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joelmillerisapunk · 5 months

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Beach Daddy I. Unexpected Encounters

Rich daddy!Joel Miller x f!reader

Masterlist • Series Masterlist

Wordcount: 5,849

Summary: You find yourself on a luxurious yacht, invited by your old roommate Sarah, only to discover that her new boyfriend is none other than your very recent ex. Feeling out of place and overwhelmed, you take solace in the kindness of Reggie, Joel's intern, who helps you navigate the ship and offers a sympathetic ear.

Warnings: 18+, mentions of cheating, reader has hair and wears a dress, you meet Joel, there's a few random oc's thrown in

Notes: Hi, I hope you enjoy 🥰 if you're feeling saucy after comments and reblogs and thoughts are always welcome! Ty @saradika-graphics for the dividers

As soon as the soles of your worn-out converse hit the wood of the dock, you know you're underdressed. Your old roommate, Sarah, has invited you to spend a few weeks on her father's boat. But as you approach the enormous white yacht docked at the end of the pier, you realize this is no ordinary boat. The yacht's sides are lined with three stories of windows, reflecting the ocean's crystal clear water.

From where you're standing, you can make out a double staircase leading to an upper deck with a circular swimming pool large enough to land a helicopter in. Men and women in matching black and white uniforms pace the decks, preparing the ship to leave the marina.

When Sarah invited you, you had no idea the vacation would be so extravagant. If you had known, you would have packed something nicer than your department store shorts and tank tops. Truthfully, you don't own anything that would make you feel undressed on a yacht that likely costs more than a private island.

"Wow," you say to yourself.

"What was that, miss? Is there something I can help you with?" The driver asks you.

"Oh, sorry, no, I’m fine. Thank you, though," you answer sheepishly.

"Don’t worry about your bags, miss. Someone from the ship will be down shortly to get them and take them to your room."

Sarah sent a Cadillac to the airport to bring you to the private dock her father owns. You appreciate the gesture more than she knows because even though you accepted her vacation invitation, you're on a very tight budget. Splurging for a taxi from the airport to the Florida coast would have left you choosing between buying textbooks or food when your next semester starts.

This vacation marks the beginning of a massive change in your life. After graduating with your Master’s Degree from NYU, you got accepted into Harvard Law School. You'll be moving out of New York City at the end of the summer and getting a new start.

You worked at a hole-in-the-wall bar to pay your tuition and barely scraped together rent each month from your tips. You lived in an apartment that you shared with your two roommates, Lin and Aubrey. You're not renewing your lease on that dilapidated and overpriced apartment, and the thought of finally getting to quit your job is a fantastic feeling.

After all of the excitement of opening your acceptance letter from Harvard, you notice a shift in the one person you thought would remain your constant through all of the change. That person is Todd, your boyfriend of two years. He dumped you with no explanation the night before graduation.

So when you receive a text from Sarah inviting you on a vacation, you accept without hesitation. You're still hurting from the breakup and wanting to be anywhere other than New York.

"Miss?" A woman in a white polo and black knee-length skirt asks you.

"Uh, yes."

"If you will follow me. Miss Miller is waiting for you."

"Of course," you say with a small smile. It's typical that Sarah would send someone to get you rather than meet you at the dock herself, but you ignore it. You're on a once-in-a-lifetime vacation, and you're going to enjoy every minute of it.

As you reach the deck with the swimming pool, you hear a high-pitched version of your name being yelled and you instantly remember why Sarah and you are friends. She has a way of making you feel special.

Sarah is lounging on a deck chair in a glamorous white bikini with a blue chiffon kimono. As she stands to greet you, you're surprised she's wearing high heels. You thought women only did that on the runway–or maybe in certain kinds of movies....

"Sarah! It is so good to see you. You look amazing, by the way." You're not surprised to see that Sarah already has a pink fruity drink in her hand.

"Oh, thanks. Daddy bought me a new yacht wardrobe while we were in Paris. Isn't this bikini just to die for?" She asks.

"It really is." You smile with your response.

"You look cute too. You’re always dressed like you're in a Gap advertisement."

Your smile almost falters, but you catch it before Sarah notices. You had almost forgotten how Sarah can make you feel special one moment and two feet tall the next.

"The yacht is gorgeous. I had no idea what to expect; I’ve never been on a boat like this before." You admit while brushing off Sarah's previous comment.

"I figured this would be a big treat for you. It’s a shame most of my other friends have a fashion show in London. Anyway, I am glad you could make it."

"I'm glad I could make it too," you say, still trying to maintain your smile.

Sarah snaps her fingers at a young man cleaning the pool while wearing a uniform that indicates he is part of the yacht’s staff. He immediately stops what he's doing, brings over a second pink drink, and hands it to you.

"Thank you so much," you say to him with a sympathetic smile. You take a small sip and are sure you will be having many more of these; it's delicious. The pineapple juice perfectly complements the rum.

"Good, right? It’s a Caribbean rum punch." Sarah says, clearly watching the enjoyment on your face.

"It’s really good. I’ve made these for customers before, but I haven’t had the chance to try one."

"Oh, you still work at that little dive bar?" Sarah asks, but she is clearly uninterested and does not intend to wait for your answer. "You are going to love the yacht," she continues without skipping a beat. "Daddy bought it last year; it is much better than his old one. You and I will be on the second floor, right off this deck, with the pool. Daddy is on the third floor in the main suite. He has a whole deck to himself, but each of our rooms has its own balcony."

You had not had a room to yourself in six years. In your apartment, all three of you shared one bedroom because you couldn’t possibly afford anything bigger. The thought of a room and a balcony all to yourself feels almost too good to be true.

"That sounds amazing, Sarah. I can not begin to thank you enough for inviting me. You have no idea how badly I needed this. I just went through the worst break -"

Sarah cuts you off before you can finish.

"Daddy keeps to himself. He says he has work to do or something like that. So most of the time, we will have the ship to ourselves. It's going to be the biggest party. Daddy even hired a DJ as part of the staff after I begged him."

"Who is us?" You ask wondering how many people she has invited.

"You, me, my boyfriend, and a few other friends. Everyone else will be coming a bit later. They’re taking Megan's private jet, so they'll get in just before we set sail.”

Part of you is nervous to meet the rest of Sarah’s friends. People who have their own private jets are not your usual crowd. However, you feel a bit relieved that there will be other people to entertain Sarah so you can find some time for yourself to relax. Sarah is the type of person who can party for hours on end. She always has to go to one more party, one more bar, or one more club before calling it a night.

“Maybe don’t mention to the others that you could only afford to fly commercial. If you do, at least lie and say you flew first class.”

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend Sarah,” you say, purposely trying to change the subject. “How long have you been seeing him?” Sarah must have changed more than you realized, because in the past she never would have settled for one man. Sarah knows this and flaunts it. She has a line of guys wanting to date her and she likes it that way.

“We have been seeing each other for four months now. He is absolutely amazing. You are going to love him. Plus he's super hot!” She gushes.

“Well, I can’t wait to meet him,” you say with a bit of a laugh.

“You will soon, he just went to our rooms to get his sunglasses. Oh, here he comes now,” Sarah says with a huge smile lighting up her face.

He walks out onto the deck, wraps an arm around Sarah’s waist, and pulls her in for a kiss. Then he turns to you as though you had never met.

“Hey, I’m Todd.”

“Todd?” you say, completely dumbfounded by the fact that your very recent ex-boyfriend is standing in front of you with his arm around Sarah.

“Yea, I’m Sarah's boyfriend. She told me one of her old roommates would be joining us.”

“Um, yea.” You respond awkwardly. At first, you don’t understand why Todd would act like he doesn’t know you, but then a lump forms in your throat. Sarah says they have been together for four months.

“Hey, you should go get changed, and we can all go up to dinner together. We're eating on the rooftop deck tonight.” Sarah says, completely missing the strangeness of your interaction with Todd. She snaps her fingers again at another member of the yacht staff. “Will you show her to her room?”

“Of course. If you will follow me,” the woman says and starts walking towards the double doors leading into the ship.

You glance back at Todd and Sarah and quickly wish you hadn’t. Todd is kissing her again, and then he winks at you as his hand starts sliding down her back. You turn away quickly before you have to see where his hand lands.

“You are in the first room to the right.”

“Thank you so much-” you pause.

“Molly.”

“Thank you so much, Molly. Also, I'm sorry about the snapping. I work as a bartender and always hate when people snap to get my attention.”

Molly smiles genuinely at you after your comment. “Thank you, but we are all used to Sarah and her ways. There is an intercom in your room. If you need anything, just press the button, and someone downstairs will respond.”

You nod and open the door to your room, but room is an understatement. The size and luxury of the room are unlike anything you have ever experienced. The main room houses a king-size bed covered in a white silk comforter. There is also a lounge area with two modern black leather sofas. And your suitcase is already waiting for you on an ottoman at the foot of the bed.

You sigh and throw yourself onto the bed face down in the comforter. It seems like a bad dream that Todd is here, pretending he doesn’t know you, let alone date you for two years.

You were comfortable, and your relationship was secure, or so you thought. It started with little things, like Todd bailing on plans you'd made and how he stopped inviting you to spend any time at his place.

Aubrey was always suspicious of Todd, but you never questioned him. Because you knew, deep down, he was cheating on you, but you went on pretending because it was easier than losing him. You didn’t have to pretend for very long because he dumped you the day before graduation.

You cried for hours on the living room couch as Lin and Aubrey comforted you and supplied you with all the ice cream you could eat. You picked yourself up the morning of graduation and packed away your pain. You would not let Todd, or anyone else, see you beaten; you thought maybe that would make you a good lawyer one day.

You walked across that stage and accepted your diploma with a giant smile on your face because you truly earned it and right after the ceremony, you let yourself fall into misery again.

And now he's dating Sarah.

Sarah had said that they’d started dating four months ago, which meant that Todd was definitely cheating on you. It was just hard to believe that he cheated on you with one of your friends.

Sure, Sarah and you fell in and out of touch as your lives drifted apart, but it still made the betrayal hurt more.

During college, you were very different people. Sarah attended NYU for the party life and never missed an opportunity to go out and have fun. You spent most of your time studying to ensure you didn’t lose your scholarship. Even though you had your differences, you got along for the most part, and while you were living together, you became close friends.

You allow yourself a few more moments of self-pity before pulling yourself off of the bed. You didn't let Todd see you beat at graduation, and you aren't going to let him see it now.

You make your way to your suitcase and roll it into the connecting ensuite. As you walk through the double doors of the ensuite, you are shocked again by the sheer size of the yacht. You take your time unpacking each item of clothing and hanging it in the closet. You pick out a black knee-length dress, which is the nicest thing you have brought, and change into it.

Just as you finish touching up your makeup, you hear the click of the door latch opening.

“Hey, are you ready? Everyone else is here, and we are all heading up to eat,” Sarah says while she bursts into the room without bothering to knock.

“Yeah. Perfect timing. I just finished.” You walk out of the ensuite and see her standing in a floor-length dress made of silvery fabric. She takes one quick look at you outfit and says nothing, obviously unimpressed by your simple choice. You follow her out into the hallway, where three women and four men in black tie attire talk among themselves.

Sarah makes quick introductions, but the only name you catch is that of the tall brunette woman, Megan, the one with the private jet. Your hands are already starting to sweat, and you're honestly grateful that most of the other guests ignore your presence as waiters bring plate after plate of food and set it in front of each of you.

“Megan, how was the flight here?” Sarah asks.

"Oh, it's the worst. My mom has to take the big jet to Japan for a business conference, so I'm stuck with the little jet. Hudson nearly hit his head on the ceiling because it's so small." Megan throws a seductive look at the tall man with blond hair and piercing blue eyes.

"Well, I'm sure you didn't have the worst flight. She had to fly commercial," Sarah says, gesturing towards you.

"You poor thing. I've never flown commercial, but I hear it's horrible. Do you really have to sit next to strangers?"

"Yeah, you do, but not in first class." You say remembering that Sarah had told you to say you flew first class even though you didn't.

It's typical of Sarah to throw you under scrutiny when you had planned to avoid talking about how you got here or anything else to do with money, for that matter. Luckily, the one dig at you seems to be enough for Sarah because she gets distracted by Todd.

"You are the sexiest woman I have ever met," Todd says as he runs his hand up Sarah's arm.

"You two are the absolute cutest," the woman sitting on your right says.

"Oh, I know, right? It's so fun that we are equally numbered men to women," Megan says, throwing another look at Hudson, who seems completely clueless.

You eat your meal in silence and try your best not to watch Sarah and Todd. However, it's hard to ignore the fact that Todd has abandoned his meal and is instead licking Sarah's neck. She laughs, runs her fingers into his mess of brown curls, and pulls his face to hers.

You make it all the way to dessert before you can't take it anymore and quietly slip away from the table. Of course, no one sees you leave; if they did, no one cares.

As the door closes behind you, a few tears start streaming down your face. You have to get back to your room before anyone finds you crying. You quickly wipe the tears from your cheeks and do your best to keep any more from falling.

The day's events have finally hit you in full force. You're angry and hurt that Todd has been cheating on you the whole time, and now you have to spend your vacation watching him and Sarah together.

You're so distracted in your thoughts that you run straight into a rock-solid chest.

You had hoped you just ran into one of the yacht's staff members, but you quickly realize the man is not wearing the uniform. All you can see is a suit jacket. You pull back and continue to try to hold back your tears.

"I am so sorry; I should have been watching where I was going," you say while trying to plan your escape.

When you look up at who you ran into, you're met with the most beautiful brown eyes you've ever seen.

"Are you okay, Miss?”

—♡—

Joel is walking down the hallway on his way to the upper deck when he hears a loud burst of laughter. He sighs in frustration; this was supposed to be a quiet escape from work, yet his yacht is full of a bunch of twenty-year-olds.

He had invited Sarah, as a way to spend a bit of time together this summer. Then Sarah asked if she could bring her new boyfriend along, and he agreed without much thought.

Joel met Todd earlier in the week over breakfast, and he seemed like a good kid. He works in finance for his father’s financial firm in New York, so they immediately have so much to talk about.

He is very complimentary of Joel's recent purchase of Explore Air, the second airline that he now owns. It truly is a good purchase, and he has big plans for expansion.

Joel is impressed that Sarah has picked someone who is putting down roots, and he seems like a stable choice. Sarah has never introduced him to a boyfriend before, so he is taking their relationship seriously.

Having her boyfriend join them would be an easy way for him to get to know him better and also give Joel a little more time for himself, which is probably a little selfish. It’s not that he doesn’t love his daughter; he finds it difficult spending time with his daughter; they aren’t very close. He had only found out she existed fourteen years ago, and trying to connect with a ten-year-old with whom he has nothing in common has not been easy.

It doesn’t help that he has bought her everything she could possibly ask for–for the last fourteen years. In the beginning, he did it to make up for missing the first ten years of her life, but after that, it just became easier than dealing with her when she didn’t get what she wanted.

Sarah is now a spoiled and entitled twenty-four-year-old with no plans for her life other than partying and spending as much money as possible.

In classic Sarah fashion, his agreement to let her bring her boyfriend along turned into her filling each one of his guest rooms with her rich and arrogant friends. Sarah also hired a DJ against his wishes, but after a hysterical outburst where she accused him of not loving her, she got her way, just like always. So his quiet and relaxing vacation with his daughter quickly turned into him hosting a summer-long party.

Before he heads to his stateroom, he figures he better play the welcoming host and go up to greet Sarah and her friends. As Joel turns a corner, he bumps into someone. The woman has her head down, so all he can see is her hair.

“I am so sorry; I should have been watching where I was going,” the woman says.

When her eyes finally meet Joel’s, he is surprised it looks like she is fighting tears.

“Are you okay, miss?” Joel says in response. He feels dumb as soon as the words are out of his mouth. She, very obviously, is not okay.

“Yes. I’m just heading back to my room, uh, sir,” she says as she straightens up, obviously not wanting to be caught crying.

“Oh right,” Joel replies, suddenly realizing that she called him sir, so she must be one of the maids.

He starts picking through his memories, trying to remember when he’d hired her. Reggie must have been the one to interview her because he surely would have remembered a woman so captivating.

“Before you do that, would you head up to my stateroom and unpack my luggage? I'm afraid it's been delivered later than usual. Had some business I had to attend to before leaving port, and I didn't get here as early as I would have liked.”

“Oh - I am - Uh -” she starts staring at the floor.

Joel stands waiting for her response. He thinks it is cute how flustered she is; perhaps it's because he makes her nervous. That's pretty common with new hires, but oddly, she makes him feel a bit flustered, which is completely uncommon.

“Yes,” she stammers.

“Thank you so much -” he says with a smile, leaving a pause in hopes that she would tell him her name, but she quickly turns and heads in the opposite direction. He can't help but stare as she walks away. As she slips around a corner and out of sight, he sighs, knowing he needs to make an appearance upstairs.

Joel walks out onto the deck, where a large dining table is placed and decorated with an extravagant centerpiece. The stars reflect over the ocean and create a stunning backdrop for his daughter's dinner party. He is really impressed at how well the staff has done at transforming this space, most likely with very particular instructions from Sarah.

“Daddy!” Sarah screams as he makes his way out onto the deck. She screams a lot, but he notices most girls her age do. Thankfully it looks as though their dinner party is just wrapping up; waiters are clearing away everything from the table.

Sarah runs over and hugs him.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he says kissing the top of her head. “Is everything goin' alright?”

“Everything has gone perfectly so far. The yacht is so awesome; I think my friends could die out of jealousy.”

Joel remains silent, not knowing how to respond to Sarah's need to be the envy of other people. He would leave figuring that out to her mother, Marnie. They hardly speak other than when she needs money from him, which is more often than he'd like.

“Good evening, Mr. Miller,” Todd says as he makes his way over and shakes Joel's hand.

“S'good to see you again, Todd.”

“Likewise. I’d like to discuss a real estate investment I'm working on for a client when you have the time. I would love to get your opinion.”

“Of course. We can talk about it tomorrow night over some drinks.”

“I look forward to it, Mr. Miller.”

Joel continues to greet Sarah's friends and make small talk for as long as he can manage. He makes his exit by lifting a glass of champagne in the air and toasting, “To an amazing summer.”

Sarah's friends echo his toast, followed by cheering and chatting amongst themselves. Joel slips out and heads over to a hidden elevator, which goes up one more floor where his room and private deck are located. He really hopes that the group makes their way to their rooms soon. He's exhausted and can not wait to slip into sleep.

He opens the double doors to his room and is slightly disappointed that the maid he met earlier was already gone. His suitcase was missing from where he left it, so she must have come and gone while he was greeting my guests.

He immediately makes his way to the bar cart and pours himself a glass of whiskey taking a long sip of his drink, he can't stop his mind from wandering back to the maid he ran into. It’d been a long time since someone had caught his attention as she did. She did seem much younger than him, though. He wasn’t sure that would be a problem.

He walks over to the screen mounted on the wall next to the door, and at the press of a button, the wall of windows at the far end of the room slid open, eliminating the barrier between his living room and private deck. That feature was one of the main reasons he purchased this particular yacht. He thought there would be nothing better than feeling the ocean breeze and hearing the waves even while hiding away in his stateroom.

He steps onto his deck and could see the dinner party continuing without him one deck below. The muffled sounds of conversation and laughing are the only sound drifting up to him.

Joel sips his drink and watches the white foamy waves follow the yacht as they move through the water. It's the only way he can tell they're moving as the sky darkens to a deep blue. He sits back, relaxing, and imagines the woman's eyes staring back at him.

—♡—

“Are you okay, miss?” the attractive man asks after you run directly into him.

“Yes. I’m just heading back to my room, uh, sir,” you respond.

“Oh, right,” he says, lost in thought. He pauses for a few seconds and then continues.

You stumble over your words, mortified that he clearly thinks you are a member of the staff rather than a guest on the yacht. However, you suppose you look nothing like the typical guests.

“Yes,” you finally say, deciding it is easier than trying to explain the mix-up. He thanks you and continues standing there, staring at you, making sure you are actually going to go unpack for him.

You quickly turn and head back down the long hallway. You must be headed in the right direction because the man does not tell you otherwise. Unfortunately, this is leading you in the opposite direction of your room.

You take a few turns, trying not to accidentally run into the man again and have to explain that you don’t work for him. You should have just told him from the start, but he startled you, and you got a bit distracted staring at his face.

He has a very nice face and a very nice body, and you can’t stop thinking about him. It isn’t too long before you are completely turned around; the ship is so outlandishly large.

Exhausted and embarrassed, you find a small alcove off of the main hallway, lean your back against the wall, and slide to the floor. You just need a minute to yourself to get control of your emotions, but a door opens next to you and cuts that time short.

You jump to your feet and smooth your hands over your dress.

“Hello, I don’t think we’ve met,” the man says. He is very clean-cut, with smooth black hair and freckles dusting his cheeks. You guess that he isn’t much older than you are.

“I’m a friend of Sarah’s,” you introduce yourself, not wanting to get mistaken for part of the staff again.

“Oh, wonderful. I hope you’re enjoying yourself,” he says with a genuine smile. You feel at ease in his presence, happy to have finally found someone who isn’t already judging you.

“I am, but I may need some help. I ran into someone down the hall, who mistook me for one of the maids and asked me to unpack for him. I don’t want anyone to get into trouble if it doesn’t get done,” you say, slightly embarrassed. “Can you help me?”

“Oh, I’m so sorry that happened to you. Do you know who it was?”

“Uh, it was a man wearing a very nice suit - but that probably doesn’t narrow it down much.”

“Not exactly,” he says with a sympathetic grin.

“He was tall with dark brown hair that perfectly complements his brown eyes. He had a concrete jaw that was peppered with black and silver facial hair. His voice was deep, had a southern accent, and he smelled like sandalwood,” you say, picturing the man in your head.

After a few moments, you realize you’ve said way too much. If you could have jumped off the railing and into the ocean, you would have.

“That is Mr. Miller,” he says quickly, saving you from further embarrassment. “I am his intern, so I can make sure someone goes and takes care of his luggage.”

Did he say… Mr. Miller? As in, Sarah’s dad?

“Thank you so much,” you say. “You will have to forgive me. It’s been a long night, and I’ve been so rude and haven’t asked your name.”

“You can call me Reggie.”

“Well, thank you so much, Reggie. Can I ask you for one more favor?”

“Of course,” Reggie says with his signature smile.

“I got a little turned around after leaving the dinner party upstairs, and I’m not sure how to get back to my room.”

“It would be my pleasure to escort you back to your stateroom, Miss,” he says and offers you his arm.

“Thank you so much,” you say as you take his arm, absolutely delighted by the gesture.

Reggie is leading the way back to your room when he says, “Please don’t hold it against Mr. Miller for mistaking you for part of the staff. He has been under a lot of stress lately and passed the hiring off to me. Since you weren’t at the dinner party, it’s likely he just figured that you were a new hire. He really is a kind person and would have never intentionally offended you.”

“He didn’t offend me. I know I don’t fit with Sarah’s other friends, so it was an easy mistake to make. I could have straightened everything out, but I was a little distracted by some personal issues.”

“Do you need to vent?” Reggie asks innocently.

“It’s just that I went through a really difficult breakup, and I hoped this trip would help me get my mind off of him. It hasn’t worked out that way,” you say, trying to remain as vague as possible.

“I’m very sorry. Was it a long relationship?”

“Two years.”

“Ouch. Well, just give it a bit more time. With what Miss Miller has scheduled, I’m sure you will have plenty of distractions to keep your mind off of things.”

You laugh. “I’m sure you’re right. There is never a dull moment with Sarah around.”

Just as your conversation wraps up, you reach your door. You are so relieved to be back in your room that you could have hugged Reggie. You feel like you could talk to him about anything, and it helps you to feel as though there is at least one person on this ship who has not immediately judged you.

“Thank you so much for all of your help, Reggie. I don’t know what I would have done had I not run into you.”

“I’m here to help anytime. That goes for all of the staff on the yacht. If you need anything at all, just ask.”

You nod as Reggie walks away, and you slip into your room.I You head straight to the bathroom for that giant tub you discovered earlier. You have never been so in need of washing away the events of a day before.

You soak for almost an hour when the water starts getting cold, you reluctantly pull yourself out and wrap yourself in a fluffy bath towel.

You change into your pajamas, a pair of gray shorts, and a Harvard T-shirt. Your grandfather sent you the T-shirt as soon as you told him you’d been accepted; he was so proud.

You pull out your phone to send him a quick text telling him that you are okay. You should have sent it as soon as you arrived, but you forget in the chaos of seeing Todd with his arm around Sarah's waist.

You type out a quick message reading, "Hi Gramps. I made it safe. I will keep you updated. Love you." When you go to hit send, you realize you have no service. So not only would you not be able to contact your grandpa, but you can't update Lin and Aubrey about this horrible situation you are in. You sigh in defeat and toss your phone onto the bed.

Instead of talking with your friends, you use the intercom system in your room to call down for a cup of chamomile tea. You are shocked at how quickly there is a knock at your door. You take the tray and make your way out onto your private balcony.

The balcony is large enough to fit a lounge chair and a small breakfast table. You quickly make plans to put that to use in the morning. It would be amazing to sip your coffee and listen to the sound of the ocean.

You take a seat on the lounge chair and place your tray in front of you. A tiny teapot and matching cup are accompanied by a small plate of macaron cookies. You pour yourself a cup of tea and bite into one of the pink, dainty cookies.

You can't help thinking that this vacation would be perfect if you could spend the whole time in this room. Unfortunately, you would have to come out eventually and face Todd. You could have told Sarah the truth about Todd being your ex, but now that you are sailing, you have no escape.

It would have made the rest of the vacation unbearably awkward if you'd told Sarah. You have to keep this secret, at least until you are all back on land. A flash of shame hits you when you remember the other secret you would have to keep from Sarah.

The fact that you are undeniably attracted to her dad.

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #joel miller smut

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syntheticavenger · 2 months

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Heart of Glass - Part Eight

Since it's been a year... I give you my latest installment. A little self-conscious with this chapter but I hope I got it right. Let me know what you think. I’d like to thank Victoria Monet’s ‘Cadillac’ for the inspiration for this chapter.

Heart of Glass Masterlist

Therapist! Curtis Everett x Female Reader

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, language, oral sex (f receiving), handjob, unprotected sex, aftercare.

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary | A bad breakup lands you in the office of Dr. Curtis Everett, who seeks to help you further at the request of your local therapist, due to his renowned talent in his niche profession.

Cameras flash, voices carrying over each other to get your attention. Curtis’ fingers are intertwined with yours, leading you through the small path allotted by security from the restaurant to the waiting car. The act of your hand in his own shouldn’t elicit such a reaction but the understanding that you’ve been touch starved more than you are willing to admit makes you grip his hand tighter.

He wastes no time opening the door for you, closing it while more people shout his name, the lights from the cameras lighting up the car.

“Fuckin’ vultures,” Curtis mutters when he finally gets in, looking at your face. “You alright?”

“I thought they’d be gone by now,” you admit, pressing your hand to your heart to feel your heart beating rapidly. “Does that happen every time you go out?”

“Only when I have a date so, no,” Curtis allows with a wink. “You ready to go?”

At your nod, he accelerates, the car shooting forward as he takes a tight turn, the velocity making you laugh as he heads toward the freeway.

“We’ll be home soon.”

You don’t admit how that makes your stomach flutter at the sound, especially since you know that it isn’t your home he’s mentioning.

When he helps you out of the car, he gives you a spin, letting you go before he closes the door behind you. Holding out his hand, you take it, Curtis leading you up the steps of his house.

Every single house looks like it could have been taken out of a magazine, an architect’s dream as you slightly look back, careful of your steps as you go up the stairs slowly. More importantly, you’re aware of he holds your hand in his own, his fingers warm against your own.

When he opens the door, your mouth parts in surprise, the entry like a bridge to the living room, a pond underneath the bridge.

“A pond?” you ask, Curtis standing behind you as you take a step forward to look. “How…”

“It was a surprise to me too when I saw the plans.”

When you get closer, koi fish swim to the surface as you lean over to look.

“A little surprise from my architect at the time. I take good care of these guys,” Curtis says.

“Incredible.”

You can feel his eyes on you when you finally look at him as he nods for you to continue on. Going over the bridge, he’s behind you, your hands nearly touching when you glide your palms on the rails.

“It’s very fancy.”

“I’m more of a minimalist but they’re a nice touch,” he agrees, motioning to the right. “Kitchen is that way.”

Stainless steel appliances and black lacquered cabinets await you, everything carefully decorated when he turns on the light, taking off his shoes in a swift move, padding into the kitchen.

“Pick your poison,” he offers, heading to the built-in wet bar.

“I’ll have a scotch, please.”

“Scotch,” Curtis says with a raise of his eyebrow. “I would have taken you for a gin sort.”

“Gin?”

“Sophisticated. Architects have a way about them.”

“Like what?” you inquire, Curtis handing you your drink as he raises his to yours. The glasses clink slightly before he answers you.

“Complex without being overbearing.”

You take a sip, Curtis following suit.

“Complex,” you repeat. “That’s now how I would describe myself.”

“Then you’re not giving yourself enough credit. Complex doesn’t need to have a negative connotation. Everything about you is complex because you don’t outwardly offer your feelings.”

“I think I’ve been pretty open.”

He laughs at your comment, nodding in agreement.

“But the treatment that I offered, that was complex. Broke a few of my own set rules but it worked. You’re a complex woman and I find that insanely sexy.”

You swallow the last of your drink, seeing him take another sip.

“It’s a good thing that I was cured then. You won’t have to break any more of your rules,” you add, seeing him set down his glass.

“How would you know what other rules I’d be willing to break?”

Your mouth goes dry at his question, licking your lips as he cages you against the wall.

“I was guessing.”

“Hmm,” he replies, his eyes gazing at your body. “There’s only one way to find out. Can I touch you?”

You nod, almost too furiously for your good when he lowers himself down, his hands at your hips, his fingers sliding down the fabric of your dress and down to your bare skin. He doesn’t break eye contact with you, hands slipping under your dress as he pulls the fabric up.

He leans in, kissing your thighs, your own hands rolling into fists as he inches closer and closer to the juncture of your thighs. You can feel his breath, warm and dangerously close when he leans in, keeping you steady when his tongue finds your covered clit, applying just enough pressure for you to whimper.

“Satin is a nice touch,” he tells you, slipping thumbs under the band. “I wouldn’t want to ruin such a pretty pair but I need to see what I’ve been dreaming about.”

He pulls them down slowly, letting them pool at your feet, carefully lifting up each leg so that you’re finally free. The urge to hide from him, to hold your dress in place is overwhelming.

There is a hunger – a desire – in his eyes that you’ve never experienced with anyone else before.

You’re exposed to him, but it doesn’t matter, your eyes on his arms flexing when his thumb slowly swipes against your clit, back and forth until your hips move forward.

“Easy,” he warns gently, tasting you as you swallow hard. “Just like I thought. Amazing.”

You aren’t prepared for how his mouth feels, wet and hot as he’s gentle, learning you centimeter by centimeter, your fingernails scoring against his scalp. Your breath halts when his tongue laves over your clit, over and over until you forget to breathe again.

“You okay?”

Nodding, your head falls back against the wall when you feel his fingers ease up inside you.

Stretching, caressing keeping time with the tempo of his mouth on your clit.

“C…”

There’s no use in trying to finish saying his name, your hands holding him in place as he brings you to the brink, your legs buckling before you feel him hold you up as you shatter.

“One so far,” he says, looking up at you with a sly smile. “We’re barely getting started.”

He stands up fluidly, your boldness peaking when you pull on his shirt to bring him closer.

“One of how many?” you ask, seeing his devious smile.

“That depends,” he replies. “How many do you want to give me?”

There’s no set number in your mind, only the want – need – to have him that propels you forward, your lips on his, tasting yourself that only spurns you to kiss him deeper as he takes control, his hand at the side of your neck, breaking the kiss to turn your head slightly, drawing your skin into his mouth as he sucks it gently but deep enough that you can feel the sweet pressure and sends shockwaves down to your belly.

“I’ll give you a choice,” he says, breaking the kiss. “Dress on or off before you go upstairs.”

You’ve never been exposed like this before, especially knowing the only thing you’ll be wearing are your heels.

Whatever you choose, you’ll know he’ll accept without question. The freedom to decide how you’ll end up in his bed may be insignificant to him – though you hope not – it feels freeing to know that he’s letting you make the decision.

Turning around, you hear it: the slight suck in of his breath, looking over your shoulder as your eyes plead silently for him to help you.

“Bold move,” he praises, his fingers unzipping your dress.

As it slips down your shoulders, his lips brush against the tops of your shoulders and at the back of your neck when it pools at your feet.

“Absolutely unreal,” Curtis says, taking your hand as he turns you around in a circle, his appreciative gaze making you even wetter than you thought possible.

“Up the stairs and to the left,” Curtis directs. “I’ll be right behind you.”

Every step you take, your insecurities come racing back. Despite every body being a good body, you’re aware of your own shortcomings, the ones you see in the mirror when the confident façade slips. You’re aware of how your hips sway, certain imperfections that you can only imagine will be amplified with you only wearing your black stilettos.

“You look absolutely perfect,” he says behind you, as if he’s reading your mind.

“I’ve never been this… exposed,” you whisper in the darkness, Curtis right behind you as you can feel his arousal, cradled right between your ass.

“I guessed since tt’s taking you a while to get up the stairs. Not that I’m complaining in the slightest,” he assures you, kissing your cheek. “But you’re going to kill me with that perfect view.”

A slight tap of his hand against your ass makes you involuntarily moan, gripping the banister for a moment as you look back at him.

“You’re dripping,” he says, his eyes wandering between your thighs. “Making a nice mess if I do say so myself.”

You finally reach the top of the stairs, the cool air doing nothing to stop the ache between your legs when you make the left toward his room. You’ll marvel at the work of his upstairs when you’re not thinking about how you’re going to get wrecked, Curtis pushing the door open for you as you step into his room.

Black silk sheets.

“It’s not fair, you know,” you finally say, turning your body to face him. “I’m the only one underdressed.”

“I don’t think I’d look as good as you do,” Curtis answers you, beginning to unbutton his shirt. “But I can oblige if you want.”

“I want to help.”

His hands lower to his sides, letting you take over to finish unbuttoning his shirt, your hands resting on his chest. Tattoos are etched on his chest, your fingers outlining them as you trail down, unbuckling his belt as you see his Adam’s apple bob, perspiration on his forehead.

“Am I going too slow?”

“You take all the time you need.”

His voice pulls at your core, hands deftly ridding him of his belt and then buttoning his slacks. He’s hard as a rock when you accidently brush against him, his composure strong as steel when you pull down his boxers and pants. His cock springs free, long and thick, your eyes dropping down to look at it appreciatively. Gone are the thoughts of finishing getting him undressed, your hand reaching out to touch him gently, fingers wrapping around the length of him, his eyes closing in response.

“How can you be so calm,” you whisper against him. “I can’t believe I’m…”

Pre-cum makes your grip slicker, his head tilting up as you kiss his throat, his hands going to your face as he kisses you, kicking off his pants. He walks you toward the bed, stopping right when you can feel the bed behind you.

When you reach to take the heels off, he shakes his head.

“I meant what I said. Heels on until I say so.”

He prides himself on self-control. He’s lasted this long with his wits about him, to know that patience is always much sweeter but he knows he can’t wait much longer when your sweet voice pitches as your thighs try to close together, his hands gripping them so you don’t use them as his earmuffs.

All he can think about is how gorgeous you look when you come apart - three times now - just by where he touches, learning your body as you react to his touch. Your lips are parted, chest rising and falling as your hands cover your breasts. It’s laughable for a moment if it wasn’t so excruciatingly painful how badly he wants to be inside you. Your legs are still over his shoulders, Curtis caressing your calves before he looks back at your swollen cunt.

“I’m not going to get enough of how good you taste.”

Your eyes are half lidded, mouth moving but no sound coming out when he carefully eases you off of him, gently removing your heels as they fall to the ground. He kisses your brow, your hands going to his neck to keep him in place.

“You’re gonna kill me,” he admits, his cock nestled between your legs.

“I need you,” you mouth, kissing him deeply and he swears your legs are opening wider when he reaches for the drawer. “I want to just feel you. I’m clean.”

You’re bartering, his smile against your lips as you kiss him again. You’re uninhibited, vulnerable and the progress you’ve made makes him greedy, a flash of possessive that he shuts out when he kisses down your neck.

“Me too but it’s still dangerous,” he warns gently, seeing you shake your head slowly, nodding to your arm.

“Implant. You can’t leave a legacy,” you tease, your eyes closing in bliss when he’s cradled against your entrance. “I want you, I’ve tried to ignore it but -”

That’s all he needs, inching slowly inside you as your fingernails score his back. You’re tight, wet and hot, gritting his teeth as he tries to maintain what shreds of composure he has left, reaching the hilt of you when you left out a soft whimper.

“Did I hurt you?”

“No,” you murmur. “Just…”

“Big?”

He can tell you want to laugh at his joke but he knows the truth, seeing you finally relax before you urge him to move. You’re like a vise, his control slipping with every single thrust, your soft little noises urging him on.

He needs to see ore of you, rolling you onto your side, your thigh on his hip as the new angle makes your mouth drop open, exposing you in a way that makes your fingers give him better access.

You’re close, he can feel the way your silky walls squeeze him tighter, your incessant pleas for him not to stop only urging him on. He commits the way your pretty face looks to memory, knowing that you’ve fundamentally changed how he sees you – how your body reacts to him – and how freely you’ve given yourself to him.

“Fuck,” he grits out, keeping you in place as he cums, filling you as you cling to him.

“Oh god, I… oh, I…” you pant, not letting him go. “I can’t see straight.”

“We’re not done,” he promises, smoothing back your hair as he holds you close. “Not by a long shot, four.”

“Five,” you whisper against his lips, closing your eyes.

Your eyes are barely open when you feel the slight dip in the bed, a glass of water in front of you.

“You need to drink something,” Curtis reminds you softly, rubbing your back in soothing circles. “I ran you a nice bath. Just waiting for you.”

“What time is it?”

“Two or three,” he answers, kissing your cheek.

“Mmm,” you mumble, eyes closing again. “I’ll get up if you come with me.”

“That was the plan.”

#curtis everett #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett x black female reader #curtis everett fic

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elviswhore69 · 4 months

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The Road Home.

-WARNINGS -

Male receiving - hair pulling - making our - ass slapping - choking - dirty talk - arguing - praising - public sex (sort of) - use of daddy in a sexual way 2 or 3 times. I THINK THATS ALL BUT IM NOT SURE IM SORRY IF THIS ISNT GOOD THIS IS MY FIRST TIME WRITING SMUT. PLEASE TELL ME IF I SHOULD CHANGE ANYTHING.

You and Elvis had been ignoring eachother ever since you both left his best friend Joe Esposito's house. You accidentally said something you shouldn't of.. something a little personal about Elvis that he had only told you.

You didn't expect Elvis to be mad, you thought he would laugh it off and maybe tell you not to say it again but no, he was furious with you. He dragged you by your arm all the way to his black Cadillac in the front yard, opened your door, sat you down, and shut the door. He went around the car and got in, turned the car on, and drove away.

Elvis was usually the type to put music on in the car but he didn't. You both sat in silence. The only sound being the the engine of the car. You thought about saying your sorry for what you said but you decided to stay quiet instead.

You kept thinking of ways to make it up to him but all that kept coming up was to touch him. Your thoughts soon took over as Elvis was stopped at a red light, left hand on the bridge of his nose with his eyes shut. You knew that it was the perfect time, it would be unexpected.

You slowly moved your left hand over the center console and down to his right thigh, gliding it over his bulge. He opened his eyes to the sudden feeling. "Y/n. What are you doing." He asks. "J-just trying to m-make it up to you E.." ypu reply. "Y/n if you ever say some' like that again there's gonna be consequences. You embarrassed me in front of m' best friend." He says.

"I know Elvis and I said I'm sorry." You respond through gritted teeth. "Excuse me lil girl? Who do you think your talking to? Don't you get smart with me." He asks. " I'm talking to you Elvis. I said I'm sorry and you just made it seem like I meant to embarrass you on purpose." You say out of honestness.

" Baby I'm telling you right now if you don't lose that godamn attitude I will pull this fucking car over and make you suck my cock right there and not in here." he says. "Then do it E" you snap.

He looks for a good spot to pull over and when he finds a truck spot he knows it's perfect. He turns right to pull in, parks the Cadillac in a parking spot near the back of the parking lot, shuts the car off, unbuckles his seat belt and yanks you out of the car when he makes it around the car.

"Get out y/n" he says impatiently. "Make me." You bark. "Wanna give me a goddamn attitude y/n, really? Get the fuck out now." He suddenly yanks you out of the car by your wrist and pinning you to the car door by your throat. He chokes you lightly and presses his mouth to yours quickly giving you no time to breathe.

He pries your mouth open with his tounge, dipping it in your delicate mouth, his leather gloves burning your neck. He lets go of your neck staring at you for a second before slowly moving to whisper in your ear "Get down and suck my cock yeah darlin?" You have no choice but to get down on your knees on the hard cold concrete.

You glide your hands up his big meaty thighs up to the zipper of his navy blue dress pants, slowly unzipping them before massaging his cock through his boxers making a grunt slip past his perfect lips. "Take it out y/n c'mon." You obliged and pull his cock out of his boxers. You almost gasp at the size of him. You have been with Elvis for 8 years. It's not like you've never sucked his dick before he's just so.. big down there it shocks you.

You grasp his cock in your right hand and slowly pump him, teasing him for being so mean. All of a sudden he grabs a handful of your hair and guides your mouth onto his length, shoving your head down until your nose hits his base which leaves you gagging with spit coming out of the side of your mouth.

"Fuck baby that's good." He moans out loud. He then pulls you off of his cock leaving you choking at the new found freedom of air. "We aren't done." He says quickly while yanking you up, lifting your skirt up and moving your thong out of the way of your pussy. You gasp at how quick he was with that.

He grabs his dick and runs it along your slit nudging your beautiful clit with every swipe of his hard cock. Without warning he enters you. You were so wet his cock just went right in. He entered you with a loud groan and you helped back.

"Fuck y/n your still so godamn tight." He moans as he slowly begins to pound into your needy wet pussy. "E-" you begin but he suddenly has his hand right over your mouth. "Shut your fucking mouth y/n I don't want to hear it, you have said enough. Now let me use your fucking pussy" he snapped.

You can't deny the fact that you loved when he was aggressive but you were just scared about the people who might see you being railed up against a car on the side of a highway.

He moves his hand from your waist to your hair forming a ponytail to bring your head back on his shoulder to look at your pretty fucked out face. "Oh yeah baby your so fucking hot." He says as he prys your mouth open with his middle and ring fingers in order for you to suck on them. You quickly take his fingers in your mouth swirling your tounge around his long thick digits moaning softly around them while you look at him with a desperate look in your face as he continues to pound into your pussy this time hitting your g spot with so much force your knees buckle underneath you.

He chuckles lowly seeing you fall apart right in front of him. " Ya gonna cum baby? Hm? " He asks. " You know your such a good fucking girl for letting me do this to ya on the side of the road right?" You moan out loud around his fingers as he takes them out. As soon as your mouth is empty you can't help the moans and whimpers that escape you. "E baby plea-ease let me c-cum I'm so close." You moan out. As soon as he hears you say that he brings his wet fingers down to your clit and rubs in fast hard circles in all directions leaving you moaning so loud he grabs your neck and chokes you but not too hard.

"Shh. Baby be quiet your doing s-so fucking good oh my god." He can't help but break slowly as his hips stutter into you and he starts to moan into your neck softly. "Elvis! I'm gonna cum o-oh god!" You say warning him. "Come on baby cum, let daddy feel it. I'm close too." He tells you.

As soon as those words fly out of his beautiful mouth your knees lock and you grip onto the car door moaning and shaking slightly as your vision goes blurry and you cum all over his cock. "Oh yeah y/n. Y' so good for me. I'm gonna cum baby where do you want it?" Before you can even process what he asks you receive a harsh slap on your ass. " I asked ya a damn question." He groans. "I-in me daddy." You say lowly.

"Ohhhh fuck fuck fuck" he groans as he slowly pushes his cock in and out of you releasing warm ropes of his cum into you. He eventually pulls out after he catches his breath putting himself back into his pants and fixing your skirt. As you try to support yourself to stand up your legs fail you and you almost fall. As Elvis catches you falling he asks " was it that good y/n?" "Yes Elvis. It was so good. I'm sorry for what I said earlier." You respond as he seats you into the car.

"Good because when we get home you'll be even more sorry."

#elvis presley #elvis presley smut #elvis smut #smut

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floredaqueen · 1 month

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...𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐏𝐨𝐨𝐥𝐛𝐨𝐲 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧' 𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧'...

𝔹𝕝𝕦𝕣𝕓 18+

𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕠𝕣𝕤 𝔻ℕ𝕀

.♡♡♡.

"You want to what?" Nova questions as she shuts her locker door. She was puzzled by the "Freak's" questions as she walked beside him, holding every single textbook that was in it, along with her already heavy bag. Immediately, before he could say what was on his mine, his hands gravitated towards the heavy load in her hands, taking almost every book to help the socialite carry.

"Work for yo- for your dad," Eddie restates, counting how many more steps she has to take to keep up with him.

Summer was starting soon, but this time, Eddie won't be returning for another year of torure and false hope. He can finally go on with his life. Even as he, without question, lightened her load by taking a few of her textbooks to hold himself, he thought about all the free time he'd have. He might as well spend it doing something productive.. and hanging out with his "special" friend.

They were wayy more than friends, but they didn't put a label on it. Eddie didn't want to admit it, but he suggested it for Nova's sake. He knew she'd be outcasted even more if they became a couple, and it would suck to watch her be chastised and criticized because of him.. and so, begrudgingly, he suggested to keep this arrangement between them.

Nova had an inkling about it but decided not to press the issue for it to turn into an argument.. besides, she knew in a few weeks it wouldn't matter anyway. He'd be able to get rid of the freak stigma surrounding his person, and take what was his. But for now, she was fine with him being her dirty little secret. She enjoyed their time alone anyways, which is why she was skimming past all the job positions her father still needed to fill.

"Can you swim?" She questioned, her dark foxy eyes looking up to the slightly brooding melthead. In response, he offered a shrug and a nod.

"I.. can swim as good as the next guy," His voice became melodic as he spoke.

"Do you have swimwear?" The 2nd-in-command cheerleader asked, watching Eddie's eyebrows furrow as he took a moment to think about where he had put his swim shorts.

"Probably," that response has Nova rolling her eyes.

"What? I haven't been swimming in a long ass time! I also.. don't know where they are," Eddie admitted, obtaining a soft giggle from her as they walked out to the student parking lot. There sat the Freak's band van and the Star's cadillac convertible.

It was a quick trip to Nova's car, both of them setting her books in the backseat before she opened the passenger side to get to the glove compartment. There sat a few of her dad's business cards, Nova grabbing one of them to hand to Ed's.

"Give my dad a call. The only jobs that I think are available are yard groomer and pool boy,"

And with that, she left him on the side of the road with a soft peck on the cheek and a wave as she hightailed it out of the Hawkins High campus.

...

It wasn't that hard for Eddie to get the job, him completely winning over Mr. James, with a few witty jokes and a "ready-to-work," smile, he got the job, both of them, actually. He still didn't know how that happened, but he definitely wasn't complaining. Next thing he knew, he was mowing the grass every Wednesday and cleaning the pool two times a week.

Sometimes, it was quite tiresome, but it did help to see Nova, prancing around in a short dress, a bikini, or barely any clothes at all. It was her house, but it still felt like some type of tease. It was certainly keeping him motivated. Her sneaky little fox smile, her sweet giggles when they would talk a bit on his break, the swell of her ass always finding his groin whenever they'd cross paths around her home.

He was able to ignore it.. until one day.

It was a hot Friday in June, Eddie just finished cleaning the pool so he was putting up all the supplies he had just used. Nothing major, it had only been a few leaves that fell I'm the pool. Other than that, it was mostly clean. Nova knew this, so of course she used it to her advantage.

The metalhead was sweeping up when the socialite walked out, prancing around in a chocolate frilly bikini. The fabric being consumed by her ass had him quietly chuckling and shaking his head. It wasn't quiet enough, though, Nova turning her head as her hands landed on her hips.

"What..?" She questioned, a smile coming to her face. She knew what she was doing, but even so, she played dumb.

Eddie only shrugged, his own goofy smile remaining as he aimlessly swept around.

"Nothing.."

"Something.." She repeated back to him, checking herself out in an outdoor mirror and slightly twisting herself when she turned her back to it.

"What- is there something on my butt?" She asked, checking out her backside in tendem only to find a beautiful curve and back dimples. Eddie found the same thing, trying his best to keep it in his pants and finish up this day.

"No, your butt's fine,"

"Ed's, you're not even sweeping anything anymore." Nova crossed her arms before pointing to the clean surface. The pool boy was mindlessly sweeping. "You've cleaned the walkway entirely,"

Of course, with him being dismissive and her being needy, she walked up to him, using her beauty against him in the only way she could think of. She battered her thick, mascara drenched eyelashes and set her fox eyes in dilation before latching onto his arm.

"Come to the pool with me.. the water is just fine," Her voice turned mellow and sweet. While Nova couldn't see or feel it, she knew Eddie was going to fold. One way or another. But for now, he stayed professional, even if the prettiest girl he's ever seen is shamelessly wanting in his pants.

"I gotta work, sweetheart." His voice is calm, too calm. Within all the time she's known him, he was always known to be so animated. Nova pouted, of course, taking the opportunity to press her lips up against his tatted, muscular arms. He shivered, getting a whiff of the scent in her strawberry maple hair. He only turned to her in nonchalance, his eyes steady even if he wanted to fulfill her wants and needs right then and there.

"Fine.." Nova would huff, backing off of him as she began to relax in one of the floatie reclined chairs. "Will you please get me some lemonade then?" She begrudgingly asked, watching through her blue sunglasses as he sat the broom down.

"No pulp but instead blackberries," the metalhead said to himself as he walked back inside, making his boss's daughter grin stupidly. She only told him that once, and he's never forgotten it since. As forgetful as he likes to act he was always remembering something random about her. How she likes to quote silly things she's seen in movies, or how she likes to fold her socks up in knots after she pulls them off her feet.. or how she likes lemonade with blackberries instead of pulp.

For the rest of the afternoon, the tension was at a low simmer. Eddie would continue working around the pool area, and despite her efforts, avoided creamping Nova against the wall. But by the time 6 pm hit, he was home free. It took him all of thirty minutes to change and back, slipping into black denim and some variation of a sleevless band tee. He carried his duffle to the door when Nova stopped him half way.

"Wait, you're just gonna leave..?" She questioned, a look of surprise on her face.

"Look I gotta get home, or else Wayne'll be pissed," he answered, knowing it was a bullshit excuse because as much as his uncle cared for his safety, he knew where he was. With a heavy disappointed stare, Nova nodded, offering a sweet smile of understanding.

"Okay,"

That crushed him a bit, how even when she knew he was lying through his teeth, she would let him go. It took Eddie all of 5 seconds to walk back through the double doors and smash his lips against hers. She softly exhaled into the kisses.

"You're so damn needy," He rasped breathlessly through the kisses, knowing that he was clinging to the feeling of the warmth in his palms.

"Guilty," She spoke softly in return, no smile or snort, just expressing her need with an intense lip lock.

...

"F-fuck Eds!♡" Eddie found himself lightheaded, his pelvis constantly pounding against the soft, reddened surface that was that plush of Nova's ass. With each yearning thrust, he winced as she whined for more so sweetly. Who was he to deny her such a pleasure?

In no time, her had her on her feet, holding her so tightly against him as he bucked his hips so fiercely. With every slap of his balls came a rippling clinch of her velvet walls. The heels of his feet desperately dug themselves into the sheets, the sounds of her squeals muffled to nothing but a pleasureful note in his mind. It was a constant, nonstop loop of drilling into her soaked and stretched pussy until her thighs began to tremble, lifting herself off of him in habit, the clean slide causing her sweet Ed's to spurt his hot seed as she released gushed her thick squirt.

Then it was right back on for another ride with a slap of her peach buns, By the end of it Nova was sucking the soul from Eddie's very being, gladly taking every inch of his throbbing cock just like he asked.

By the end of it, Eddie was feeding her soft kisses to her everywhere, consoling the petite Nova as she next to him all fucked out and dumbfounded from dick.

"If you wanted to fuck me, you could've just asked.."

"That's what I was doing!"

"Debatable,"

.♡♡♡.

#stranger things #original character #artists on tumblr #stangerthingsoc #cc x oc #eddie stranger things #eddieeeee #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson x fem!oc #eddie Munson x f!oc #fic writer #black fic writer #fic writing

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one-pissed-off-child · 25 days

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vehicle headcanons bc im like. so bored

Lenore 100% rides a motorcycle, most likely a Harley or a Triumph. She enjoys a good street race, but only on remote roads that have been marked off and never spontaneously or on high ways. She used to do stunts with dirt bikes and atv's before her injury, but it plays hell with her hip now, so she just rides standard. She doesn't drive much, but if she had to get a car, it'd be a classic muscle car like a Firebird. She's an offensive driver insofar as she's more than willing to take a fender bender to prove a point and she will chase a bitch down if they run. Only if it's just her in the car, though. She mostly drives one-handed and rests her right hand on the console (or Annabel's thigh). She does enjoy cruising in a car but not as much as feeling Annabel hug her from behind on a bike

Annabel's ride would be Lenore a Cadillac, Porsche, and an Audi. She switches them out as the occasion calls for it. Her father bought all three. She trades them in for the lastest models every five years or earlier bc she couldn't be caught dead in a model that's gone out of style. People assume she likes being chauffeured around, but being in a vehicle she has no direct control of gives her hives, so 9 times out 10, she's going to be the one driving. The only people she trusts on the wheel are Prospero and Lenore. Very defensive driver bc she's always thinking 20 steps ahead and can smell bullshit from a mile away. She tells people she prefers convertibles for the visibility, but she really just likes watching Lenore hop over the door into the passenger seat.

Ada would sell her soul for a bright pink Porsche. Unfortunately, a brand new one is def out of her price range, and every time she buys a used one that she can afford, it craps out in like five months or so. She's forced to settle on a lightest burgundy Camry she can find at some point and she's bitching about it to everyone that can hear. She is the most godawful driver you will ever see. Road rage like no other. For years, she thought turn signals were a useless formality until a horrified Prospero told her otherwise. The fact that she has a license is the eighth wonder of the world (her tester was severely hungover). She keeps subtly asking to borrow Annabel's Porsche, but Anna just smiles and changes the subject.

Pluto has a crappy little Beetle that he stole from his dad, and to separate it from him would be to cut his heart out with a rusty butter knife. He's also a defensive driver but not in the same way Anna is. He's just very hyperaware of everything, which is great for snap reactions but can cause him to overreact sometimes. Does not play music or take his eyes off the road ever bc he's scared of getting distracted. Prefers taking mainroads bc high way speeds makes him nervous. He loves his car, but he'll typically just take the bus for short distances. The only time he's even marginally relaxed while driving is when his friends are with him, especially Eulalie.

Montessori has a Mustang, and he drives it like an asshole. I'm talking tailgating, cutting, muffler delete, zero turn signal whatsoever, always going at least twenty over, racing randoms on the highway etc etc. Rarely gets road rage, but causes it on a daily basis. One of his favorite plays is talking someone into a race, losing on purpose, betting money on a second race, and smoking their ass with his turbocharger. Yes, his car is kitted with every mod known to man, and yes, it does look like a douchebag owns it. He keeps trying to goad Lenore into a race, and she keeps rejecting him bc 1. She knows his schemes, and 2. She's not entirely convinced he won't try to run her over.

Eulalie prefers not to drive and doesn't own a car. It took forever to get her license bc she's so easily distracted that she's at risk of drifting into other lanes and/or hitting something. She did manage to get it eventually, but having to be constantly vigilant stresses her out, so she just bikes/skates (skateboarder Eulalie real) or uses public transit or grabs a ride from a friend. Despite everything, she's actually a very good and courteous driver when she's paying attention. She stops for pedestrians, bikers, ducks on the road, and so on. Her driving style is very smooth and steady in a way that could lull you to sleep. Until she has to slam the breaks to avoid sailing into oncoming traffic. She thinks it'd be really cool to own a Hearse with a black/purple color scheme, though. She shares a bus pass with Pluto

(Pt.2 cuz this got too long)

#lenore nevermore #annabel lee nevermore #white raven #nevermore webtoon #pluto nevermore #ada nevermore #eulalie nevermore #montresor nevermore #this is so stupid lmao #can yall see my vision tho

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caramelcleopatraa · 2 months

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English: Jealousy: Love Me Like You Say You Do

x: A fictional piece of writing starring Hazel and Roman and an uninvited guest that Hazel’s not a fan of

Parts: Celos: Observación ! Celos: Negación Dolorosa ! Celos: Sucia

English: Jealousy : Observation ! Jealousy: Painful Denial ! Jealousy: Dirty

Saturday

The gray clouds blanketed the sky, crying down an ever ending cycle of rain. or, at least, that’s what she remembered. She hadn’t bothered to look at the sky or the grass that sprouted the beautiful list of flowers, or the anonymous people conversing walking the streets. A rather grim start to her day, no doubt. The natural curious soul didn't seek questions today. Those direct chocolate eyes, spent most of its time admiring the smooth floors in the house, or the dark carpet in the cadillac escalade, or the shiny marble floor that reflected the chandeliers so richly.

Blur. It was all a blur. The people moved past her and just looked like motion blur. Not able to identify their faces. Maybe it was the world around her that was the problem. Or maybe it was her. She was in scrambles. Ignoring the gnawing pain in her head, her chest, her stomach. She finally pushed past her bellowing rage from last night when Tiffany called out Roman publicly. Which confused her, because she never wanted to control him, or argue with him. She never wanted to make him feel like she didn't trust him. And she wasn't even mad at him. Maybe Tiffany. Naturally, Tiffany. But more… at herself.

‘There must be something wrong with me. Is that why he stayed over there longer than usual? Why she decided to touch his arm? Did he lie about what they were talking about? Is there something that I don't know about? I thought he was being honest. I trusted him. Is it something that I'm not doing?’

She dreaded this more than anything. She dreaded that she couldn’t fully devote her attention to her clients. But she tried her best, helping the influx of high end customers, while trying her best to find the answer to the questions that clouded her judgment. What a day this was going to be.

The Cadillac rested in front of the building. 8 o clock. Like clockwork. Never late. Never too early. Just on time. There was no light in her eyes by the time that closing had come around. She was sure that her driver noticed. The fire that would be reflecting in her eyes after work was dull, and dim. And the spark that lit that fire had been nonexistent all day. Finally, she would go home. To her bed. Not to see Roman and talk about all of the customers and their annoying demands, just some sleep. She didn't even want to talk to him. Didn’t want to burden him with her fluctuating feelings. And that's exactly what she did. Stripping off everything as soon as she walked through the front door. She only bid him a small hello, before disappearing into the shower, letting the hot water and steam fill her senses. Hazel knew that Roman would try to ask questions about why she was acting this way, but she wanted to be selfish this one time. Let herself figure out what is going on, and then address him. ‘Yeah. That's what i’ll do’

Sunday

The black silk sheets wrapped around her body till morning. He was up at ungodly hours training, attending meetings, and running errands for the house that Hazel had not gotten to yet. She didn’t want to leave the mold she had made in her bed. She knew that the questions and thoughts regarding Tiffany would hit like a surge storm as soon as she got up. But she has work to do, and the bag doesn’t chase itself. ‘Just, happy thoughts. Breathe. Breathe~ Happy thoughts.’

Friday

A drive home. No special drivers, no assistants. Just her. With guilt eating away at her. She had promised him that she was going to be there. But she just… couldn’t stand being in the same place as the two of them. Whether that was beneficial to her didn’t matter right now. Truth be told, she might try something even more bold since she won't be there, or maybe she took out all of the fun because Tiffany can’t see Hazel’s face in real time when Tiffany torments Hazel. Well it’s too late now. She recognized the brick driveway she had driven over countless times. Slugging herself out of the car, through the front door, and plopping onto the bed. Not even bothering to hang her keys up or take her blouse off. Sleep. That sounded so good right now. Order some pizza, hide behind the covers and go to sleep.

She didn’t remember when everything had meshed together. She didn't even remember hopping in the shower. She barely remembered herself walking through the front door. All she was focused on was distraction. ‘Distract yourself.’ She wondered what he was doing right now. Probably backstage readying up to present himself to the masses. ‘Distract yourself.’ Would he be disappointed in her that she didn’t show up like she said? What if this was the worst day she could’ve missed? ‘Distract yourself Hazel..’ “I miss him.” ‘Hazel...’ She misses her man. her man. She should be in his arms while he waits for his cue. Wishing him good luck and showering his face in kisses. ‘Stop..’ What if Tiffany’s there? ‘Hazel this isn't good..’ Trying to take her place and give him words of affirmation with her kiss-ass tone? And she's not there to stop her. She’s able to do as she pleases. “And then she.. she,” Hazel says, snapping to her senses when she realizes that she’s talking to herself, letting her mind break piece by piece. Because of her. And because she loves him so damn much.

Monday

She tugged on the short crop top, making sure her cleavage was showcased through the top. Well, whatever the scraggly piece of clothing was. She sighs. She was going to figure it out. More provocative maybe? Tiffany’s gear always showcased her tits. No matter, she could do that too. A thin mustard crop top that tied in the front, stopping right at the bra line. With that, skinny ripped jeans that cling onto her body like water, with strappy heels. “Hello ma’am how are you doing this morning?” One of the cleaners that always greeted her on the way in. She replies before heading into her office saying, “Not great. But.. another day, another dollar.”

Friday 12:00pm

5 excruciating days of work. She was so busy that she had forgotten who Tiffany was. Or about Smackdown tonight. Client after client. Hour after hour. Customs after customs. Numb. Yeah, that was the best way to explain it. Just numb. After day two, she was on autopilot. Wake up, shower, put on another promiscuous outfit, bid her goodbyes to Roman, and spend the rest of her time at work. It really was exhausting the amount of work that she forced onto herself. With those demoralizing thoughts that seemed to get worse everyday. ‘One more customer.’ ‘Might have to skip lunch today, too many people in the shop.’ ‘Might have to do extra work at home.’

It was noon on her fifth work day. ‘God. I'm tired.’ She had been sipping on an empty coffee cup, pushing out every ounce of energy she had. And she had forgotten to bring her tupperware filled to the brim with her favorite leftovers. Wonderful. Just wonderful.

“Excuse me Ms. Hazel, Roman is here to see you.”

‘Why? Is he here?’

“Let him in,” Hazel says, sighing while tapping her forehead. A tall figure with a black hoodie and black sweatpants entered the shop carrying a gray disposable bag with a tupperware full of food in it. Roman. He never came to visit her at her job, and she honestly preferred it that way. She gets distracted way too much when he's there. He gently lays the bag on top of the glass display case, observing her lazy face upon his entry.

“You forgot your lunch this morning.” She gave him a quick smile and replied, “Thank you. I didn’t want to order anything today. You saved my ass.” Her hands reach out to him, and he leans forward. Allowing her small hands to grab his face and give him two sweet pecks on his lips.

And they thought the same thing at the same time.

‘His lips are so soft.’

‘Her lips are so soft.’

“When are you coming home?” Roman purrs, still remembering the quick but savored feeling of her lips on his. Meanwhile, she shuffles around her office, picking up stacks of paper and sitting them on her desk.

“Um, probably 11, why?”

“Is this job stressing you out?” She gave him a confused look. When has she ever complained to that extent? She loved her job. “No, of course not. It can get hectic, like many jobs, but I love mine.” He places his hands in his sweatpants pocket, watching her rampage through the first stack of papers. “You know you can have someone else help you out with all of this right? That’s what secretaries and interns are for.” Why was he so concerned for her work load? She always worked a lot. This wasn't the first time she came home late from work.

“You don’t think I can handle this?” He sighs and counters, “I know you can, but I want my woman back.”

“Sweetie, i'm right her-”

“I want you home baby. Vibrant like you used to be. You just look so tired and annoyed now. You’re so silent when you come home. You barely want to touch me when you come home. I’m not saying you can’t handle it. My baby is the best of the best. But this.” He was now behind the looming jewelry glass display case, standing in the doorway to her office and motioning to the bothersome conundrum. More like abomination of a room littered with papers in every spare corner. “This can’t be healthy for you, dear. I can’t tell you how to run your business, but I really think you should find a secretary or someone that can lighten the load for you. Please come home. You don’t need to do all of this bull shit right now. Call me selfish, I don't care. Let me take care of you. Let me ease your stress. Let me do what I do best, for you Hazel.”

She didn’t know what it was that made her cry. Maybe it was his tone of voice. Maybe his looming concern for her health. His beautifully constructed sentences. Maybe all of it. Maybe none of it. Maybe him just being there made hot tears string down her face. He rushed to her side, standing her up and cradling her in his arms while she cried in his shirt. She muttered “I’m sorry,” into his shirt over and over and over. She felt so guilty. She didn’t know that she was hurting him. That was the last thing she wanted. She never wanted him to feel like he did anything wrong. She knew that this was a “her” problem. That was why she even began working so much in the first place. Busy herself and her mind and maybe, just maybe, she’d figure herself out that way.

He told her to stay put, while he exited the office, going to the greeter that stood at the glass doors and asked her a couple questions as she nodded understandingly. Commotion broke out, and workers started grabbing their things. The greeter rushed them out of the door and turned the dainty sign that hung on the door from the “open” side, to the “closed” side. He appeared in her office quickly, only to grab her purse, keys, and other essentials for her.

“Roman what’s going on?”

“We’re leaving.” She pointed to the multiple stacks of paper on her desk. “I-I still have wo-.”

He grabs her hand softly with all of her belongings in the other hand, leading her out of her office and pulls the door shut. “What work?” he says, smiling at her before planting a kiss on her forehead. “You’re well overdue for a Roman special.” Hazel chuckles to herself, her hand re-engulfed in his. “And what the hell is a Roman special?”

He turns around and smiles at her. “Some good food, a hot bath, a massage, some good head, and great dick.”

🏷️ tags :) @reignsboy19 @2-muchsauce @theninthwonder @harmshake @alichesmi @thesamoanqueen @alyyaanna @empressdede @badbitchcentralinc @christinabae @fame-ass-ers @southerngirl41 @cyberdejos2 @murrylove @sassginaswanmills @pixiedust4000 @shes2real @pittieprincess22 @wrestlingprincess80 @msbigredmachine @sayyestoheav3nn @trippinsorrows @mzv11 @saintmagx @starryskies97

#roman reigns #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #wwe roman reigns #roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns fic #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns x female reader #roman reigns x black!reader #caramelcleopatraa

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viking-raider · 11 months

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The Devil Made Me Do It *Mature* 👻

Summary: Upon receiving a mysterious and anonymous invitation to a Halloween party, a chauffeur takes you to an LA mansion estate for the party; where you meet your mystery man for an All Hallow's Eve you'll never forget.

Pairing: Henry Cavill/Reader + Mystery Character/Reader

Word Count: 9.8k

Warning: M - Secrets, Mystery, Alcohol Use, Scares, Costumes, Flirting, Teasing, Language, Mysterious Behavior, Longing, Fluff, Angst, Co-Workers to Lovers - SMUT - Unprotected sex, Fingering: (F - Receiving), Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Oral: (F - Receiving), Masturbation, Orgasm Control, Praise, Dirty Talk, Possible Corruption and Dub-Con, Light Dom, Aftercare

Inspiration: It’s Halloween and Kinktober! Posting now for Friday, the 13th!

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy this! Line divider by @FIREFLY-GRAPHICS!

If you would like to get notifications for my writing! Just follow my Tag List blog, @VIKING-RAIDER-TAGLISTand turn on the notifications for it! It’s that easy!

“So, who is your date?” Your best friend asked, glancing at you through the mirror you were using to put the finishing touches on your Harley Quinn costume.

“I don't know.” You answered, turning your head side to side, making sure you'd gotten everything perfect. “I just got a card delivered, stating it was from someone I know and asking if I would join them for an enchanting night.”

“And you're sure it's not from a stalker?” She asked, planting her hands on her hips.

“I'm sure it's not, Maggie.” You giggled at her, shaking your head. “Few people know my nickname, and it was noted on the card. So, I know it's from someone inside our circle of friends. Stop fretting over it.” You told her, getting up and facing her. “If it's someone I don't like in our circle or I'm uncomfortable with, I'll call you.”

“You better!” Maggie huffed, wagging a finger at you.

“Yes, ma'am.” You smirked, giving her a quick hug. “I have to go, they asked me to meet them at nine. Have fun handing out candy and protecting the house from tricksters!” You called out to her, grabbing your jacket and black, cross body, boho bag as you headed out the door.

You were about to unlock your car, when another pulled up at the bottom of the driveway, a matte black Cadillac Lyriq, and a man in a classy, black suit stepped out of the driver's seat, casting his eyes around as if to make sure he had the right address, before settling them on you.

“Are you the young lady that lives here?” He asked, motioning to the two-story house you lived in with Maggie, positioned on a cliff that gave the two of you access to your own private sandy beach on the LA coast.

“One of them.” You answered, narrowing your eyes at him suspiciously. “Can I help you?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, going into the inside pocket of his jacket to pull out a small, black card and approached you with it held out. “I was told to give you this, then take you downtown.”

Taking the card from him, you read the gilded, blood-red lettering on it: 'My love, please allow me to treat you on this night together. My driver, Marco, will ensure you arrive safely, so we may enjoy our spooky festivities.'

“A lot of cloak and dagger going on with your employer.” You smirked at Marco, touched and amused, as you tucked the card into your bag.

Marco smirked and nodded his head. “Yes, he's having a good time with it. But he's quite eager to meet up with you.” He chuckled, offering his arm to you as you started down the slightly sloped driveway and ushered you to the back passenger-side door, opening it and handing you inside.

You settled in the backseat, pulling your mobile from your bag and texted Maggie. He sent me a chauffeur.

Maggie: Fancy!

During the drive, you snapped some photos of yourself, posting them on your Instagram, wishing everyone; family, friends and fans alike, a happy Halloween before pocketing it and glancing out the window. The quiet hills you lived in, dotted with beautiful homes, started to fall away for the speed and lights of downtown Los Angeles. Traffic thickened, forcing Marco to slow the Cadillac down until it stopped several cars behind a red light.

“Are you allowed to tell me where we're going?” You asked, leaning forward between the front seats. “Or is that to remain a secret?” You smirked as Marco glanced sideways at you.

“I am sworn to secrecy, my lady.” He smirked, winked and got the car rolling again.

Marco drove you across LA to the posh side of the City of Angels, where all of the famous people called home or a vacation getaway. He maneuvered the winding road, until pulling up to a towering, black ornate gate, pausing to enter the pass code, rolling the gate back and permitting you.

“Wow.” You uttered, eyes popping and mouth dropping, seeing the enormous mansion with a circle driveway and bubbling fountain, as you leaned even further between the seats, craning your neck to look out the front window.

It was elaborately decorated; nothing was left for the imagination with its decorations, and it was clear the owner of the home had no issue spending the money on their expenses. Pumpkin lights lined the driveway, the windows at the front of the house were backlit and flickering back and forth between orange and green, with vast and long threads of spiderwebs and cobwebs over them. There were hanging ghosts and skeletons in the trees, an extensive graveyard to one side, with body parts poking out of the mock graves. Everywhere you looked, something caught your eye, impressing you more and more.

“He really went all out.” You chuckled, as Marco stopped at the front door, the stairs leading up to the double doors flanked by massive gargoyles with glowing red eyes.

“Oh, this isn't his home.” Marco answered, releasing his seatbelt. “This is the home of a colleague. He was given an invitation to attend their party here and it had a plus one on it. So, he asked you to join him.” He explained, getting out of the car and opening your door.

“Ah.” You blinked, confused as you took his hand and slipped out of the car, met with a thump of distant music and festivities. “So, how am I supposed to meet my date?” You asked, lifting a brow at him.

“Go inside,” Marco said, motioning to the doors. “The butler at the door will ask you for the code word. It's 'Beetlejuice'. Once you've been admitted, ask them to show you to Lucifer's room.”

“Lucifer?” You purred, amused.

“Yes, ma'am.” He chuckled, nodding. “With that, I wish you a good evening and a happy Halloween.” He said, kissing your hand and getting back into the car.

“Cloak and Dagger much?” You snorted and made your way up the steps. “Oh Christ!” You yelped, as the gargoyles on either side of you came to life, roaring and turning their heads towards you, dropping their bottom jaws open. “Rude.” You panted, composing yourself as the front doors swung open, letting out a flow of music and murmur of voices from inside, and revealing a man dressed as a zombie-butler.

“Madam.” He regarded you, with a thick Scottish accent. “Are you here for the party?”

“I am.” You answered him, making it to the top of the stairs. “I believe the password is, Beetlejuice.”

He bowed his painted face. “Correct.” He turned and lifted a hand to usher you inside. “Please, come in. I'm Mr. Davison, should you require anything during your stay here, please find me.” He told you, closing the doors as the two of you stepped into a grand foyer, two twisting staircases on either side, leading up to a landing on the second floor. On the ground floor were three hallways, one straight ahead between the staircases, where you could see flashing lights with the bump and sway of bodies, and two hallways on either side of you.

“There is one thing you can help with, Mr. Davison.” You said over the noise, turning to face him. “I'm actually a plus one to an invited guest of this party. I was told by the driver my date sent to bring me, to ask to be shown to Lucifer's room.” You explained to him, biting your painted lip, while studying his gray, black and bloody face, butterflies filling your stomach. “Whomever Lucifer is, since he's been secretive about his identity since asking me out.”

Davison smirked, his dark eyes dancing with amusement, clearly knowing who your date and Lucifer was. “Of course, right this way.” He said, before guiding you up the left staircase.

You could feel the vibration of music through the floor as you followed him down the decorated hallway. Each door on either side decorated a different theme, such as Jack and Sally from Nightmare Before Christmas, Jason's mask and bloody machete from Friday the 13th, a Gothic door with an image of Bela Lugosi from Dracula and the doll, Jigsaw, from SAW. Davison stopped before a door, it was red with the silhouette of a pair of angel wings and a flaming halo with black horns.

“Lucifer.” You mumbled to yourself, watching Davison knock loud enough to be heard above the noise of the party, you were distracted by the zombie-butler stepping aside, as the door opened and revealed your date.

“You made it!” They declared to them, excited and relieved that you had come.

“Of course!” You answered, finally looking up at him, only to have your mouth drop open.

Standing before you in a stylish pair of black slacks, a matching vest over a light-gray dress shirt, the first few buttons undone and the long sleeves rolled up his forearms. At first, it wasn't much of an impressive costume, until you studied his face, he wore a touch of black eye-liner, that was slightly smudged, and poised on his forehead was a pair of glue-on horns, well blended in to match his skin color with at touch of red, as if it was a pain for him to have horns breaking through his otherwise angelic appearance.

“Henry!” You squeaked, surprised to see the Brit standing there, imitating Lucifer Morningstar from the DC comic and hit tv show.

“Hey.” He grinned, moving forward and hugging you. “You look great!” He said, stepping back again to look over your Harley Quinn costume, loving the gold, argyle overalls, pink sports bra, pink and blue hair and make-up. “You nailed Harley.” He commented, meeting your eyes again, finally noticing your surprise that he was the one that asked you out. “Oh.” He blushed, carding a hand through his hair.

“Right, I suppose I should explain myself. Why don't you come in?” He suggested stepping aside so you could enter the room. “Do you want something to drink? Davison can get you something.” He said, looking between you and the butler. “Anything you want.”

“We have several Halloween themed cocktails, wines, whiskey and such.” Davison told you, reappearing before the door.

“I'll have one of your cocktails.” You answered, with a small nod. “I'll leave that to your recommendation.”

“I would appreciate a refill as well, Davison.” Henry added in, with a polite nod.

“I'll bring them, presently.” He nodded back, and started downstairs.

“So, you're my date.” You said, entering the room with Henry, finding it was a sitting room that led into a bedroom.

“I am.” Henry smirked, closing the door. “I hope you're not...disappointed.” He said, looking at you with blue eyes that truly wished you weren't.

“I'm not at all disappointed.” You assured him, offering him a sweet smile. “Just surprised.” You confessed to him, pressing your lips together. “We had a couple interactions during the filming of Mission Impossible, but I wouldn't have guessed enough for you to notice me and to ask me out on a mysterious date to a high end LA party.”

“Oh, I noticed you the moment we were in the same room together.” He told you the truth of his feelings for you all over his face. “I tried drumming up the courage to ask you out so many times in those three months. I just kept chickening out, because I didn't think you'd say yes or be interested. So, when my friend sent me an invitation to his party here, you were my first thought on who to bring. But, again, I didn't think you'd say yes. Especially after we hadn't seen each other in a couple months. However, he suggested I send you a note asking you to come and send my driver to pick you up, to see what would happen.”

“You think I would say no to you?” You frowned at him, your brow pinching. “God, I would have said yes in a heartbeat.” You blurted out, shamelessly. “I admit, I wasn't going to come. I was suspicious about the motives and a little worried that it was set up by my stalker.”

Henry's face went blank for a moment, before it filled with worry and how stupid he felt. “I am so sorry. I didn't know you had a stalker, or I would have never been so secretive. I would have just asked you out right. I hope I didn't put you through any anxiety.”

You chuckled at him, shaking your head. “No, you didn't.” You assured him, waving it off. “You just set off my protective roommate, Maggie, who I should probably text and tell who my mystery man is, at some point.” You said, finding the whole thing amusing now.

There was a knock on the door and Davison came in with a small platter holding your and Henry's drinks, a skeleton hand wine-glass with a red shimmer liquid and a black substance around the rim. Beside that was Henry's squat glass of whiskey on the rocks, the ice shaped like a bone.

“Your Vampire's Kiss.” Davison said, as you took your glass. “Spiced rum, Cran-Grape juice, Grenadine and black sanding sugar.” He listed off the ingredients as you took a careful sip.

“Mmm.” You moaned, nodding your head. “Positively enchanting, thank you.”

“My pleasure.” He smiled, tucking the platter under his arm. “Enjoy your evening and the festivities.” He bid you and Henry, then saw himself out.

“Well, would you like to look around?” Henry asked, swilling his drink. “There's dancing and a bar downstairs and I've been told the backyard of the house has quite the surprise.”

“I'm not much for dancing.” You confessed, a shy smile crossing your face.

Henry looked a tad relieved at your words. “That's more than fine. I'm not either.” He chuckled, glancing down into the amber liquid in his glass. “The backyard then?”

“The backyard.” You nodded, smirking with an excited giddiness.

Nodding, Henry polished off his drink and set it on a small coffee table that was in the sitting room. You finished yours and put it beside his, then dropped your bag on the floor under the table. Henry opened the door, letting you enter the thrumming hallway first and followed, taking a key out of his pocket and locked the door behind you both.

“Worried about something?” You inquired, as he pocketed the key again.

“No.” He answered, shaking his head with a blank expression. “Better safe than sorry, I suppose.” He admitted, pressing his hand over the key. “Anyway, let's find out what's in the backyard.” He smiled, offering his hand out to you.

“If it's as good as the rest of the decorations I've seen, it'll be great.” You smiled back, taking his hand.

The two of you descended the spiral staircase you'd come up earlier, Henry paused and looked towards the hallway that led into the room where all the dancing was occurring, then looked at you.

“It's a little warm in here.” He said, even though it was cool in the foyer. “Why don't we go out the front and walk around the side?” He suggested, with an arched brow.

“Sounds fine to me.” You nodded, content with not going through the press of bodies on the dance floor to make it to the backyard.

Giving you a wink, Henry shifted your hand to his forearm and walked you to the entry, nodding to Davison. “We'd like to take a little stroll.” He informed the man, who nodded back and pulled open the double doors for you. “Thank you kindly.”

“So, are you in LA only for the party?” You asked as the two of you went down the steps, while mentally preparing yourself not to get frightened by the gargoyles again.

“No.” Henry chuckled, glancing away from you with a bashful smirk. “I just finished filming a movie in England. The first Enola Holmes movie, where I play Sherlock Holmes.” He explained, looking left and right for a moment, before guiding you towards the left. “I came out here after I finished, to take a little vacation, and suppose they heard I was in town and invited me.”

“A vacation, is that all?” You smirked at him, having a sneaking suspicion the Brit may have had an extra motive for coming out.

“Well,” He droned, rolling his eyes with a guilty smirk. “There may have been a certain lady I hoped to catch up with, while I was in the city.” He confessed, shooting you a glance from the corner of his eye. “Thankfully for me, I had the opportunity to.”

“Mmm, yes.” You nodded, cocking a brow at him and pressing your lips together. “Lucky for you.”

He patted your hand and grinned with boy-ish pride. “He really went all out for decor.” He commented, rounding the corner with you, to get met with tall, manicured hedges covered in webs and skeletons trying to break through and coming at you. The entryway cut into the hedges was covered with chains, obscuring your view of what was on the other side.

“That he did.” You agreed, twisting to look at the graveyard behind you. “I really like that makeshift graveyard over there. Very fright night.” You commented, rather eager to see what Henry's friend had down in their backyard. “Let's go in!” You giggled, moving towards the chain-cover entrance, your hand slipping down Henry's forearm, until you caught his hand and could pull him through after you.

Chuckling, Henry let you drag him into the side yard, finding scarecrows on either side, a bloody butcher's knife through the body of one as it rested on a cross of thin wooden poles and the another hung from the branch of a tree, swaying in the gentle, evening breeze. There were a few more graves, lining the path, leading towards the back of the house.

“Declan Hunley.” You read one of the grave markers. “Born 1879, dead 1910, killed for not looking behind him.” You frowned and looked up at Henry. “That's a weird mess-” You shrieked as the grave on the other side of the path burst open to reveal a gnarled zombie crawling out, growling and hissing, as you scrambled behind Henry in your terror.

Henry's heart rocked in his chest in surprise, instinctively putting an arm out between you and the flesh-eating monster. But a smile soon crossed his lips, guiding you around the zombie, who made decent grabs at your ankles, however made no attempt to crawl out of his grave to follow after you.

“Oh my gosh.” You panted, brushing your multi-colored hair out of your face, with shaking hands.

“It's all right.” Henry cooed, resting his hand on the small of your back, rubbing gentle circles. “I think he's still snacking on poor Declan.” He quipped, smirking at you.

You managed to laugh a little bit, your heart rate slowing down and collecting yourself. “Well, we know what the tombstone meant.” You sighed, shaking your head, feeling foolish for falling for it. “Suckered me.” You chuckled, then cast your eyes out over the backyard. “Oh wow.” You mumbled, eyes widening as your mouth dropped agape.

Henry turned and his brows went up. “Damn. I'll hand it to him, he didn't spare a shilling for all of this.” He commented, taking in the immaculate backyard.

The three sets of double doors leading out from where the dancing and bar was set up were open and brought out the sound of voices and music with them. There was a trickle of people on the patio, which was lit by standing torches of orange, green and red. Sitting on the furniture or huddled around the couple of blazing fire pits, were a few hired staff helping them roast marshmallows for S'mores or brew hot chocolate. Beyond the patio, were tall hedges and party-goers funneling into the opening, stopped only by someone at the entrance, before vanishing into the dark and glowing fog.

“I wonder what they're doing?” You muttered to yourself, brow creasing with curiosity.

“We can find out, if you want?” Henry said beside you, his head cocking to the side to see your face.

“Let's go!” You smiled, clapping your hands and dashing forward.

Henry laughed, amused and touched at your enthusiasm, before following after you. You were stopped at the entrance of the mysterious attraction by a man dressed up in a torn and bloody lab coat. A tall fridge with a clear door stood beside him, filled with green, red and blue test tubes.

“Beware!” The bedraggled doctor wheezed, reaching out to prevent you and Henry from going any further. “There's a deadly pathogen inside the maze!” He panted, looking back and forth between the two of you frantically; as if you had the cure and answer.

“Oh no!” You gasped back at him, bringing a hand to your chest, dramatically, making Henry snort behind you. “It sounds terrible!” You whimpered, trying to hold back a giggle.

“It is!” He agreed, not breaking character, while pulling open the fridge door. “There's only one way to make it through, without succumbing to the pathogen. It's by taking this antidote.” He waved a hand over the display, before taking two out and handing you a red tube and Henry, the blue.

The label on your tube told you the antidote was made from white rum and cherry liqueur, while Henry's was made of Curaçao and SVEDKA, blue raspberry flavored vodka. Uncapping and tossing the red antidote back, the chilled liquid burned down your throat into your stomach, and finally out through your veins. Mixing with the wine you had in Henry's room. Drinking down his own antidote and tossing the empty tube in the provided bin, the doctor finally let you pass. Entering the foggy maze, constructed out of the manicured hedges, stone planters with beautiful and exotic flowers. There were LED lights tucked into the dense and dark-green leaves, flickering in an off-rhythm, giving the already dark and close passages a disorienting feel.

“This is so cool!” You giggled, bouncing on your toes and turning back to look at Henry, who walked close behind you.

“Yeah, it is.” He agreed, glancing behind him, hearing a screech that was all too human, from somewhere else in the maze. “He really went all out for Halloween.” He looked back to you and smiled, finding the two of you had come to a three way.

“Which way should we go?” You asked, looking around, before looking at Henry.

“Hmm.” He hummed, glancing about, then smirked at you. “This way.” He said, jerking his head to the left, taking your hand and led you down the footpath.

“Do you know where you're going?” You asked, frowning at his back.

“I might.” Henry answered, casting a teasing glance over his shoulder.

“Shady Devil.” You teased, smirking at him.

After a couple twists and turns, the two of you came to a dead end that was adorned with a massive marble statue of a half-naked archer, shooting her arrow into the skies and a bench at her feet. There was a square lantern hanging from the tip of the Archer's arrow and two on the bench, casting an eerie, flickering, orange glow in the dark mist that surrounded you. But you were apprehensive about the skeleton sitting on the bench with them.

Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. But fool me three times, screw that! You thought, eyeing it. But the flickering light and swirl of fog played tricks on you, making it difficult to tell if the skeleton was twitching or not.

“I don't trust it.” You said aloud, and Henry's chuckle filled the enchanted space.

“I wouldn't blame you, love.” He admitted, cautious himself about the authenticity of the skeleton, however taking a gallant step forward to find out. “I think the poor chap died of whatever pathogen is in the maze though.” He quipped, making himself laugh and you rolled your eyes, amused. Reaching the skeleton without it jumping out at him, Henry put his hand on top of its cranium and gave it a gentle shake, causing the rest of the body to rattle on the bench, revealing it to be a prop.

“We're safe from another scare.” Henry declared, picking it up and setting it aside, making room for the two of you to sit down together. “I am really glad you came.” He said, as you sat down beside him. “I know I already said it, but I am.”

“I'm really happy that I came as well.” You smiled at him, feeling the heat already in your cheeks from your alcohol consumption increase, but the cool night helped keep it under control.

Henry grinned, giddy to hear it. “Kal really missed you, after you finished filming your scenes in Norway.” He confessed, chuckling as he fussed with the skull fob on the end of a pocket watch chain he had attached to the front of his vest.

“Oh, Kal missed me, did he?” You purred, amused.

“Yeah, Kal.” He nodded, glancing up at you, his blue eyes dark and holding a gaze that sent a shiver down your back. “Are you cold?” He asked, a playful and coy smirk curling up one corner of his mouth as he moved a little closer to you, offering the warmth of his body.

“I'm either cold or the pathogen is setting in.” You sighed softly, biting your lower lip and tucking yourself into his side, a quiet moan escaping your throat as the weight of Henry's strong arm slotted around your shoulders.

It was all of sudden that you were aware of how close Henry's mouth was to yours, his eyes still trained on your face, waiting—watching—for your reaction. Were you going to push him away or were you going to let him go all the way?

Screw it!

You leaned forward and locked lips with him, feeling Henry smile for a moment before meeting your kiss. His palm moved to cup your nape, fingers curling into your hair and nails grazing your scalp, ever so lightly, drawing another shiver out of you. Henry's other hand moved around to your hip and tugged you closer to him, all but pulling you into his lap. The kiss is slow and easy at first, feeling each other out, testing the waters to see if it was right. Then, as if your minds connected like Bluetooth, the embrace became hungry. Fingers slipped into the armholes of his vest and your back straightened as you made little tugs on the soft fabric, needing to feel him closer against you.

“Henry.” You whimpered into his mouth, lashes fluttering open, hearing his breathing deepen, watching and feeling his chest heave.

His lips brushed yours, the warm puffs of his pants caressing your face as his eyes bored into yours, arms dropping around your waist and squeezing you against his rigid body. He felt the same longing that showed in your eyes, and wanted nothing more than to fulfill it. His palms moved up your back and made for the straps of your overalls, shoving one off your shoulders and unclasping the other. Leaning away for the zipper in the middle, unzip it, making it fall off your shoulders completely, to gather around your waist, giving Henry a nice peek at the black lace, bikini panties you were wearing.

“Mmm.” He hummed, smirking at you with half lidded eyes. “Not shorts?” He rasped, tracing the tip of his finger along the wavy edge, before giving the waistband a playful pop.

You felt a slight heat of embarrassment in the pit of your stomach, but your expression was bashful. “Didn't expect any fallen Angels to sneak a peek down my overalls.” You quipped, playfully pushing a button at the top of his vest open.

“It was far too tempting.” Henry murmured, leaning in to kiss you once more, while his hand caressed your bare side, your skin dancing at the feather light contact, before it grazed the waistband of your panties.

Pausing, he meets your eyes once more, seeking permission. You answered it with a nip at his bottom lip and went in for another heated and heady kiss. With an amused rumble, Henry pushed his hand beyond the barrier, drawing out the magical sound against his mouth, when his fingertips dusted over your throbbing clit. He teased you, only giving you the lightest of touch, as if a ghost was tormenting you from the great beyond. Hands moving to the last three buttons of Henry's vest, you opened his dress shirt and pushed your hands inside of it, finding the burning and hard packed muscles he worked so hard on, every day, dusted with dark hair. You lightly dragged your blue, red and white painted nails down his chest; Henry growled and let out a sharp hiss, giving you a narrow-eyed look.

“Oh!” A voice rang out, before Henry could repay your action. “I am so sorry!”

Almost all of your arousal vanished, you quickly fixed your clothing and tried to act as casual as possible but struggled to meet the other party-goer's eyes. Henry on the other hand, had little qualms, having embodied his costume's entity.

“That's quite all right.” He chuckled, not bothering to button his open shirt, showing off his bare chest and nail marks. “Wrong turns happen.” He smirked, his face morphing into this delighted, sinister expression.

“Yeah, this place is a serious maze.” The man, dressed as a Roman soldier, answered, his startled eyes still moving back and forth between you.

“It is.” Henry nodded, his tone hinting for him to go on his way. “There's many more dead ends like this one, I'm sure you'll find.”

Blinking, then finally getting it, the Roman soldier turned and vanished into the fog and dark of the maze, leaving you and Henry once again alone.

“Well, that was interesting.” He laughed, looking back to you, finally buttoning his shirt.

“Yeah, you can say that.” You answered with a half-hearted laugh.

Biting his lip, feeling the mood had been destroyed and sighed softly. “You want to finish the maze?” He asked, offering you a smile, brows lifted in question. “Or we could go back inside?” He added, brow creasing a little.

You balanced the options, seeing the rest of the maze and what was at the end intrigued you, but finishing what you and Henry started was still a rage inferno between your thighs. “I think it's a bit too nippy out here for what I have on.” You answered, licking your lip and eyeing Henry.

“You know,” He replied, glancing thoughtfully. “I believe you're right.” He said, giving a soft shiver himself, his massive shoulders quaking. “Let's go back inside.” He cooed, fixing his vest and standing to offer you his arm.

Taking it, you retraced your steps back to the start of the maze, nodding to the Mad Doctor, who was restocking the antidotes, quickly moved by the grave with the awaiting zombie at the side of the house, and were met yet again by Davison at the door, as he opened them to greet you.

“I hope you found the attractions and festivities to your liking?” He inquired, shutting the doors behind you.

“We did.” Henry nodded, smiling at you. “He went all out for his Halloween party. It's quite amazing.”

“Yeah, it's gotten my heart beat up several times.” You chuckled, smiling back. “Not a party I'll forget.” “I'm pleased to hear it, and so will he.” Davison smiled, pleased.

“We're going to retire upstairs for a bit.” Henry informed him with a wink, leading you towards the staircase. “Have a good evening, Davis.”

“And you.” He called back.

“No.” He chuckled, smiling down at his bare feet. “It is rare. But this isn't really an occasion to bring him along. So, I left him with a good friend.”

“Mmm.” You hummed, leaning back against the bed's footboard to unlace your shoes. “I suppose not.” You agreed, flexing your toes and glancing up at him. “You want to help me?” You asked, gesturing to your overalls. “You seemed quite the expert out in the maze.” You quipped, impishly.

Pursing his lips and giving you a hungry look, Henry strode forward, closing the gap between you easily with his long legs, and took the zipper between his fingers again, but now, he took his time. You watched him work the clasp gently down the molten-gold fabric, revealing more and more of you as it reached its end, between your legs. Henry smirked at your panties, discovering they were not only sheer, but sported a nice, growing wet patch.

“Do you like it when I touch you?” He asked in a breath voice, nimble fingers moving to your straps, caressing the skin beneath it, before flicking it open, the overalls slipping to one side.

“You don't see me stopping you, do you?” You quipped back, as the last strap fell from your shoulder and your outfit started to slip down your body.

He shook his head, hands moving up to the buttons of his shirt, but your hand came up to brush them aside, intent on doing that yourself. Pushing each black button through their hole with painstaking care, knowing Henry was impatient about picking up where you left off outside. You moaned softly, tugging the tucked in fabric from the waistband of his pants and pushing his shirt off his shoulders and arms. You were slow to pull his belt free of their loops, admiring the growing bulge at the front of his slacks. With his belt free, you curled your fingers around the waistband of his pants and boxer briefs, only to be stopped by Henry's hands grasping your wrists.

“What?” You frowned, looking up at him.

“Top.” He answered, motioning to it with his head. “Off.”

“I think I'm a little more naked than you are.” You stated, raising a brow at him.

“I'll be naked the moment you pull my pants and underwear down.” He countered with a smirk.

You took a deep breath, then nodded. “Fair.” You chuckled, pulling your hands away to remove your pink sports bra. “Better, you devil?” You teased, tossing the article of clothing over his head.

“Much, my little joker.” He rasped, cupping one of your breasts in his hand and rubbing its hardened nub with the pad of his thumb. “You can finish your task now.” He said, leaning in to kiss you.

“Mm, thanks.” You mumbled against his mouth, hands blindly finding their way back to his waist, tugging at it, and trying not to be distracted by his lips and hands working their magic on you. “Bat above, you're evil.” You whimpered to the pinch he gave your breast, sending a tingle to your still clothed clit. Henry turned his head, lips brushing the helix of your ear. “I'm not Lucifer for nothing, my dear.” He whispered, allowing his accent to dip and deepen.

Your knees weakened and you let out a breathy whimper. “Good lord.” You gulped, grasping the back of his arms for support.

“I'd rather keep his name to a minimum.” Henry quipped, with a playful attempt at a wink.

“Classic.” You giggled, tilting your head back to brush your lips against his stubbly jaw. “Apologies, Prince of Darkness.” You teased, hand trailing down his torso to his semi-hard cock, closing your fingers around the heated flesh.

Henry hissed in your ear, hooked an arm around your waist and snagged you against him, lifting you off your feet and moving around to the side of the bed, setting you down on it. He paused for a moment, to turn out the lights, then joined you again, where you had fixed yourself correctly on the comfortable mattress and about to slip your undies off.

“No.” He rumbled, slipping between your legs and gently pushing your hands away. “Those are mine.” He informed you, taking a hold of the delicate fabric and started to slip them off. “Oh, you smell so tasty.” He cooed, catching a whiff of your glistening folds, tossing your panties aside and leaning closer with a lick of his lips.

Gulping, you melted back against the pillows as Henry's mouth closed around your slick, vibrating your sensitive need with a rumble of carnal lust. You pawed at the duvet beneath you, rolling your hips against his working mouth, tongue parting your folds to collect the dripping nectar flowing from your cavern. You whimpered and squeezed your thighs against his head, feeling his horns brush your heated and trembling skin, building the numb and tingling sensation at the pit of your stomach.

“Oh, Henry!” You whimpered, a hand moving into the curls at the back of his head. “Oh, plea-fuck!” You cried out, back arching as Henry pressed two heavy fingers onto your swollen pearl, rubbing at it in a rhythm to his mouth and drawing you over the edge swiftly.

Blinded by your orgasm, you didn't notice the figure entering the room with you and Henry for a moment. But caught the moving shape at the foot of the bed, slowly coming down and through your blurred vision, it paused, before shifting to the chair in the corner.

“Henry.” You panted, the heightening tone of alarm in your voice.

“Ssshh.” He hushed you, slowly kissing his way up your seething body until his face was nuzzled between the valley of your bosom, tasting the thin layer of exertion on your burning skin. “It's all right, love.” He heaved, his breath raising goose flesh in its wake.

“But-” You started to protest, shaking your head and trying to focus on the figure seated in the corner, feeling their eyes on you. “There's some-” You tried to warn him breathily, as his mouth encompassed one of your breasts. “Someone's in-”

“I know.” He moaned around your taut areola, before tilting his head for a second to glance at your strange guest. “It's just Gus.” He purred, a naughty smile on his lips and returned back to his worship of your body.

“August?” You whimpered, brows furrowing at his name and Henry's intent suckling. “Henry.” You sighed, eyes fluttering shut and hands pressing to Henry's broad back, letting go and getting washed away with the moment.

Smiling from his vantage point in the corner, the chair angled just right, August watched you and Henry in bed. He knew the two of you, having worked on a couple projects with Henry over the years and met you during the filming of Fall Out. When Henry told him he intended to ask you to the party, his interest and intrigue was set into motion, intent on having some of you for himself, informing Henry of this, and having Davison keep a close eye on you and Henry. So, upon hearing the two of you had been found canoodling in the maze, then scampering back upstairs to Henry's room, Davison rushed to find his boss and informed him that love was in the air between the two of you.

August left where he was entertaining in his study and moved upstairs to Henry's room, using a master key he had for every room on his estate and slipped into the darkened room, like a stealthy panther stalking its prey. Removing and turning off his light up Purge mask, he found you sprawled out on the bed, whimpering Henry's name, while his skillful mouth ate you out, like it was one of the Brit's decadent cheat meals. Hovering in the doorway between the sitting room and the bedroom, waiting—watching...you slip off the cliff of your orgasm, crying out and writhing as you fell; then moved to the bottom of the bed, to reach out and touch Henry's foot.

Alerting him that he had shown up.

He repressed a chuckle, while you tried alerting Henry to his presence, and moved towards the chair, making himself comfortable. But Henry reassured you that it was perfectly all right. It was just your good friend, August, in the room with you, and you had no reason to fret. He opened the front of his rough and semi-black jeans, lifting his hips off the chair just enough to push his pants and briefs down, allowing his rigid cock to spring free of the tight confines and rest heavily against the white dress shirt he had on. He closed his fist around the slick head of his shaft, a deep rumbling moan boiled in his throat as he slowly started to stroke himself, eyes locked on you and Henry intertwining together in bed.

Your quivering legs locked loosely around his thick thighs, while Henry's mouth was like a suction cup against the column of your throat, working in tandem to his steely manhood rubbing against your heated folds, coating the taut and veiny flesh with your sweet essence. Your quiet whimpers and mewls spurred on both men, putting cracks in August's usual calm and controlled demeanor, and pushed Henry to impatience, struggling with his will to warm you up, before diving deep into you, headfirst.

“Take her.” August rasped, abandoning his cock for a second to open his shirt and toss it aside, not wanting to soil it any more than the few wet spots of pre-come, and returned to pleasuring himself.

Henry snapped a look over his shoulder, face flushed and sweaty. “She's mine, Gus.” He hissed at the other man, eyes a dark cobalt with lust and feeling territorial.

“I belong to no one!” You wheezed, dizzy and drunk from Henry's attention.

A smirk pulled across both men's lips, and Henry looked down at you, brushing damp and colorful strands of hair off your sweaty forehead and placing a gentle kiss to the bridge of your nose.

“Of course, my love.” He cooed at you, stroking the side of your face with the back of his fingers. “We know you don't.” He said, kissing the corner of your mouth. “My apologies.” He whispered against your lips.

You sighed against his mouth and shook your head again, lifting your heavy arms to tangle your fingers into his hair. “I want you.” You murmured, nudging your nose against his, legs squeezing his to pull him in closer. “Please, Henry.” You gulped, eyes fluttering open to gaze up at him.

“As you wish.” He replied quietly, pulling back slightly and slipping a hand between your bodies, grasping and stroking himself for a moment, before lining his weeping, heart-shaped tip with your glistening honeypot. “Oh god, you're so snug, Bug.” He purred, easing himself in, bit by bit, as he leaned back over you, bracing himself on his elbows, loving how you wrapped around him.

“Shit.” August grunted, fixated on Henry entering you, your folds sealing around his girth like a tailor-made glove, while trying to picture his own manhood in its place, squeezing his shaft in an attempt to replicate it.

Henry's thrusts were short and measured, rocking into you with an easy pace, almost matching the beat of the music that was bleeding through the floor downstairs. It was both what you wanted and also drove you nuts, wanting him to drive you through the bed, to turn your insides to pudding. You rocked your hips in-tune to his, one hand clawing down his sweat drenched back to dig into the meat of his bum and thrust your other hand between your bodies to find your neglected clit.

“Don't you dare come.” Henry growled at you, pressing his body down on yours, trapping you against the mattress and immobilizing your hand from pleasuring yourself. “Not without me.” He panted, holding your gaze.

You were caught off guard for a moment, before arching an amused brow at him. “Fine.” You smirked, giving him a nice pat on the butt.

“Good girl.” He purred, capturing your lips and shifting his weight again, enabling you to stroke your pulsing clit, toes curling and walls quaking around Henry's cock, milking it. “How are you doing over there, Gus?” He chuckled, shooting the American a glance over his shoulder.

“Could be better.” August grunted back, slumped a little in his seat, working his cock as he continued to watch, the sound of Henry's cock moving inside of you filled the room with your soft whimpers and moans, it was like a perfect orchestra to his ears, making his balls tight, but he still wanted you for himself.

Henry brought his lips to your ear. “He's jealous.” He whispered in a roguish tone.

“Mmm.” You moaned back, half listening to what either of them were saying, drunk on the feeling of Henry inside of you and the pressure you were applying to your tender pearl, drenching you both even more to create a wet spot on the bed sheet beneath.

“She's getting fucked out.” August smirked, hearing your numb moans. “And you haven't even let her come again.” He chuckled, using his free hand to massage his heavy sack, growling deep in his chest and pressing his head against the back of the chair.

Henry felt his own loins tingle and spasm, begging to be unloaded inside your tight, hot core, which only drew him in with each thrust, attempting to hold him inside for your own salvation. Henry groaned, thrusting forward and almost losing himself to the pressure.

“I can't hold back anymore, Hen.” You mewled up at him, breathless and spent. “Please.”

“Me neither, love.” He sighed back, nuzzling the side of your sweaty neck for a moment, before slowly slipping free. “You wanna come with me, babe?” He panted, pulling up on his knees, but kept one elbow braced beside your head.

Moving a hand between your heaving bodies, Henry gently shoved aside your sluggishly moving hand from your mound, bringing it to his mouth and gently sucked on your honey saturated fingers, savoring the heady taste. With your hand clean, Henry took a hold of himself, stroking his length and rubbing his tip against your overstimulated folds at the same time, drawing out soft whimpers and moans. Your hands kneaded his sides, while you twitched and quivered beneath him, eyes fluttering in the back of your lids with streaks to tears going down your temples.

“Oh...Henry!” You hiccupped in short gasps, licking your parched lips. “I'm-m s-so c-close!” You gulped, nudging your face against his, blindly seeking his lips.

“I am too, love.” He wheezed back, increasing the friction. “Come with me.” He whispered, meeting your lips in a breathless kiss.

It was easy, with how close the pair of you were, so you just let go. Gushing over Henry's cock and drenching the sheets even more, while Henry jerked rope after rope of his hot seed over your glistening folds and heaving stomach, making your skin sticky with each expulsion of his loins. August watched with concupiscent awe, biting into his bottom lip and digging a shoe heel into the expensive rug at his feet, as his own orgasm peaked, flowing over his jerking fist and staining the black fabric of his jeans.

You, Henry and August let out a collective sigh as your climax waned. Henry's weary arms snaked around your body, while his body slowly tilted sideways, collapsing onto the mattress with an exhausted grunt and holding you to his chest. Sighing against his collarbone, your eyes fluttering shut, spent and sedated.

A touch to your back told you, you'd fallen asleep, stirring you back to the world of the living and from the warm bubble of Henry's body. Expecting to see Henry staring at you, you opened your eyes to his sleeping face and the deep puffs of his snores.

“Right here, gorgeous.” A deep timber whispered into your ear.

Turning your head, your eyes met August's, he was leaning over you, a smile plastered on his handsome face, and his hand still stroking the length of your back. “Gus?” You mumbled, sleepily blinking up at him.

August tapped a finger to his lips and cast his eyes to Henry. “Ssshh, don't wake him, sweetheart.” He cooed at you, sweetly. “He needs his rest.” He told you, before helping you carefully untangle from Henry's embrace and sit up on the edge of the bed.

“What are you doing, August?” You asked, looking up at him, even though you had your suspicions.

“Helping you clean up.” He answered, dipping his hand to your stomach, reminding you of Henry's dried release, that was still there. “I started a nice, warm shower for you.” He explained, taking your hands in his and pulled you to your feet, stretching your sore muscles.

“Sure, Gus.” You giggled, letting him guide you around the bed and into the bathroom, the sound of falling water filling your ears and blanket of warm steam wrapping around you as it filled the space. “You're only helping, so you can have your chance.” You smirked, not so out of it during your lovemaking with Henry to forget August's jealousy he was missing out.

August laughed, unconcerned of sound now that the door was closed. “So perceptive of you, Sugar.” He smirked, opening the door of the shower stall for you. “Unless you'd rather I leave you and Henry be.” He added, as you entered the shower, cocking a brow at you.

“Hmm.” You hummed, stepping under the pleasant spray of the showerhead, letting the water wash over you, before glancing at August over your shoulder. “Well, it would be a lie, if I said I hadn't thought about what it would be like to be with both of you.” You smirked, eyes dancing with mischief. “And Hen and I already had our fun.”

“You impish, little jester.” August growled, discarding the remains of his clothing and joined you, hugging an arm around your waist and pressing his chest against your back, his mouth finding your neck, the hairs of his immaculate mustache tickling your wet skin.

“Christ, August.” You moaned, his rock-hard manhood pressing against your butt. “I-” Your breath caught in your throat, August's hand closing around your mound, fingers oh-so-delicately caressing your pearl, waking it from its soreness.

“You what, Sugar?” He purred into your ear, nipping at its rim almost painfully. “Tell me.” He insisted, free hand coming up to cup your jaw and pull your back to rest against his shoulder.

“I want you.” You whimpered, chewing on your bottom lip and pushing up on your toes. “Take me, Gus.” You begged him, grinding against his manhood.

Smirking, August took a step forward, until you were trapped between him and the warm, smokey-gray subway tile of the shower wall. He spread your feet and gripped your hip with one hand, grasping his shaft in the other and teased your silky folds, only slipping just his tip between them to rim your passage, loving the feel of your quiver.

“So desperate for me to fill you up.” He chuckled, kneading your hip.

“August, please.” You huffed, still overstimulated from being with Henry and unable to take August's teasing. “Please, I need you inside of me.” You moaned, legs wobbling as he pushed the first half of his manhood into your ruined cavern, your knees almost giving out, had it not been for him and the wall holding you up.

“Stuff me.” You told him, mindlessly.

“I intend too, Sugar.” August smirked, gripping both of your hips and used them as leverage to ease the rest of himself inside of you, still taking his time, despite your continued begs and mewls. “You take me so well, sweetheart.” He panted, once he was settled, engulfed inside your pocket. “Henry did so well, opening you for me.” He chuckled, pressing a palm to the tile above your head and drew almost completely out, then drove back in, hammering into your sweet and sore spot, drawing out a cry from your lips that echoed in the stall.

“August!” You arched your back into his thrusts, cheek pressed against the wall and eyes squeezed shut. “Oh god.” You wheezed, breath fogging the glossy tile. “You feel so good, Gus.” You told him, your voice hardly above the sound of the shower head. “So good.” You mumbled to yourself, nursing your walls around his cock, feeling every ridge and vein as you did and every driving force of him moving inside of you.

“Oh, you're not going to last for me, are you, Sugar?” He cooed, stroking the back of your wet hair and squeezing the nape of your neck. “Just too fucked out.” He hummed, sensing and watching your body tremble as you did your best to fight off your orgasm. “That's all right, princess.” He said, kissing the top of your head and increasing the pace of his thrusts. “Let go.” He instructed you, locking an arm around your waist. “Come all over my cock, gorgeous.” He egged you on, until he felt your body quake and tense, a hot rush around his frenzied shaft.

“There you go, very good.” He praised you, lining kisses over your shoulder and neck, nuzzling his face there as he buried himself deep inside and let loose, pumping his load into your core and painting your walls, unlike Henry.

The two of you stood there for a long time, supporting each other against the shower wall with the water still raining down over you. Until August's skilled ears twitched to a squeak above the patter of water on the hexagon tiles and turned his head. A smirk pulled across his lips as he spied Henry through the clear glass of the shower doors, coming into the bathroom.

“Did we wake you, Hank?” He quipped, as the Brit stepped into the stall with you, a gush of chilly air invading the warm space, making you shiver against August's chest.

“Yes and no.” He replied, dipping his head under the shower head, soaking his curls. “I woke up, when I realized our little Harley Quinn wasn't in bed with me any longer and heard some of your shower fun.” He informed him, shaking his head, to flick the curls out of his face, and moved to stand beside August, looking down at you. “Looks like you're having a nice, little shower, love.” He smirked, seeing the expression of sedated and satisfied exhaustion on your face.

“Mmm.” You hummed back, blinking up at him.

Both men chuckled at you, shaking their heads.

“You look after her, I have to piss.” August told Henry, slipping free of you and eased away, wanting to make sure you didn't fall without his support, before stepping out of the shower to use the toilet.

“Are you all right?” Henry asked, helping you sit down on a built-in, shower bench.

“I'm fine.” You answered, resting back against the wall. “Just didn't expect all of--” You motioned around sluggishly. “This—when I got your mystery invite to the party.”

Henry smirked, grabbing a bath sponge and a bar of vanilla, sandalwood and cardamom soap, from a recess in the shower wall. “That's a fair point.” He nodded, soaping up the sponge and grabbing one of your arms. “In all honesty, I didn't intend this to happen either.” He admitted to you, gently lathering up your skin.

“Well, I did want to be with you. I just didn't expect August to actually join us.”

“The devil made me do it!” August chimed in, coming back into the shower and started to wash. “But I told you, I intended to, if you wooed her.”

“Wooed me!” You huffed, rolling your eyes. “So, the two of you talked about this?”

“Henry needed some prodding in getting the courage to send you the invite.” August informed you, smirking at Henry, who blushed and looked at neither of you. “But we're both quite happy you said yes.”

“That's true.” Henry nodded, moving the sponge across your shoulders, massaging them as he did. “I hope we didn't push you or anything.” He said, biting his lip as he looked you over.

You let out an amused laugh, tipping your head back to look up at the two men, who regarded you. “It's a bit late to be asking that, isn't it?” You inquired, shaking your head, before relaxing and growing serious. “But no, you guys didn't do anything I didn't want or consent to. Even though I was surprised by August sneaking into the room, like some sort of spy.”

Henry and August looked at each other, an expression of acknowledgment between them for a quick moment, before it passed, and they looked away.

“Suppose we should get back to the party.” You said, as Henry finished helping you wash.

“No.” August shook his head and rinsed the shampoo out of his hair. “The party ended a short while ago. The guests that are staying over, are in their rooms and those that weren't, have long been ushered off the property.” He informed you, causally.

“Just us, darling.” Henry winked, moving into August's spot to shower himself, carefully removing his devil horns. “Do you want to stay here with us, or would you rather I call Marco to take you back home?” He asked, cocking a closed eyed brow at you.

You weighed the options, watching Henry wash, water cascading around and along every groove and line of his muscular body, activating a tingle deep in your exhausted and sore body. “No need to bother him so late.” You finally answered, eyes shifting to August, who was grabbing towels.

Showered and dried off, You, Henry and August filed back into the bedroom. August called Davison up with a phone in the sitting room, having him bring up a few bottles of water for you all, which you were thankful for, since you were parched. Quenched, you climbed into bed, burrowing down under the sheets in the middle, while Henry and August got in on either side of you. Henry looped an arm around your waist, snuggling you against his chest and August lounged close to you, on his back, allowing you to reach out and lay your hand on his chest.

“Good night, my love.” Henry whispered, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

“Sleep well, Sugar.” August cooed, patting your hand gently, and kissed your knuckles.

“Good night.” You hummed, letting your fatigue take a hold of you. “Happy...Hallo-ween.” You mumbled, dropping off, happily cocooned between them.

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mynameis-noe-body · 11 months

Note

Okay, for marquis de gramont we can get reallll toxic. Both the reader and Vincent are angry with each other and are tying to make one another jealous at the event. Because they’re very kinda delulu and possessive they kill the people they're using to make the other jealous and confess their feelings

Thank you so much for this request, my dear anon. I hope you'll love this. 🖤

I am your slave

Marquis Vincent Bisset de Gramont × you (F/GN)

Rating: Teen & Up Audience

Status: Complete (one shot)

Author notes: I used Google translate for the Russian and French sentences. Let me know if it's incorrect!

Obviously. You muttered the word under your breath, chewing its bitter taste, testing its sound on the tip of your tongue as you watched, disarmed, as the Marquis made his triumphal entrance.

The most influential families of the High Table had gathered at the Hotel Mademoiselle de Condé for a gala and business evening. Those weren't rare events, but that didn't make them any less sumptuous. Money flowed freely, as did the champagne, the drugs, the caviar. And the lovers. Yes, they were purchasable too. Women and men of supreme beauty, unattainable, sometimes sons and daughters who were given away, exchanged, lent — everything, in exchange for favors.

But the Marquis — Vincent — never had to ask anyone for anything.

With a gallant gesture he opened the door of his 1970 Cadillac DeVille and offered his arm to a woman. And not yet another high-class whore that he would have refused to touch even with the tip of his little finger, no. The woman who accompanied him that evening was a creature of rare beauty, perhaps someone's protégé. Perhaps his protégé. She was graceful, elegant, she flaunted a cascade of golden curls that would make Venus herself envious. And you, you felt flooded with anger.

"Champagne" you ordered, snapping your fingers. They served you immediately. You too had your power, and you had never hidden it. You knew, deep down, that it was one of the things that attracted him. Your shy elegance fiercely contrasted the anger that could ignite in your heart. The strength of your hands, the fury in your eyes, the power you wielded ruthlessly. Yet, in his arms and in his bed, you were capable of the deepest love, the most total devotion. He was bewitched by it, and inebriated. Therefore, he loved to instigate every jealousy in you, just to have you desperate at the end of the night.

Vincent didn't even glance at you. He shook dozens of hands, ordered food and drinks, laughed with his colleagues and friends. And he ignored you. At least until, from the door of the luxurious hotel, taking off his Armani coat and handing the keys of his Ferrari Portofino to the doorman, Mr. D'Antonio entered.

"Santino!" you exclaimed, with a smile so bright it lighted the entire dining room. Many turned, if only for a moment, to watch you gallop towards the man, with a hem of your beautiful dress grasped between your fingers to reveal crystal heels that echoed off the walls.

Santino opened his arms, and welcomed you with a loud kiss on the cheek. "Meraviglia! Look at you — beautiful, you are beautiful."

Santino was warm, welcoming, purely Italian. And charming, in every aspect of his person. He knew how to make any woman feel like the most beautiful in the world. He gallantly offered you his arm and ordered for you. His laugh was loud, contagious. His exuberant nature amused you. You had been friends for years now. You had worked together, sometimes — often you had worked for him. And he appreciated you. He was generous in his payments. And above all, Vincent was morbidly jealous, because D'Antonio had no qualms about making blatant advances on you, even in front of all those people.

Vincent was daydreaming about murder. God, how he hated him. And yes, he had planned to take that beautiful Parisian home with him, one of the new acquisitions of his organization, now that he saw you... you were his favorite. Oh, bullshit — you were the only one. Since he had met you he had no longer been able to keep faith with his numerous lovers. One by one, they had extinguished his desire, and you had ignited his. Or they were fallen dead, because you killed them. Many of them, to be honest. And every time he learned of one of your murders, his desire to possess you — body and soul — violently took hold of him. He didn't want to give in, not that easily. But now he understood how difficult it was to resist you, while your hand caressed the muscular shoulder of that penniless Italian. That coward. The mere thought that you could enjoy yourself under his fingers made him vomit — so much that he poured what was left of the wine into the boulle and twisted his mouth in a grimace of disgust.

With my bare hands, he thought. He crossed his legs and wrapped himself in his double-breasted jacket, brooding. I want to kill him with my bare hands around his neck. He would have done it. He was Vincent Bisset de Gramont, the Marquis and he could do whatever the fuck he wanted. He could have attached Santino D'Antonio to a pole and set him on fire to make him feel a tenth of the physical pain with which, due to that jealousy, he himself was now burning.

The young woman he had brought with him caressed his face. Or at least, she tried. But he grabbed her wrist before she could touch his cheek. He looked at her with the same hatred. "Go take off that lipstick" he hissed, through clenched teeth. "You look ridiculous."

She obeyed, humiliated, and reached the bathroom. Of course, she didn't expect to meet you anytime soon.

As soon as you saw her walking away towards the toilet, you took your chance, followed her and closed the door behind you with a sharp slam, waiting for her right there, outside her niche. She, surrounded by that shiny hair, those brilliant eyes, those scarlet lips, had raised a single eyebrow in an inquisitive manner.

"And you are?" she asked, passing a cloth over her lips, cleaning them from that bright color.

You inhaled deeply. "You know who I am."

She allowed herself an amused smile. "Ah," she had commented, smugly, "nomer dva."

You thought that, before speaking, she should have made sure that you didn't speak Russian.

▪️▪️▪️

"Dance with me." Vincent took your hand, intertwined his fingers with yours and dragged you before you could respond, or refuse.

He had chased you as soon as you left the bathroom. The Marquis had immediately noticed your flushed chest, your freshly washed hands, your disheveled hair pulled back with a mechanical gesture of your hand, your pupils as narrow as pinpricks. Magnificent. On the dance floor, he had first twirled you once, before grabbing you and holding you against his chest; one hand — the right one — on your back, the lower part, the other intertwined with yours and pressed against his chest, on the beating of his heart. And his face in the corner between your neck and your shoulder.

You huffed, trying to maintain composure. "They're all watching us" you whispered in his ear. He smiled against your skin. "You'll make us look ridiculous in front of the High Table."

"Mon amour. I am the High Table." Vincent left the ghost of a kiss on your neck before making you sway in his arms. Another pirouette, and there you are again in his inevitable grip. "I could order half the men in this room to lick the floor where you walk, and they would do it for me."

You barely held back a small smile. "I can not stand you." But you settled a little more against his chest. The soft, slow music lulled you gently. "And what do you think of Santino? Would he kneel for you too?"

His nails dug into your side, making you flinch. You met his icy eyes in mid-air. So cold, so beautiful. "The Italian. That's it then, you like him."

"He's a charming man."

"He is rude, and vulgar. So pompous."

"And you're not?"

You almost heard him growl. Vincent shot a terrible look at D'Antonio, across the room, who was watching you swing on the dance floor with dark, annoyed eyes.

"You shouldn't be here with me" you added, coldly. "Your woman? Where is she?"

He laughed heartily. "Oh, please. We both know she won't make it out of that bathroom alive. How long did it take you to kill her?"

But you didn't answer. You never responded to his curiosity... it was your game.

Vincent grinned. The kiss on your neck now became passionate. You felt his soft lips caress your skin from your bare shoulder to the tip of your chin with five deep, intense kisses. "You drive me crazy."

This time, you smiled happily. "You are sick."

Vincent looked deadly serious, hovering over you, his back straight and tall to tower over your beautiful figure. "I will have monsieur D'Antonio's raw heart served to me on a silver platter. I will kidnap you, lock you in a dungeon, make you die of hunger and thirst if necessary — anything, as long as you admit the truth."

He was scary. Exciting. Terrifying. Beautiful. You blushed, panting slightly. "What truth? What the hell are you talking about?"

He smiled. He leaned down and whispered in your ear. "That you love me, mon amour."

"I —" yes, you loved him. And you loved the way he made you feel. You loved that hateful jealousy you felt for him, and that he felt for you. You caressed his face with an unexpected sweetness. Your eyes were large, languid. Vincent felt his whole body tremble like never before... "I'll tell you. Not now, though. Tomorrow morning. Now, take me home, and make love to me."

He stopped. He smiled, looking younger than he was. So happy. With a ridiculous low bow, he offered you his hand. "Je suis ton serviteur."

#marquis de gramont #vincent de gramont #Vincent Bisset de Gramont #john wick #john wick fanfic #john wick fandom #marquis de gramont x reader #Vicent de Gramont x you #Marquis De Gramont x you #bill skarsgård

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first-edition · 1 year

Text

Cadillac

billy Hargrove x reader

Sum- Billy’s car is in the shop so as a rental he drive a cadillac. Taking you out to the movies it seems he wants to break your one rule.

You dont fuck in Cadillacs

Song (Cadillacs by Ayesha erotica)

Cw- smut, fingering fem rec., car sex, riding, chocking, semi-public sex.

You walk out of your house seeing your boyfriend leaning against his car.

“Hey baby.” He says pulling you into him. His lips meet yours hungrily as he kisses your lips. You kiss him back smiling out of it before it fades as you notice his car.

You tilt your head looking at the bright red car.

“Where’s your car?” You ask looking up at him.

“In the shop her transmission busted out while i was teaching max to drive.” He says

“You were teaching max..to drive? She’s 13.” You say.

“Never too early.” He says letting go of you before moving to the side and opening the door for you.

“You want me to get in that?” You ask.

“Do you wanna walk to the movies?” He asks raising his eyebrow. you shrug and get in the car.

“Im not fucking in a Cadillac.” You say he chuckles closing the door but not before stealing another kiss.

———

Pulling into the drive in you take your spot. You wait by the car while billy goes to get snacks.

As the movie plays out you glacé over seeing all the other couples’s lips glued together hands down pants. Billy’s hand rests against your thigh his fingers caressing them. Slightly disappointed in yourself for not fucking your man right now but also proud of yourself for keeping to your word.

Lost in your own thoughts your shoulder angel and devil fighting you, Billy’s hand moves closer to your core up your thigh. You gasp feeling his fingers ghost over your clothed cunt.

“B-Billy.” You gasp crossing your legs only prompting him to push your legs open.

“Be good..” he harshly says.

“I said no sex..” you say

“This isn’t sex now is it.” He says pushing your panties to the side. His fingers circle around your cunt already wet and aching just thinking about breaking your Cadillac rule from before.

His finger dips into you making you gasp. He thrusts his finger in and out fucking your cunt pressing against the sponges spot easily manipulating your nerves into the steps of an orgasam. A gasp excapes your lips as his motion become faster.

“Ngh…b-billy.” You moan out quietly. He looks over to you a smirk on his face as he leans over to seat pulling his fingers from your core. You’re about to protest but his lips make contact with yours making you moan in to his mouth. He pulls you to him only prompting you to climb over the side port and onto his lap straddling him.

He groans as he feels you grind against his obvious boner. The rough fabric of his jeans inching you to get off. His ringed finger dig into your flesh as hes pulled your shirt up.

His hands wander up and under your shirt feeling your back easily unclipping your bra. He pulls your shirt off and over your head. He reaches down to the side of the seat pulling the lever as the tops falls back against the backseat. Laying back as his hands roam your body your bare breast to up to his face to his liking as he nips and sucks on them making little moan exude from your lips.

Your hand wanders down between you too as you palm his erection causing him to relapse your tits.

“Fuck..” he hisses as you unzip his pants slipping your hands through his boxers to feel his erection.

“F-fuck baby.” He whines as he grips your sides, rough fingertips digging into your perfect flesh. He sits up pushing you back a bit your back accidentally hitting the horn of the car setting it off.

“Shit.” He chuckles making you laugh as well as scrambles to pull out his cock without setting the horn off again.

Fucking in his car would be no problem as hes used to the space but this car is a bit different not knowing how far the wheel is from the seat. All the calculation are off but that’s not gonna stop him from making you cum in the rental.

He moves your panties to one side but get annoyed and rips them off you squeal hoping when you hurry back up the stairs home your mother dosnt follow you to say goodnight.

He kisses your lips as he pushes himself into your drenched core. You moan out of the kiss your fingers intertwining themself in his locks as your chest is pressed against him your collar bones perfect height for him to leave hickeys.

He lays back against the seat as he thrusts up into you.

“F-fuck ah..b-billy” you moan out as the sensation of his thick cock hits every spot so well. Pulling you down to him your head rests on his chest he drills into you. Not just making the car rock but making you gasp and moan out in pleausre.

He begins a brutal pace. Your stuttering moans fills his ears. Windows foggy and nails clawing at the fine leather of the head recast above him. His hand comes down and smacks your ass hard making you squeal as his pace seemingly becomes faster.

His moans and grunt making you clench around his dick as he grips your ass. Brusies from his rings surely being left behind.

"Fuuuuckkk, Billyyy! M'gonna cum!" You whimper. He chuckles pulling you away from him as his hand wraps around your throat still drilling up into you the red button down shirt now untucked and messy as part of his chest shows.

“Cum on me baby, fucking do it cum on me and this rented leather.” He grunts as his thumb forces its way into your mouth presses it down on your tounge.

As if on command by some magic spell you cum squeezing your boyfriends dick as your eyes roll back. His other hand moving down to your center, thumb immediately finding your clit rubbing it making your squeal out arching your back .

“Fuuuck baby yeah…like that come on.” He says as his balls tighten a few rough thrusts back into you and he paints your walks with his cum. Filling you as it leaks out down your thing onto the legs of his pants simultaneously making you orgasam for the third time.

He pulls his hand away not wanting to over whelm you and slows down his thrusts. Removing his hand from your neck he pulls you to him once again keep himself seating inside you for a bit before slowly pulling out.

You both pant as he kisses your face making you giggle.

————

He walks you up to your door and smiles his hand resting on the small of your back.

“So…” he begins.

“Mm?” You ask. Turning to him as his hands rest on your waist.

“What was that thing you said…about not fucking in Cadillacs.” He says pulling you into him his hand gripping you ass making you gasp.

“I dont know what you’re talking about?” You say looking up to him. His eyes glacé down to your lips as his tounge licks a strip over his bottom lip breaking into a smile.

“Mmhm does that rule not apply anymore…” he says

“Dosnt apply to those who have fucked me in one.” You say.

“How many was that?” He says moving closer to you.

“Just one…” you say pecking his lips before opening your door walking in side. And shutting the door. Giggling as you hurry up your stairs to watch him from out your windows getting back into his car and driving off.

#billy hargrove x reader smut #stranger things smut #billyhargrovexreader #billy smut #billy hargrove x reader fluff

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megamindsecretlair · 1 year

Text

Substance

Pairing: Tyrone x Black!Fem!reader / Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+. Minors DNI., multiple uses of derogatory names and daddy kink. You are in charge of your own reading experience! Intentional use of AAVE. Porn without plot. Cursing, PIV, fingering (fem receiving), derogatory language, possession kink, size kink, all consensual. Sorry if I miss any others!

Summary: Tyrone has to set you straight since you don't know how to stop running your mouth.

Word Count: 2,189k

A/N: I have no excuses for myself. Like none, at all. I get to writing and I just can't help it. Somebody take this keyboard away from me! Likes are always awesome. Please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers!

Taglist: @planetblaque @dayjlovesromance @henneseyhoe @amyhennessyhouse @melaninpov @wakandas-vibranium - hope this is okay!

“Tyrone just came in,” you friend whispered in your ear and you rolled your eyes.

“So?” You asked.

“He’s heading right for you.” You rolled your eyes again. If it were possible to roll them further, you’d be a circus attraction. You sucked your teeth and examined your nails.

“Ain’t nobody worried about that muthafucka,” you said.

“That right?” A deep, masculine voice said off to the side.

The whole room seemed to whip their head in his direction. The kickback was a cozy affair with only people from the block. You all had been growing up in the same building your whole lives. Rare when you lived in the hood. Most days, it felt like none of ya’ll would ever get out. It was cadillacs and rap music for the rest of your lives.

So, that meant that everyone knew all about you and Tyrone’s fucked up relationship. When you weren’t fighting, you were fucking like jackrabbits.

Tyrone stood in the doorway and stared at you. He wore a black T-shirt and black sweats. You stared back into his warm brown eyes. Out of all of the features you loved on Tyrone, his eyes always held a special place in your heart.

Your friends all looked between you like watching a fucked up tennis match.

“Bye, Tyrone,” you said.

Your friend caught your eye and raised her eyebrows. Yes, you were really talking to Tyrone like that.

Tyrone laughed. “It’s ‘bout time we talked. Let’s go,” he said.

You crossed your arms and legs on the couch and looked straight ahead. You looked like a petulant child but you didn’t care. The balls on this muthafucka.

Smoke hung heavy in the air as joints were abandoned in people’s hands. Beer bottles were halfway raised to someone’s lips. They were all staring at you. Even Tyrone.

“No, Tyrone. Fuck you,” you said. Your friend gasped and moved away from you. You scrunched up your face at her until she nodded towards Tyrone.

His nostrils were flared. He licked his lips and chuckled. He bent down to you and got close to your ear.

“You had your little show. Get that ass up right muthafuckin’ now,” he demanded.

He used that tone. You glanced at him. He was pissed. He grabbed your arm and pulled you off of the couch. The tension broke in the room as he waved his hands at his boy across the room. The music turned up louder and the guys in the room started talking loud and getting everybody to hype up.

Oh shit. Oh shitshitshit. You were in deep trouble. Still, you clung to your rage. You had to let him know that you were sick of his bullshit. Sick of the games. Sick of the lying.

He pulled you into the nearest room. The hallway was dark so it looked like he was taking you somewhere nefarious for a second. He pushed into the room and turned on the light. The harsh light was extra bright due to your comfortable buzz. You squinted as he locked the door behind you.

He pushed into your back until you were pinned against the counter. You couldn’t turn without hurting your neck. You looked at him through the mirror.

“Tyrone, what the fuck?”

“What’s this I hear about you wantin’ to leave me alone?” He asked.

“Boy, move!” You tried to push back against him. But he didn’t move an inch. He ground himself into you and you felt his hard bulge. Fuck, he was so big. Your pussy clenched just thinking about how deep he used to get.

He gripped your braids and pulled your head back. Your neck was exposed. He bit your neck, hard. You cried out and moved against him.

“The fuck I tell you? This ain’t never going anywhere,” he said.

“Fuck you, Tyrone. I’m sick of this back and forth shit. I’m tired,” you said. You hiccuped around the word ‘tired’ and you looked away from him in the mirror.

“Baby, how can I prove that it’s no one but you,” he said. He used his free hand to lift up your chin.

“I’m tired of these hos using you to hurt me,” you whispered.

“Stop listening to them! Listen to me. I’m your man. I take care of what’s mine. And I know that sexy ass pussy is missing Daddy right now,” he said.

Desire flooded your panties as he talked. You wanted to look away from him but his hand was still in your hair.

“I’m done, Tyrone,” you said.

He kissed your neck and you arched your back against him. He leaned forward, putting more pressure on the counter on your stomach. You cried out.

“Stop sayin’ that shit. This ain’t never goin’ anywhere,” he said. He nibbled on your neck while looking at you in the mirror.

“Say that shit back and quit playin’. Say it and I’ll treat you real good,” he said.

You cried and rubbed your ass into his thick cock. Your resolve was weakening quickly. But you had to keep your eye on the prize. He had to see that you two were going to rip each other apart.

“Baby, we need to stop doing this,” you said. “We can’t keep hurting each other,” you said.

“You just have to trust me. Trust me. Trust your man. Trust my word over these airheads,” he said.

He went back to kissing your neck. His hand left your hair and went to the hem of your short dress. He drew it up until you took it off completely.

You went without a bra and Tyrone stared at your titties. He rubbed your breasts in his capable hands. His fingers squeezed your nipples and you bit your lip to keep from moaning.

It had been too long since he touched you. And yet he still knew all of the things that drove you insane.

“Trust me,” he said. He used his right hand to move his warm hand over your stomach and down to your panties. His fingers dipped inside and he hummed in the back of his throat at how wet you were.

“See how much she misses Daddy? Trust me.” He began to play with your pussy, dipping his long fingers into your dripping cunt and then pulling out to play with your clit. He rubbed the little nub faster and faster until you were standing up on tiptoes.

One hand rolled your nipple back and forth and pinched it occasionally. His other hand used the thumb to trace circles on your clit while pumping into your faster and faster since your arousal was gushing out of you.

“You know you miss me. Stop fightin’ me all the damn time. You know that I’m the only one who knows how to take care of you,” he whispered in your ear.

You moaned because yes, he was the only one that knew how to get you off. Before Tyrone, there was only one other guy who knew how to get in your guts. And his ass was in jail for life. You really didn’t want to have to kiss so many frogs in order to get to someone else that could touch that deep pit inside of you.

Every time Tyrone entered you, it was like filling up your spirit. He was made for you. He was the perfect match. “Sometimes, you make me so damn angry,” you managed to say while he twisted his fingers over your clit.

“That’s because you get ornery and shit when you ain’t had this dick,” he said. He rubbed his crotch into your ass and you bit your lip.

“Look at yo ass in the mirror,” he said.

You rolled your eyes until you could focus on your image. You looked halfway to ruin. Your braids all went different directions and fell across your body. Your titties were still being tended to by Tyrone. He looked like some dark god behind you out to corrupt you.

“You need this dick to set yo ass right. All you do is run that damn mouth,” he said.

His fingers slipped out of you and cried from missing them. His hand moved from your nipple and you sighed at the release of pressure. He kissed your neck and then your back. He trailed his hands up and down your sides, over your breasts, and then down your thighs. He kissed down your spine. He put two fingers under your panties and pulled until you stepped out of your panties.

He kissed and bit on your thighs until he stood up and used his leg to spread yours wide. You felt him move behind you as he pulled his sweats down and freed himself. He slapped his long dick against your pussy and you cried out.

You were tense and ready to come. “I can’t help it when I miss you,” you whined.

“Nah, you got a foul ass attitude. That shit stops, you feel me?” He asked.

“Yes,” you said.

“Yes what?”

“Yes, Daddy. I swear,” you said. You’d agree to sell your soul to satan himself if it meant that you’d finally get Tyrone back inside of you.

He ran the tip of his dick through your slick folds to coat it in your juices. He grabbed your ass cheeks and spread you open so he could see himself go in.

He probed your entrance and you cried out as you felt him go in. You raised your eyes to the mirror and saw his head thrown back with a word hovering over his juicy lips.

He worked himself in with shallow strokes. He’d go in as far as your slick would let him and then he’d pull out completely. He continued to do that until he worked all of himself inside you.

“Fuck, I missed this pussy. Missed. This. Fuckin’. Pussy.” On every word, he thrusted harder. Your hands gripped at the counter but you couldn’t find anything to hold on to. You just had to stand there and take his dick and his deep strokes.

“Fuck, fuck Tyrone,” you whined.

“That’s it. You know Daddy takes care of his pussy,” he said. “Don’t you?”

“Yeah,” you said.

“Yeah? Fuckin’ act like it then. Soak this dick, then,” he said. He stopped talking and started stroking like he was getting paid for it. He leaned over you and pulled you down on his dick by your elbows.

The wet slap of his thighs on your made your desire pool low and painful in your belly. “Tyrone, fuck,” you cried.

“Mhm, I don’t wanna hear that shit. I wanna hear you cryin’ on this dick. I wanna fuck the attitude out of yo sexy ass,” he said.

“Oh god, oh god,” you said.

“God’s not welcome here,” he growled in your ear. You came instantly. You flooded his dick with your juices and cried out, calling his name.

“That’s it. Let everyone know who this shit belong to,” he said. The others in the party knew you were getting your guts rearranged right now. They probably heard you screamin’ his name. And right now, you didn’t give a fuck.

“Fuck,” you said with a broken sigh.

It was Tyrone’s turn to speed up inside of you before coming. He stuffed you full of his cum. He continued to fuck it deeper into you. He kept going so hard, that you knew his exact dick shape was imprinted inside of you. His cum was going to be leaking out of you for hours.

Tyrone huffed above you before slapping your ass. It jiggled and he slapped it again. He kept slapping the same spot until that spot was on fire. You reared up.

“That’s for the fuckin’ attitude and backtalkin’ me. This ain’t never goin’ anywhere,” he said.

He looked at you in the mirror. You nodded. “Nowhere. Me and you, Tyrone,” you said.

You couldn’t keep fighting him and this. You needed him inside of you. You needed him to give you exactly what you were craving. You needed him like a crackhead needed drugs. He was under your skin. He was the dust in your bones and the air in your lungs.

Tyrone pulled out and you both groaned as his head passed through your pussy. He kissed both of your ass cheeks before he squatted down and pulled your panties up. You shivered from your wetness and his cum mixing together.

“Hold that shit in. I’ll teach you another lesson at my spot later, so go in there and be good for me,” he said.

You groaned. “I can’t, Daddy,” you said. There was no way you could act normal while you felt his cum slip out of you.

He swatted your cheek again. Then he pulled you flush against him. “You will. Understood?” He asked.

You nodded. He helped you slip on the dress. He turned you around and kissed you deeply, passionately, as if one wrong move and then you would disappear. It was an unexpected moment of sweetness that brought tears to your eyes.

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