He leans in, your mouths meeting in a lovingly gentle kiss that warms you right down to your toes. When he breaks apart, that lovely grin is back. “But I’d hate to dirty your pretty skin with my hands.”

You tug on his belt again, smiling. “What if I want to get dirty?”

John laughs, his stained, oiled fingers hovering just shy of your skin. “You sure, love? Because I can do that.” Your answer is a brief yank on his belt. John shakes his head. “I warned you.”

You unthread your fingers and John makes a turn-around gesture. You comply, eagerness in your bones.

“Bend yourself over that table.” John points directly in front of you. It’s a workbench. There are a few tools but they’re off to the side, leaving the middle completely open.

Stepping up to it, you place your hands flat on the surface, bending forward, the angle forcing you up on your toes. John leaves you there. Lingering. Hanging. You have no idea if he’s watching you and enjoying the sight, or if he’s simply turned around and walked right out of the garage.

But you have your answer when John’s voice floats toward you.

“Lift up your dress,” he instructs, some rasp in his tone. He does not touch you, but you feel his presence. He’s close. You swear that you can feel his heat of the backs of your thighs as you reach back with both hands and lift your sundress up to your hips.

You are exposed to him. Utterly bare.

“Fuck. You dirty girl,” croons John, and you know exactly what he sees—or rather, what he doesn’t. “All bare under there. You knew what you were doing. Didn’t you?”

You did. You absolutely did.

Still, John does not touch. You hear the soft crinkle of his jeans as he goes down on his knees behind you, his warm breath brushing lightly against your pussy as he exhales.

“Spread for me a bit.” You shift your legs apart slightly. “Good,” he praises. “Like that.”

The moment you’re in position, John’s tongue parts your pussy with a slow stroke. He begins at your clit, moves upward, dipping the tip of his tongue into your sex before retreating. His hands rest on the table on either side of you, unmoving. Staying true to his word, John isn’t dirtying your pretty skin, but doesn’t mean he might not lose some control and touch you anyway.

Really, that’s what you want after all.

Using just his tongue, John traces circles, swirls up and down your sex, moves in languid motions that have you guessing. Every nerve is burning up like a sparkler. Your husband is teasing you, and fucking enjoying that he’s doing so.

He leaves nothing untouched, nothing untasted. Whimpering, John lightly kisses your clit, teasing it with the tip of his tongue. It’s not nearly enough.

“Stay still,” he chuckles, when your hips buck with wanton irritation. “Let me finish my meal.”

John’s mouth promptly returns, and you know you’re done. Utterly done. Brain dead. Air rapidly leaving a balloon. He sucks on your clit, then penetrates you with his tongue, only to do it all again. With each, he sucks just a bit harder, bordering on painful pleasure.

The next one has you nearly coming off the table.

“I’m gonna fuck you after this, love,” groans John. “Bloody hell, you’re sweet.”

He dives in and your nails dig into the tabletop, your voice cracking as you orgasm. You feel his smile against your flesh before his mouth disappears from it, only to be replaced by the familiar sound of unzipping jeans.

The head of his cock presses at your entrance but doesn’t penetrate. John lightly guides the head back and forth through your slickness, the sound of it echoing loudly in the garage.”

“Will you be a good girl and take it?”

You nod enthusiastically, strands of your hair shifting to stick against the back of your neck. “Yes,” you breathe. “Please.”

With a low moan, John starts to press in, your body not resisting, only wanting him inside. You both groan loudly as he bottoms out. Adjusting, John places his hands firmly above your head, anchoring himself.

He breathes deep, and reaches for your wrists, one at a time, trapping them against the table. John rolls his hips, thrusts lightly against you. It’s the perfect angle. You feel everything.

John increases the pace. Those light, almost shallow thrusts become languid and long, hitting deep when your bodies come together. From there, his thrusts turn sharp, a smacking pace that stings your flesh. You hardly care. John’s cock inside you is heaven, the thing just to ease the lust in your bones.

Every stroke is lovely, sending shivers of pleasure through your limbs. Your little moans become breathy exhales, your words leaving your lips silently, delivered only to the quietness of the air.

John’s head dips, his lips brushes over your exposed shoulder as he continues to thrust. “Gonna come inside you, love.”

It is not a question, and you will always say yes even if he asks.

His last few thrusts shake the table, the legs scaping against the concrete just before John holds his hips flush to yours. The groan as he finishes comes from deep within his throat. It’s a primal sound.

Glancing up, you watch as his grip on your wrists shift. He’s left some of that grease behind from working on the car on your skin. He said he wouldn’t mar it, but he couldn’t resist, and that feels like a victory.

John presses a kiss to your shoulder, and you tilt your head in his direction, seeking his gaze, even as he keeps himself inside you.

“Good break?” you murmur.

John chuckles. “Oh, aye.” He shrugs, nods toward your wrists. “But we need to get clean.”

taglist:

@glassgulls @km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @spicyspicyliving @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @aykxz98 @kayden666 @36namey @miss-mistinguett @keiva1000 @cherryofdeath @pertinentpostmortem @enfppuff @berarenado @saoirse06 @ninman82 @no-oneelsebutnsu @thewulf @hayleybarnesx @lxblm @ferns-fics @ooldcardigan @beebeechaos @enarien @sw33tsnow @kessi-21 @makayla-666 @lifes-project @burn1ngw00d @heeheehoohoohahahihi @lulurubberduckie @ravenpoe67 @jade1605 @miaraei @contractedcriteria @lovely-ateez @gingergirl06

[rileyslibrary]

Hello! I just wanted to say that your fics have such a distinct feel that it makes it feel like a cinematic masterpiece so moving as each sentence is full of detail and care it’s INSANE

Could you do one where the 141 as a whole are able to go on leave for a few months but reader doesn’t really have a place to go? Like due to thier participation in the military their family has essentially cut contact with them and the military has been a placeholder for their home-life—how would Ghost react?

Once again I love your works and hope you have an amazing day ‼️

The Log Cabin: Pack Light

A/N: Hi, anon! Thank you for your kind words. Here’s the story; enjoy! :)

———————————————————————

You’re at the base’s garage, squatting on the roof of a battle-worn 1994 Land Rover Wolf, welding a rack that had been blown apart during your last mission. It’s quite admirable how these vehicles can withstand anything coming their way and still stand strong after so many years.

How long are you going to stay strong? The sparks dance around you as you manipulate the welding torch, wishing there was a similar way to mend your scars and those you’ve hurt in the past with your decisions.

But these things are far more complex than welding metal; you can’t mend fractured relationships with mere tools. It takes understanding and empathy—qualities that seem foreign to those once close to you.

Or maybe they’re right, and you’re unworthy of their forgiveness…

You close the oxygen and fuel torch valves, lift your welding mask, and wait for the molten metal to cool. You assess the seams and sigh; it needs more work. You put the welding mask back on, reignite the torch, and continue.

As the heat emanates from the torch, glowing around your gloved hands, it suddenly flickers and sputters before its flame eventually dies out. Baffled, you lift the torch in your hands and shake it. You turn towards the valve, only to see Ghost standing beside it, holding the handle. He’s dressed in civilian clothes, though he still wears his mask and carries a rucksack over his shoulder.

“I was calling out for you, but you couldn’t hear me over the...” he trails off, pointing at the torch.

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant,” you say through the mask, “this thing is a pain to fix.”

Ghost looks at the rack, then back at you. “Does it need to be fixed now?” He asks.

“It does.” You insist, not wanting to disclose the actual reason.

“Liar.”

Your eyebrows shoot up from behind the welding mask. “Excuse me?”

“You expect me to believe that while the rest of the team is on leave and doesn’t require that vehicle, you absolutely need to fix it.” He says.

You look at the torch and then back at him. “I must do it so it’s ready when you guys return.”

“When you guys return.” He repeats. “So, you’re not leaving.”

You forcefully turn to face him. “I am leaving.” You assert.

“Oh yeah?” He provokes you. “Where are you going?”

“None of your business, Lt.”

“See?” He says and lifts both hands, “You’re lying.”

You lower your head and throw the torch onto the roof. “What do you want me to say, huh?” You murmur, “What?”

“The truth,” he replies, “and take that bloody mask off while you’re at it.”

“Why should I take it off?” You sneer and point at his mask. “You wear yours all the time.”

“You can see my eyes, though, can’t you?” He explains and points to his face. He gestures with his head towards you. “Let me see yours,” he commands.

You roll your eyes and lift the mask. He removes his balaclava in return.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” He asks. “What exactly are you trying to fix?”

‘My relationship with my family,’ you think to yourself and feel your face getting warmer than before when the wielding flames were burning around you.

He stands there with one thumb tucked under the rucksack’s strip. He’s waiting for an answer—a proper, truthful answer.

“This is my home.” You whisper, shrugging and lowering your head.

“What about your family?” He asks, and you shake your head, tears start filling your eyes.

“Any friends?” He asks again, this time softer.

You give him another negative shake of the head, which causes the tears to run down your face. You quickly wipe your cheeks with your gloves.

He removes his rucksack from his shoulder, drops it to the ground and puts his hands on his waist.

“Have you tried talking to them?” He asks.

“I did,” you reply, “but they don’t want anything to do with me. I disgust them, and I’m not proud either...”

“Nobody’s proud.” He admits and puts one hand on the roof’s rack, “But somebody has to do what we do.”

You sniff and rub your nose. “See? That’s why I’m here, fixing that damn rack; somebody has to do it.” You explain. “I don’t have a choice.”

“Not necessarily.” He shrugs. “Not all of us will go see family or friends; Price is travelling to the Caribbean alone as we speak, and I’m off to Scotland.”

“With Soap?”

“Fuck no!” He yells, and a chuckle escapes his lips. “He has no idea I’m going there.”

Your lips curl up, and he returns your smile. He knocks on the vehicle’s roof twice and opens his mouth to say something, but he hesitates and stops. You decide to break the silence.

“Thank you for listening to me.” You whisper.

He bites his bottom lip and pats the roof once more.

“Wanna come with me?” He asks.

Your face warms up again but for a whole different reason.

“T-to Scotland?!” You ask, surprised.

Ghost scratches his cheek and nods. “Yeah,” he replies, “it’s a small cabin in the woods—it has a single bed, an outdoor toilet, and we’ll have to hunt for food. But it has a beautiful pond for swimming and plenty of hiking trails.”

“Wow, wow, wow, one bed?!” You shout, throwing your hands up, “That’s a bit too forward, don’t you think, Lt.?”

“Come on!” He smirks, “As if we haven’t experienced that before. We’ll make it work.”

You look at him, and he returns your gaze. You’re grateful for his offer, but doubt still lingers.

“Thank you, Lt.,” you reply, “but I need to finish that rack.”

“Bollocks!” He shouts and smiles. “How long will it take you?”

“That’s not what I mean-”

“How long?” He repeats.

“Simon..”

He drops the smile and looks you straight in the eyes.

“I’m serious,” he whispers.

“You’re just offering out of pity.” You speculate, and he throws his head up, letting out a sharp chuckle.

“Very bold of you to think I’d invite you out of mere pity.” He says. “I thought you also had plans; that’s why I didn’t offer before. I’m doing it because I found the opportunity.”

You look at him, contemplating his words, then shake your head.

“Thanks,” you say, “maybe next time.”

He picks up his rucksack and begins walking towards the garage’s exit.

“We’re leaving in an hour!” he shouts as he walks towards the door.

“Ghost! “

“Pack light!”

———————————————————————

Part 2 this way ->

[elliescumslvt]

RUIN ME - Ellie Williams

Mechanic AU Ellie Williams x AFAB (assigned female at birth) reader. There is no use of Y/N, or a chosen name for the reader. 2.5k words

Content Includes: oral sex/cunnilingus (reader receiving), kissing, cursing, pet names (pretty, baby, ex), sub!reader + dom!ellie, and overall vivid descriptions of sexual activity.

A/N: I apologize for how long it took me to put out another one-shot. I hope to start writing more again soon. :D Please comment with any suggestions about how I can improve my writing, or characters!

My fingers grip the wheel as I turn into the garage. For the third time this month, my car has an issue. First was my brakes, then my spark plugs needed replacing, and now my oil needed refilling. I push down on the brakes with aggravation as I park the car. I twist the key out of the ignition with one hand, and my other flies to the door handle. My fingers curl around the plastic, and yank on it. I kick the door open, and slide my body out of the vehicle. An exasperated breath leaves my lips as I now push the door back into place. 

My feet work quickly on the dirtied concrete floor. I could hear grunting from across the garage, and assume it was my familiar mechanic. My previously furrowed brows lift as I walk around a car to see a woman with auburn brown hair. The person in question pushes themself out from underneath a Honda, and stands up. They brush off any dust collected onto their coveralls before looking down. 

“Hello? What's got you all riled up?” Her lip jerks into a smirk as she peers at my frustrated state with amusement. As I notice this, my eyes wander around the rest of her face. Freckles litter her skin in a way which almost contours her nose. Her hair is half pulled back into a small ponytail, and is ruffled around her forehead. Strands stick out in random directions, only effectively catching my attention for a moment. What distracts me more is the woman's striking sage eyes, and pink cracked lips. Overall she looks scruffy, but in an oddly appealing way. 

“I’m sorry-” My voice slices through the air with an intensity which wasn’t intended, “Is Jesse here? My car needs an oil fill.” Unbeknownst to me, my eyes were morphing into slits as I glared at the mechanic. Additionally my lips are pouty with anger, and my hips tilt with a similar sass. 

The woman only chuckles, and rips off a glove. My sight follows her hand as she wipes her forehead. “Sorry, but Jesse isn’t here today. I’d be happy to tell him that-” She sticks her hand out to point at me, as if to ask for my name.

“Doesn’t matter. I can’t wait until tomorrow.” I am fast to respond. Both hands of mine dart to my head, and push against my temples. I rub them in hopes to soothe my increasingly growing anxiety. 

The mechanic observes my stressed state, and takes a step forward. She rests a hand on my upper arm, and pushes the limb down gently. “No need to get your panties into a twist, ey?” Her tone is still one of amusement as she speaks, but now includes a hint of false comfort. 

Her eyes sparkle as her thumb starts to rub rhythmically on my forearm. 

“Lucky for you, I’m always happy to do extra work for pretty girls.” I watch as her lips stretch into a prideful smile. 

All of my facial muscles quickly relax, and my mouth gapes open slightly. “Oh uh, thank you-” My eyes wander down her coveralls and rest upon an embroidered name tag, “Ellie.” In comparison to just moments ago, my voice is a lot softer. I suddenly feel awkward, and apologetic for my previously uncalled for attitude. 

“Always my pleasure.” Ellie’s tongue passes over her lip as she talks. Her eyes momentarily glint with something devilish. She begins to walk over to my car, determination laced in her steps. Her short hair sways with the wind and I watch it intently as we cross the cement. 

I lean against my headlights as Ellie reaches down to grab the car hood edge. As she lifts it, I watch her muscles contort under the pressure. I shield my eyes immediately from the sight. However, my efforts prove fruitless. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her hand dive deep into the car front. I suck my lip to be between my teeth, and grind down on the flesh. Thoughts run wild in my head, and I curse internally. 

After a few moments, Ellie stands up straight. She lets out a heavy sigh, and stares at the engine with a perplexed expression. “The problem is definitely not your oil.” She confirms my growing suspicions with a solemn tone.

This time I curse aloud, and my lip returns to its previous position. If I wasn’t so enthralled with my self pity, I would have noticed Ellie tracing my mouth with an enticing look. “I can’t deal with this shit.” I mumble under my breath. My eyes search the floor frantically as I try to think of a solution. When my mind turns up blank, I look to the mechanic with extreme plead. 

“It’s alright..” She responds in a soothing tone before taking a short pause. Her brows lift almost as if she had a realization. “Let me give you a distraction” Ellies’ tone switches to something more sultry and all promising. 

I inspect her demeanor for a minute while I try to find the underlying meaning of her proposal. Her pupils are swollen and her irises sparke. The hands which had been on the vehicle now shake at her sides with anticipation. “What.. What do you mean?” I can not help to hide the intrigue in my voice. 

Her smile grows with a newfound confidence from my words. She moves fast, fueled by a secret determination. Soon enough, the car hood is slammed shut and she begins to pat the red aluminum. “C’mere pretty.” The words pass through her curved lips naturally, and cause a chill to pass over my spine.

I take a hesitant step forward, and slowly turn my body around. I use my hands to push down on the hood, which lifts me up. Ellies’ hands fly to my waist, and she assists me. Once I am sat, the mechanic inches closer to me. My legs are forced to spread open to allow her to stand between them. Surprisingly, her limbs never leave my form despite my stable condition. My face muscles lift into a shocked expression, and I’m left speechless.

“I have been non stop thinking about this ever since you walked your pretty ass over to me.” Ellie admits with a smug face. Her hands start to rub up and down over my hips, and a digit catches on my clothing. I watch her eyes trail over my curves and up to my awaiting face. 

I am practically frozen in a state of shock. My face undoubtedly exposes my uncertainty, though whether Ellie saw and chose to ignore it or was too ravished with me is unknown. In a pathetic attempt to speak, my mouth gapes open slightly. My company notices this in an instant, but only chuckles at my struggling. “Do you want me to stop? Because if not, you should know I only intend to ruin you.” She talks in such a sensual and commanding way that I cannot stop the groan that escapes me. 

At this, Ellie suddenly snaps. Her body pushes against mine and her mouth greets my lips. I am momentarily unmoving, but as her tongue runs along my bottom lip my consciousness slides back into place. I reciprocate her desperation as our lips slide together. Saliva soon coats our skin, only allowing us to kiss more effectively. My lips part open to gasp as a hand snakes around my neck, stabilizing me. Ellie uses her current height advantage as she pulls backwards to crane my neck. Our heads are essentially parallel as we collide. Her forgotten hand abruptly lands on my chest. She now gropes the fatty skin through fabric, her fingers applying rhythmical pressure. This entices a groan to rumble in my held throat. 

Our mouths never leave each other as she lifts a leg. A knee ends up between the middle of my thighs, but doesn’t move any closer to my core. Thoughtless in the kiss, I happily accept the bony intrusion. Ellie leans her body daringly harsher on mine, which forces my legs to spread even further. My hips allow this stretch, though it stings and is unfamiliar. I whine against the car enthusiast's lips. Our skin pleasantly vibrates against each other, and this time coaxes a moan from Ellie. Her tongue returns to my entrances, and pokes at it impatiently. As soon as my foggy brain senses this, my mouth moves to provide an entryway. The damp muscle presses against the fleshy roof, before the tip licks at it. I struggle to verbalize my pleasure since a hand is still wrapped tightly around my neck. Only weak guttural shaking presents itself. When Ellie feels this, she tightens her digits to squeeze even harder. 

Without warning, a knee shoves against my pulsing core. The sheer contrast of temperature in the skin creates an odd nerve rattling sensation. Her knee digs deeper before starting the move up and down. The polyester of her coveralls rubs against my thin clothing article. My thoughts become clouded with dirty sin.

Lost in pleasure, I lose momentum in the kiss. Ellie struggles to keep up the arousing clash of our lips alone. With a frustrated grumble, she pulls her head away from mine. Eyes flooded with lust glare at mine. “Can’t even handle my knee, Baby?” My cunt throbbing intensifies at her taunting words. “Such a pussy drunk whore.” She spits. I am not only shocked at the harsarity of her words, but also the reaction of my body. The degradation only adds to my overflowing pleasure. 

The combination of friction against my core and Ellies’ voice lures a loud whimper. A beating force in my groin becomes intoxicatingly present. I grind my hips down against her knee in desperation, my ass sliding along the car hood. As if overwhelmed by my pathetic display, Ellies' head falls into the crook of my neck. She lets out low grunts as she continues to grind her knee into me. Her lips are so close to my ears that I swear I am able to feel my drums quaking. They shake against my inner flesh, and rattle my mind. I am so bombarded with pleasing sensations that my eyes squeeze and I cry out into the garage. 

Her hand groping my breast falls off, and lands on the hood. She flexes her fingers before using the arm to steady herself. Now her leg thrusts are much faster and reach deeper between my legs. Soft cracked lips press against the skin under my ear. I squirm beneath Ellie, and my jaw goes slack, no longer preventing myself from expressing my bliss. “I… I’m-” My brain cannot fathom to form words as my nerves are being inflicted with such delight. 

“Aw, are you close?” Ellie teases. She speaks through low laughter, and the expulsion of air blows onto my neck. 

My core tightens with ecstasy. Filthy nothings leave me as I grow even closer to bliss than before. I can feel my arousal soak through the fabric of my pants and onto Ellie’s. Just as I am about to snap, Ellie’s leg retreats from between my thighs. She presses a feather light kiss on my neck pulse, before pulling away.

She watches my face contort into a distraught expression. A boisterous chuckle echoes throughout the garage as the mechanic tosses her head back. “I couldn’t end this so soon, could I?” Her lips morph into a taunting smile, and her head tilts slightly to the side. I frown in dismay at her obvious attempt to play innocent. 

There is a soft thud as she sets her foot onto the tar. A hand then slowly moves toward my face, and cups it. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of you.” Ellie coos, her voice contradictingly soft in comparison to before. As she speaks, her knees start to bend. My eyes widen as I watch her slowly go down to crouch. Her face is now directly between my trembling thigh muscles, which slightly hang off the hood of the car. I can not bring myself to respond, as I am so shocked. Based on her previous statements, I anticipated Ellie to quickly get me off before fixing my car. However, that was everything but her intentions.

Rough hands travel to my waist, and experienced fingers work quickly to unbutton my pants. Her green eyes are narrowed into concentrated slits as she diligently unclothes me. Soon my pants are discarded somewhere on the cold flooring, my panties following. Her gaze twists into something more sinister as she stares at my dampened core. My folds glisten under the harsh overhead lights, and my clit is pink and throbbing. She observes my hole clenching around the air, and her lips turn into a frown. 

“El-” Just as I begin to say her name, Ellie’s face plants itself against my sex. Her tongue hungrily laps at my core, and her eyes flutter close as she admires the taste. On the contrary, my eyes grow wider. I pant out a curse, and my hands snake down into her hair. My fingers greedily pull at her auburn strands, pathetically attempting to pull her even closer. Abruptly, her muscle starts to drag up and down my folds. It gathers my juices before plunging inside of me. I moan at the impure sight of Ellie eating me out while I am sat atop my car. 

Her hands push down on my thighs, and pull them together. They cage her head in, though she seems to enjoy it. I highly doubt her ability to breathe, but she doesn’t seem to flinch. On the contrary, my entire body is shaking with delight. I cannot help but tighten my hold on her hair and yank her even closer. I don’t just need her against me, but enveloping my whole being. 

As my brain shivers with delight, it begins to dangerously wonder. If anyone were to stumble into the garage, they would be met with certainly a sight. One woman sat up on a car hood while another kneels before her and pleasures her. 

Ellie’s tongue works hard to bring me to my climax. My moans echo against the concrete walls. I suddenly feel her hum against me, which vibrates my wet folds. My core tightens and loosens uncomfortably, which causes my eyes to squeeze shut. 

“Come on, Baby. Cum on my face.” Ellie pulls her face just far enough from my sex to mumble. She speaks in such a soothing tone, that I feel I must comply. My orgasm washes over me, a slow calm wave. My nerves tingle underneath my skin as the sensation passes through. Heavy pants are the only sound being emitted from Ellie or I. Her eyes are wide and focused as she watches me.

 Once the climax has almost entirely run its course, Ellie finally draws her attention away from my lower body. Our eyes meet and we share a soft silent conversation. There is no doubt in my mind, and in hers, that I will be coming back to the garage again soon.

[xzaddyzanakinx]

Missed Me?

Final part for real this time, no cliffhanger I swear!!

Stepdad!Anakin Skywalker x femme reader

Warnings: none, fluff and sweetness

Info: obi-wan loves his brother; even if he does occasionally want Anakin to double over from a swift punch to the gut. Satine is a lawyer btw

“Sweetheart.” Anakin speaks low and steady over the phone. “I need you to listen to me.”

“What? What’s wrong Ani?” Your response laced with worry.

“Deadbolt the doors, make sure the garage is padlocked okay?” He said sternly, so you immediately did as you were told, switching the call to speakerphone.

“Anakin what is going on?” You demanded.

“Sweet girl, your mom knows okay? She took the Camaro and left me here with divorce papers.” He said calmly.

“You’re fucking joking.” You gasped. “She stole your car? Well I’ll come get you!” You started to rush to the door when he sternly told you no.

“I called my brother, he’s coming to get me. Satine is doing us a big favor and drafting up some paperwork. The house, my car and your car are under my name anyway. Your mom can’t win any of that in court okay?” He reassured you.

“So then-“

“Baby, I told you I need you to listen alright?” He reminded you. “I’m not pressing charges over the car. She’s headed home to get hers I believe, or at least that’s the way she was headed last time I looked at Life360.”

“Keep the doors dead bolted understand?” His tone was oddly calm, as if your whole world hadn’t just crumbled.

“R-right okay.” You whispered.

“Hey- princess, don’t worry. Everything’s fine okay? We are fine.” His voice now gentler than before. “I promise, this divorce won’t be messy. It’s very clear cut okay?”

“But what about you An-“

“No. Nothing is happening to me.” He said. “Nothing. You’re over 18. Everything is fine, I swear it.”

“Okay.” You sighed. “Satine said so?”

“Yes baby. I already told them-“

“Shhh! Shh, mom just pulled in.” You whispered as if she could hear you from the driveway.

“Don’t you dare hang up.” He said sternly.

“I’m not!” You huffed, going to the window to peek from behind the curtain.

You watched as your mother chucked Anakin’s keys at the front door, flinching when you heard the impact. Your mom walked over to her own vehicle and opened the trunk, lifting a backpack out. The yellow glow of the porch light was just bright enough that you could make out the heap of bags in her trunk. She’d already packed her things.

“Oh shit.” You whispered and backed away from the window as she walked toward the front door.

“What?” Anakin demanded.

“She’s got a bunch of bags in the trunk of her car but she’s coming up the porch steps right now.” You squeaked.

The door handle rattled and you heard keys jangling, the twist of the lock, and the forceful push of the front door. Then came the rapid, loud knocking.

“Hey!” She yelled. “I know you’re home. I want to talk to you!”

“No. Don’t say anything.” Anakin warned. “Obi just pulled in, don’t talk to her. Not even through the door.”

Anakin could be heard shuffling and slamming his brothers car door, instructing him to get him home as quickly as possible.

Your mother kept knocking, even going so far as to rap on the window in hopes that you’d hear her out.

“Please just talk to me. I’m not- listen it’s not your fault!” She yelled. “You were just a teenager!”

“Baby- no.” Anakin sounded pained as he spoke.

“I know Ani.” You whispered back. “I know, okay? I’m not gonna talk to her. Not even if she says stupid shit like that. As much as it angers me, I know I’m better off staying quiet.”

“Good girl.” He sighed. “I’ll be home soon okay? Or actually-“

”Obi can we stop at the hardware store?”

“Which one?”

“I don’t care. Whichever is open!”

“Christ, alright.”

“I’m getting new locks before I come home.” Anakin declared.

“That’s probably a good idea.” You said quietly, alittle suspicious of the sudden silence from outside.

You crept back up to the window and saw your mother standing next to her car, sitting on the lip of the open trunk. Her hand flailing as she spoke animatedly over the phone. You could physically see her huff out loud just before she got up and slammed the trunk shut, angrily ending the phone call.

“Has everyone lost their fucking mind?” She yelled, pulling out her car keys and walking to the drivers side door to get in and speed away from the house.

“She left.” You breathed out.

“Good.” Anakin sounded relieved. “I’ll be home as soon as I can okay?”

”why don’t I just take you there? I’ll go get the new locks.”

“Are you sure? Well- if… okay! Okay fine, here at least let me give you some cash.”

“Can you hang up so I can yell at you now?”

“You already yelled at me!”

“I’m not done yet!”

“Well you’ll have to wait. Your wife is calling me.”

“Princess-“ he started.

“I know, I heard.” You let out a slight laugh.

“I love you, see you soon.”

“I love you.” You said, hanging up and immediately collapsing on the couch.

You had let all your emotions out or at least you thought you did, by the time Anakin arrived. You ran to the door with dry eyes but the moment you unlocked it and saw him you were drowning in salty tears. He scooped you up and kicked the door shut, sliding the deadbolt into the locked position before carrying you to the couch.

“Shh it’s okay.” He whispered, his lips kissing the top of your head while you clutched onto his shirt.

“What are we gonna do?” You sniffled.

“What we always planned on doing.” He said.

“Serious?” You asked, leaning back to see that he was letting a few tears fall too despite his calm speaking voice.

“Of course I’m serious.” He said, his eyebrows furrowed. “I love you. I’ve always been serious about that.”

“But we just-“

“Look at me.” He said sternly, wiping his cheek with his shoulder. “I love you. I have always loved you. I don’t care if we just got back together, that doesn’t matter to me. I’m just as serious about you as I was before, it didn’t just go away in our time apart.”

His hands came up to cup your cheeks, his thumbs brushing away your tears. He took a grounding breath and kissed your forehead, the outer corner of each eye, and the tip of your nose.

“I would have left at anytime, you know that? Anytime. I just wanted you to be ready.” He said, a hint of something mournful in his eyes. “Are you ready?”

“Yes.”

Six years later

A new state, a new town, a new house.

A new life.

The moment the divorce was finalized you sold your old home. Using that money to get the hell out of dodge and move to somewhere warm.

Arizona was warm, always warm. You’d never even visited before you chose to live there, neither had Anakin. You wanted somewhere completely fresh, a clean slate for you to write your own story on and gods did you have a good story.

You found a beautiful two bedroom home, absolutely perfect in every way. It was close enough to town but far enough away that you weren’t surrounded by traffic or neighbors. A nice front yard, an ever nicer fenced in back yard. The big floor to ceiling glass windows in the dining room really sold it for you, the natural lighting and the fucking view was outrageous.

There was even a fire pit in the backyard which you decided to christen on your first night there via much too many s’mores. Now it was in regular use, sometimes by just you and Anakin, he did love an evening under the stars. The sky was so clear, unlike any place you’d ever been before, it was almost surreal.

Though as of late it’s been seeing an influx of visitors.

Anakin had his very own garage now, a *six* bay garage at that. He was the local go-to for multiple reasons, the prices, the high quality work, and people love a family owned store. With him as the lead man and you at the front desk, the pair of you were practically unstoppable.

This also meant that Anakin was in control of his work life in a new way. He was able to separate home and work unlike before where it wasn’t ever guaranteed that you’d be left unbothered. No more waking up at the asscrack of dawn to the obnoxious noises of old, no more at-home phone calls, no more blocked driveway, no more late nights.

It meant that he was able to be present for important moments without the worry of distraction. It meant he could cry along with you today.

You both were able to reel it in and contain the tears until the last second. The twins were so unbelievably excited for their first day of school, you both agreed that sobbing the entire way to their classroom would definitely put a damper on their day. So you smiled and skipped down the hall as requested by Leia and Anakin performed Luke’s very long, very intricate, never the same secret handshake at the door.

You gave hugs and kisses and a final goodbye wave, then booked it back out to the car. You almost made it to the foyer before your sniffles turned into cries, when you looked at Anakin for comfort you saw he was already holding his breath in that ridiculously uncomfortable way that he did to stop himself from sobbing.

Thankfully you made it to your vehicle before he passed out from lack of oxygen. It would be a real shame for him to miss this afternoon’s celebratory cookout you were hosting due to a blacktop issued concussion. The other fathers from your first time parents group would be highly disappointed if you ended up in charge of the grill.

“I can’t believe we have 12 more years of this.” Anakin sniffled.

“Seriously? Did you seriously just say that to me right now?” You cried.

“Yeah I did. I just wanted to prepare you for our suffering for the next decade.” He gave you a crooked, tearful grin.

“You’re lucky that I love you.” You hiccuped out a laugh.

“Yes I am.”

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Let me know if you wanna be added/removed

[mistyresolve]

| His Foresight - Simon “Ghost” Riley X Medic!Reader (Part 6)

Word Count - 3k

Summary - TF 141 has regrouped at their safe house, and in the past two weeks they have been of trying to figure out their next move. Doc and Ghost finally have a little talk about their night together.

Tags/Warnings - Blood and Injury, Depictions of war and violence, Explicit Language, Character Death, Slow Burn

A/N - hi

Part 1 ❤︎ Part 2 ❤︎ Part 3  ❤︎ Part 3.5  ❤︎ Part 4 ❤︎ Part 5 ❤︎ Part 7

Masterlist   

The two of you were back in the garage the next morning. Ghost getting up significantly earlier than you did; leaving you to wake up alone and slightly chilled from the morning air. 

There was also a delicious ache between your legs that wasn’t normally there. 

Ghost was servicing one of the armoured vehicles to make sure it was ready to go when the squad needed to move. It’s matte tan painting normally nothing significant but you couldn’t help but feel some sort of familiarity with the vehicle. While taking stock of your medical supplies you stared at the lettering on the side of the vehicle trying to pinpoint where you had seen it before. 

“Riley,” you called out, eyes still locked on the bolded lettering on the side of the hood. He paused what he was doing to look up at you. With narrowed eyes, you said, “Why do I feel like I’ve read about this ATV before?” You recalled reading about a vehicle being swiped from a convoy a few months ago in one of the weekly newsletters the military put out. 

“Uhh,” you could’ve sworn there was a slight blush underneath that mask, “Yeah, we stole it. Wasn’t our intent at first, but figured it would be a waste of an opportunity if we returned it.”  

You made your way to the stool beside him, “‘We’ as in?”

“Soap and I…” he thought for a second, searching for the right word, “commandeered it on our way into an active combat zone. In the report, we said it was a hostile.” he shrugged. Everything here was stolen, sure, but it was mostly little things like rations and ammo; which he had mentioned took forever to compile. The other vehicle was just a modified truck. This was an Oshkosh MPAP; equipped with a turret, and bulletproof windows, and was worth a million dollars.

And these goons just took it.   

Despite his seemingly nonchalance demeanour, there was clear pride in the set of his shoulders. You also knew he and Soap chuckled about it on their way here to stash it.   

“What did Price have to say about it?” you inspected the manual for the ATV to see all it came with. There was a hesitance from him and you lifted a brow at him, “What will Price have to say about it?” you reworded the question, getting the sense that Price doesn’t know. 

“I doubt he’ll even notice,” Simon set back to work, reaching for something and tightening it with a wrench. 

The rest of the squad arrived later in the morning and Price undoubtedly noticed. In fact, he pointed right at it, eyebrows raised but didn’t say a word. 

Soap pretended to be just as shocked, “How did this get in here?” 

Ghost did a good job of redirecting everyone’s attention, “We’ve got almost a week's worth of food reserves.”

Gaz swung his gear over his shoulder heading towards the makeshift barracks, “You leave any hot water for us?” he asked Ghost. 

“Nope,” he shot back dryly, failing to mention there was never any hot water to begin with. He shoved a finger in Soap’s direction, “You better get in there next. I can smell you.” 

“It’s a musk,” Soap retorted, feigning offence.  

“Go stand downwind of me,” Ghost strained as he looked an ammo crate into one of the trucks.  

You couldn’t smell Soap from where you sat but you were sure every one of them smelt like a little ripe from all the traveling. They looked weary from it. 

A strange feeling of unspoken uneasiness hung overhead all of you. Everyone was purposefully avoiding the obvious fact that we didn’t have a solid plan.    

When Gaz returned from his shower, he had a strange look on his face. A mix of annoyance and embarrassment. He had pulled a a pack of cigarettes from his pocket throwing them to Soap, “You win,” he said bitterly. 

“Really?” Soap caught the pack, immediately putting one in his mouth. He turned to Ghost, “You’ve just made me a very happy man.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ghost looked genuinely confused. He glanced at you with questioning eyes, wondering if you had any insight into their exchange.

You offered him a subtle shrug.  

Price was talking quietly with Laswell outside the garage. With dark bags weighing down his eyes, accompanied by a frown, Price looked uncharacteristically tired. Knowing him, he probably didn’t get the best sleep last night. It was us against the world right now, and since he was our captain every single one of us was looking to him for direction. It was a lot of pressure for one man. But there was a good reason he was Captain. He was level-headed and experienced. This probably wasn’t the first time he found himself in this situation either. This was just another Wednesday for him. For all of them. 

Except you. 

You don’t belong on a task force like this. You weren’t even sure you were meant for the medic life anymore. Lord knew you couldn’t save anyone when it mattered. 

Your teeth sank into your lip as you pondered your life choices so far. The hair on the back of your neck began to tingle and when you looked up to see Ghost watching you from across the room. His eyes revealed nothing before he dragged his attention back to Soap.               

Price called for a meeting after everyone was a little more settled in, “We’ll need to lie low for the next few weeks. Keep our footprint to a minimum,” Price took a seat on the bench next to you, swiping a hand down his face, “Laswell said that the brasses have been keeping it tight-lipped about our situation. So either they don’t know and someone is working on this alone or they do know and don’t want it getting out,” he sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Which one is worse? I don’t know.” 

If they do know we risk giving ourselves away by trying to make contact. This was going to be a waiting game. 

We were in this alone and the thought of the world being completely oblivious to our disappearance was frightening. The idea of your family never knowing what happened to you left just as fast as it came. 

“Until we come up with a plan?” Gaz sneered, his eyes hardening making it evident it was hardly a question. 

“How long will that take?” You asked, your knee bouncing in a clear show of anxiety. 

Laswell cleared her throat, eyes peeking over the laptop she was sitting in front of, “I’ve got a few contacts on US soil who are doing some internal investigations. I won’t be able to exchange information with them as often as I’d like but they’re good at what they do,” She assured, this usually perfect braid falling loose down her shoulder. “I trust that they’ll be able to find some leads.”

“How long with that take?” Ghost repeated your question.

Laswell huffed, “I have no idea.” 

“Let’s aim for a few weeks at the very least,” Price said, lifting a fresh unlit cigar to his mouth. 

“We’ve only got a week’s worth of food,” you exchanged a look with Ghost, who was already looking at you, his dark eyes unreadable. Before the rest of the team got here he had donned his mask, making it all the harder to gauge what exactly he was thinking. 

“Ahh,” Laswell flipped her laptop to face the rest of us. You leaned forward and squinted at the bright screen with multiple windows pulled up, “There’s a little townlet three hours from here with no military presence. We can go into town to stock up when the time arrives.”

Two weeks. Two whole weeks passed and Laswells weren’t any closer to finding out who Specter was, and everyone was getting antsy. She did, however, discover that we have all been flagged as deserters. 

Price and Gaz were out doing recon every morning, and every time they came back with the same news. Which was no news.  

You and Ghost had gone into the little town Laswell aforementioned nearly every day since that first week. You spent most of your time at one of the schools there. It was a symbiotic relationship where you were providing medical services wherever you were needed in exchange for more medical supplies. All the while Ghost went off on his own sometimes coming back with food other times with information on the movements of the military. “For your safety” he wasn’t able to tell you who exactly he was meeting with for this information. 

You were cleaning the wound of a smaller child, her dark hair and wide glassy eyes flitting to everything that moved. Considering how her wound looked a week ago she was healing well. In a few more days there will be nothing left but a pink scar. You couldn’t understand each other because of a language barrier but there was mutual respect between you two. She couldn’t have been older than 10 but her eyes showed she had seen more than her years. Her eyes would sometimes glaze over and would stare far beyond what you could see. Her mouth would loosen and she would murmur to herself. A prayer, you were later told by a woman who spoke English. It was unsettling to see someone so young so grown. 

That’s what growing up in a warzone will do to you. You chastised yourself, your teeth sinking into your bottom lip.

“Here,” you secured her bandage showing off your work to her. Her delicate hand grazed it, her face void of emotion. With a slight bow of her head, she left. You watched as she disappeared back out the school door. 

You felt someone take a seat beside you, her identity easily discerned by her scent of pepper and rosemary. “Her mother would have been so devastated to see her like this,” she spoke softly, her accent almost undetectable. She was one of the teachers at the school, and also the one who let you use her classroom as a makeshift station when she didn’t have any classes. 

She seemed like a great teacher, artwork and previous school projects lined her classroom walls. 

It didn’t go unnoticed that she was using the past tense. Your mouth opened and closed as you fought to find the right words, “She’s too young,” too young for this kind of life. Too young to be seeing death. Too young to be this broken. 

“Is anyone ever old enough?” She began helping you pack your supplies, offering you a new medical kit for today’s services, “We are having trouble getting shipments in so this is going to be the last time we’ll be able to pay you back.” 

You tilted your head at her, “What do you mean by troubles?”    

She smoothed out the wrinkles from her shirt, “They’ve put up checkpoints at every roading leading in and out of eastern borders. It is almost impossible to get transport trucks through,” Her blue eyes had grown tired in the last few days.

You placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “Thank you. For everything you’ve done for me. If there is anything I can do to repay you, anything at all, let me know.”

She smiled and shook her head, “You’ve done more than enough,” she leaves you to turn her attention to a group of students coming in for her next class. 

Ghost returned to the school a few hours earlier than he usually did, his pace hurried, “Grab your stuff. We’re getting out of here,” he panted like he’d run the entire way back to the school but he was already moving to pack your supplies back into your pack. 

You looked up at him, eyebrows knitting together, “What’s wrong?” 

“A convoy was sighted three hundred kilometres to the east,” he didn’t wait for your reply before he slung ur pack over his shoulder and strode for the door, “And they aren’t insurgents.” 

Which means they’re American. And they couldn’t know we were here. They would take us all back in, and the last thing we wanted was to be getting into gunfights with our own. 

Ghost opened your door for you, “Get in.” 

You gave him a side glance before stepping up into the truck and letting him slam it shut behind you. Apart from the sound of the rocky road underneath the wheels and the whir of the engine the ride back was silent. You watched out your window, turning thoughts over in your head, debating whether the conversation you’ve been wanting to have with him but never the time, was worth it. 

Since that first night, nothing more has happened between you too. There hasn’t been the time for a conversation about it. Let alone actual sex. Still, a conversation needed to be had at some point. You wanted to know what he was thinking. He was always difficult to read and never shared his thoughts and feelings with anyone.  

“What’s on your mind?” Ghost spoke first, sensing your hesitation, his eyes flickering between you and the road. 

“A lot,” you tried laughing but it came out more like a sigh, then shrugged, “I guess mostly…about that night,” you started off.

His eyes widened before he quickly turned to face the road again, “Go on.” 

“We haven’t discussed it, or… haven’t really had the time to explore what it means. If it does mean anything. Don’t get me wrong,” you caught yourself, “There really isn’t a worse time for something like this,” it wasn’t like things had grown awkward between the two of you in the last few weeks, but you weren’t sure how you were supposed to be feeling. Or how he was feeling. Doubt had crept into the corners of your mind in the last few weeks. 

Maybe it was just a distraction for him. 

Your breakfast soured in your stomach at the idea.      

The clouds overhead began to turn a sombre grey, bringing with it the threats of a storm. 

Beside you, he’d grown impossibly still. His shoulders were taut with discomfort, “If you’re going to say it was a mistake just do us both a favour and say it.” 

Your heart dropped into the pit of your stomach, “Was it–” you swallowed, “Was it a mistake for you?” 

“No,” he spoke with conviction, “No, it wasn’t.” 

Just as fast as the air left your lungs, they were filled, “Ohh,” you released a sigh, your head falling back onto the seat. 

“Once we get ourselves out of this we can talk about it all you want, but–”

“But, now isn’t a good time,” you finished for him, agreeing with the statement.  

“I don’t want you to think I used you like some sex-crazed caveman,” he shifted, the light of the day dwindling as we rolled down the road, the shadows from the trees creeping closer and closer to the truck. 

“I dont…” you started but he was already pulling the truck over to the side of the road. 

“I need you to know that the moment we get back to society that this,” he unbuckled his seatbelt and gestured between the two of you, “Isn’t going to end. I care for you but I need you to stay alive. So, I’m deciding for us to put things on hold because neither of us needs the distraction. It wasn’t a mistake. Do I wish I had waited until I was able to fuck you in a real bed? Kinda.” 

The first few drops of rain splattered onto the windshield, fat and heavy. 

He released the strap on his bulletproof vest to his chest and reached for my hand, “Feel this,” he brought my hand, dwarfed in his, to his racing heart. The heat radiated off his body, “That is what you do to me. Every time you look at me, or speak, or enter a room. I feel like I  can’t breathe around you. I’m terrified of you, and the possibilities that come with you,” he squeezed your hand, and he took in a shuttering breath, “And when you look at me like that,” his voice dropped and his eyes searched yours before bringing your hand lower, where you felt his member hardening. 

Your cheeks heated and you felt your own heart quicken its pace. 

The sounds of the rain became a rhythmic beat as it began to downpour, and without the windshield wipers to wipe away the downfall it was nearly impossible to see to the outside. 

He let out a low, agonizing sound when you gave him an experimental squeeze 

His attention flicked to the clock on the dash, his eyes darkening, “If I had been a smart man I wouldn’t have told Price we were leaving early. So if we take much longer it’ll raise questions,” he pulled away from you, slowly, like it was taking every sane part of him to do so, “And I’m sure you don’t want that.” 

You shook your head. You did not want to talk with Price about your extracurriculars. 

He took one last look at you, “Fuck sake,” he lifted the bottom half of his mask and pulled your lips to his. It was a chaste, desperate, open-mouth kiss. One where his hands dipped your head back to gain better access. His thumbs cradled your jaw, his fingers curling in your hair. 

It was just like the last time you kissed him. He was all fire and heat. He was explosive. 

When he finally pulled back, his lips were wet and rosy, his eyes half-lidded, “Promise me you won’t go anywhere?” he said lowly. 

You couldn’t help the sheepish smile, “I’m here.”  

His Foresight - @thychuvaluswife ❤︎ @shuttlelauncher81 ❤︎ @lostinsideourminds ❤︎ @v1naco ❤︎  @konig-breedme ❤︎ @wolfyland07 ❤︎ @cumbersome-robes ❤︎ @adelaidai ❤︎ @ddioriez ❤︎ @johfaam0 ❤︎ @marytvirgin ❤︎ @stickygumchewer ❤︎ @lauraliisa ❤︎ @jungcoccc ❤︎ @lovelyladymayyyy ❤︎ @lululandd ❤︎ @chrissyfishywissy ❤︎ @naxxsstuff ❤︎ @sididakra-jo ❤︎ @yukisawer ❤︎ @q8852p ❤︎ @kat-nee ❤︎ @meganoreid ❤︎ @thewoodenarcade ❤︎ @kaghost ❤︎ @shadowcldx ❤︎@mymommmy ❤︎ @crunchlite ❤︎ @mychrysanthemums ❤︎  @xheera​  ❤︎ @lockleywife​ ❤︎ @ryethebrokengae  

[wh0re43van]

Baby Fever pt2 (Evan Peters X Reader)

Summary: After returning your niece to her home, you and Evan go back to your own house to start you own family ;)

Word count: 1.8k

Warnings: smut, unprotected sex

Pt1 Pt3

A/n: I was going to throw a daddy kink in here, but I’m not too sure if that would be a turn off for people?? Let me know what you guys think! As always thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy!

Ellie ended up staying with us for close to a week, but fortunately, her grandmother is doing much better. Andrew has come home to take care of Ellie while his wife stays to take care of her mother.

We pull into Andrews driveway, returning his daughter and all of the presents that Evan insisted we buy her; I figured out why Ellie likes her uncle so much now. He bought her every single one of the Monster High dolls because he loves how her eyes light up every time she gets one.

“Thank you guys so much,” Andrew yawns as he pries a whining Ellie out of Evans arms.

“No! No! I wanna stay with them!” She screams and kicks her feet, her new sparkly paw patrol sneakers- courtesy of Evan of course- glinting in the morning sunlight peaking through the porch.

“Now that’s enough Ellie. I know your uncle has spoiled you, but it’s time to come home and unpack now. You’ll see them again soon,” Andrew explains with little patience. He looks exhausted.

“Not fair!” Ellie cries crocodile tears as Andrew opens the front door, ushering her inside.

“Let us know if you need anything else, man,” Evan smiles, pulling his brother into a hug.

•

•

After parking his car in the garage, Evan walks around the vehicle to open the door for me.

“Well, that was an exhausting week,” I smile as I step out onto the concrete. “I can’t wait to go to sleep,” I yawn as Evan opens the door to our house. I love Ellie dearly, but Evan has got to learn to not wind her up or give her soda before bedtime.

“We have one last thing to do before you have your nap, my love,” Evan chuckles before picking me up bridal style, carrying me off to our bedroom. He lays me on our unmade bed onto my back, crawling on top of me, placing a tender kiss on my lips.

“Ev,” I giggle. “Don’t you want me to shower first? It’s been like two days,” I say slightly embarrassed, knowing exactly where this is heading.

“Now what’s the point of that?” My husband asks in between each kiss he peppers down my neck and across my collarbone. “You’re just going to have to shower again once I’m done with you,” he raises his head to look into my eyes, making me blush a bit. I just giggle and wrap my arms around his neck, pulling his lips back to mine. We’ve been together for years, yet I still get butterflies every time he kisses me. His rough hands still leave goosebumps on my bare skin.

“Lets get this off of you,” he says softly, tugging on my oversized sweater. I lift my hands so he can pull it over my head, I lay back down as he scans my bare torso up and down. His eyes still glinting with adoration the same way they did the very first time we were intimate so long ago. His large hands softly slide over my hips and up towards my breasts.

“You’re such a work of art,” he says lowly, still simply admiring my body. “Y/n, you’ve truly made me the luckiest man alive,” he places a kiss on my nose, then pulls his black t-shirt over his head. I quickly pull his lips back to mine, desperate to taste him again.

“I love you so much Evan,” I swoon against his lips, entangling my fingers into the curls on the back of his head. Evans hands find their way to my breasts, as he works his lips passionately on mine. I trail my hands down his back to pull him closer to me, needing to feel his skin on mine. With our chests pressed flush together, I raise my feet up to the waistband of his sweats, pushing them down his legs. This earns a chuckle from Evan as he pulls away to further remove the pants and his boxers.

“That was kind of impressive,” he grins as he scoots further down the bed.

“Thank you,” I giggle while he pulls my leggings and underwear off. Evan settles between my legs, placing them on his shoulders before grabbing my hips to pull me closer to him. He uses a finger to spread my slick up to my clit, taking a moment to cherish the sight of my dripping core. “So pretty,” he says to himself before licking a strip from my entrance to my bundle of nerves, where he stops to kitten lick.

“You always make me feel so good baby,” I hum as I melt into his touch. His expert tongue works at my clit as he pushes two fingers into me, curling into the perfect spot, making me moan out his name. I feel him smile against me as he picks up speed. His fingers pumping into me at just the right pace, curling into my g-spot every time as he sucks and laps at my clit quickly creates a knot in my stomach. The room is filled with the sound of him pumping in and out of me and my loud moans as my legs begin to shake on either side of his head.

“Do you wanna cum for me, baby?” Evan smirks

“Yes,” I moan. “Please-fuck,” I squeal as my walls throb around his fingers. With Evans tongue hard at work and a steady pace I feel myself unravel. The unholiest of sounds leave my trembling lips as I release into his hand over his face. The orgasm courses through me, leaving my skin tingling. Evan crawls up to press a very wet kiss on my lips. He never wipes my release off his face, wearing it with pride as it drips down and beads in his beard.

“You taste so good baby,” he pants through the rough kiss as he wedges himself between my legs again. “I can never get enough of you,” he groans against my lips. He instinctively reaches to our nightstand to retrieve a condom.

“Have you changed your mind?” I giggle. He raises an eye brow then quickly realizes the reason for tonight’s event.

“How could I forget,” he chuckles lining himself up with my entrance, using his thumb to rub my clit. “I get to cum in this perfect pussy,” he groans against my lips making my stomach do a flip. He pulls his head back, gentle grabbing my face to look at him. His eyes pierce mine as I feel him slide in slowly, more gentle than usual, but so much more erotic. A low groan leaves Evans throat

“Fuck you feel so good,” he breaths, still staring directly into my eyes, his nose almost brushing against mine. his hand moves from my jaw to my hips so he can hold me in place while he bottoms out inside of me, making me arch my back and curl my toes.

“Oh my god Ev,” I moan, loving how deep he fills me. Evan sits up straight so he can properly thrust into me, pulling my hips flush to his every time he pushes into me, making sure to bury every inch of himself into me.

He begins to pick up speed, getting more desperate every time he rocks his hips into mine. He brings a thumb up to my mouth, pulling his lip between his teeth as I take it into my mouth, swirling my tongue a couple times.

“Atta girl,” he smirks, his eyes glancing back and for the between my own and my mouth. He removes his thumb, using it to draw circles on my clit. The extra stimulation is exactly what I needed paired with the sight of my god of a husband pounding impossibly deep into me, his curls bouncing in sync with his thrusts, his head thrown back in pleasure as he hits the deepest parts of my body. The way his veins pop in his hands and arms as he grips onto my hips for dear life, and his moans. Fuck, his moans. The sounds this man makes as he’s buried inside of me could bring me to an orgasm all on their own.

“Fuck,” I squeal, my voice trembling. Evan moves his head to look down at me, smiling at the sight below him. “Goddamn you fuck me so good,” I praise as I feel myself nearing my second orgasm. “I want you to cum in me Ev,” I demand. “I want to feel your cum inside me while I cum around your cock, please baby,” I whine as I begin to pulse around his throbbing dick. Evan groans out a ’fuck’, reaching up to grab my face again.

“Look at me baby,” he growls, “look at me while I fill you up,” he brings his face so close to mine that his hair brushes my forehead as he rams himself as far into me as he possibly can. “Fuck!” I scream- much louder than intended- the curse punctuated with each thrust. Evan groans lowly as he shoots hot white cum against my cervix as I release around him, our intimate eye contact broken as mine roll back into my head while he mercilessly fucks his seed deeper into me. Evans thrusts slow and he releases his death grip from my face. I lay panting below him, a sweaty mess as every inch of my body trembles. I feel almost as If I’m floating.

Evan kisses my forehead then pulls himself out of me, scooching down to examine the mess he’s made inside of me.

“Fuck,” he groans at the sight his cum dripping out of my swollen pussy. He looks up me between my legs. “This is a really good look for you,” he smiles. I don’t even want to move my mouth to speak, still riding on cloud nine. “Lets get you cleaned up sweetie,” he chuckles. Picking me up bridal style, carrying me to the bathroom.

He sets me gently onto my shaky feet so he can draw me a bath.

“I love you,” I say, meaning every syllable of the sentence. He turns, flashing his dimples before picking up my hands to place a gentle kiss on each.

“And I, you,” he brushes my hair behind my ear.

As I sink into the much-needed bath, Evan asks,

“So, when can we take a pregnancy test?” making me giggle.

“We have to wait a couple weeks, Ev,” I smile.

“Oh,” he looks a bit disappointed, then after a beat he smirks. “I guess that means we’ll have to do that a couple more times until we can test,”

“I think that’s exactly what it means,” I laugh.

[scarofthewind]

Slashers x Reader || Stuck (NSFW)

A/N: HOwdy bitch! This is a cheesy, scenario prompt where the reader (or slasher) gets stuck and then fuck.

Warnings: Dub!con, teasing, fingering, oral, non!protection, female pronouns, blah blah blah

Michael Myers: Under the bed

"Damnitt," you hissed as one of the beams from under the bed came down on your lower back, keeping you pinned in your spot. All you were trying to do was grab a bag of winter clothes that was squished towards the back under your bed and now you were stuck, left to fight off dust bunnies alone. "Michael?" You called, heaving a sigh as you tried moving again but to no avail. You couldn't reach the bar with your arms due to the tight space; you were stuck.

"Michael!" You shouted, finally hearing his loud footsteps ascending the stairs.

"What do you w-" Michael snapped his mouth shut, eyes growing wide as he watched your lower half squirm as you tried to get out form under the bed.

"The bar is stuck and I can't get out. Lift the bed." You said, watching his feet cross the floor until he was behind you out of sight. For a moment, nothing happened and you grew irritated but silently reminded yourself who you were dealing with and took a deep breath. "Don't rip them please." With those simple words, you felt large hands cup your ass, reaching to the hem of your pants and pulling them down with your panties as well.

You felt his fingers trace over your skin, creating goosbumps in their wake. His hands spread your thighs apart and you heard him groan, your face heating up at the noise. Michael was practically foaming at the mouth by the time he slipped a finger into your cunt. His eyes never left your lower lips and he added another finger just a few seconds later, feeling the way your walls tightened around his digits. "Did you plan this?" He asked, his thumb moving down to circle your clit.

"You think I want to be under here?" You snapped, biting back a moan as he rocked his fingers into you. Michael chuckled at your attitude and curled his fingers, grinding them against your g-spot and watching your thighs begin to tremble.

"Hurry up and cum so I can rescue you and claim my reward," Michael grunted, his cock straining against his jeans and the smell of your excitement making his mind go numb. Maybe he would just fuck you like this.

William Schenk/Emmerson: Under the car

"Will?" You called, setting your bag down and taking your shoes off. Your house was quiet other than the loud banging from in the garage, a sign you knew would lead you to your fiancé. "How long have you been out here?" You asked as you found him under the old car you said would be better used as scrap metal than trying to fix.

"Hey babe," he replied, his hand coming out to grab a wrench of some kind before he went back to clanking away. "About two hours or so. I'll be done in a minute." William was so focused on fixing a stubborn part of the vehicle that he didn't even realize how the car jack had fallen. Five minutes later when he finally decided to call it quits, he realized the situation. "Shit," he grunted, yelling out for you.

"Are you okay?" You called as you came back into the garage, watching as he was trying to get out from under the car.

"I'm fine, the fucking jack fell again," he sighed.

"I told you to get a new one last week!" You nagged at him before you made your way closer to him. You weren't sure if it was the way he was sweaty and covered in grease or the bubbling arousal in your system but you had an evil idea. With light fingers, you traced your fiancés cock through his jeans, watching him twitch at the feeling.

"What are you doing?" William asked, curious to see where your mind was at, although he had a feeling he already knew.

"I like you like this," you cooed, watching his cock harden in his jeans at your constant petting. You gently undid the button and zipper before reaching past his boxers and pulling his erection out. You heard him suck in a breath as the cold air hit his shaft.

"Dirty fucking girl," he groaned, wishing he could watch you in this moment. The moment your lips and tongue met the tip of his cock, he was a mess. William had to grip the wrench in his hands in order not to grab pieces of the car that were already falling apart. He closed his dark eyes and just felt your mouth around him; warm and wet like your perfect cunt that he loves so much.

When he felt you pull off his cock completely he was frozen in waiting. He could hear a zipper and a thud of clothes before he felt your hand circling his base. "Let me out baby," he warned, his patience growing thinner by the moment.

With a soft laugh, you pressed the tip of his cock to your cunt and slowly sank down with a 'no', on your lips.

[skybluewritings]

Last Summer Part 2, Felix Catton x Fem!reader

word count: 2K

Masterlist

She would be staying with the Cattons for a month then return home a couple days before her flight to finish packing and give her tearful goodbyes. She paused the track on her iPod when she saw him pulling up to the station. Felix had insisted on coming himself to collect her despite her insistence that she was happy order a taxi.

The car came to a stop, she picked up the handle of her suitcase and walk down the steps of the station. Felix got out of his car, despite having seen each other only a week ago she couldn’t contain the rush of joy that seeing him brought. Her suitcase was momentarily discarded, she squealed as she flung her arms around his neck. His arms wound around her waist, he laughed as he lifted her a little. The wood and spice smell of his aftershave was intoxicating.

Once he had set her down she unwrapped her arms from his neck, grinning up at him. She glanced down noticing his arms were still around her waist, his palms resting on the small of her back. He also noticed this and immediately pulled away from her.

He cleared his throat. “Sorry about that.”

Heat spread through her stomach. “No it’s uh quite alright.”

Neither spoke for a moment, Felix clapped his hands together. “Right, shall we?”

“Yes, yeah, let’s go!”

She went to pick up her suitcase but he had beat her to it.

“I’ll be taking that.” He told her.

She scoffed. “I think I’m more than capable of carrying a suitcase.”

He shrugged. “Nope don’t care."

“You vex me.” She sighed, opening the car door and dropping into the seat.

“You love me really!” He sang, taking the suitcase and opening the car boot.

He was closer to the truth than he would ever know.

*

The car sped through the countryside, it was a bright and blazing day. The roof the convertible was down, the wind making her hair dance all around her. The upbeat tempo of music vibrated through the vehicle. She rested her arm against the window ledge, choosing to subtly gaze at Felix through her cat eye sunglasses. It was unfair how good he looked in his ray-ban sunglasses, her eyes traced the sharp curve of his jawline.

“I can feel you staring.” He said.

“I was very much not!” She replied defensively, looking away from and at the rode ahead.

“I’m not blind.” She couldn’t see him but she knew he was smirking.

“You flatter yourself too much.” She teased.

“I don’t think I flatter myself enough.” He replied, she playfully smacked his arm knowing he was joking. It may have seemed like a narcissistic thing to say but when it came down to it there wasn’t much about Felix that was self obsessed. He was not unaware of his own attractiveness but he didn’t carry himself in the way most vain men would.

“So how much further?” She asked.

“Another couple minutes I reckon.”

“Is there anything you haven’t told me that I should know? Like that your family is actually a coven of aristocratic vampires.”

“Just my mum!” He told her, before shaking his head. “No, there isn’t much that you don’t know already. My family can be somewhat traditional but pretty welcoming overall.”

“Will I be presented to your mum in the fashion of a debutante at court?”

He laughed. “Yes then you’ll be forced to dance a waltz with my dad.”

This made her laugh. “Sounds sexy.”

“Thank you for agreeing to come I really do appreciate it.” He told her taking her hand and giving it a warm squeeze.

She squeezed it back. “You’re welcome, I’m always here for you.”

“You too.” He said finally letting go of her hand.

Her pulse was far too fast and so was her spiralling mind. How was she going to manage a month with him?

*

They finally drove through the gates of Saltburn, as cliche as it sounded her mouth nearly fell open in sheer shock. It was the most elegant home she had ever seen. She knew he came from a lot of money but was still taken aback by the extravagance of it all. The car drive came to a stop inside a large garage full of a variety of old expensive cars.

 

Felix came round to her side opening the car door for her, in a gesture she thought only happened in old films.

 

“Thank you.” She told him with a smile.

 

He smiled back. “My mum would never forgive me if I didn’t.”

 

“I would have thought someone else parked your car for you?” She pointed out.

 

“Sometimes I like to do things for myself.” He explained matter of fact.

 

She supposed that was a fair answer, truthfully, she had no clue how the rules of anything of this worked. This was an extreme version wealth which she had never encountered before.

 

He opened the boot of the car, and she took out her suitcase pulling it behind her as they left the garage.

 

They reached the main foyer of the house, it had wide cavernous ceilings with various patterns carved into it. An older man in a suit dipped his head at them politely.

 

“(Name) this is Duncan the head Butler.”

 

Head Butler?! She thought. Was she in Pride and Prejudice?

 

Duncan gave her a tight-lipped smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you as well.” She replied trying to mimic his formal tone.

 

“I will have your luggage taken to your room.” Duncan told her.

 

(Name) waved her hands. “Oh no really it’s okay I can take it.”

 

Duncan’s face became more pinched. “No please I insist.”

Yeah she was not going to try argue with him.

 

“Well thank you then.” She said awkwardly.

 

She looked on helplessly as Duncan commanded another butler to take the suitcase.

 

Felix clearly sensing her discomfort pat her on the shoulder. “Come on, let’s go to the conservatory my mum will be dying to meet you.”

 *

 

There were three women in the conservatory, they were all sat on ornate chairs that faced opened glass doors. Two of the women were engrossed in a story the blonde woman was telling them. She stopped speaking when she noticed her friends had stopped paying attention to her and to instead the new arrivals. The blonde woman turned to see what they were staring at, her whole face lit up.

 

“My goodness darling you do know how to pick them don't you.” The blonde woman (who she had worked out was his mother) said to Felix.

 

She elegantly stood from her chair and practically sauntered toward them.

 

“This is my mum, Elspeth.” He told her.

 

“Lovely to meet y-“ Her words were cut off when Elspeth grabbed both sides of her face tilting it to one side then the other. (Name) winced at having her face manhandled.

 

“Mum stop that!” Her best friend scolded, gently swatting his Mother’s prying hands away.

 

Elspeth bought her hands to her chest. “I do apologise it’s just that I’m trying to figure out what it is about your beauty that draws my son in. I think it might be your eyes they’re rather lovely.”

 

It was a strange compliment, but still a compliment she supposed. “Oh thank you.” She said with a nervous smile. “However I’m pretty sure my physical appearance doesn’t really play a part in my friendship with Felix!”

 

Elspeth furrowed her brow. “Friendship?” She looked to her son. “Felix I thought she was your girlfriend.”

 

Girlfriend?!

 

He sighed. “Mum, I explicitly told you I had a friend coming to stay.”

 

“But the way you so lovingly spoke about her-“

 

“Anyway,” Felix said slightly too loud. “I am sure (Name) will want to get settled into her bedroom, we’ll see you for dinner.”

 

“But really it is wonderful to have you stay dear.” Elspeth told her kindly.

 

She found herself smiling genuinely. “Thank you.”

 

Felix led her out the conservatory with the same speed she led him out of the party.

*

Felix fell back onto the bed in the guest bedroom. He covered his face with both hands groaning into them. “Oh god I’m sorry, that was so embarrassing.”

 

She perched on the bed next to him. “I-I mean it wasn’t too bad. Your mum seems to at least like me!”

 

“Yeah I guess.” He removed his hands from his face. “But how could she imply that you and I-as if I am not capable of just having female friends.”

 

“You seemed to be pretty good friends with a lot of the girls at Oxford.” She snickered, pretending it didn’t hurt to know that.

 

He rolled his eyes. “How do you know?”

 

She flopped down next to him and playfully elbowed him. “I mean you weren’t exactly subtle in hiding it everyone kind of knew.”

 

 “Is that really how you see me?”

 

She turned to lie on her side. “No of course not-sorry I was only teasing.”

 

He didn’t look at her, instead picking at the buttons of his shirt. “I don’t like the idea that a bunch of people can just decide something about me, like they know me. I always made it clear I never wanted anything more from the people I was with. I’m not some heartless fuck boy. It makes me feel uncomfortable that some people might have that view of me...”

 

“Well I don’t.” She said softly. “No one’s perfect but you aren’t a bad guy, people know that even if they see your exploits differently to how you did.”

 

He now looked at her. “What do you think of me?”

 

Where should she start? “I think you’re just one of the kindest people I’ve ever met and that well-I can’t believe I’m existing in the same room as you.”

 

Maybe the last part was too much, but she couldn’t help it if she meant it. His lips parted at her words, he seemed at a momentary loss for words as he stared at her stunned. His full lips looked so inviting parted like that, it wouldn’t have taken her much to lean forward and find out. She chose to sit back up this was becoming too dangerous for her.

 

She cleared her throat. “Do with that what you will.”

 

He seemed to snap back to reality gradually sitting up next to her. “I’m sorry it took me a minute, it’s just- no one’s ever really said anything like that to me before.” He swallowed hard.

 

“Maybe it’s time that someone should.” She admitted.

He gave her a grateful smile that made everything inside her melt away. The moment passed when he stood up from the bed and offered out his hand to her which she gladly took as he pulled her to her feet. “Come on I’ll show you where the bathroom is.”

Tag list: @emitaylorsverson

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1998 home in Ankeny, IA is the ultimate man cave. It has 3bd, 4ba, and he's asking $1.5M. Take at look at the ultimate man cave.

This is a one-of-a-kind home, and I'm sure it was custom built to the owner's specifications. This looks like some kind of playing court w/the windows above and all.

Looks like a TV and a movie screen. Is that a car lift? I'm confused.

Another TV area with a black fireplace.

This is a very high view of the ground floor.

Back here is a bar with a big flat screen.

Not much going on in this huge sun room. Maybe he rides that blue vehicle around it.

This looks like a big bar and kitchen.

Here's a large 2 bay garage.

Looks like a repair shop lounge.

Volley ball, pickle ball court?

Small exercise room.

Here's a dining room with a mezzanine. I don't know, is that the garage behind the window?

The kitchen's pretty big. It's enclosed, but has 2 big openings.

What a huge open house.

This is an enclosed deck that opens to a large outside deck. I like this idea, in case you invite people over and it rains.

The primary bedroom has a fireplace and a built-in canopy for the bed.

Behind the bed there's a little house that must be a sauna.

The man closet.

Very large bathroom.

Looks like a bedroom setup for several children.

And, a large bath.

Wow, this is like a laundromat.

Down there is the hot tub room.

Here's another bar and kitchenette plus a fireplace.

A very long game room.

The property is 16 acres. Look how far it is to get to the house.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/6681-NE-Berwick-Dr-Ankeny-IA-50021/833655_zpid/

[bzurk]

what gets dirtier the more it cleans?

series masterlist:

thursday, week two:

cw: dubcon dubcon dubcon, noncon voyeurism

This is batshit, irredeemably insane. Absolutely morally reprehensible on every level, completely intolerable on every level of your consciousness. The guilt only hits you when you’re at home, greeting your friendly elderly neighbours who have no idea that you just got barebacked by your impossibly hot boss in the house that he shares with your three other bosses, two of whom you have also had inside of you in some way.

You’ve managed to make a decent living for yourself. It’s not exactly rewarding to look at your bank account knowing that a decent portion of the reason you’re still able to live on your own is thanks to your depraved son-of-a-bitch bosses. But now, for the first time in months, you have enough money to cover rent and all your expenses and still manage to bolster your accounts. Is this what savings is?

You wake up on Thursday with an unfamiliar lightness in your chest. It's the kind of morning where everything seems possible, where the world outside your window is filled with sunshine and the promise of a better day. For the first time in what feels like forever, your bank account isn't a source of dread but a symbol of something you've never truly had before: security.

You laugh to yourself as you get ready for the day, feeling like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders.

You get into your car, humming along to the music playing on the radio, and head to the mansion. The drive feels shorter than usual, the sun's rays warming your skin through the window, and you allow yourself to relish the momentary bliss.

As you pull into the driveway, you notice something new - a sleek, unfamiliar car parked in the open garage next to the vehicle you recognize as Price’s. The sight brings a smile to your face, a tiny spark of hope that today might go smoothly. The new car must belong to either Kyle or Johnny, or a visitor. With two people in the house, they won’t try anything, and you find comfort in that.

You park your car and step out, the gravel crunching under your feet as you approach the garage. The mansion stands tall and inviting. Today, it feels more like a sanctuary than a place of unease.

The moment you step inside, you’re greeted by a wave of warmth and the heavenly aroma of baked goods and freshly brewed tea. It’s a welcoming scent that wraps around you like a hug, dispelling any lingering worries you might have had. The house feels alive, humming with a gentle energy that puts you at ease, filled with the incoherent buzz of the television in the next room and feet against the floorboards.

The kitchen is your first stop, where you find a plate of freshly baked scones on the counter, their golden crusts still warm from the oven. A pot of tea sits beside them, steam curling invitingly from the spout. It's a scene out of a cozy dream, and you can’t help but smile at the unexpected sight. Your list for the day sits neatly beneath the plate, and when you reach for it, the first task is:

"have a scone. freshly baked :)

- johnny"

Followed by the neat, loopy scrawl of Price, underlined multiple times:

Dishes.

The sunlight streams through the large windows, casting playful patterns on the polished floors, and for once, you allow yourself to enjoy the beauty of your surroundings without the usual undercurrent of tension, the buttery, light dough melting in your mouth.

As you wander from room to room, tidying up as you go, you catch snippets of conversation from the living room. It’s Kyle and Price, their voices a comforting backdrop to your chores.

“Did you see the match last night?” Kyle’s voice carries through the hall, filled with excitement.

“Yeah, can’t believe they pulled it off,” Price replies, his tone light and airy. “Simon nearly had a heart attack.”

Their voices are low, relaxed, and for once, devoid of any hidden innuendo aimed your way. You take a deep breath, letting the normalcy of the moment seep into your bones.

As you clean, you find yourself humming a tune, the tasks that usually feel like a weight on your shoulders now light and manageable. The mansion is alive with warmth and laughter, and you soak it in, grateful for the reprieve. The hours pass by in a blur of domestic bliss. You clean, organize, and dust.

By the time you’ve almost finished your duties, the setting sun paints the mansion in a warm, golden hue, casting long shadows over the polished floors and elegant furniture. The light reflects off the clean surfaces, making them gleam in the sunlight. The cool breeze brushes against your skin, rustling the leaves on the trees and making them whisper their secrets. With your trusty mop and bucket at the ready, you move through the rooms, erasing any evidence of your presence with ease.

When you open the door to the living room, it’s bathed in a honeyed light, illuminating Kyle's relaxed figure on the lounge, his smile genuine and inviting.

“Hard at work as usual,” he says, a genuine smile on his handsome face as he tips his beer to you in greeting.

“Just finishing up. I’m almost done for the day.” You wave around the mop head, eager to get his eyes off you. His eyes never leave your face, but it offers little reassurance, not since Johnny offered you a peek inside his head. A kind facade. “I can come and do this room later if you’d like.”

Kyle chuckles and shakes his head, setting the beer down on the table beside him. “Nonsense,” he insists, gesturing to the empty seat beside him with a pat to the cushions. “Take a load off. You've been on your feet all day.”

You hesitate, a flicker of uncertainty passing through your mind. The last thing you want is to be alone in a room with him, not after everything that’s happened. Still, it seems impolite to outright refuse, and there’s a part of you that longs for a moment of rest, a chance to sit and breathe.

“Thank you,” you reply, though your voice carries a note of reluctance that you can’t quite mask. With careful steps, you move to the couch, setting your cleaning supplies aside before lowering yourself onto the cushion, your posture stiff and wary.

Kyle watches you with a relaxed air, leaning back into the couch as if this were the most natural thing in the world. You can feel his gaze, the weight of it pressing against your skin, and it takes all your willpower to meet his eyes without flinching.

“See?” He grins, his tone easy and conversational. “Isn’t this better? You’ve been running yourself ragged. You deserve a break.”

You nod, forcing a polite smile to your lips. “I guess so. It’s been a busy day.”

His laughter is soft, almost affectionate, and it sends a strange shiver down your spine. “Busy, sure, but look at this place. You’ve done a brilliant job. We’d be lost without you.”

There’s sincerity in his words, a genuine appreciation that makes your heart stumble in your chest.

The room falls into a comfortable silence, broken only by the distant hum of the house settling around you. You keep your gaze on the floor, on the intricate pattern of the rug beneath your feet, anything to distract yourself from the awareness of Kyle’s presence beside you.

It’s when you least expect it that you feel the warmth of his hand, a gentle weight settling on your leg. Your breath catches in your throat, panic fluttering beneath your skin.

You look up, meeting his gaze, and find a playful smirk dancing across his lips.

“There, now. Is this so bad?” he asks, his voice a low murmur that makes your heart race.

You swallow hard, trying to summon the strength to speak, to set a boundary that seems impossible to enforce. “Kyle, I- ”

“Relax,” he soothes, his fingers trailing softly over the fabric of your pants before leaving with a soft pat. “You can trust me, you know. I just want to talk, to get to know you a bit better.” The words are honeyed, smooth and coaxing, but there’s a shadow behind them, a subtle promise that leaves you on edge.

“I appreciate the gesture, but I really should get back to work,” you say, your voice shaky but determined. “Still on the clock and all.”

Kyle's smile remains fixed, but his eyes narrow slightly, a hint of hurt flickering before it's quickly masked by his charming facade. “I understand,” he says, his voice smooth. “Work ethic is important. But don’t forget to take care of yourself too, yeah? You’re allowed a break, y’know.”

He gently squeezes your knee before tugging, a sudden, smooth motion, and he pulls your legs into his lap.

You tense up, your heart skipping a beat. This feels like crossing a line, a boundary you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto. The sudden change in your position sends a ripple of unease through your body, and you instinctively try to pull away.

“Hey, relax,” Kyle says, his tone soothing and cajoling. His hands begin to knead your muscles, thumbs pressing into your calf, working out imaginary knots. “You’re tense. Let me help you a bit.”

Your instincts scream at you to get up, to leave, to flee. But you’re also keenly aware of the delicate balance in your job, your role here. Despite the alarm bells going off in your head, you can’t afford to make things uncomfortable - any more uncomfortable - between you and these men.

His fingers press into your muscles, and the massage is surprisingly deft, the pressure firm enough to momentarily distract you from your swirling thoughts. He focuses on the screen, occasionally glancing at you with a lazy, comfortable grin.

It feels surreal, like you’re floating outside your body, watching the scene unfold. You try to ground yourself by focusing on the game playing on the television. A soccer match, the sound of excited commentary mingling with the muted clinking of ice against glass as Kyle takes a sip of his drink.

“You watch soccer?” Kyle asks casually, keeping his eyes on the game.

“Not really,” you reply, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve never been much into sports.”

“Shame,” he says, his hands moving to your ankle, thumb circling your joint with surprising tenderness. “Could get into it. There’s a lot of beauty in the game, y’know? Strategy, skill, passion; all the good stuff.”

His touch, though unwelcome, is undeniably skilled, and you have to fight the instinct to relax into it. You can’t let yourself fall into complacency, not here, not now.

Kyle seems to sense your discomfort, glancing at you with a playful glint in his eye. “Am I making you nervous?”

You manage a small, tense smile. “Just not used to... this.”

“Well, we’re all friends here,” he says with a reassuring chuckle. “No need to be nervous. We look out for each other.”

The words linger in the air, a double-edged sword that cuts through the tension. With an effort, you pull your legs back, sitting up straighter and forcing a light laugh. “Thanks for the break, Kyle. I really should finish up my tasks for the day.”

You begin to stand, attempting to extricate yourself from the situation with as much grace as you can muster, but Kyle’s hand darts out, snagging your wrist with an unexpected firmness. Before you can react, he gives a gentle but insistent tug, and you stumble backward, landing squarely in his lap.

The world tilts on its axis, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. The air feels thick, laden with tension, as you find yourself ensnared in an intimate closeness that sets every nerve alight.

“Hey now,” he murmurs softly, his voice a low rumble that vibrates against your back. His arms circle your waist in a loose embrace, fingers brushing against your sides with a feather-light touch. “No need to rush off just yet. We’re having a nice chat, aren’t we?”

Your mind races, grasping for the right words, the appropriate response that will let you navigate this precarious situation without igniting further conflict. “I, uh- Kyle, this really isn’t-”

His breath is warm against your ear, sending shivers cascading down your spine. “Don’t worry,” he says, his tone still light, almost playful. “I don’t bite. Just thought you might like a little company after a long day.”

A flicker of annoyance rises in you, mingling with the discomfort that knots your stomach. The presumption of his actions, the way he dismisses your boundaries with such casual ease - it’s infuriating.

“Company is nice,” you reply, your voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. “But I really do need to finish up. I’ve still got a few things left on my list.”

Kyle’s grip on you doesn’t loosen; instead, his hand moves in slow, languid circles over your hip, a touch that’s meant to be soothing but only serves to amplify your nerves. “Thought you said you were almost done. All work and no play, huh?” He chuckles, the sound low and indulgent. “You need to learn how to relax a bit more.”

The suggestion hangs in the air, thick with implications, and you shift slightly, trying to create some space between you. He’s just inches from you now, his gaze sliding from your reddened cheeks to the pink tongue that pokes out to wet your lips.

“Now isn’t the time to relax,” you grumble, turning your head away to avoid the mischievous glint in his dark eyes. You shift your hips slightly in an attempt to create some space between you and the man who is clearly enjoying making you flustered. But your movements freeze as you feel his hardness beneath you.

Noticing your stiffening, Kyle chuckles and rolls you in his lap. You still can't bring yourself to meet his gaze, feeling a bit embarrassed as arousal starts to build in your stomach.

He laughs again, and your heart skips a beat as he reaches up to tangle his fingers in your hair, forcing you to look at him. With a quick jerk, he pulls your head forward and captures your lips with his own. You gasp, gripping his shoulders tightly, but he doesn't let up. He wraps his arm around your back and pulls you closer until your bodies are pressed together, and his erection is pressing against the heat between your

“Wait- But Price-” you manage between heated kisses. Kyle’s teeth nip at your bottom lip in annoyance, and before you can blink, he has adjusted your position. You now find yourself with your back pressed into the couch cushions, Kyle caging you in with one of his arms as the other reaches toward-

You squeak in surprise, attempting to press your legs closed, but Kyle’s hand is already there, his fingers pushing against your clothed pussy, and he doesn’t miss the way your thighs clench around his hands.

“I- You-” you stutter, frustrated in more ways than one. His teeth skim your throat, fingers rubbing circles into your clit.

“Three other men not enough for you? Greedy princess.”

“Stop talking,” you whine out.

Your breath catches as he curls not one, but two digits into your tight heat, sinking them as deep as he can.

“You’re so wet, princess...”

He presses a kiss against your skin, teeth nipping at the unmarred flesh, and you give his hair another tug, but when Kyle pulls his fingers out of you and shoves a third in without warning. A heady groan bubbles in your throat, hips instinctively pressing into the couch cushions to adjust the angle of Kyle’s fingers. He chuckles, his hot breath fanning across your collarbone, and his cock strains against his slacks, becoming impossible to ignore.

Without warning, Kyle’s fingers slip out of you, and you find yourself flipped onto your stomach. Your pants slide down your thighs as Kyle gets a good look at your sopping pussy.

He pulls you to your knees, using his thumbs to spread apart your folds and reveal everything you have to offer. Your face flushes with embarrassment as more blood rushes to your cheeks.

As you half consider reaching back to slap him, two sounds catch your attention.

The first is the sound of Kyle's zipper sliding down, his erect member brushing against your dampness as he positions himself behind you.

The second is the creaking of the floorboards, signaling Price's return to the room.

Before you can react, Kyle thrusts forward and fills you completely with his cock. You let out a surprised cry that causes Price's eyes to widen in shock before turning into a satisfied smile, his blue irises dancing playfully. Your heart races as you grip onto the couch and bury your face into the cushion beneath you. While Kyle remains focused on his movements inside you, Price's watchful gaze only intensifies your pleasure.

However, amidst all this arousal, you feel a hint of shame knowing that Price is watching you so closely. The only thing keeping you sane is the fact that Kyle still hasn't touched your throbbing clit or found your sweet spot inside you.

“Here,” suddenly, Price's voice breaks through the haze above you as he firmly presses down on the centre of your back and raises your hips higher up. As Kyle continues to move inside you, you let out a sob at the overwhelming sensation.

Kyle stops momentarily, and in embarrassment, you blindly flail your fist out and manage to hit Price in the thigh. He chuckles and comforts you by rubbing your hair before retreating to an armchair across from the couch. Without skipping a beat, Price takes a sip of tea he had prepared earlier and refocuses his attention on the two of you.

"Well, don't stop," he says with a loud slurp before returning to his observation.

Kyle grins wickedly, and without bothering to warn you, he doubles his pace.

The slapping of skin echoes through the room alongside muffled moans and heavy panting. The thrust of Kyle’s cock between your walls unravels you a bit further, your sanity feeling like it may slip away, and you desperately continue hiding your face from view.

Apparently, Kyle isn't a fan of shyness.

"Come on, honey," he says, his fingers snarled in your hair as he pulls your head back. "No need to be shy in front of the captain, right?" He deliberately tilts your head towards Price, whose gaze has turned hazy with desire. "Or," Kyle adds, thrusting harder, making you gasp and whimper uncontrollably, "you're just trying to hide how much I'm turning you on?" His laugh is breathy and smug.

You release a shuddering breath when he lets go of your hair, his chest pressing against your back as he leans his weight on top of you, pinning you to the couch.

"Move," you gasp, pushing your hips back against him. He responds by nipping at your exposed skin, eliciting a whine from your lips. But he complies with your request.

As he leans back, his grip on your hips tightens and he resumes thrusting into you. You moan in pleasure, arching your back and tightening your muscles around him. His breath catches in his throat.

"Damn," he pants, his gloved fingers sliding up to grab onto the soft flesh of your rear. He furrows his brow and clenches his jaw as he feels himself approaching climax. His movements become frantic, hips thrusting faster, and although you're also close to reaching release, it's clear that he won't last long enough to see you through it.

Shifting your arm back and wiggling your hand between your thighs, you attempt to stimulate your clit. But just as your fingers make contact with the bundle of nerves, Kyle forcefully smacks your hand away.

“Cum on my dick or don’t cum at all,” he tells you sternly, causing a sound of protest to escape your lips.

Desperately, you clench around him once more and arch your back in search of that sweet spot. “Please...” you pant, feeling his cock sliding over your g-spot.

Your pleading only turns Kyle on even more, and he eagerly fulfills your wish by driving into you again and again until you're moaning and cursing under his touch. Your climax hits hard, extended by Kyle's enthusiastic thrusts, and he groans in response.

Breathless and satisfied, he continues pounding into you a few more times before finally reaching his own release. With a satisfied sigh, he releases his grip on you and lets you slump against the couch cushions.

You grumble, clearly annoyed by his lack of gentleness, but Kyle simply sits back and gives your ass a friendly pat.

You can already see the numbers in your bank account rising.