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keresnotceres · 11 months

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Good, Good, Great

Ghost x Fem!Reader (And they were roommates)!

[nsfw] cw(s): Jealousy, alcohol consumption, references to smoking, strip club, rdr calls ghost ‘big boy’ several times, suggestive content, non-explicit sex (it’s mentioned), rdr is highkey a brat lol, mention of dumbification.

PART TWO

3.4k words I don’t understand how UK currency works so i guessed, ALSO! Reader is kind of a slut!! Because we don’t get enough readers that have BEEN AROUND TOWN (iykwim) and I am hellbent on fixing that :) ALSO ALSO this kinda sucks and it’s prolly OOC but I spent like four days on it so here u go <33

You’re not dating — but he’s not keen on sharing. He sees you serving another table drinks, scantily dressed, hips swaying with every step, and can’t help but watch with a glare as some other man sets a 20 between your tits.

How Laswell convinced both herself and Price that a strip club was the best place to meet and discuss information on a new mission was beyond Ghost. It wasn’t until two blocks away from the venue did he begin to recognize the surroundings, the streets, and damn it, even the people.

He forwent the skull mask and the skull-patterned balaclava for a plain black surgical mask that left him feeling bare and exposed. Only a thin piece of fabric was between him and his anonymity; two strings that held together the Ghost façade from falling into Simon.

He’d be damned if he told the others that he recognized the club — that he frequented it. Not for a certain stripper, no, not for the girls performing at all. He knew every staff member from the amount of times he’d come to pick you up after your serving shift.

You always smelled like alcohol and someone’s blueberry vape, sometimes weed; you claimed that just came with the job. He’d respond asking if he smelled like gunpowder and metal, if that was the case. He remembered how you shook your head.

“You smell like cigarettes and aftershave.”

He grimaces as they approach the shining lights of the club. Myth is a looming building; five floors, only two used for actual club affairs. The other three were offices or something equally as boring; even if you would prattle on about your outlandish suspicions of a mafia being run up there.

The first floor had the basics; a main stage that was across from the full bar, a plethora of sleek tables and uncomfortable leather chairs filling the space between the two attractions. On the far wall, a few booths with itchy velour couches separated by fake bushes. Doors sat on either side of the four booths, both led to some sort of VIP room that Ghost had never stepped foot in.

The second floor overlooked the stage section of the first, only the dancers could see the people decorating the steel railings. It was usually reserved for the rich people, the important men who had had wives and didn’t want to be seen in the public eye, the men who were desperate enough to pay extra to pretend they could get some, and the people staff liked. Ghost happens to fit into the latter category.

There was a second stage on the upper floor, it wasn’t often dancers were up there performing, they were usually lounging around with someone they knew would paid them well. The was a second, smaller bar which served the singular purpose of storing new bottles, which caused you to complain about having to go up and down the stairs every time you had to get another round for a table.

His constant presence had led to him “befriending” the bartenders (if getting a free drink counted as being friends) and getting half-hired as security (he was roughly the same size as the men they already had for the job), even the hostesses knew to assign him to your section each time he walked in.

It baffled him, to say the least. Even after he was gone for 11 months the one time, (what a god awful time that was), the Myth staff knew who he was.

Ghost didn’t even register Price trying to tell him to stop as he walked to the shiny glass doors of Myth. The thing that dragged him out of an absentminded state was Soap’s obnoxiously loud laughter, Ghost stopped dead in his tracks and spun around to face the rest of the task force.

“Yae walkin’ right in like ye own the place, eh, Lt?” He had a conniving grin on his face. “Didnae take you for that kinda guy.” Gaz looked like he was trying to picture Ghost in a club, Price only looked at him with mild amusement on his face.

Ghost glares at Soap, embarrassed. “I’m going where we were told to go.”

“Wasting no time, either.” Gaz manages to crack a smile from Price with his chide.

“Are we going in, or not?” Ghost’s eyebrows raise in questioning, his patience already running thin. He looked over his shoulder at the bouncer, who he wishes he didn’t recognize as Paul.

Gaz had already fished his ID out of his pockets, the graying white background of the Royal Air Force card reflecting the sign lights. Soap wasn’t far behind him, most people who see someone with a mohawk assume it’s a teenager who lost a bet. Anyone could look at the Captain and know he’s over the age of 18, no college student could rival the man’s facial hair.

And Ghost? All he had to do was look Paul in the eyes and he was let though without even a second glance. It was no different than if he were just coming in to pick you up, although it was considerably earlier than your usual 2 AM clock outs. Ghost forgot the club was even open at 5 PM.

He got an odd look from Soap at the lack of identification, but odd looks from Soap were a daily occurance.

The club looked the exact same as when he’d left 4 months ago, the same blue-purple lighting, same ugly silver bead curtains hanging over the walls, and the same Thursday night bartender. His name was something along the lines of Tony (Tim?); Ghost hadn’t particularly cared about him, he’s never at the club on Thursdays anyway. Your shifts are normally on the weekends, only the occasional Thursday if there was an event.

The hostess seems to be familiar, too. She’s either Camille or Angelica; he could never really remember who was who. The two have the same bleach blonde, blue eyes, and freckles; they’re practically the same person to Ghost. He really only pays attention to you when he’s at Myth.

The hostess stares at Ghost for a second, as if trying to recognize him. Before she could try to speak, Price cut in.

“We’re meeting someone here. Blonde hair, a little older.” His eyes scan the half-empty floor of the room. “She might be upstairs?”

The hostess perks up at the mention of a woman. “Right. Follow me, please.”

The blonde led the group of them upstairs, two of the 20 tables had people at them. Only one of them had a Laswell-looking woman at them. The other was a group of seven men; each in a suit, and each with a glass in their hand.

Once the hostess set a few menus on the table, she spoke a final time. “Your server will be right over.”

Ghost let the others sit down before him, eyes lingering on the group of men across from them before they slid over to Laswell. She looked as comfortable as any other person in a strip club by choice, lounging back in her chair with a cocktail in her hand.

“You look disgruntled,” she notes, eyes resting on Ghost.

“You had us meet in a strip club,” Ghost mutters. “This isn’t my usual scene.” It was quite the lie, really. He’s spent more time here than any other pub in the Manchester area at this point.

“It’s close to home.” She takes a sip of her drink, completely at peace. “And it’s unsuspecting. Who comes into a strip club to talk about top secret information?”

Ghost looks at her, unamused. “Us.”

Laswell ignores the distaste in his voice. “You don’t have to worry about that group,” her head tilts in the direction of the rowdy group of men. “They’re all drunk or too focused on the girls to even bother listening to us.”

The distant sound of heels against the floor catches his attention, his eyes fly towards the staircase. And there you are, flouncing up the stairs with three glasses in one hand and a bottle of Blue Label in the other.

You make your way to the group of men, a customer service smile plastered on your face. Ghost can’t hear your words, but he watches you set the bottle down in front of the most important-looking man, along with two of the glasses you were carrying.

He watches as your shoulders bounce when you laugh at something he says, though it looks like the fakest giggle you can muster.

He watches as the man takes a 20 pound note from his pocket and tucks it right between your tits. On instinct, Ghost’s hands tighten into fists and he glares. It’s a sharp glare, one he’d give to some idiot recruit that tried being cocky. You gasp, then smile brightly at the man, he can tell you’re saying thank you profusely from the way your mouth is moving.

You step away from the man and Ghost’s eyes fly from him to you, and his glare drops into a normal enough look, but his fists are still tight; his fingernails dig into the palms of his hands.

Ghost’s eyes roam your body, how the little black skirt you’re wearing rode up just enough that it would be considered a tease, how the black shirt you’re wearing is just a little too tight around your tits, and the 20 pound note that was stuck right between the two of them. He had to consciously unclench his fist before anyone would notice.

Then you come prancing over, hips swaying almost hypnotically as you walk, a glass of bourbon nestled in your hand.

You smile sweetly as you bend down in front of him, showing off both your tits and the note right between them, and set his glass on the table.

“I believe that’s for you, big boy.” Fuck, he missed hearing your voice, the nickname flies over his head through his stupor. Even if it was the faux, sultry version of it you used for work. “Can I get the rest of you anything? A beer? Whiskey?”

It was almost impossible for Ghost to tear his eyes away from you, rather, that damn note between your breasts. He wanted to pluck it out and throw it right back at the other man, replace it with something bigger, better.

When he notices Gaz’s disturbed stare, his eyes avert from you.

Gaz’s eyes trail from his to yours, “I’ll take a Manhattan.”

You smile at him, “of course, is Sazerzac okay?” Gaz nods shortly, glancing away from you to avoid Ghost’s stare. “Anyone else?” You pivot towards Price, shifting your weight from one leg to the other.

Price angles his head to meet your gaze, squinting through the LEDs of the club. “Gin and tonic,” his eyes don’t leave yours, “Hendrick’s.” An offhand comment from Soap entertains the liquor’s Scottish origins.

You nod along with his words, then tilt your head towards Soap. “Can I get you anything?”

“I’ll have a Coke.”

“I hope you mean the soda,” you muse. You didn’t get any reaction out of the group, not a single smile — how disappointing. “We have the cherry kind, if you’re into that.”

Soap shakes his head, a small frown on his face. “Just normal Coke’ll do.”

You hum absentmindedly, “alright.” Your eyes flicker to Ghost, the smile on your face contorts into a little mischievous one. “Are you going to be wanting the bottle, Simon?”

You really are a vixen, aren’t you? Through grit teeth, Ghost spits out, “no.”

“Alright, then. I’ll be back with those drinks, boys.” A single wink, and you were off. Low heels clacking against the tile floor, hips swaying side to side. Ghost was all too aware of every detail of your retreating body, from the way your hair bounced with each step you took, how the skirt you wore rode up just slightly enough to make his grip on his bourbon tighten.

Ghost fights the urge to get up, grab you by the waist, and pull you onto him. Both his experiences and his logical reasoning say it’s a terrible idea, yet the idea of reminding you who you ultimately belong to is so enticing he could be drooling.

He’s seen you cockdumb; it almost always comes after you pull a stunt like this. Of course, he knows you do it just for the sake of getting him bothered and getting fucked stupid. But he also likes the idea that you do it just for him. You put on a little show.

He finally put it together years ago. Back when you would bring over some pathetic-looking hookup just to see his reaction. When you’d fake moan loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear, then look at him the next morning through your eyelashes all innocent.

At some point, the hookups ended, and you began flirting with customers right in front of him. Just like you had done a moment before.

When your head disappears from view, Soap is the first to attack him vocally, almost gawking after you. “You’re on a first name basis with the bottle girls at a strip club?” He looks incredulously at Ghost, almost jealous.

“Is that why you were in such a hurry to get inside? You knew this was where your flings worked?”

Soap leans in closer, “how often do you come here, LT?” It was question after question from the Scotsman, and despite his inclination towards him, Ghost was getting slowly more fed up.

Ghost set his glass down, “I’m going to the bathroom.” He put his hands to his knees and stood up from the plush seat, eyes scanning the other group one more time before he left his teammates at the table.

It doesn’t take long for him to find you, leaning up against the doorframe to the server’s closet while you wait for another cocktail server to put in a ticket, twiddling your coworker’s Elfbar in your hands until she reaches behind her for the vape.

You hand it off to her and turn to face Ghost, a catty smile adorning your lips. “How can I help you, sir?” Ghost stops a few inches before you and a hand darts towards your cleavage. He tugs the 20 pound note from between your tits, your hands following his to grab for it.

You give Ghost several noises of grievances as he holds the note away from you, a look of slight disgust evident in the ways his eyes narrowed and his brows furrowed.

By the time you gave up trying to reach the banknote, he’d begun digging in his back pocket. “I’d like my tip back, asshole.”

Ghost says nothing in return, no noise or gesture to acknowledge he had heard you. Instead, he tugs a 20 and a 50 pound note from his pocket and tuck the two bills into the space between your breasts. The money from the other man was crumpled and shoved back into his pocket.

You don’t stop him, you’re a bit too turned on to even think of stepping away from him.

“There,” he mutters. “your tip.” He steps back from you, like he was going to leave and go back to his table. You, however, were having none of that.

“Hold on.” Your hand twitches, stopping before it could shoot out to grab his wrist (but you’re smarter than that, you know him). “You didn’t call or anything.”

Ghost frowns under the mask. “I’m not home.” It was a clipped reply, not one you wanted.

“What?” You match his frown, annoyed.

“I’m here for work. You saw the others,” his hand gestures vaguely to the upstairs, “they’re my coworkers.”

You raise an eyebrow, “you work with someone who has a mohawk?” Disappointment flickers in Ghost’s eyes, if it was from your question or just the thought of Soap’s haircut, you didn’t know. The poor man isn't even there to defend himself.

“Is it that hard to believe?” Ghost knows that, yes, it is hard to believe that he worked with a Scotsman with a terrible haircut while continuing to be the infamous Lieutenant ‘Ghost.’

The look on your face screams ‘yes.’

Ghost relents, “listen.” His voice has a certain sadness in it that makes you calm down a bit. Truthfully, you’re pretty damn pissed at him for just showing up out of the blue from God-knows-where, but your expression softens after a few seconds.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Riley.” Your coworker nudges your shoulder to let you know it was your turn to use the kiosk. “Go back to your friends,” you wave your hand in a dismissive fashion. “I’m working.”

Ghost doesn’t budge, even after you’ve ducked between the bead curtains that dangle at the top half of the doorway. You pop back out of the doorway, an unsurprised look on your face.

“Don’t flirt with him.”

Your eyebrows fly up, an incredulous tone flooding your voice. “What?”

“Don’t flirt with him,” Ghost repeats, his eyes boring into yours.

You set a hand on your hip, annoyed. “I’m making money.” The look in his eyes doesn’t change, he’s utterly serious about some random man you’re flirting with for extra cash. A thought crosses your mind, and your annoyance melts into mischief.

“You’re jealous over him?” The way his eyes widen a bit is enough to tell you that, yeah, he is. “Really, big boy?”

And fuck, if you didn’t have him wrapped around your finger by the way you walked, you had him now. All it took was one stupid nickname and Ghost is crumbling into Simon.

“Not jealous,” is his defense. You just soak it in with a grin on your face. You step towards him a little, shoulders forward and leaning down ever so slightly so that your cleavage is a little more obvious, so that the money he stuck between your tits is poking right out at him.

“You sure?” You look up at him, still grinning like your coworker once had when she got a free vape from a customer. “Seems like you’re a bit jealous.”

All he can do is stare down at you, clenching his jaw shut lest he say something he really shouldn’t. But God, does he wish he could.

Really, if it weren’t only 5 PM, he would’ve let you get to him. Let you drag him into an empty VIP room and fuck your words right out of you, leaving you a whimpering, babbling mess. But Ghost — Simon — knows better than to incapacitate you when you’re working.

All he’s left to do is watch as you give him little smirks from across the room, as you adjust your clothes to be just a bit more revealing, as you get close enough that he can smell the remnants of your perfume when you ask him aimless questions. And that’s just what he’ll do once you prance off to get his teammates drinks.

You pat him on his covered cheek patronizingly before you slink away, outstretching your hands for the three drinks cluttered at one side behind the bar. You pass him by, drinks in hand.

“If anything,” you look up to his eyes as you pass him, “it’s the guys you’re with you should be jealous of. You know I like older guys.” That’s enough for Simon to be reclaimed by Ghost.

He follows after you, glowering at your back. You don’t have to look back at him to know he’s scowling at you, but it brings you a slight bit of satisfaction.

“C’mon, big boy,” you hum, “I’ll get you another drink if you tell me his name.” You look back at him once you reach the staircase and climb a few steps ahead of him.

Ghost stares into your eyes like a dead man, you almost think you’ve gone a bit too far. “No.”

You give him an exaggerated pout and turn back to the front to see where you’re going. “If you aren’t jealous, you shouldn’t have a problem with it.”

“No,” he huffs, irritation growing steadily. “Ask again and I’ll have your head.”

You quicken your pace on the last few steps, skirt bouncing from the motion; Ghost doesn’t bother to look away. He follows you back to the table where Laswell and the others are chatting quietly.

You lean down to set the drinks on the table, and Ghost takes his chance. His hands hover around your hips, bulge brushing against your ass as he moves behind you to sit down in his seat.

“Sorry,” he muses in the most unapologetic tone you’ve ever heard from him. It’s Simon’s eyes that look into yours, like a challenge. A really, really horny challenge. “Had to get past you.”

#cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #ghost mw2 #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon riley fanfic #fem reader #simon riley mw2 #simon riley x female reader #cod fic #mw2 fic #mw2 x you #mw2 smut #mw2 x reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut #simon ghost riley smut

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livingemkayde · 6 months

Text

between blurred lines

best friend's dad!/dad's best friend!joel miller x f!reader

(pre-outbreak)

↳ warnings: this is rated for 18+ only! minors, please do not interact. smut, unprotected pinv, fingering f! receiving, cockwarming (!?!?!?) uhh dom!joel, significant age gap, dad's best friend mixed with some best friends dad (?!!?!?!?). i think that's it, let me know if i forgot anything.

↳ a/n: I LOOK PRETTY GOOD FOR A DEAD BITCH (she's alive!). im back from my tumblr break bearing a gift! i missed you all like crazy. gonna spend finals week catching up (procrastinating) on all the reading ive missed out on for the last month. i hope you guys like this one.

AND a very special thanks to @joelsversion for beta reading this in it's very early rough, rough stages. my ride or die fr 🤞

↳ summary: joel miller has always been...there. never different, always sporting a brooding scowl etched into his handsome face. he's your best friend sarah miller's dad, arguably worse, your dad's long time buddy. things are never different. not until this summer. not until now.

↳ follow @livingemkaydenotifs if you would like to be notified about more fics like this. love ya'll big time

↳ if you would like to read more of mine: masterlist

“You shouldn’t be in here.” “No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.” He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly. “Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender. “Let it go,” he repeats.

You grew up with Sarah Miller.

Soccer teams, high school football pep rallies, prom, homecoming, college acceptance season. Even though it turned into long distance facetime calls, and text chains nine messages long once college hit, Sarah Miller will forever and always be your best friend.

It’s good to be back in Texas. Both you and Sarah moved back into your childhood homes the second after graduation hit. It’s good to be back, good to see her, your parents, and…Joel.

You hadn’t seen him in a while. The last time you remember spending more than five minutes in his passing presence was when you and Sarah decided on that Chinese place for a post-high school graduation ceremony meal. He’s close with your dad. In an old school kind of way. In a lets raise our kids together kind of way and a the wives can go shopping together kind of way — before Sarah’s mom split, that is.

Joel Miller, always brooding, always gruff and quiet. He’s never different. Though, you can’t help but think things might be different now—

No. You almost have to remind yourself out loud. He’s not different. He never is. He’s Joel Miller and you’re — you’re just a kid. You’re as old as his kid.

Sarah, despite your hardened efforts, managed to drag you out of bed and into the shortest dress you own for a night at some club halfway across town.

“Sarah, are the shot glasses still in the top cabinet?”

You reach for the knob, barely getting onto the balls of your feet before slipping on the cold laminate tiles in the kitchen. Your open palm balls into a fist and makes the cabinets shutter. Sarah responds with something from her room equally as unintelligible as your question was to her. You can feel your dress starting to ride up a little in your efforts, but you rifle through the Miller’s cabinets like it’s your own home. In some ways it is.

“Hey, kid.”

You spin around, and quickly shuffle the hem of your dress back down. He nods his head in a lazy greeting.

“Hey.” You’re breathless for some reason. It’s not because of the shot glasses.

“Been a while,” Joel says, shuffling into the kitchen and setting a mug in the sink. He looks the same. Tousled hair and a beard just beginning to tinge gray. He’s always — always the same.

You clear your throat. “Yeah. Been a while.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

“Good to have you back,” he mumbles, settling back against the kitchen counter. You can see his arms flex when his palms settle onto the countertop. He’s strong, so much bigger than you. You never really noticed the big broadness of him until now. You’re not used to guys like him. All the boys you ever really experienced were clean shaven, soft in a way that told you they’ve never hauled ass through a day’s work. A lifetime of work.

“Good to be back.” He clocks your outfit. You try to change the subject. “How are things?”

“Same ol’ same ol’.” He grabs a beer from the fridge. “Your dad’s gettin’ into golf. Tryna make me go out with him.”

You laugh. “Not your scene?”

“No, not quite.” He shakes his head, sipping on his beer with a smirk that almost makes your knees weak. “What’d you study again?”

You scoff playfully. “Like you remembered in the first place.”

“Play along.” He smirks.

A knot sticks to your stomach, just below your navel. His voice is sickly sweet. Syrupy and Texan. His voice is like medicine.

“Education. Just applied for jobs in the fall.”

“You teachin’?”

“That’s the plan,” you let out with a breathless kind of laugh.

“Smart girl.”

His head cocks, and tilts it to the side. Your breath catches in your throat, palms sweaty against the black fabric of your dress. “Hardly.”

He pauses, eyes you. It’s fleeting—you might think you dream it. You pick at the skin of your own thumb.

“Your dad know you’re goin’ out?”

You scoff. “I’m an adult. Don’t need my dad’s permission.”

“Don’t be a smart ass.”

You eye him, a smirk plays on his lips.

“I’m not—just…grown up, I guess.”

Something unreadable spreads across his face. “I guess.”

You hitch a tough breath.

“What’d you need?” He swigs at his beer.

“Oh.” You look back towards the cabinets, then. “Shot glasses.”

“Moved ‘em,” he nods and stalks forward, backing you against the counter. He’s got a dark swirl of something warming behind his gaze. You don’t try to scoot away. Even when he reaches up next to your head and you hear the clink of two shot glasses brush up against each other in his fingers.

“Don’t have too much fun,” he whispers while he pushes the glasses into your hands and leaves the kitchen.

You desperately, for your life, cannot keep up with Sarah Miller.

She drinks entirely too quickly, efficiently, and practiced for your poor alcohol tolerance to keep up with. She’s a machine, and after three shots in, you’re already wasted. It wasn’t even midnight when your vision started to pull in a sideways direction and everything seemed a little slow. You knew things were taking a turn for the worst when the blonde quaffed frat guy with a Texas A&M polo shirt started sounding a little too funny. He was glued to your hip the entire night, though you aren’t sure you even remember his name correctly. You have your bets set on Colter, but then again, after your second shot, everything started to sound a little fuzzy to your rosied ears.

And when Colter called you and Sarah an Uber at three a.m., you didn’t have the guts to ask him his name, only shooting him a half hearted thanks over your shoulder—your liquid courage having sobered up by the time the Uber rounded the corner to the Miller’s house.

Even though Sarah Miller can throw back shots like it’s her day job, she passed out onto her bed as quickly as you both left her childhood bedroom while running late for your driver to the club.

Before she promptly fell asleep, she mumbled something almost unintelligible into the pink sheets of her twin sized bed. But you could make it out enough to spring back from her words while your heart skipped a beat.

“Get a shirt from my dads room.”

So you knock, quietly, almost too quietly, and when you rap your knuckles against the wood of Joel Miller’s bedroom door a little harder, it pushes open slightly. The crack of it floods black, you can’t see inside, only the dim night sky illuminating the window sill and curtains in its wake.

When you push it open a little further, the door creaks so loud you push your eyebrows together with worry and freeze in your timely steps. But it’s empty. The bed isn’t entirely made, the covers a little rumpled and haphazard. You spot his dresser and make a quick beeline for it, itching to get out of your uncomfortable dress.

The drawer slides open with a shift of wood on wood and you snatch up the first black t-shirt you find sitting neatly on top of the pile. Subconsciously, you bring it to your nose—sunlight, and evergreens, and a little hint of musk that peaks through the laundry detergent. The worn, soft cotton of it makes you sigh deep into the dark bedroom. You close your eyes, ball your fist up around the collar and lean into the dresser with your palm fitting against the edge of wood. Just as you turn around and move to close the drawer in your exit, a voice pulls your eyes up from the darkness.

“What’re you doin’?”

You jump, almost instinctively bringing his shirt to your chest. A sinking, uneasy feeling settles right under your throat. It’s almost like you’ve been caught red handed—you most definitely were.

You don’t say anything. The light pouring in from the hallway surely illuminates you enough. Joel’s eyes trail down to your bare legs, then to his shirt you have clutched in your hands.

“That my shirt?” He points to your chest with a vague gesture of his hands. You look down at the material balled up in between your shaky fingers, then back to his eyes.

“I don’t—” You shake your head even though you know your efforts are fruitless. The least you can do is tell the truth.

“Sarah—she’s—she’s sleeping. Told me to get clothes in here.” You make a slight nod of your head towards his open dresser. He doesn’t say anything, but he takes a step towards you.

“Sorry, I can just—” You point towards the door behind him, and move to leave.

“‘S fine,” he mumbles in that deepened, soaked drawl. All honey, and velvet, wrapping you up into something warm and inviting. It tugs at something just beneath your belly.

When he gets closer, your breath punches out in a staggered rise and fall of your chest. Your fingers don’t move from clutching his shirt. When he nears, he slips a hand past you, brushing your waist, and shuts the drawer closed with a soft thunk.

Your breath catches in your throat, his eyes trail your figure.

“Fun night?”

You clear your throat, nod, slowly, still studying his darkened gaze. “Yeah.”

You clock how close he is when you put your weight on one hip and his jeans brush up against your bare thigh. His breath swirls on your eyelashes. He tugs on his shirt in your hands and lets out a hearty sigh. Shifting from one foot to the other, then again. It seems like you both stay like that for years.

Brown. His eyes are brown—maybe a little darker than they normally are. His eyes try not to roam, but that hint of something is gone before you can blink.

He backs away then, towards the door. Most likely seeing you out. He settles near the entrance and looks back at you. Your bare feet shuffle through the carpet. He nudges the door open with a rough palm on the doorknob, leaning against the frame as you approach.

You’re about to leave, but he catches your elbow, and you spin back to him in a desperate kind of way.

“You look pretty,” he whispers to your surprise. “Forgot t’mention it earlier.”

Pretty.

He thinks you’re pretty. You didn’t even think pretty was in his vocabulary.

You didn’t think he would notice.

You don’t say anything. Your eyebrows furrow with want. You study him, eye his brown stare and the way his chest rises and falls under the navy blue t-shirt he’s wearing. And you slowly—slowly push the door shut. You both watch it close. It clicks, the sound of it deafening to your ears.

He would never, ever make the first move. You’re smart enough to know that for certain, but—pretty. He thinks you’re pretty, and after all this time, it’s still always Joel.

So you turn your back to him, swipe your hair over one shoulder and turn your head to the side. You can hear him silently swear under his breath.

“You mind?” you say, gesturing to the zipper of your dress. His soft steps pads on the floor. You can almost feel his chest against your shoulder blades.

His fingers toy with the zipper, hot and rough but—hesitant. He pulls it down slowly anyways, exposing your back to the crisp air conditioned air, and the heat of his gaze. The straps fall as the zipper does, he curses again, succumbing to your decided fate.

You hold the front of your dress to your body on instinct, even though the only thing you want to do right now involves him ripping it off you.

He doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t do anything else—doesn’t back away or come closer or leave. So you reach your hand backward to find him and gasp softly when his fingers tangle with yours. You pull his hand to your body. He locks onto your waist like a leech.

“What’re you doin’?” He rasps against the shell of your ear, almost like he’s pleading with you. He sounds like he’s in pain. Maybe he’s torn between pleasure and good judgment. You want him to forget about the latter entirely.

Your stomach drops, you glance to the side again.

“I thought—”

“You thought, what?”

Your face goes hot, stare at your feet instead. His hand doesn’t leave you.

“I don’t…”

“You thought this was a good idea?”

You don’t say anything. For some reason you didn’t think it was a bad idea. Not when his hand reaches around to grab your hip.

“What would your daddy think?”

“I don’t really care what he thinks.” An admission more than anything.

He sucks in a breath. A quiet contemplation. The look on his face doesn't read pissed, but it's a far cry from happy. You don't know what is behind his gaze.

“Nothin’ but trouble.” He breathes out in a heavy sigh. “Ain’t ya?”

His voice is so much deeper now. His accent shows through, silken and so southern it makes you grip your dress a little harder on instinct. You’ve lost count of how many times your breath has gotten caught up in the tightness of your throat.

“‘S one word for it.”

He almost growls, his hand skits down to the hem of your dress and pushes his fingers under it, trailing upward, but stopping before he meets lace.

“You shouldn’t be in here.”

“No,” you agree breathlessly. “I shouldn’t.”

He slots himself against you, his other hand grips your hip and pushes you back into him. You gasp softly.

“Let it go.” You realize he’s talking about your dress. You squeeze your eyes shut. His lips skate against your neck in a way that makes you dip your head to the side in a silent surrender.

“Let it go,” he repeats.

You drop the hand on your chest and his t-shirt with it. Your dress falls to the floor in a black blanket of smoke. You gasp when his hands are on you, inching slowly from the hem of your underwear to grasp your breast in a rough, teasing palm.

A small sound escapes past your lips. His other hand, quick to respond, slots over your mouth, silencing you and your whiny moans.

It’s — rough. The way he pushes his palm into your face to quiet your whimpering, forcing your head back to rest against his shoulder. The way he pushes your underwear down your thighs to rest with his forgotten t-shirt, and your all too tight, too short dress. It’s rough, but so, so gentle.

It feels like heaven.

You pitch your back, arching into him in a desperate way. Writhing against him when he finally pushes a calloused finger in between your dripping folds.

“Jesus.” He shakes his head. You can feel the scratch of his beard against your temple. You wonder what that scruff might feel like between your thighs. “Been wantin’ it all night, huh?”

It’s a question, but not one he needs an answer to. The mess between your thighs is evidence enough.

Joel. You try to plead, but he’s relentless in his quieting attempts. The pad of his finger brushes against your clit and you’re keening against him. You can feel him smile.

“Quiet,” he whispers into your ear, then lifts his hand from your mouth, hovering, waiting until the inevitable moan to escape past your lips. But you try your hardest, bite at the skin on the inside of your lip, and he rewards you. He’s a gentleman like that. He sinks his middle finger into your cunt, rubbing tight circles on your swollen clit with his thumb. Everything about him is just so, just right.

Maybe, usually, with other guys, you’d be disappointed if they’re stingy with the foreplay. But you walked throughout the bar all night with slick dripping through soaked lace just at his words in the kitchen. Smart girl. So you push back into him and beg him—

“Joel.” You’re breathless. You plead at him with your body, with everything you have. “Please,” you whisper simply.

Something like desperation and want and a little twinge of anxiety settles in your stomach when he releases you. He walks you back to the edge of the bed. It smells like him when you lay down and the softness of the blankets kiss the edges of your face. You can hear the clink of his belt buckle and you suck in a tiny breath.

“How do you want it, baby?”

You push him back, and his eyes go wide. It’s the first reaction you’ve gotten out of him the whole night. A peak behind his brooding mask. And when you settle each leg on either side of his hips, he groans. It makes you a little more brave.

“Like this,” you whisper, placing your hands on his chest. He grabs at your wrists, and pushes them under his wide palm to his stomach so you lean forward down to him. He pushes his boxers down and you try not to look, but you make a small sound at the sight.

“Look good—” he grunts. You take his tip and notch it at your entrance. “Always look so pretty.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. Everything is different. Everything is new.

Pretty.

“Fuck,” you whisper, glancing down at just the sight of him. The size of him.

“You’re okay, angel.”

Your gaze snaps to his face. He nods. You believe him.

“I—ah—” you whimper. “I can take it.”

“I know you can,” he grunts when you sink down an inch and take the tip of him. Your hips cant at the feeling, taking more of him through groans and pressing whines. He lets you set the pace. Let's you take your time. Even when he’s panting through his gritted teeth and tight lips.

You sink down on him until there’s nothing left to take. It’s almost painful. But he’s right there, playing with the pearl of your clit, massaging your hips. He knows how much you can take and when you can take it. He seems to know alot about you while knowing very little.

“Shit,” you groan. “Oh my — god.”

You can hear him muttering something along the lines of perfect.

It feels that way—perfect. He fits inside you with a tight stretch but nothing compares to the feeling of his throbbing length resting inside you. You would die here with your wanton moans and you would wake to find nothing less.

“Joel,” you whine, clenching around him, the stretch starts to sweeten.

“That’s—fuck—yeah, good girl,” he whispers. He sounds like something sweet and dark and rough. You fist at his t-shirt. Just like the one left forgotten by the door. You don’t remember what you came in here for anymore. Not when you’re dangerously close from his thumb rubbing slow circles on your clit.

“Fuck. Yeah?” He can feel it. From the inside. “Y’gonna come, baby?”

It’s embarrassing. That you could come like this, with him waiting patiently inside you. You don’t have it in you to lie, you don’t have it in you to bounce up and down or move at all. He turned your legs to jello.

“I-I don’t—”

“C’mon,” he grunts and grips your hips to keep him flush to your body. “Know ya want it.”

It only takes one swift rock of your hips. His hands, broad and sprawled out across the plushness of your sides. Your body stalls out on top of him. He sits up to wrap his arms around you and brings you close on instinct. If your brain wasn’t so hazy and you weren’t so lightheaded your heart might swell at the thought. You bite out something sounding somewhat like his name—it’s a garbled whisper and cut of words but you think he gets the gist.

“I—Ngh—fuck,” he whispers into the crown of your hair. You can feel him throbbing inside you. You chuckle something halfway coherent and let him flip you over, settled on your stomach with your face in the sheets. His fingers skip over your backside.

“Joel,” you breathe. “I—”

“Relax,” he says behind you, spreading your folds and staring at the way your cunt clenches around nothing. “Just relax, angel.”

So you do, you sink boneless into the mattress and let him press you down into the sheets. He feels so broad. He feels so good. You tell him quite as much, in not so many words. You feel the weight of him settle behind you, his hand coming up to brace himself by your head.

“God, you feel so fuckin’ good.” He sinks in, inch by inch. It’s not so much of a stretch anymore. Carving a place for himself inside you. It feels like he belongs there. You think to yourself that he probably does. You’re squirming beneath him, wringing your fists in dark blue sheets.

You clamp your eyes shut when he bottoms out. Even more so when he finds a pace he likes and sets it. You don’t have to beg him anymore. Your legs shake beneath his hips, even more so when he hikes your leg up on the bed so he can push deeper.

Something deep rolls through you again. It shocks you. Most of the guys you’ve been with haven’t made you come once, let alone twice.

“I can’t—” you whine. “I—fuck.”

He picks up the pace.

“Y’can,” he grunts. “Know y’can, c’mon, baby.”

You nuzzle your face in cotton. His hips chase his release and you know you’re close when he nudges against your g-spot.

“Don’t stop,” you whine. “Please don’t fucking stop, Joel, please, it—ah."

When you come, he grunts through ragged breaths. White hot pools in your stomach and you whine so loudly you’re worried about the neighbors. His hand comes to brace against the back of your neck. You’re so fucking soaked he slides through you easily.

“Jesus, fuck,” he growls. He bears down on you and your hips and sinks to his elbows when he can’t keep himself up anymore. You feel the cotton of his t-shirt brush against your back. It sends a shiver up your spine. He comes, pulling out and spilling over your back. You try to hide your disappointment.

He lays beside you for a minute, you barely reach your hand up from the bedsheets to brush against his bicep. He studies your face and pants through a slack jaw. He’s scruffy and broad and — perfect.

Your gaze flick to his mouth, then his eyes. You silently realize he never kissed you.

“Gonna get me killed,” he whispers. It’s almost weirdly affectionate in a way only Joel Miller could say. Still stuck in a limbo between pleasure and reality. You smile, softly.

He climbs off you, and slinks to the bathroom. You wait with baited breath until you hear the water run. He emerges with a soft looking towel, damp with water, clinging to his fingers. You watch him and shiver when the towel touches your back.

“Okay?” he whispers when you sit up and turn to look at him.

“Yeah, okay.”

It feels like something is supposed to happen now. You’re not used to this. Everything slowly comes back as the pleasure ebbs and you blink back to reality. You open your mouth, then close it. He does the same.

You can hear Sarah’s door open and you both freeze. His brown eyes search yours through a furrowed brow. Your heart goes back into normal rhythm when you hear the bathroom door shut. Then nothing.

He snags a new shirt from his dresser and tugs it over your body.

The Texans.

“Cute,” you gesture to the shirt. It’s soft underneath your fingers, worn. A gentle kind of faded navy blue. Joel picks up your dress off the floor and folds it into your chest while scoffing.

“Shut up,” He shakes his head, but he can’t hide the smirk on his face. “Get outta here.”

It’s all oddly playful. Like you both can’t believe it and are giddy at that fact.

“Same time next week?”

Something deeper flicks across his gaze at the doorway. “Is that a promise?”

“You can’t answer a question with another question.”

You turn when you leave the doorway and settle into the hallway. He’s got his hand on the doorframe, leaning into it—towering over you and already burning something hot through you. Again.

“I just did,” he grumbles with a smug look, and then shuts the door.

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dilemmaontwolegs · 1 year

Note

Charles jealous and possessive, i love your writing! Smut please!

Expensive Affection || CL 16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x stripper!reader Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, oral, rough sex, choking, biting WC: 1.8k

F1 Masterlist

You weren’t even listening to the song as your body fell into the familiar routine and the metal of the pole warmed in your palm as you twirled around it. Cold hands reached from the bar stools lining the stage, their fingers damp from the condensation on the beer bottles they nursed. You plastered a fake smile on your ruby painted lips as they slipped cash into the flimsy thong and helped themself to a grope of your ass despite the keen eyes of the bouncers standing in the wings.

It galled you to dance for these men night after night but living in Monaco wasn’t cheap and it beat working minimum wage. There was one perk to working at the exclusive strip club and he was sitting in the shadows at the back, a bottle of Belvedere Vodka unopened on the table of the large booth he had to himself.

Charles never came with anyone, not like the other men who brought their friends or business partners, or the girlfriends their wives didn’t know about. He always came alone and he always left alone. But you made sure his time in the club was never lonely.

The song ended as your feet touched back down and you gathered the diamante bra that you had come off during the chorus along with the cash that littered the stage floor before blowing one final kiss to the top tippers and sashaying off so Roxy could take over. You didn’t even make it to the changing rooms behind the stage before a finger snapped your way and Dwight pointed to the dark corridor leading off from it.

“Room three,” he said as he tapped his watch. “One hour.”

You nodded and rushed into the changing room so you could toss the cash in your locker and change into the red lace babydoll Charles loved so much. With a quick check in the mirror, you reapplied the lipstick that matched the outfit and swapped the thigh high boots for the pair of Louboutins he had gifted you.

The man had an obsession with red.

Charles was already in the room when you closed the door behind you and you waited for the blinking red light in the corner of the room to stop before either of you spoke. The cameras were supposed to record every second of the private dances but Charles paid enough to ensure his privacy was kept exactly that, private.

You drank in the sight of him, lounging comfortably on the velvet chaise with a crystal tumbler of vodka dangling from his fingers as he swirled the clear liquid around. At some point between leaving the mainstage and arriving here he had tugged his tie from his collar and now the top two buttons were open, teasing you to reach forward and bare even more of his skin.

“You’ve been busy,” you said as you poured yourself a drink and watched him over the rim of the glass. “I was starting to think you weren’t coming back.”

He curled a finger and you stepped closer as he beckoned you to take a seat on his lap. “If that were true, you wouldn’t still have this waiting in your closet for me.” His fingertips teased across the hem of the babydoll across your thighs as his lips whispered the words across your collar before he kissed your racing pulse.

“It was wishful thinking,” you purred as your fingers pulled his shirt from where it tucked into his suit pants. “I missed you.”

“Did you?” He took a deep breath in as he took your glass away, reaching over to place it with his on the table. When he turned back you caught the way his eyes narrowed and he stood up abruptly, turning and caging you beneath him. “It didn’t look that way when you were shaking your ass for those guys out there.”

You bit your lip to stifle your laugh but the corners of your lips still curled up in amusement as he pressed his in a tight line.

“Something funny?” he dared as he traced a thumb over your ruby lips before his hand trailed down the column of your throat.

The weight of his body pressed against you and your lips parted with a gasp when the cold metal of his belt buckle touched your clit through the thin lace. “Yes…” you answered as you reached between your bodies and began unbuttoning his shirt. “It’s hilarious actually. I couldn’t give a shit about anyone out there. They can look all they like but there’s only one man who can have me.”

“I hate that they see what’s mine,” he growled before he crushed his lips to yours, his tongue dominating yours as his fingers tightened enough to remind you of their controlled strength. He bit your lip enough to draw a surprised yelp from your lungs before he tore the babydoll open and roughly palmed your breasts. “I hate that I have to share these with those fuckers.”

He pinched one nipple and rolled it between his fingers as his mouth sealed over the other, sucking it to a stiff peak before dropping to his knees on the plush carpet. “Who do you belong to?” he asked as he spread your legs and bit the soft skin at your inner thigh.

“Ah, Charles!” you cried out but the pain quickly turned to molten fire that ignited your core.

“That’s right,” he chuckled against your skin before licking your pussy through the lace that was already damp with your arousal. He hummed deeply as he tasted you before pushing the thong aside so he could devour you completely. “You belong to me.”

Charles’ nails left half moons in your skin as his fingers gripped your thighs and tugged you closer to push his tongue deeper inside you and your head fell back as you saw stars. His name filled the room but not a sound would be heard outside the thick walls so there was no holding back when he replaced his tongue with his fingers, curling them deep into your cunt while he lapped at your clit.

“Oh, Charles, right…there…” you moaned as you combed his hair back, your fingers clutching the soft strands to hold him right where he was as the tightening in your core erupted into ecstasy.

Your fingers released the hold on him but he wasn’t finished with you just yet as he added another finger and sucked your puffy clit until your legs trembled around him. You screamed with the rapid orgasm that chased the first and wet warmth gushed from you as his fingers found that perfect spot that left you helpless to the release.

“Fuck, you are perfect,” Charles stated proudly as he rose to his feet. His half unbuttoned shirt was damp from where you had squirted over him and he licked his fingers clean before snapping his belt off and shoving the trousers down his legs.

You wanted a taste of him when you saw the creamy beads of pre-cum that he smeared around his tip with his thumb before fisting his thick shaft and pumping it lazily. You were ready to beg for a taste until he erased your ability to think and speak when he slapped your overstimulated clit with his dick before spearing your cunt with a hard thrust.

“Oh, fuck you’re tight,” he moaned as your pussy stretched with a sweet burn.

Your nails dug into his ass, spurring him to move as he tried to be a gentleman and wait for you to adjust to his size. “Just fuck me already, Charles. Make me yours.”

He rose to the challenge, grabbing your knees and pushing them up to your chest so he had the perfect view of his cock disappearing inside you as he slowly rocked his hips. You knew he was teasing you, you knew he wanted to drive you wild. From the frustrated sound that came from deep in your belly he knew it was working.

“Touch yourself, bella. Touch yourself like you did while I was away.”

You reached between your legs and circled your clit as he started to move faster and he moaned as your pussy clenched in response. His bottom lip pinched between his teeth when you took his hand and brought it up to your throat where he didn’t need any more encouragement as he gently squeezed the sides.

“Harder,” you begged breathlessly.

He didn’t question you, he knew exactly what you could handle as his fingers tightened and his hips snapped forward until the sounds of your bodies colliding filled the room as loud as your moans.

Unintelligible words tumbled from your lips as lightning flashed across your vision and your clit throbbed beneath your fingers as you came again. Your walls clamped down on Charles and his hand slipped from your throat to your hips so his grip could leave bruises where he pulled you against his thrusts. His rhythm faltered and he buried himself as deep as possible with a shuddering breath and you felt his cock pulsing inside as he painted your walls with his release.

He collapsed breathless atop you and left delicate kisses across your shoulder that were a stark contrast to how rough he had been. Charles was complex that way, and more expressive than anyone you knew. There was no hiding with him, if he was upset he wasn’t afraid to show it, if he was jealous…or sated. He could express himself freely within these walls.

You lazily brushed his hair as he rested his head between the valley of your breasts and asked him about his time away. He huffed at the question and muttered that it wasn’t good before explaining how everything that could go wrong with his race did.

“I just wanted to come home,” he said as he peered up at you, “see your beautiful face.”

“I missed you too,” you admitted before sighing and pushing him back so you could sit up.

He moved off you, tucking himself back into his trousers before catching your hand as you stood up. “Where are you going?”

“You only paid for the hour,” you said as you forced your shaking legs to carry you to the door, his fingers slipping from yours. “I have to get back to work.”

“How much?” he asked as he reached into his jacket hanging over the back of the chaise and pulled out his phone.

Your hand froze on the door handle and you turned to him with a frown. “For what?”

“You.” He turned his screen to show his bank account, more zeros than you could comprehend in his balance. “How much for every hour?”

“Charles…”

“I’m done sharing you.” Two long strides brought him chest to chest with you and he pinched your chin to keep you from looking away as he shoved his phone into your hand. “You are mine, I don’t care what it costs. You belong to me.”

#charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smut #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 smut #formula 1 fanfic #formula one imagine

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bimbobaggins69 · 1 year

Text

Stripped

punk!steve x rockstar!eddie x stripper fem!reader

summary: the two men you crushed on in high school, find their way into your club. They’re shocked to see the pastors daughter, the cute shy little church mouse is now stripping, but that’s not who you are anymore. Both men who also crushed on you in high school are eager to see, just how much you’ve changed.

⚠️warning: SMUT 18+MDNI, in this au steve was also apart of the freaks of hawkins high, sorry no king steve here, mmf threesome, fingering (f receiving), p in v sex, p in a sex (female receiving), oral (m and f receiving), spit roast, double penetration, dirty talk, hair pulling, spanking, use of sir and master, Eddie and Steve kiss, squirting, cream pies.

A/N: god, this au really has me hot and bothered! (Please remember to tip your writers with a comment and reblog)

photo edits of Steve and Eddie: @eddiemunsons-missingnipple

It’s the busiest night of the week at foxy’s cabaret. The clubs pink and red lights accentuated your two piece red faux leather bikini, the bottoms were extra cheeky which only meant one thing; it was gonna be a good money night.

You didn’t go on for another hour, so you made your rounds scoping out possible customers that would like a private dance, you had already done three, all 60 minutes each. So you were ready to go on stage, make your money and go home.

These nights were mostly accompanied by older married men, looking to blow off steam from their wives. Most of them used you as a marriage counselor, spouting off terrible things about their spouses. It made you feel gross to have to listen to grown men, whine about how their wives are “always bitching” because they want their husbands to be home more, while they’re here getting a lap dance by you. But it was all part of the job and you’ve long learned how to de-compartmentalize it all. This was about money and nothing else.

Finally you’re called out on stage, you saunter on in your red pleasers that matched your two piece perfectly. You felt so hot tonight, and all eyes were on you, as you swung your hair and shook your ass on the pole.

Eddie had just gotten home from a big U.S. tour with corroded coffin. Him and his best friend Steve hadn’t seen each other in a year, so what better way for two friends to catch up then with some beers, hot chicks and tits. That being the exact thing Steve said to convince him to come out tonight. Eddie was kind of over the “hot chicks and tits” having seen too many to count at his shows and on the tour bus. That being said, he couldn’t turn down the chance to hang out and drink some beers with his best friend.

Eddie and Steve instantly felt out of place among all the older, rich, suit and tie assholes. They both wore band tees and vests, that show cased patches of their favorite bands. Not to mention the numerous amounts of tattoos they had; both had sleeves on each arm along with neck and face tattoos. They were definitely being thrown dirty looks by the older men, while the strippers were giving them both “fuck me eyes”. They were stopped by a few girls, to ask if they wanted private dances as they fan girled over Eddie Munson being in their club. The boys declined and Eddie kept the small talk to a minimum.

As they moved closer to the stage, your red bikini and shiny hair caught their attention. They both grabbed seats in the front row, eyes glued on your body. Steve couldn’t place it, but he had seen you somewhere. Eddie couldn’t even think as his eyes took in the sight of you, now with your legs wide open as your thighs shook and your pussy lips almost spilled out of the tiny g string.

Once you began crawling to the front of the stage, swinging you hair away from your face, Steve took you in, not your body, you. His eyes widened at the realization.

“Holy shit, dude,” he says, as he nudges Eddie’s arm with his elbow.

It took a second for the trance Eddie was under, while watching you to break.

“What, man?” Eddie says, eyes not leaving you as he leans in closer to Steve.

“That’s y/n, you remember y/n? From high school?” He says in disbelief

“No fucking way!” Eddie almost shouts

That catches your attention, you look over at them. Your eyes scanning over their tattoos, clothes and then finally taking in their faces. Your heart rate began to pick up.

Holy shit, that’s Eddie and Steve.

You hadn’t seen them since high school, you had been enamored with both of them. They were considered freaks for the way they dressed and their music taste but you didn’t give a shit. They were always nice to you and um, hello? They were hot as hell.

You bought weed from Eddie once when you were feeling particularly rebellious, you ended up smoking it in the back of his van with them, they were really sweet, and maybe a little flirty, but at that time you were so shy, you had absolutely no confidence to even bring yourself to flirt back. You were not the person you are now, that’s for sure.

Once your set is over, you walk off stage and decide “fuck it, you’re not that little shy church mouse you use to be in high school.” Yes, your father was a pastor, which made what you do for work all the more shocking.

“Eddie? Steve?” You say as you walk up behind them. They’re deep in conversation, leaning in to each other while they whisper, back and forth.

They immediately turn towards you, their cheeks look flushed and they almost look nervous.

“Y/n? Wow, how’ve you been?” Steve breaks the ice first. They stand up and each lean in for an awkward hug, almost like they didn’t want to accidentally touch your exposed skin.

“I’ve been good, how’ve you guys been?” You take in their faces better, now that they’re up close. You haven’t kept up with Eddie and his band much, mostly since you’re always busy working, but your club will occasionally play “Indiana’s very own corroded coffin” as your boss likes to calls them. The last time you officially seen them was at Charlottes grad party, and that was years ago. They’ve gotten even hotter since high school with all those tattoos, piercings and the facial hair. your eyes were shamelessly roaming their bodies.

“Actually would you guys like a private show? It would give us a chance to catch up?” You look from Eddie to Steve, silently hoping they’d take you up on the offer.

“Yeah, yes. Let’s do it.” Steve says

Eddie’s mouth still hangs open, he’s clearly in shock. You figure it’s because of your prude, church girl image you had in high school, being such a big jump from the girl now standing in front of him.

“Cool, follow me.” You lead them to the private rooms, that sit behind heavy red velvet curtains. Their eyes are glued to your ass in that little g string, they’re being hypnotized by the way it jiggles every time you take a step.

“Here we are.” You open the curtain and motion them inside.

The room is small, a black leather couch sits in the middle, along with a couple chairs, underneath lays a shag rug, while just above the couch holds a red neon sign that reads: “girls, girls, girls”

“You guys can take a seat, do you want anything? Bottled water or another beer?” You ask with a polite smile.

Both boys shake their heads no, but thank you for the offer. You decide to take up the seat in between them, it wasn’t very much space, leaving their legs to rub up against yours, but you had no complaints. Their rough jeans against your soft skin, shot a thrilling tingle straight to your core.

“So?” Eddie finally speaks, “how long have you been doing this?” His eyes begin to scan your face, admiring your soft, delicate features. Features he use to spend hours day dreaming, about. His eyes began to move down to your tits, he wanted to be a gentleman, but he didn’t exactly come here for that. So he decided to indulge.

“Oh, um. It’ll be a year next week, actually.”

They both nod their head, taking in your answer. It feels a little awkward, like theirs something they want to say or maybe ask, but then Eddie begins, again—

“Your dad still the pastor?” you could tell he wasn’t trying to make fun, just a curious question. One you get a lot, but more so in a mocking tone.

“Uh, yeah yeah, he is. But we don’t talk, for obvious reasons,” you say as you gesture to the room around you.

“Yeah, I could imagine. So, how does a good girl like you get mixed in with this?” Steve asks, partaking in the curiosity.

“Well, I had to get out of my parents house, ya know? I wanted to live my own life, so I ended up moving in with my roommate brandy, she had been doing this since she was eighteen, she offered to help me get the job. It’s fun, brought me out of my shell a lot, I’m not that little shy girl you remember.” You didn’t mean for the last line to come out so suggestive, but both Eddie and Steve’s eyebrows shot up, in intrigue.

Making Eddie lean into your ear and whisper, “put on a show for us then, baby.” The tone made you shiver with equal amounts, nervousness and excitement. You’ve grown accustomed to your job, rarely ever feeling nervous before a dance, but right now in this moment in front of Eddie and Steve, you felt that timid girl you once knew creep back into your consciousness.

You stand up, doing your best to push it all down. Slowly swaying your hips as gimme all your lovin’ by ZZ Top, plays in the background. You keep eye contact with each of the boys as you do your little routine. Their eyes roaming the expanse of your body, as they begin shifting in their seats, something most customers do when you know you’re doing a good job. The thought of making their cocks hard underneath their pants, gave you the burst of confidence you needed.

You straddle Eddie’s hips first, leaving him to tense in surprise, so you grab his hands that are folded across his chest and place them on your hips, bringing your glossy lips up to his ear, “you can touch me.” You whisper.

As soon as his hands find your skin, he begins rubbing over your hips and thighs, slowly moving down to your ass, taking two handfuls and squeezing before they’re moving back up to your hips. You look over at Steve who’s intently staring at you both, so you take it upon yourself to bring him closer. “Cmon, you can touch me too.” You say with a doe eyed smile. You grab his hand and place it just under Eddie’s.

“Oh yeah? You want both of us to touch you, princess?” Eddie continues to whisper to you. Smug smirk adorning his face as he looks over at his best friend, you couldn’t make out what they were trying to silently tell each other, but it made your stomach flutter. You were excited for this to go where it seemed to be going.

Steve swiftly lifts you by both thighs, placing you on his lap with ease. His hands roaming your body, as he leans in to whisper to you—

“Please tell us, you want this as bad as we do, baby?” Fuck, their voices alone were making you soak through your little panties.

“I-I do, I want you both. I have since that time I smoked weed with you and Eddie in the back of his van.” You giggle, making your hips jerk over Steve’s hard on. The friction made a whine slip out of your mouth.

The boys laughed at the memory, until they heard you, the whine caught their attention. Steve’s face switches to something more cocky

“Mmm, did that feel good, sweet girl?” He grabs your ass and rubs your core over his cock again, this time making you both moan out in tandem.

You bite your lip as you nod, while eddie scoots in closer to you both, he begins playing with your bikini. His calloused fingers rubbing over the swells of your breasts, hardening your nipples that lie under the red fabric. His fingers find the strings in the back, that are holding the bikini together.

“Can I take this off?” He asks softly

“Yes, please.” desperation has now taken over your voice

“Mm, and she still has her manners. Such a good girl.” The praise doing nothing to help the wetness pooling between your thighs.

Once he gets all the strings untied, he slowly lets it fall onto Steve’s lap. Your tits now on full display for them.

“Holy shit.” They say in unison. Eddie’s jaw clenches, while Steve groans. They each take one of your tits in their hand, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. Every little touch shooting straight to your core.

You’ve never done this before, you knew a lot of your co workers would give blow jobs or have quickie’s with their customer for extra cash, but that was never something you were comfortable with doing.

Yet, here you are, engaging in a threesome with two men you were obsessed with in high school, one who is now a big rockstar. The thought makes your head spin.

Steve grabs you by the back of your hair, pulling you out of your thoughts, as he interlocks his lips with yours, you allow his tongue entry while Eddie is moving his neck kisses down to your chest. He takes your nipple into his mouth and lightly sucks, gently teasing you. You whine into Steve’s mouth, breaking the kiss to look down at Eddie, his big brown eyes already looking up at you through his thick lashes. Your furrowed brows and pouty lips were almost enough to do him in, right then and there.

“So eager and impatient.” He growls as he slaps your ass, hard.

It makes you jerk in Steve’s lap, simultaneously moaning at the friction.

“Naughty girl, likes being spanked.” Steve says as he looks to Eddie, mischievous smirks taking over their once flushed faces.

“Now who would’ve guessed that?” Eddie says, making them both laugh. You feel like they’re laughing at you, but you’re too far gone to care.

Steve grabs your chin, turning your head back towards his and Eddie’s, smiles no longer on display, the air became thicker as you swallowed down the excessive saliva now coating your tongue. “You think you can take both of us at the same time, princess?” Your eyes widen at the thought of both of their cocks inside of you, it makes your stomach flip and you eagerly nod as if you’re a child being asked if you’d like some candy.

You’re by no means a virgin, you’ve had your share of one night stands and an occasional boyfriend here and there, but anal is still uncharted territory for you. You can’t lie that the prospect does excite you though, you would do just about anything they asked of you right now.

“Words, sweet girl. You need to use your words with sir and master.” Fuck

“Yes sir, yes master.” You said wantonly

“Good girl.” Eddie now had his hand wrapped around your neck, lightly squeezing

“This is what’s gonna happen.” Eddie starts “you’re going to lay down on this couch, while me and Steve get you ready for our cocks, how’s that sound, pretty baby?” His words are filthy, but his tone and smile are so soft, you could swear you were transported back to high school, they were making you fall in love all over again.

Love? No, no way. Don’t be crazy

“Yes, sir.” You nod, getting up from Steve’s lap

“Fuck, she’s so obedient.” Steve says to Eddie, like he’s enamored by you. Can’t believe you’re real.

They stand up, allowing you to lie down on the squeaky, old, black leather couch. As you lay, body flush against the cushions, you open your legs wide for the boys as they take in every curve, burning it into memory. Steve starts by taking off your stilettos, placing gentle kisses at the top of your foot, moving up to your calf and over your knee, stopping in the middle of your thigh, while Eddie palms himself through his jeans, admiring the scene in front of him.

Surprisingly, this is something Steve and Eddie talked about quit a few times in high school, they both wanted you. The time they smoked with you in the van, they were going to make a move but decided they didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, you were so shy and timid but Eddie couldn’t deny that little shy demeanor you had really got him going. They both thought you were beautiful, sweet and cute as fucking button.

They were disappointed after you all graduated and they still didn’t make their move, even at Charlottes grad party, but you had been on the arm of Chip Reynolds. Coincidentally, you also lost your virginity to him that night, after one too many shots.

“Can I take these off, baby?” Steve hooks his index fingers inside the red material of your g string, but looks up for your answer before he proceeds. You nod your head, while you bite down on your lip, granting him access by lifting your hips. The room around you feels hot, as you hear; looks that kill by Motley Crue booming through the club speakers.

Before Steve widens your legs, Eddie walks around you and Steve and takes a seat on the couch, by your feet. Not wanting to miss the view, they’ve been dreaming about for years.

“Open those pretty legs for us, baby.” Eddie says as his fingers walk up your leg, you gasp when you feel the spine tingling sensation shoot through you. You want to squeeze your legs together for some kind of relief of friction, but you know better. So instead you hike your legs up, like you’ve done so many nights before, for men who don’t truly see you, you’re a sex worker to them, someone there to appease their needs. You begin to wonder if that’s how Eddie and Steve see you now, but you can’t dwell on that thought.

You’re now bare and on full display for them, your juices creating a glistening coat on the outside of your well trimmed pussy. Steve and Eddie audibly groan at the sight, insecurity began creeping up as they gawked, but you didn’t know they were equally losing their restraint.

Steve’s the first to trail his hands towards your sex, slow and agonizing. The tips of his fingers barely grazing your skin, just enough to leave goosebumps in their wake. When he finally gets to where you’re dying to be touched, he starts by rubbing the tips of his fingers up and down your slit, he finds your clit and begins slowly drawing small circles. They take in every expression and whine you give them, eating it up like the only sustenance left on earth.

“That feels so good, Steve.” Your mouth falls open as the pressure of his fingers on your clit, pick up. Finally giving you the right amount of friction you’ve been begging for.

Eddie starts taking his cock out of the confines of his black jeans, the tightness being too much for him to handle. As you hear the zipper you lift your head up, not wanting to miss anything. Once you’re met with Eddie’s cock, your eyes widen and your jaw drops, it’s fucking beautiful —

“Well thank you, pretty girl.” Eddie snorts

Fuck, you’re so far gone, you thought you said that to yourself.

But it is, so beautiful. About seven and a half inches, thick and veiny, the spongy heads an angry throbbing red, precum beading at the tip.

“See, told you, you had a nice cock, Munson.” Steve says, before sending you a wink. That mischievous smile making its comeback. The insinuation making your pussy pulse, as more wetness continues to glaze your outer lips.

Eddies cheeks, blooming a pretty rosy pink at Steve’s words. You could tell he was uncomfortable diving in deeper to the depths of what was said, and you didn’t want to push it, no matter how curious they left you.

“Can I taste your pussy, baby?” Eddie now asks, leaning in closer to your thighs, while he continues stroking his heavy cock.

“Yes, master.” You say, trying not to sound as eager as you felt.

Steve stands up and begins fiddling with the button of his red and black plaid pants, riddled with different patches, some you’re able to make out: circle jerks, misfits, buzzcocks and minor threat to name a few. They look interesting, maybe you’ll remember to check their tapes out whenever you go to your local record store.

Your thoughts quickly being broken by Eddie’s tongue swiping over your clit, making you moan out a “oh my god!” In surprise

Steve’s cock springs out, and bobs in the air. A little bigger than Eddie’s but not by much, the tip matching his best friends; angry and red. They’re both fucking beautiful, and you want them inside you so bad.

Steve starts fisting his cock as he walks up towards your face, “Aw, no complement for my cock, baby?” Steve mockingly coos

“You’re both beautiful, you and your cocks. Want them so bad.” You moan, as your hips buck up towards Eddie’s tongue, which is now fucking your hole, before moving back up to circle your clit.

“Mmm, that’s better, sweet girl. Now open wide for me, kay?” Steve says as he begins tapping his cock against your lips. You open your mouth and stick your tongue out, Steve audibly growls at your obedience before he’s plunging it into your mouth, he grabs a fistful if your hair working you up and down on him, just the way he likes it. Meanwhile Eddie, takes it upon himself to insert two fingers into your wet weeping hole, making you moan around Steve, the vibrations making his cock twitch, deep in your throat.

Eddie’s tongue continues lapping up your juices as Steve is fucking your throat, the whole scene making euphoria pass over you, as if you were high off the best drug. Their cocks were your drug, and they were giving you the perfect high. Eddie’s fingers hit that spot inside of you, that always has you gushing. You scream out, as he’s relentlessly hitting it. Both boys, slowly becoming more and more aggressive. But you did not mind, in the slightest.

Your muscles start tensing and your legs start shaking, as your pussy spasms around two of Eddie’s heavily ringed fingers.

“Fuck, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight baby, I can’t wait to fuck you. Mmm, Cum for us, pretty girl.”

Eddie’s ministrations speed up, making your toes curl.

You release Steve’s cock with a pop, as you begin moaning and screaming.

“I’m cu-cumming, fuck don’t stop, master please!” Eddie’s fingers speed up, as wet squelching fills the room. You cum with a splash of wetness to Eddie’s chin and neck, making him growl.

“Fuck, you’re a squirter? Goddammit, you’re fucking perfect.” He’s so ready to be inside you, that he’s willing to spill all his dirty secrets and the feelings he’s harbored for you throughout the years.

Steve is on the other side losing his shit over the way you’re sucking his dick and the fact that you just squirted all over his best friends face. They needed to fuck you, want was out the window.

Eddie gets up from his laying position between your thighs, he brings the back of his hand to wipe the juices that he wasn’t able to lick away, while Steve pulls you off of his cock and back up onto your feet.

Steve sits down on the couch first, before his fingers are pressing into your hips and he’s guiding you to straddle his naked lap, having completely removed his clothes before sitting down. Once fully seated he takes his cock in his hand giving it a few strokes before he looks at you with eyes that could make you puddle right there on the floor.

“You ready, sweet thing?” He asks while he beams up at you, awaiting your answer but also admiring your beauty while trying not to blow his load at the fact that the girl he spent so much time admiring from a far when he was a teenager, is now seated on his lap, naked.

“Yes, sir. I’m ready.” Your words coming out so sugary sweet, making his head drop to the back of the couch, as he does his best to pull it together. He’s never had this problem before, you were completely ruining him, making him feel ways he hasn’t for any other girl.

He lifts his head back up, looking you in the eyes as he takes your chin between his fingers, his other hand still stroking himself. “You’re such a good fucking girl, you know that?” He says with a smirk

Eddie’s off to the side, watching the whole display closely. “She is such a good girl? Isn’t she Harrington? I think it’s time we reward her with both of our cocks. How does that sound, princess?” You moan, while your hips grind down on to Steve’s precum coated cock.

“Yes, please. I need sir and masters cock inside me.” If anyone from your congregation could see you now, they’d think you’d been possessed by some sort of sex demon, the way you were moaning, groaning and writhing about on top of Steve’s lap, you even felt like it in that moment.

Steve finally breeches your soaked hole, making him shudder beneath you. As you begin sinking down on to his cock, inch by delicious inch, Eddie comes and sits on the back of the couch where Steve’s head is resting, he’s stroking himself with the most devious smirk, pupils blown black from lust. If you were being possessed it would be Eddie’s doing.

“Get me nice and wet, baby. Need to be able to slip into your asshole with ease, okay? The sloppier the better.” He winks, while you quickly obey. Opening your mouth and allowing yourself to sink down on Eddie and Steve, simultaneously.

Steve grabs the globes of your ass and starts his own pace while helping you bounce on his aching cock. You’re gagging on Eddie, tears rolling down your cheeks as spit falls from your mouth and down onto the leather of the couch cushions. Both boys eyes are rolling back into their heads, they’re in fucking heaven. In that moment they both have the same thought— they never want to let you go.

Eddie pulls you off as he wipes up the remaining spit hanging from your chin, bringing it down to stroke his already glistening cock, and rubbing the wetness over his balls before he’s behind you, opening up your ass cheeks and using his spit to rub his middle finger over your puckered hole. “I’m gonna put my fingers in first and loosen you up, a’right?” You look back at him, eyes all doe like, lips swollen and wet from his cock. Fuck, you were a captivating portrait of beauty, if he’s ever seen one.

“Yes, master. Please,” broke him out of his thoughts as he breeched your virgin hole with the tip of his finger, making you groan in pain and pleasure. Finally, his finger is fully seated in you to the second knuckle, while Steve begins rubbing your clit as he still fucks into you, “you’re doing so good pretty baby, so good for us.” Steve whispers into your ear, as Eddie’s finger starts moving faster in and out, you can’t contain the screams that are falling from your mouth. Steve continues— “I know baby, I know. It’s a little uncomfortable at first, but I promise you, it’ll start to feel so fucking good, okay? You’re gonna love it by the time he’s done.” His words making you bounce back on his cock and Eddie’s finger. “That’s it, princess. Fuck my finger.” Eddie growls.

“I’m gonna put a second one in, okay?” Eddie says as he slips the second one in with the first, this time it goes in smoother, sinking to his tattooed knuckles. “Oh, fuck-” Steve cuts of your moans by bringing his lips to yours for a sloppy kiss, of tongues and spit, moaning into each others mouths as you get both your holes filled.

Once Eddie thinks your ready, he gets up from his kneeling position, holding out his hand under your chin as he demands you to spit, then doing the same to Steve. He rubs the mixed spit glob onto his cock for extra lube, he doesn’t want this to hurt you, he wants to make it as pleasurable as possible. Once it’s to his liking he lines his red tip up with your pink throbbing hole, he pushes in and fuck, it’s an indescribable feeling, but it’s so good.

“Oh, fuuuck!” Eddie groans, pushing even deeper inside you. “You’re so tight baby, fuck I’m not gonna last long, I’m just letting you both know that now.” He chuckles making you and Steve laugh, too. “I’m so close, been edging myself this whole time.” Steve says

Finally, Eddie is bottomed out inside of you, grabbing your hips but not moving until you give him the okay. “Just let me know when you’re ready, sweet girl.” — “I’m ready, please eddie, I’m ready.” He grabs a handful of your hair and yanks it back until you’re looking at him upside down. “It’s master, remember? I’ll let that one slide since you have two cocks inside you and you’re too fucked dumb, to think. But, next time I will punish you, do you understand?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, master. I’m sorry.” You want to cry, not for being reprimanded but from the sheer pleasure of it all. “That’s my good girl,” he says leaning down and pressing a sweet kiss to your forehead.

They both start pounding into you, it’s almost too much but you wouldn’t dare ask them to stop, not when the knot in your stomach is tightening and you can feel yourself reaching that ultimate high.

“Fuck, Steve I can feel your cock hitting mine.” Eddie growls, making Steve clench is jaw and throw his head back. “Mm, you like being able to feel my cock inside her, big boy?” Steve nods his head, while moaning out expletive after expletive.

Them talking dirty to each other while inside you, was about to throw you over the edge, along with their hands that wouldn’t stop rubbing and grabbing at your skin, taking handfuls of whatever they could.

You lean forward and put your head against Steve’s shoulder, while they continue to fuck you, the slight shift giving them better access to your holes, but also bringing Eddie and Steve’s faces closer together. Eddie smiles and winks at Steve as their cocks moved in and out in unison, meanwhile Steve grabs Eddie’s hair and smashes their lips together in a heated kiss. The smacking of their lips brings your attention back to them. It was so insanely hot, making you clench tightly around both boys, Steve pulls away first, “fuck, I think she likes that. You like watching me and Eddie kiss, angel?” Steve says in a mocking tone, all you can do is nod your head, as your high hits you like a ton of bricks.

“Oh my fuck, im cumming, holy shit.” You wail as you squirt all over Steve’s cock and lower stomach. Steve couldn’t hold it any longer, your moans and the splash he felt against his lower half, made him lose it. “I’m cumming, fuck where do I-” he says before you cut him off. “Inside, both of you, I want it inside please!” You whimper

Eddie takes your chin in his hand, turning your face towards his and kissing you deep and passionately as he follows right behind Steve, both boys empty themselves inside your tight, clenching holes. You continue milking them dry until Eddie pulls out slowly, followed shortly by Steve.

Eddie lifts you up and softly put you down so that you’re seated on the couch as he falls down on the cushion beside you.

“Wow.” You three said in unison, making you all laugh out hysterically.

Once the laughing stops, you’re all met with comfortable silence as the background noise from the club penetrates your ears, and you’re brought back to your surroundings.

Then the silence is broken as Steve asks, “So, what are you doing this weekend?”

Thank you for reading!

•taglist•

@somespicystuff @lil-quinnie @dorkmunson @muzic-1d-luva @mungr0vebby @lolilkkk @jellycolors @bibieddiesgf @kjaxm @eddie-steve1986 @its-sam-allgood @joeymahler @and-claudia @luv-flor7777 @50shadesofuncomfortable @shurixririshipper @kiwi-bitchez @animesnowstorm @whitemancumslut @munsonology @n0x-m0rtis @cleartragedyenthusiast @iiffee @ladyapplejackdnd @angelina16torres-blog @kylie-is-here @bebe0701 @heyshads @melodymunson @einniar @novasparksstar @ajkamins @actuallyspencerreid @lynnmcgrathh @smamxn1 @imaslutforcuddles @hellv1ra @justsheerfilth1 @anonymousstoryteller2000

@ilove-yourmoms-f33t @roxanamaier64 @daniellabrandt @thoughtsoftheantagonist @agalsmaraudersobsession @harrycanyonmoonn @steveharringtonswifey09 @ashdoctor @luna-munson83 @randodummy

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uchihaharlot · 4 months

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Master List

Uchiha Headcanons:

Which sex position to the boys bust fast (nsfw)

Sounds the Uchiha make during sex (nsfw)

Uchiha 3some feat. Shisui/Itachi/AFAB (nsfw)

Obito/Itachi Drabble to crush giving them a back rub (sfw)

Obito/Shisui reaction/with pregnant s/o (n/sfw — suggestive.)

Uchiha men fucking you raw for the first time (nsfw)

How Uchiha’s tolerate a tomboy girl (sfw/kinda cute, kinda lost my ability to write)

When you break an Uchiha’s heart (sfw but sad asf fuck)

Obito/Shisui when their s/o has a stripper pole (nsfw)

Uchiha with an artistic friend-s/o (sfw)

Obito/Itachi massage with happy endings (nsfw)

Shiita/ Itachi unfortunately falls victim to a lactation jutsu 🥴 (nsfw)

Uchiha’s against your killer breasts (nsfw)

Uchiha men and facial hair (sfw)

You watching Shisui plow Itachi (nsfw)

Baby trap Uchiha’s (nsfw)

Calling Obito/Itachi daddy (nsfw)

Holding their pp as they pee (nsfw)

Club night with the boys (sfw/mentions of cock)

Morning blowjobs 🥹🙏🏼 (nsfw)

Uchiha’s dealing with someone who self harms (nsfw)

What turns on an Uchiha? (nsfw)

Madara:

Dirty things Madara does to you (nsfw)

Obsessive/jealous Madara (nsfw)

Madara getting pussy whipped by a young girl (nsfw)

If Madara's lover was captured hc (sfw)

Wearing lingerie for Madara (nsfw)

Obito/Tobi:

General headcanons for Obito/Tobi(sfw)

Obito/Zetsu relationship headcanon(sfw)

Obito with a clingy s/o (n/sfw suggestive)

Obito kinda being a dom (nsfw)

Shisui:

Bird feeding Shisui his own cum(nsfw)

Shisui asking a stranger to dance(nsfw?— suggestive)

Shisui chasing a girl down (sfw)

Can Shisui suck himself off? Yes, absolutely! (nsfw)

Shisui CEO au/attempt (nsfw)

Origins of Shisui sucking his cock (nsfw)

Shisui sucking you off in the bathroom (nsfw)

Shisui messing with a cross dressed Itachi (nsfw-ish)

Shisui topped by a girl with more stamina (nsfw)

Shisui finger banging you on a stationary bike (nsfw)

Uchiha men discovering their wives masturbating in the onsen (nsfw)

Shisui on ‘sloppy seconds’ (nsfw)

Shisui having triplets (n/sfw)

Shisui's son asking for a puppy (nsfw)

Shisui explaining why he deserves credit for baby making (nsfw)

Itachi:

Light sex hc(nsfw)

S/o doing an erotic dance for Itachi (nsfw)

Squirting for the first time (nsfw)

Itachi returning home from a long mission (nsfw)

Sasuke:

Some random hc, mostly like a date night (n/sfw)

Personal drabbles:

Shisui fucking a civilian girl stupid (nsfw)

Shisui’s deplorable behavior with fem!cousin (nsfw)

Shisui lacing your drink with cum (nsfw)

Undesignated Shisui smut (nsfw)

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florafloof · 3 months

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Nothing quite like a nice little Saturday shopping trip because I was a trooper this week, and my man needs some new clothes for spring, but he's so hard to shop for sometimes and is not at all interested in current trends. Definitely hoping to get better at this.

#trophywife #trophy wives #second wives club #power dynamics

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bradshawssugarbaby · 4 months

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looking from a window above, it's like a story of love, can you hear me? came back only yesterday, i'm moving further away, want you near me

oneshots

Can’t Get Enough of You Baby ✿ -> You're trying to get ready for a night out with your friends, but Bradley gets distracted easily once he sees you. Same Time Tomorrow? ✿ -> Bradley comes home after training, only to find that you're both in need of a shower. Uptown Girl -> Bradley is in love with the admiral's daughter. He needs to win her heart the best way he knows how - serenading her with the help of his friends. Merry Christmas, Dad -> Bradley's step-daughter doesn't know what to get him for Christmas, until she comes up with the perfect idea. Don't Be a Tease ✿ -> It's a hot summer day in San Diego, and you and Bradley are struggling to stay cool. Things only heat up further when Bradley sees your solution to beating the heat. Neon Moon -> You're drowning your sorrows after calling off your engagement on Valentine's Day in a Mexican restaurant in San Diego. Alongside you, Bradley Bradshaw sits at the bar, going through a similar situation. Can’t Help Falling In Love -> When your newborn daughter can't sleep one night, Bradley knows just what to do. Remind Me ✿ -> Bradley Bradshaw is one hell of an aviator. He's one of the best at what he does. You only wish the same could be said of his performance as your husband. The Coronado Story -> Your marriage to Bradley was fraught with issues -- you married far too young to a man who was far too immature. Several years have passed, and now, you're engaged to the perfect gentleman. Everything is going wonderfully in the days leading up to your wedding - until Bradley reappears into your life. All-American Girl -> Bradley's every part the doting dad to your daughter Tatum, but after talking to some of the other wives on base in your mom's group, you're worried he may be hiding his true feelings about fatherhood. Easy Like Sunday Morning ✿ -> Lazy Sunday mornings are few and far between for you and Bradley. When they do happen, you make the best of them. Hurricane -> Bradley's regretted breaking off his relationship with you for months, but when he sees you walking into the country club after his round of golf, he knows he has to fix things.

Welcome Home, Rooster Bradshaw -> It's been a long six months away from home for Bradley, and you're going to give him the welcome you both deserve.

series

Angels Don't Always Have Wings ✿ - ongoing -> Bradley Bradshaw is a struggling first-baseman in the major leagues. He's had bad season after bad season, until he met you, his angel.

Making the Grade ✿ - ongoing -> Bradley returns to civilian life and starts his new mission - teaching second grade.

minors dni. | anything ✿ contains smut/sexual themes.

#bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x you #rooster bradshaw x reader

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yeoja-dream · 4 months

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Found/Fated/Forever

Part 1 Part 2

Pairing: BTS OT7 x Reader Genre: Fantasy, eventual smut, porn with plot, slow burn, hurt/comfort Characters: Supernatural!BTS, Vampire!Jungkook, Supernatural!Reader Content Warning: Y/N in danger Word Count: 3,100

“You want to WHAT?” You asked him, eyes wide,

“Lower your voice! Someone next to you is gonna hear you yelling like that and call the bouncer.” He hissed.

“Well I’m thinking that might be the right idea considering what the hell you just proposed to me.” you hissed back.

“It’s not that crazy!” He insisted. “I step out of line, you blast me with radiant damage as hard as you can and if you don’t outright kill me, you’ll take the wind out of my sails plenty long enough to get far away from me.”

You regarded him for a moment. “You JUST got through saying you had SIX mates. I know having two or three is rare, but you expect me to believe that you might have a SEVENTH mate and it might be me? We were vibing just now but I don’t know if we were vibing that hard.”

“I also told you it's the same with each of my mates, something tells me I need to be somewhere, and by a crazy coincidence, we meet.” He adds. “I will know right away!”

“Ugh!” You sighed, exasperated, resting your head in your hands. “You know 3 hours ago I walked into this club single, happy, looking to get drunk and have an easy fuck to forget a shitty day, and I’m walking out having saved a woman from a demon rapist, pissed off or turned on that demon rapist, and now I have a marriage proposal from the aether.”

“I can help with some of those issues, I think? You lost me there for a second I’m not going to lie to you.”

You didn’t reply.

“Look, I don’t want to pressure you. We had a great conversation over a strange and scary happenstance, and if you would rather go our separate ways as strangers having never learned the truth, then I respect that choice. Or the cheap fuck, if that option is still on the table.”

You smacked him for the later remark. You sat, contemplative, and as if sensing you needed space, Jungkook excused himself for a cigarette, leaving you alone with your watered-down whiskey and your thoughts.

I mean what are the chances right? He takes a little nibble, he spits it out, I take him back to mine, and we test out that vampiric stamina. It’s basically impossible that 1 person has 7 soul mates! You reasoned. On the other hand the one in a million, no billion, no TRILLION chances that you are this guy’s 7th sister wife what does that mean? Do I join his commune? They probably have a commune. Am I bonded to his other wives? Are they also vampires? I don’t think I have enough blood to go around. You rub your temples, frustration rising higher and higher in your body. I could also not choose. You reminded yourself. I could go home, forget this man, forget this night, and have everything go back to normal.

Interrupting your thought process, David approached you. “You look mighty stressed.”

“Yes!” You just about yelled at him. “Sorry, yes.” You said in a calmer tone.

“Bar’s chill for the minute, what's up?”

You obviously couldn’t tell him the truth, but what if you were vague? Vague was okay. “I was confronted with a life-altering choice, and I don’t know what to do.”

“Well, how do you usually make choices?” He asked, leaning back on the bar and crossing his arms.

“I don’t. I find that fate has a way of making decisions for me.”

“Well…” He shrugged, digging in his apron pocket. He slid forward a shiny, silver coin on the table. “You can have fate choose for you again.”

You looked at him, then the coin. It’s my best bet. You thought to yourself, sliding the coin off the bar and into your hand, feeling the weight of it. May this lead me to the path of my destiny you willed into the coin before giving it a toss.

The coin landed, and you understood what it was you had to do.

~~~~

You met Jungkook on the street, just as he put a cigarette out on the cold pavement.

“Hello,” he regarded you warmly.

“I’ve decided.” You tell him. “Strings of fate and all that horse shite. I will blast the shit out of you if you take more than I tell you.”

“You have my honor and my word.” He replied, punctuated with a dramatic bow.

“Remember, blasting! And not the fun kind!” You warned him again, finger pointed sternly.

“I would be disappointed in you if you gave me anything less.”

“Anywhere really. I mean somewhere a little private. Like I said I just need a sip and I will know.”

“Is my house okay? I mean you said you’d fuck me so I’d figure it was alright.” You asked, feeling shy suddenly.

“Oh yeah, that’s fine!” Jungkook said. “I mean I was joking about the fuck thing I mean I just said it because you said it!”

You looked at him with a strange expression.

“Not that I wouldn’t! You are extremely attractive! If you wanted to I would definitely be down don’t get me wrong I just-” He cut himself off. “I am making this so much worse for myself, aren’t I?”

“Very much so.” You said as you opened your umbrella and stepped out from under the awning. “Shut up and let’s go before I change my mind. The Uber will be here in a minute.”

~~~~~

You lived in a one-bedroom place in a modest part of town, inside an apartment block that never seemed to be quiet, with the exception of this moment. Jungkook sat politely at your small kitchen table, you stood and leaned against a kitchen counter, the silence hanging between the two of you only interrupted by the sound of the rain hammering at the window, and the kettle steadily coming to a boil. You regarded him again for a moment, before turning to your cabinets and pulling out two mismatched mugs.

“The tea will be done in a minute.” You said, ripping open the tea bags, setting one in each cup. A few more minutes of silence passed before Jungkook stood suddenly.

“I’ve never done this before,” He blurted.

You take a moment to process what it is he could mean by that. He’s mated so he’s certainly not a virgin, seems to be over a hundred so it’s not his first time drinking blood you thought, before your mind wanders further. I did not just invite this man into my home to kill me. Tell me I did not invite this man into my home to murder me. God DAMN it, I fell for his stupid necklace and that incubus is probably waiting for his signal nearby.

“I suggest you explain yourself quickly and clearly, because it is sounding to me like what you’ve never done is have your ass blasted as hard as I am about to.” You said, turning around slowly, eyes locked on him. No funny business dude.

“I wasn’t completely truthful with you before. A lie by omission I guess which doesn’t trip up the necklace but I am going to stop rambling because you seem really justifiably mad.” He said putting his hands up. You took a step closer, energy beginning to crackle at your palms.

“Every single time I met my mates, I was called to meet them by happenstance. That is true. But every single time they knew, or guessed we might be mates before I did. So I have never personally tested the whole “someone else’s blood or energy should be poison to me” theory.”

“So you have no idea if this is even going to work!?” You yelled at him, palms crackling further. “So I’ve just invited you into my home so you can what, make a snack out of me?”

“I know it works!” Jungkook countered, taking a step back as if almost cowering.

“How?!” You demanded, lowering your magic a bit. You weren’t going to kill him, not yet anyway.

“30 years ago!” Jungkook blurted nervously. “One of my hyungs, we got into a huge fight and he ran away for a few months. He subsists on energy, and when he tried to take from people that he wasn’t mated to, it poisoned him. Badley. He was starving and as close to death when we finally found him.”

You look at his necklace and wait. No glow. So he was telling the truth. You lowered your guard completely.

“Jesus Christ dude you can’t phrase it that way! I thought you were going to say “I’ve never done this before, never murdered!” and then jumped me with that incubus freak.”

“No, you are right about that and I am really sorry.” He took a step back toward you, sitting back at the table.

“If you know it works,” You began, pouring the now boiling water into each prepared mug. “You didn’t have to tell me you’d never tried it personally.” You said, placing each up on the table and joining him at the opposite seat. “It has no bearing on the outcome for you, so why did you feel the need to tell me?”

“Ah well,” he began, stirring a scoop of sugar into his tea idly. “I’m a stranger, asking you to make a big leap of faith that sure, benefits you, but also benefits me. I couldn’t sit right with knowing you didn’t have every piece of information I could offer you.”

“I… appreciate that.” You remarked, dumping 3 ice cubes into your tea. “I don’t like to wait for it to cool,” you admitted, somewhat sheepishly.

“No, I don’t get the impression you do like to wait for much,” Jungkook replied, offering his cup to cheers with yours. You clink mugs and drink your tea in comfortable silence.

~~~~~

“So how is this done usually?” You asked him, standing face to face in your combined living room and bedroom area.

“Truthfully?” He asked you.

“Truthfully.” You confirmed.

“My kind typically have been the stalk you, grab you and lure you into a dark alleyway and drain you of all your blood or charm you with magic and charisma and lure you to a place where we do the same thing, sort of people.”

“I am confirming that that is not what we are trying to accomplish?” You half-jokingly asked.

“That is not what we are trying to accomplish.” He confirmed. “I want you to be comfortable. However, wherever would be the most comfortable for you is where I want to do it.”

“Um, okay.” You looked around. “I guess for me that would be my bed, that isn’t weird right?”

“Not at all,” He confirmed, allowing you to lead the way.

“But-” You stopped halfway before getting onto your bed. “It’s just my duvet is white, maybe I should put down a towel? In case things get messy.”

He scoffed at that. “I am not such a pedestrian, I reckon I have been drinking blood since you were born.”

“Are you sure about that?” You looked him up and down. Vampires didn’t age, sure, but surely he couldn’t be THAT much older than you, right?

“If I get so much as a drop on your duvet, I will replace it with any duvet of your choice.” He said, placing his hand on his heart.

“It doesn’t mean that much when you place your hand over an undead heart.” You said knocking his hand off his own chest. “But you’re not glowing, so I will take your word for it.” You said, sitting down. “Come, sit.” You invited him with a pat on the bed. He obliged.

“Hey,” You began, after letting a few beats of silence pass. “Do you think we could just lay side by side for a few minutes?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” He said, following your lead and sliding himself up the bed, laying comfortably on one side, you on the other.

A long silence hung in the air. “I fuck strangers and this is somehow the most intimate I’ve been with one ever.” You remarked sarcastically. Jungkook chuckled lightly in response,

“Me too.”

More silence hung, heavy in the room. You laid back, eyes boring holes into the ceiling. He too laid, unmoving, this is all on your terms he was communicating. You shut your eyes.

“What does it feel like?” You whisper.

“The bite, or the connection?”

“Both”

“The bite hurts for a second, but it goes away pretty fast. Vampire venom has powerful numbing properties. Some people even feel peace or euphoria, it's supposed to keep you from running from us once we have you.” He paused before continuing. “The connection is, overwhelming, in a word. Everything in your body turns up to 11, you become very magically charged, emotionally charged, physically charged and, uh, sexually…” He cleared his throat. “Charged.” He finished.

You sat in silence, digesting that information. You roll over on your side, facing him, he mirrors you.

You spent a few more minutes, studying his face in earnest. At this proximity, there was a boyishness quality you didn’t notice from far away. It was cute, even, bunny-like, and as you stared at him, you searched your mind, your heart, your soul, desperately looking for recognition, the easy way out, one last chance to avoid the leap of faith.

“What if I am mated to you?” You whisper

“We will figure it out.”

“How?”

“Do you trust me?”

“I don’t know.”

“Before we begin, I told you before you might lose some of your sense once we begin. Where is a line too far? Where should I stop you? Where should I stop me?”

“The troubled, sarcastic, sad part of me knows I can’t trust anyone.” You said, raising your hand to cup his cheek. “But something deep inside of me is telling me that you are truly good people. And for once, I am not going to push this one away.” You whispered, voice wavering. “Just, don’t hurt me, okay?”

He didn’t reply, but he held your gaze.

“Jungkook?” You ask softly.

“Hm?”

“Would you kiss me please?”

He then scooted closer to you and mirroring the motion you did before, he raised a hand, cupped your face gently, and placed a single, lingering kiss on your lips. He pulled away slightly, but a centimeter, I’m ready, but only when you are, he communicated to you. You closed the gap this time, I’m ready.

The kiss started off slow, chaste, even as two bodies, two energies tentatively explored the other in the more intimate environment. Jungkook was a good kisser, you decided, firm, but not too pushy. He allowed you to set the pace, the intensity, but what you gave he took readily. You parted your lips to him, and he took them greedily, using his free hand to hook around your back and drag you across the bed and completely flush with his body. You found your arm folded into his chest, the building intensity causing you to grip the fabric. You kissed greedily now, hungrily, like lovers long since reunited. It felt good, it felt right, you also decided. Kissing him was like the gentle respect and deep intimacy shared between two people who had loved each other for a long, long time. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt it, and you wanted more.

Your arms were at a disadvantage, pinned against his muscular chest, but you used the position to pull yourself closer and closer still. You needed more of him. You wanted more of him.

“Jungkook…” you whispered against his lips, a plea.

“I know, God I want you too.” He whispered back his arm like an iron bar across your lower back holding you in place. “But we have to do this first, sex makes everything so messy and confusing.” He broke away from your lips, kissing up your jaw bone stopping at your ear. “I’m gonna do it now, okay?” He whispered.

“Okay.” You confirmed. You found yourself then, in a swift move on your back with him straddled across your waist. From this angle, his baggy pants tented visibly over his crotch, the sight of which alone wound your core up so tight, you wondered if you’d cum immediately when he slips it in. He didn’t give you long to appreciate the view, as he leaned over you, face to face, and continued to kiss you. Your tongues didn’t battle but danced in harmony, and as you felt your hips rise to grind against the hardness so close to where you needed it, he broke away from your lips again, panting, he again peppered kisses up your jawline, but then down your neck this time gently sucking and licking on his way down, leaving you breathless. He settled on the spot but gave the skin special attention, the sensation of which had you sighing and running your fingers through his hair.

When he was finally satisfied, he wasted no further time and sank his teeth in, the sensation of which made you yelp in pain. He didn’t lie about the pain. After a brief pause, you felt the sensation of him drinking you in. He swallowed once, came up for a breath, and in that moment, from head to toe, it was like you had both been struck by lightning.

Overwhelming wasn’t the right word for it. Euphoric. Pure energy crackled and popped at your skin, literal sparks flying off at the points your skin connected. It was painful, you thought, but everything felt so amazing it faded into the background. Joy, pure joy radiated through your body. In fact, you can’t recall a time when you had ever felt this light-hearted and happy.

In the same moment, as euphoria washed over you, Jungkook’s demeanor changed and with a visceral, animalistic grunt, he dove back in sucking at your neck. The sensation was divine.

“More, more” You found yourself begging again and again. He was like an immovable object in his current positioning, but you allowed yourself the luxury with your now-free hands to slip under his baggy shirt, relishing in the corded muscle of his back and biceps.

The more he drank, the closer it seemed you got to the edge of something great. As something darker and harder to control overcame Jungkook, he didn’t notice when your enthusiastic pleas for more turned into incoherent babbling, and only when he had his fill, and the dark that consumed him receded, did he finally realize that you had fallen silent for quite some time.

He pulled away from your neck and examined your body in horror. Limp, and unmistakably ashen. You looked like a corpse.

“Y/N,” He said, panic in his voice, shaking your shoulder. “Y/N!” he said louder now, yelling and shaking you as violently as he dared.

Fuck.

-----------------------------------------------------------

I told you guys one after the other! Like I said in the last post, I'm working on intertwined, that update might go up today or tomorrow, depending on what I'm feeling, I only promised this post! I also mentioned before that I will update the tags once I reveal which bts member is what/ what Y/N is but try to guess below! You might be right~

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applejuicefruit · 1 year

Note

you’re the best writing angst so i was wondering if i could request some angst with kylian where he cheats and she finds out please? no happy ending please?

writing this made me cry also i am sure kylian would not be like this in real life so this is all fictional haha

thank you for requesting this i hope you like it <3

kylian mbappe x reader

Was she worth it?

Twitter just fucked up your relationship.

You wished you weren’t so bored to go and spend hours and hours on Twitter but here you were, with your phone in one hand and a glass of wine in the other. You saw Kylian’s name trending on Twitter so you decided to check it out, you thought that maybe he was trending because of the upcoming game PSG had that week but nothing could have prepared you for what you were seeing.

Kylian, hand in hand with his best friend in one picture. Holding her waist in an other picture. Her kissing him on the cheek in the next picture. Kylian kissing her on the lips in the last picture. You knew he was having a “PSG dinner” but apparently he was at some party Neymar threw in one of the most exclusive clubs in Paris.

Those pictures went worldwide in a second.

“Kylian cheating on y/n is the last thing I needed to see” one of Kylian’s fan pages tweeted. You were glad that most of his fans were standing by your side, knowing that Kylian was madly in love with you and felt betrayed by this behaviour.

“What is they broke up and he’s just having fun?” someone else tweeted. How could you have break up when he posted a picture of the two of you together two days ago?

“I’m a daughter of divorced parents” someone else joked, you laughed a bit through tears knowing that it’s a typical fangirl thing to say. You said that too when Taylor Swift and Tom Hiddleston broke up so you couldn’t blame them.

“Finally he found someone prettier” someone said. That made you hurt. Millions of thoughts started running into your mind.

The worst part was probably that Neymar, one of your best friends was the one who threw the party and didn’t even invite you, probably knowing that Kylian was cheating on you. Everyone from the team was there. All of your friends and their wives and girlfriends, when Kylian only said it was a business dinner and you didn’t have to go because it would have been boring, instead he was partying and cheating on you. And everyone knew and said nothing.

You couldn’t explain what you were feeling. You were feeling humiliated, embarrassed, betrayed by the people you thought were your friends, sad, angry, disappointed and heart broken. A mix of everything that didn’t go well with the wine you were drinking.

You saw people tagging you on Instagram and decided to open it, it couldn’t have been worse that Twitter you thought. It was so wrong.

Neymar posted a few stories where everyone was having fun, drinking and dancing. Your best friend posted a video of Kylian and whoever that girl was who was sat on his lap while they were hugging. Your best friend. The man who threatened Kylian once you started dating. He posted a story where Kylian, that girl, Achraf and Hiba were there all laughing and having fun. Your two other friends. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing, feeling betrayed by them and Kylian.

You knew everyone was drunk and that Neymar would have regretted posting those pictures the next day but it was too late. You saw the pictures, the whole world saw the pictures.

You put your Instagram private, unfollowing everyone who was there at the party and blocking them, including Kylian too.

You were so tired you went straight to bed and cried yourself to sleep.

Kylian got home around 3 am, drunk but not too drunk to know what happened that night. He knew he fucked up bad. Neymar started feeling guilty too he tried to reach your DMs but couldn’t find nothing on you, seeing you blocked him.

“She blocked me” he texted to Kylian who left him on read. Kylian immediately checked his insta but he couldn’t found you either, meaning you saw the pictures and the videos. He fucked up really bad.

He decided to sleep in the guest bedroom knowing you probably wouldn’t want to see him that night.

He woke up before you, feeling a little hungover but more worried about how his relationship might turn. He made some breakfast for the two of you and waited for you to wake up.

You didn’t even know that Kylian was back home so you simply got out of your bedroom and went straight to the kitchen, only to find Kylian sat at the table with a guilty look on his face.

Good. That’s how you wanted him to feel. Guilty. Humiliated. Alone. As you felt last night.

“Mon amour can we talk please?” he asked you but you immediately corrected him

“Y/n. Not mon amour, just y/n” you said with a hard look on your face. You had no more tears after last night. Sadness ran so madness and anger could walk. You thought about what to do all night and the answer was easy, breaking up with him in the most cruel way. You never felt so sad and humiliated like last night so it was only fair that he felt the same way.

“Baby please…” he said standing up from the chair and taking a few steps towards you but you backed off

“Y/n” you repeated

“I’m so sorry, I swear…” he said, a few tears falling from his eyes

“About what? Cheating? Lying? Humiliating me? Be more specific Mbappè” you said calling him by last name

“For everything…I wish I could say I was just drunk but I wasn’t, I just…I have no excuses but it wasn’t my intention to cheat on you” he said but you couldn’t help but laugh

“Are you even listening to yourself Kylian? First you lie to me telling me you have a business meeting, then I find out that you are with Neymar, my best friend who threw a party and didn’t even invite me, and for last I see pictures and videos of you cheating on me with I don’t know who, while laughing and having fun and all you can say is sorry?” you said, your hard look never leaving your face, you didn’t want to show your weakness because you knew that if you started crying you would forgive him “Do you know how I felt? When everyone I knew were having fun knowing that you cheated? I felt so fucking humiliated and sad and mad and all I wanted to do was never seeing you again, something that I’m going to do soon because you’ll never see me again Kylian” you said, your look never leaving his face

“What-what are you talking about?” he asked, his voice cracking a bit while tears fell from his face

“That it’s over. We’re done. You’re dead to me” you said taking off the promise ring he got you for your last birthday. A promise to love you that he couldn’t keep.

“No-no this isn’t real…I made a mistake I know, she doesn’t mean nothing to me, I need you here you-you can’t do this” he said fully crying. You’ve never seen Kylian crying so much and a part of you felt bad, the other part was proud of you for standing against him.

“I already did it. I’ll be back when you’re at practice so I can pack and leave…I don’t want to see you ever again, I only hope she was worth it” you said leaving your apartment, you didn’t care if you were wearing only your pajamas, you needed to get away from that house as soon as possible.

You reached for your car and once you were inside you let all of your tears fall. Sobs hurting your chest, your breathing fast and heavy. You started driving, you had no idea of where to go. When something bad happened and Kylian wasn’t there you would usually call Neymar but you couldn’t face him at the moment. But in the same time you were thinking about Neymar he popped up in the home of your phone, trying to call you.

You answered, ready to end him as you just did with Kylian.

“Y/n honey where are you? Kylian told me everything, are you safe? Are you driving?” he asked through the phone

“So now you care?” you asked, your voice breaking a little

“What you mean? Of course I care about you…” he said back

“Oh cut the bullshit! Did you have fun last night?” you sarcastically asked him

“Y/n listen to me…” he tried to speak but you stopped him

“No you listen to me. You were my best friend. Were because you’re a total stranger now to me. You had the nerve to post about Kylian and his new chick on your stories and now you’re asking me if I’m okay? Of course not! Kylian’s dead to me, I don’t want to ever see him again, he broke all of my trust and so did you…Ney I thought you really cared” you took a deep breath and continued talking “I don’t care how drunk you were, I don’t care honestly…just so you know, we’re done. You’re dead to me too, you and your little friend and all of the people who I thought were my friends. It’s over” you said before hanging up, not even giving him the chance to speak. He tried to call you back but you simply wouldn’t answer. You kept driving without nowhere to go. Almost an hour later you stopped in an empty parking lot, trying to recompose yourself and, with your spam account, checking instagram one last time to see if the news reached everyone. Apparently it did.

Kylian posted a picture of the teddy bear he gave you for your birthday and that you kept in the living room near the couch with a caption that said “a single mistake can turn your life upside down, i’ll regret it for the rest of my life but if you’re seeing this i wish you every good thing, you’re too pure for this world, love you forever, kylian”.

You sobbed a little but it was time for you to move one. You couldn’t break down now, everyone betrayed you, it was you and you only.

#kylian mbappe #kylianmbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian mbappe angst #kylian x reader #equipe de france #paris saint germain #psg #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian mbappe imagine #football fan #football imagine #football x reader #football blurb

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sunsetkerr · 9 months

Text

YOU'RE NOT YOURSELF | s.kerr

summary: you're not well, but you still go out to watch sam's game; but when she finds out you've come out when you're sick, she drops everything to take care of you [966 words]

pairing: fem!reader x sam kerr

notes: love some hurt/comfort x

LONDON WAS COLDER THAN YOU REMEMBER. the last time you were here, the winds weren’t this harsh- you could’ve sworn it. the winter months in england had returned with vengeance, and you were their newest victim.

the chelsea scarf you had wrapped around your neck wasn't enough to stop the cold air penetrating your skin, making you shiver. it was your first time back in london after being way in australia for the world cup, you missed its warm nights already.

you were sat in the family and friends section of chelsea, ready to watch sam play in a friendly; her first game back after missing the pre-season match against roma.

on the plane-ride home, you had began to feel lethargic. you chalked it up to being stuck on an aeroplane with sam for a whole day, but now that you had landed and had the day to get back into your routine, the feeling hadn't faded and you were feeling worse.

the chelsea and tottenham girls came out onto the pitch for the anthems before the game started and you swore you were going to get hypothermia from standing in the cold. the game went slower than any other game you had watched before. sam played well, she always did- but it was jessie flemming who put the game to rest with the first goal of the game in the eighty-seventh minute.

you and the other wives and girlfriends, headed down towards the changerooms to meet the girls. levi, millie’s partner shot you a concerned look before speaking.

“you all good, y/n?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. he had seen how much you had been struggling through the match. never up on your feet like you usually were or cheering as loud; and when he did talk to you during the match, he noticed how pale your skin had grown and how hoarse your voice was.

you blinked a few times before looking at levi. clearing your throat, you respond: “yeah, i’m fine”. a lie.

levi pat you on the back twice before chuckling softly, a tell-tale sign he knew you weren’t telling the truth. “yeah,” he nodded, “sure”.

you watched as the girls sung the club song in a circle and broke away from each other with loud cheers; each person off to find their family or friends. sam’s eyes scanned the changeroom before landing on you. you were leant against the wall right near the door, guro just having made her way over to say hello to you. sam rolled her eyes, she would get to you before sam had the chance to.

“you don’t sound well,” guro took in your appearance, “quite pale”.

you tried your best to brush her off, “i’m fine.” you smile was more tired than happy, sam noticed as she made her way over to you both.

“hey pretty lady,” sam pulled you in. as she went to kiss you, you turned your head slightly and kissed her cheek instead. sam was a little taken back, but let it go anyway- seeing how tired you looked. guro had left the two of you alone, knowing that sam would want to have you to herself. “you’re shivering,” sam chuckled, pulling you into her embrace, “it’s not that cold outside, drama queen”. you did your best to laugh at her joke without completely falling into her arms. having just played an entire ninty minutes, sam was toasty against your frosted skin.

“it’s freezing,” you quipped back at her.

“give me ten minutes to shower and we’ll leave, yeah?” she pulled away slightly to look at your face. you didn’t say anything in response, only nodded. sam paused for a second, taking in your demeanour. your face was flushed from the cold and your eyes were tired. “you okay?” she asked.

“i’m just tired,” you shrugged, clearing your throat again afterwards. sam continued to look at you, like she was trying to search for something wrong. she knew that jet-lag usually kicked your ass, but this felt different to her. she let out a quiet hum before kissing your forehead. “i’ll be quick, okay?” she raised her eyebrows.

“go,” you chuckled, “you stink”.

“when i smell like this, it means i’m paying our bills” sam gently pushed you away with a smile, walking towards the showers.

true to her word, sam took around ten minutes to shower and come back out to you; rugged up in her training hoodie and pants. hand in hand, you left the stadium and went back to your car. your nose was running from the walk back to the car park, the winds only getting worse as the night dwindled.

“you’re all sniffly, babe” sam squeezed your hand, looking over at you.

you laughed, sniffing again, “it’s the wind!” you tried to defend yourself, “it’s freezing here. i miss being home already, it’s too cold”.

“it’s not that cold, babe” sam chuckled, realising that your nose had gotten more red since she first saw you after the game. “you alright?” she asked you as you finally reached the car.

“yeah,” you sniffed, “just tired”. you were starting to sound worse and sam was noticing it.

“babe,” sam stopped you from walking to the drivers side of the car. “are you feeling okay? you don’t look good”.

you knew there was no point in lying to her anymore, sam wasn’t stupid; but you didn’t want her to worry. “i think i’m getting sick” you sigh.

“you think?” she smiles, looking at you with a smug grin. “i could’ve told you that,” she nodded.

“whatever,” you roll your eyes and walk to your side of the car. sam makes it a point to blast the heater once you’ve started the car. you hold your hands in front of your air vent for a moment before starting to drive home. sam plays some of her music on a low volume, not sure if you have a headache or not. she keeps her hand on your thigh as you drive back to her apartment, constantly sneaking you worried glances as you sniff and stifle coughs.

helen purrs as you put your bag down on the kitchen bench, you scratch her head with a soft smile. sam drops her bags in the entry way, a habit that you wish she didn’t have, before coming over behind you and wrapping her arms around your waist. she places a soft kiss on your cheek, resting her chin on your shoulder. “let’s go to bed,” she whispered. you lean your head against hers before letting out a deep sigh, nodding your head slowly.

you tell sam you wanna have a shower before bed. she can hear you coughing over the sound of the water hitting the tiled floor. while you’re gone, sam shuffles through her kitchen cabinets, trying to look for some medicine for you to take. she finds some nyquil from when she had the flu in december and takes it into your bedroom, ready to ambush you with it once you get out.

sam has the heater on in the bedroom for you when you finally make your way into your bedroom. you’re drying your hair, when sam looks up from her phone to see you.

“are you kidding?” she asks, quickly sititng up from her spot on the bed, “tell me you didn’t wash your hair”. you stop in your tracks, watching as sam stomps into the bathroom. “you can’t go to sleep with wet hair, y/n” her voice echoes from the ensuite into your bedroom, “you’ll get worse”. when she comes back, she has a hairdryer in her hand. shaking her head, sam plugs it in and sits you down at your vanity. you close your eyes and try not to fall asleep as sam dries your hair for you. the hot air sends your cold body into a euphoric state, as sam runs her fingers through your hair.

you sniff before taking a deep breath and letting out a sneeze into your elbow. sam whistles before chuckling, “bless you! that was a good one.” she smiles. you shake your head at her before letting her finish up.

once she was happy with how dry your hair was, she picked out some clothes for you to wear to bed. sam made you take your medicine before climbing into bed with you. she switched on the tv, putting on the west coast game she hadn’t had the chance to watch yet.

you rested your head on her chest, trying your best to stay awake with sam. you coughed into the sleeve of the hoodie sam had given you, the sounds coming from your chest made sam look down at you in worry. “i really don’t like the sound of that” she shook her head, eyebrows furrowed. she switched the tv off halfway through the second quarter, not bothering to watch the rest. you went to protest, knowing how much she had been wanting to watch this game. “come on, you need to go to sleep” she shuffled, getting comfy next to you.

“why’d you turn it off?” you whined.

“because you should be resting, not watching the eagles lose to the crows” she chuckled.

“i was resting,” you argued. sam didn’t bother arguing back, she knew that if she left it you would too. she pulled you into her arms and kissed your forehead, feeling for a fever.

“i’ll get you in to the doctor tomorrow,” sam told you, looking down at your relaxed frame. you had snuggled yourself into sam’s chest, trying to get as much warmth as you could.

“i don’t need to go to the doctor, sam” you smiled softly, your body too tired to laugh.

“fine,” she brought her hand to the back of your head, holding you. “i have recovery in the morning, but i’ll go pick up some stuff for you on my way back, okay?”

“okay,” you let out a deep breath, your nose too blocked to breathe any other way, “i love you,” you said.

sam smiled, still looking down at you, as you grew closer and closer to falling asleep. “i love you too,” she gave you one last kiss on your forehead before letting you doze off.

#one shots . * • .#sam kerr x reader #sam kerr imagine #sam kerr one shot #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso x reader

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imagination-mess · 6 months

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Reality Show: Pro Heroes Wives (Shinso Hitoshi Edition)

Reality Show Masterlist (All Editions)

There is a reality show where pro-heroes' wives are on television and paid to be there. It is filled with juicy gossip and pure drama. There are few wives in this second season who were kept out of the spotlight, which adds mystery and creates theories about who they were married to.

The same winners who were in the group that couldn’t be identified are back this season as a surprise challenge. Unlike last season, it wasn’t revealed at the very beginning of this reason which Pro Heroes wives would be featured.

There are only a few left without being matched, which were mostly underground heroes who people don’t typically pay attention to. Half of the cast already knew each other because their spouses had interacted on more than one occasion and were disqualified from participating in the weekend challenge of the show for those spouses. The others who did not know their spouses had to identify them, but the others couldn’t spill anything that would clue who their spouse was.

You, however, were making headlines and trending throughout social media for your wicked punch, knocking out Pro Hero [Blank] with a sharp uppercut punch after receiving a punch from them.

It was unexpected for the fans of the show to see another side of you since you always kept close to your friends and did the bare minimum to stay within the competition. You were barely involved in other people’s business. You are mostly found in the background, watching the drama unfold in front of your eyes.

The Pro Hero [Blank] had punched you in the face because you were ripping her apart from your words alone, causing her to have an emotional reaction. You were brutal with your words. It was also oblivious that you were purposely riling her up with the way you were openly mocking her. With a wicked grin, you intimidated her when the hero was trying to rip you apart while dodging her next attacks.

She was talking shit about your husband and claiming he shouldn’t even have licenses to be a pro-hero. She claims to have known him since middle school, and he will always remain a freak. Despite his being in the top 20, which was completely unintentional on his part,

Her friends that she made during her time on the show eventually join in attacking you verbally to only get their own medicine, taking them apart by their insecurities and such. It was clear her friends were ganging up on you while your friends were gone.

You were ripping them apart and letting it all out because you have seen over and over how these people have to make side comments and belittle the other spouses in the house, including your friends. It was just her comment on Shinsou that threw you over the edge.

Who would have known the way to trigger you was by badmouthing your husband?

You ripped the Pro Hero [Blank] a new one and got punched as a result, but it was oblivious that you wanted it to happen. You purposely provoked her even more and unintentionally knocked them out on live television because they were trying to play dirty by attacking from behind. It was out of reflex because of the years of training you have. Your body just reacted.

People do what they do best: search on the web to find out who you are. You aren’t as popular as the Pro Hero to only find out you are worth way more than the hero. You also have a history of being the bully toward other bullies throughout middle and high school. You were an absolute menace in your younger years. Your former classmates coming to the internet to tell stories about you include those who were with you in martial arts and boxing clubs.

There were thirst traps and edits created by fans circling the internet. The fans of the show couldn’t tell if it was a loyal friend's or spouse's reaction based on the stories circling the media.

At home, the hero couldn’t help the smile that climbed up his lips. You didn’t even know, but that specific hero is someone he would never forget since they spread rumors about him in his earlier years of being in school. Those rumors stuck with him up until middle school.

Karma is a bitch.

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bones4thecats · 6 months

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A/N: Because of my character limit, I have separated this request into three parts with the first one featuring; Buddha, Poseidon, and Shiva, the second featuring; Thor, Hades, and Heracles, and the final one focusing on Qin, because I wanted to try writing him without any character distraction. I hope you enjoy this piece @recordofragnarokfan!!

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🍭 He had always heard from many female gods across the many pantheons that you had a very alluring voice

🍭 Buddha had decided to watch one of your shows at a recently opened club in Valhalla, so he sat there, lollipop in mouth, as he waited for your name to pop up over the announcer

🍭 Once he heard it, he piped up and watched as the curtains open

🍭 When he saw you walk onto the stage singing, he smiled, a blush forming across his face

🍭 While Buddha was happy, he was glaring at others who tried touching you, as your dress highlighted your form perfectly

🍭 Afterwards, he walked up on stage with you and dragged you backstage as the others groaned as you left, and if they were loud enough, he’d yell;

“ If I hear so much as one more person groan, I will make sure your afterlife works you to another death. “

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🔱 He knew about your voice, it was one of the things that lured him in at the start

🔱 Poseidon heard from Aphrodite about a new club that had opened up nearby the oceans that he ruled over a few weeks beforehand, and he decided to appear at one of your performances, staying in the ocean

🔱 He didn’t want humans to be near him

🔱 When he heard your name get called, he opened his closed eyes and sat up, finally paying attention

🔱 Your husband glared at the men that tried throwing themselves at you, and it got him even more pissed when he heard someone yell something vulgar at you

🔱 He could tell you were getting uncomfortable when you stopped singing for a second, and that second, allowed him to grab the man and drag him away without anyone noticing

“ If I ever see you near them again, I will make sure you die slowly, mortal. Scram. “

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🪩 This god loved to go hear people sing and seeing people dancing, so him occupying some God-centered clubs around Valhalla wasn’t to odd

🪩 But when he heard from Parvati about your performance coming up that night, he smiled and laughed, signaling to the other two girls on where they were going to go

🪩 Shiva had three of his arms wrapped around his wives, sensing the pervertedness that filled the room you were performing in

🪩 He was worried beyond belief about you, but he also knew that you could handle yourself

🪩 The three girls chuckled as their husband’s eyes widened and his face turned red from seeing you in your dress

🪩 He definitely was focused on you, and Durga listened as people whispered, and yelled, many dirty things at you

“ How dare you talk about our wife like that, you vulgar stain!? “

🪩 Shiva and Parvati had to calm her down after the show so she didn’t attack someone as Kali held you, complimenting you on your performance

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sugawarassoulmate · 1 year

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someone else tries to get with them

feat loser!kuroo, enemies to lovers!kita, and toxic!oikawa

part 1

cw: fem!reader

loser!kuroo

kuroo's body tensed the second one of them came close to him. he always hates these events — spending hours fake laughing at awful jokes to get on the good side of investors. his only joy is when you tag along, keeping prying eyes at bay.

but kuroo's found himself cornered by three women, all the much-too-young wives of some of his colleagues who were all taken with the handsome ceo.

"this suit looks amazing on you," one of them said. kuroo wanted to tell her that his wife picked out his outfit but before he could answer, another chimed in. "you just fill it up so well, have you been working out?"

his eyes flick over across the room, where you're standing with a quirked brow. you've calmed down a lot since marriage and don't explode with anger every time another woman so much as breaths near kuroo anymore. instead, you took a sip from your wine glass and gave him a look that said, "figure it out."

"can we get you a drink?" one of the other women asks as kuroo feels another pulling on his bicep. did they not see the wedding band on his finger? did none of them notice him walking into the room with you on his arm?

he starts sweating, eyes darting back to you and then the women. kuroo's so used to you taking charge and staking your claim on him but he can't allow you to be disrespected like this.

as one of the women tries to pull him in again, kuroo fights out of her grasp. "i'm married!!!" he blurted out, startling not only the women but a few people that were nearby. embarrassed that he raised his voice, kuroo cleared his throat. "sorry for yelling but i don't think it's appropriate for us to talk like this. i love my wife very much. have a good night."

kuroo makes his way toward you, a smug grin on your face. "so, you into ugly girls or something?"

"baby, please," he whines.

enemies to lovers!kita

you may have found kita absolutely insufferable but most people found him a joy to be around. he was kind and respectful to others. the kind of person that helps others without asking or walks old ladies across the street. it seemed as though kita didn't have an unkind word to say about anyone, except for you.

because of his benevolence, most people wanted to be around him. girls threw themselves at him, knowing that he'd be the type to spoil his significant other. that wasn't the annoying part — because you definitely didn't care about some dumb bimbo trying to get his attention. it was the older women who tried to set kita up with their daughters that irked you the most.

"you know, i have a daughter your age that you'd just be perfect for," or "do you have a girlfriend? my niece could really use a sweet boy like you, can i give her your number?"

even after explaining that he was too focused on his studies and helping his grandma with the farm to even think about dating, these women wouldn't take no for an answer.

"can you tell whoever's blowing up your phone to cut the shit?" you complained, growing tired of the constant buzzing.

kita rolls his eyes at your foul language. he doesn't bother looking at his phone as the two of you lock up the club room for the night. "one of my grandma's friends gave my number to her daughter and she keeps tryin' to set up a date," he says, bored expression never leaving his face.

"you're that down bad that you need your grandma's buddies to get a date?" you scoffed, trying to hide the fact that it may bother you just a little bit that there are so many people trying to get kita's attention.

perceptive as ever, kita catches onto your catty attitude. "she probably won't stop until i say yes to a date," he says nonchalantly, walking back onto campus.

he's only getting a rise out of you. what little free time kita has left from all of his other responsibilities goes to you—both of you know it's true, there's no reason to argue. still, you'd just die if you couldn't make a comment at his expense. "i mean if, sure, you're into ugly girls. this girl can't get a date on her own?" you rambled, stomping beside kita as you head back to your apartment. "but don't let me stop you. i know how much you love doing charity work."

"i won't go if you don't want me to," kita hums, holding the door open for you (1. because he's a gentleman, 2. because he knows it pisses you off.)

"i don't care what you do," you said back to him in a similar mocking tone.

that weekend, though, kita is at your place, where he usually spends most of his weekends. "your date was that bad, huh?" you said as soon as you open the door for him.

"i told her it wouldn't work out and deleted her number," kita answers, carefully removing his shoes and placing them neatly by your door. "i only have time fer important things." he makes direct eye contact when he says it before brushing past you to head to your bedroom.

kita's words stump you for a second, trying to figure out what he meant but soon, his irritating voice comes back, scolding you to hurry back and any thought you had before is forgotten as an insult leaves your lips.

toxic!oikawa

you felt terrible for being late. punctuality was something you always prided yourself on but your boss seemed to think differently, keeping you in the office for hours.

normally, you'd suck it up and accept that you had a shit day at work but you and oikawa had a date planned — one that took ages for both of you to set up.

the image of oikawa sitting at the restaurant alone broke your heart, so you practically raced over there, barely having time to change out of your work clothes.

"i'm so sorry, babe. my boss is such a dick and then the trains were slow—" you rambled as soon as you sat down, immediately asking for your boyfriend's forgiveness

"hey, slow down! it's okay, honey," he said, pushing a glass of wine across the table for you. "i know you didn't mean to be late. you're here now, that's what matters. i already ordered for the two of us."

he had every right to lay into you tonight. this was the perfect opportunity for him to be at his most dramatic, to really make you feel guilty for being late but he acted with a maturity you weren't used to seeing.

"i still feel bad that you were sitting here all by yourself," you said, reaching over to hold his hand.

oikawa shrugged. "well, i wasn't totally alone. our waitress kept me company while i waited."

you hate to say that the second he said "waitress" the alarm bells started ringing in your head. a handsome, young man like oikawa sitting alone in a fancy restaurant is like food on a silver platter for some of these vultures.

and you could only imagine how charming he must have been when the waitress comforted him about being by himself—smiling at her jokes and staring up at her with those warm brown eyes of his, completely unaware of that she would take it as an invitation.

you tried to swallow the bitterness down, not wanting to put a sour note on the night. you opened your mouth to speak but a grating sound stopped you.

"ohhhh, how good of you to finally show," said the high-pitched voice, dripping with faux concern. "i was worried you might have stood this poor man up."

oikawa laughs at the unfunny joke, clearly finding all of this amusing and she practically sparkles at the slightest hint of his approval. "i don't know how you'd ever let him out of your sight. any girl would just love to snatch him right up,'

his eyes glance over at you, ready to see how you'll react. oikawa just loves it when you get territorial of him and even though you've gotten better over the years, there's still that part of you that's always ready to claw someone's eyes out for thinking they could stake their claim on him.

"you're right, any girl would. in fact, many have tried and they've all failed," you smiled up at her, gripping oikawa's hand harder so she would have to take notice of it. "now be a dear and have our food ready soon, okay? i want to spend some time with my boyfriend."

with her tail between her legs, the waitress scurries from the table, muttering something about the food. oikawa laughs again, pressing a quick kiss to your knuckles. "my mean baby, you know you don't have anything to worry about, yeah?"

of course, you knew. you wouldn't be with oikawa if you didn't trust him but any girl who had the slightest inkling that she could lead your man astray had to be humbled—and oikawa would be lying if he didn't enjoy the possessive look you get in your eye.

"let's enjoy our dinner, babe."

#haikyuu x reader #haikyu x reader #kuroo x reader #oikawa x reader #kita x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyu headcanons #loser!kuroo #enemies to lovers!kita #toxic!oikawa #🥀#🥀kuroo #🥀kita #🥀oikawa

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