#Philly Create | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thesecretestblogever · 1 month ago

Text

In Which Joe Learns How to Make a Girl Come

premise: you’re married to anthony stolarz and you both decide to help a guy out and teach him the ways of the female body

pairing: reader x anthony stolarz x joseph woll

w.c. : 8k

warnings: 18+ MDNI; oral (f and m receiving), threesome, unprotected sex (breeding! kink), size!kink, inexperienced!Joe, established relationship (marriage to Stolarz)

You’d been happily married to Anthony Stolarz for five years now. You dated for 4 years before that - meeting in Philly and falling in love quickly. You followed him from Edmonton, to Anaheim, to Florida, and now Toronto. It was exhausting to pick up and move so often, but you’d do anything for him and you knew he would do the same. Your relationship was rock solid, and there were a lot of reasons behind that.

He was one of the sweetest, kindest, and softest men you ever met, despite his size. He towered over you in a way that was almost comical. He was an incredible communicator and although he was often away from home or extremely busy with hockey, he always made sure you were taken care of, in more ways than one.

It wasn’t that you had an open relationship, but you were both experimental. Over the years you’d tried almost everything there was (within reason). If you found something you liked, it was added to the rotation, and if you didn’t, it was left behind, and there were many things you both liked. Through mutual agreement, neither of you ever slept with anyone without the other. Threesomes were a way you could both discover new kinks or interests while your significant other could still feel included and get off. Road Trips were hard if you weren’t traveling with him, but ultimately you only ever wanted each other and the idea of filling the gap with someone who didn’t know what either of you liked simply fell flat. You’d already tried that and neither of you were satisfied.

The other rule was no teammates allowed. Anthony wasn’t possessive or jealous, but he treasured you and knew how some hockey players could be. He didn’t want anyone to treat it as a cheap thrill or feel entitled to your body. There was also just potential for it to damage the team’s dynamic or create weird feelings and he took his job very seriously, so those worlds stayed separate.

Well�� until recently. There had been teammates you found handsome or alluring in the past, but never dwelled on those feelings. It wasn't worth it since nothing was ever going to come of it. Anthony knew how you felt anyway - you never chose to hide your attraction to any players. In the end, his feelings were never hurt. He knew you’d always return to him. He’d smugly smile at himself knowing that no one could make you come undone like he could. He knew all your ins and outs, a blessing that came from years of learning each other's bodies and what made you feel good. Similarly, he never had any emotional interest in the partners you brought into your room. What got him off was seeing you experience pleasure, even if it wasn’t his body giving it to you. He liked when someone was fucking you and your hazy eyes found his as he stroked himself.

Sure, there were a lot of other handsome players across the league, but none of them ever really fit the bill of what you were looking for. They were usually arrogant and bullheaded, which to be fair, was something that helped their game, but it didn’t appeal to you. That’s why, when after moving to Toronto, your eyes fell upon a certain goalie. Maybe you had a type after all.

Joseph Woll was the tall, slim and sweet player that you felt could potentially fill that roll. It took awhile for you to express your attraction to Anthony, because you were embarrassed. Up until this point, the firm boundary of no teammates had never been a problem, but you couldn’t deny that you really wanted Joe. Your husband had just chuckled upon your confession, your cheeks red and warm as you finally told him how you felt.

“That one would be a tough sell. I really don’t think Woller would be up for that,” he let you down gently. You couldn’t hide your disappointment, but moved on when he broke the news. The attraction was still there, and Anthony only ever laughed and rolled his eyes when you laughed too hard at Joe’s jokes or let your touch linger on his bicep for a few seconds too long.

Things changed one night when the guys went out for a drink after a hard fought win on home ice. The goalies had grown close over the season. Though he was new to the team, Anthony had more experience over multiple teams and years so he fell into a sort of mentorship role to Woll. They could relate on many things and they were grateful to have each other.

They sat at the bar and talk naturally turned towards their game and the tactics they liked to use. Now and then, other teammates would join their conversation, but at the moment, it was just them two. Eventually, Anthony decided to probe and steer their conversation towards a completely uncharted topic. He wanted to get a feel for the other man and see exactly where Woll drew the line in the sand.

“And your dating life?” He finished the whiskey in his glass and gestured at the bartender to bring them two more. Joe just scoffed and swirled the alcohol around his glass and watched as the ice cubes clinked against each other.

“What, are you trying to embarrass me or something?” He started warily. He wasn’t sure where Stolie was going with this. The man was already married, and he wondered if he was trying to set him up with one of their friends.

“No, man, I’m just asking. You’re a good guy. No luck out there?” Some players chose to focus on hockey completely. They viewed a relationship as a distraction- though that didn’t prevent them from often taking a girl home on the weekend for some stress relief. He was wondering where Joe stood on all of this.

“Not much luck. I feel like I don’t have enough time to start a relationship during the season, and I’ve only had a few hookups. And those… weren’t the best time for either of us, if I’m going to be brutally honest,” he said sheepishly. A light flush covered his cheeks and crept up his neck like he was embarrassed.

“No? You’re a handsome guy,” Anthony shrugged his shoulders.

“Yea, well, handsome only gets you so far when you have no idea what you’re doing. I cannot believe I’m telling you this right now,” he rubbed a hand across his face and wished he shut up minutes earlier. He would blame it on the alcohol in the morning.

This was the in that Anthony was looking for. He leaned in closer to Joe and lowered his voice so that no one else would overhear their conversation.

“Look, y/n and I have a unique situation when it comes to our sex life,” Anthony started.

“Y/n, as in your wife, Y/n?” Joe’s walls rose immediately as the skepticism filtered in. “Where is this going?”

“She’s into you and wanted to know if you’d join us for a night,” his eyes darted around the bar, and he was relieved that no one else seemed to be paying attention.

“But - you… you guys are married!” Joe’s mouth gaped open and closed like a freshly caught fish. It was endearing and Anthony could see what made you so interested.

“Listen, you can say no and we can forget this conversation ever happened. Usually, teammates are completely off limits, but she’s interested and you seem to be having some… trouble. We could help you gain some confidence. I don’t have to touch you at all. Whatever you’re comfortable with,” he finished. Now the ball was in Joe’s court. Anthony was actually surprised to see the other man consider the offer. Maybe it was the fresh win or the whiskey impairing his decision making, but he actually thought of saying yes.

“I-” his mouth felt dry.

“Don’t feel like you need to answer now. Think it over. You have my number,” he finished the last of his whiskey and paid for their drinks. He got up from his seat and clapped Joe on the shoulder before leaving.

It only took a few days for his phone to buzz and he shook his head, a smile growing across his face.

I’m in…

It took a few weeks to arrange things. It turned out to be the night after a bad loss. You would never tell Anthony, but those were always the best nights for you. The celebratory sex was good after a win, but there was something about the way your husband let go and took it out on you in the most delicious way after a loss. There was always a lot of weight on a goalies’ shoulders and they often took the brunt of criticism after a game. Now you would get to experience that times two. Joe had been in the net that night, and you were excited to take advantage of it.

You were ecstatic when you found out Joe had actually agreed. You’d been buzzing out of your skin since your husband showed you the text message. Planning took a little more effort and as every day passed, you were worried that he would back out, but here you were, finally sitting in your dimly lit bedroom with two beautiful men in front of you. Before anything began, it was important to discuss boundaries.

“We don’t do any hard BDSM, no piss or anything, and we check in with each other throughout the whole thing. And we use protection,” Anthony finished. You both sat on the edge of the bed, with you leaning into his side and stroking absentmindedly at his thick thighs that sat exposed from the shorts he wore. Joe sat across from both of you in a plush armchair. His eyes darted between you both and he swallowed thickly.

“Do you think… Maybe this time we can forgo the condoms?” You asked looking up at your husband through your eyelashes. “We’re all clean and I’ve been on birth control for years now.” It wasn’t a ridiculous request, but rather a rare one. Before you ever got serious with each other, you’d had a conversation and agreed that neither of you were interested in kids. Because of this, you were never really interested in Anthony coming in you. Sure, it happened now and then, but with him it was always more about painting your body with his release. But Joe was pretty and inexperienced, and you had a feeling it would tip him over the edge.

“Okay, no condoms then. As long as Joe is okay with that,” his warm hand drew circles on your lower back. Joe just nodded slowly, his eyes darting between the both of you.

“What do you like, Joey?” You asked, playing with the nickname. Joe, though there completely of his own accord and agreement, looked tense and nervous. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do. I just want to make you feel good…” You trailed off and rested a hand on his knee, squeezing the warm flesh there. He jumped slightly from your touch like he couldn’t believe where he was.

“I… don’t know. I’ve never really explored that kind of stuff,” he tried to think of anything to offer, but his mind was completely blank and thoughts were hard to come by.

“We’ll try some stuff… and we’ll keep checking in, okay?” You winked and your hand crept upwards. Joe may have been scared out of his wits, but that didn’t stop the obvious tent from showing in his sweatpants. It made your mouth water and you couldn’t wait to get your hands on him. He nodded slowly, his mouth hanging open. Anthony pulled you closer into his side and nuzzled into your neck, breathing the scent of you in and placing open mouth kisses along the hot skin. You tilted your head to allow him better access and reveled in the scratch of his beard across your skin.

“Joey can watch for a little bit - get used to things,” he mumbled into your skin. You hummed and your hand came to rest on Anthony's jaw and pull his mouth up to yours. It was like the sweetest release when his lips finally met yours. You never tired of his kisses and you melted into him, your legs coming up to drape over his lap. It started slow and sweet, his lips moving over yours almost lazily like you weren’t in any rush. It allowed you to peek your eyes open and look over to see Joe watching in complete awe. His eyes were wide and his pupils blown large at what was taking place in front of him.

Anthony pushed you until you were laid back across the mattress and shifted so he was now between your legs. His body almost completely covered yours. The kisses grew deeper, his tongue swirling in your mouth. You could feel his arousal against your thigh and you wanted to grind up against him, but didn’t want things to get out of hand too quickly.

You pulled back slowly from him and placed a few more light kisses on his lips and cheeks. You felt breathless already.

“Can I kiss Joe?” You asked. You knew his answer would obviously be yes, but it was a part of your shared routine to continuously ask for consent along the way, especially if someone else was involved.

“Of course, baby,” he pulled himself off of you. As he kneeled back in the bed, he stripped off his shirt which made you second guess pulling back from him. After all this time, you never tired of his body. Instead, you chose to trail one hand down his torso as you got up from the bed.

You sat on Joe’s lap, running your fingers through his hair to push it out of his face. He stared at you with his blue eyes that made your mind flicker back to your husband on the bed behind you.

“Is this okay?”

Joe just swallowed hard again, his eyes flickering down to your lips as he nodded.

“Words, baby,” your thumb ghosted over his bottom lip.

“It’s okay.”

Leaning in to connect your lips to his, the kiss started light, but there was a quiet desperation to the way Joe moved against you. He was unsure of himself and didn’t know what to do. His hands hovered over your waist, not sure where to land.

“You can touch me,” you said against his mouth as you broke between kisses to catch air. You took his wrists in your hands and planted them firmly on your waist. It provided stability and allowed you to take full advantage of being on his lap. This gave him a confidence boost and the kiss deepened. His hands held onto you, squeezing the soft skin on your hips and wandering down. You took the cue to shift on top of him so that your thighs rested on either side of his lap. He groped your ass as you pressed down on him, feeling the hardness there against your core. It elicited the first sound from him - just a small hum in the back of his throat but it was all you needed to continue your ministrations on top of him, swirling your hips in a figure eight and running your hands up his chest to tangle in his hair.

Another set of hands divided your attention as they ran over Joe’s and around to your front to knead at the supple mounds of your breasts over your bra. Anthony’s lips attached to your neck as he kneeled behind you. Even on his knees, he was equal height with you and his warm, bare chest pressed against your back. It was already overwhelming to have both of their hands on you and you craved to move forward. Your husband sucked on a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and bit softly at the skin before laving his tongue over the red spot. This earned him a soft whine that was swallowed by Joe. You felt hot and itchy, like you needed more.

You pulled back from Joe, admiring his red swollen lips and his hair that was now thoroughly disheveled - he looked downright gorgeous. You brushed your thumb along his jaw and pressed one final kiss to his skin before standing and turning your attention back to Anthony. You were past the need for subtle build up, your mind racing over all the things you wanted to do. Running your nails down his chest, you placed a singular kiss on his pec before sinking down on your knees in front of him.

“We’re gonna test your ability to speak up. Don’t be afraid to ask if you see something you like,” you said over your shoulder to the man sitting in the chair. You wasted little time in pulling your husband’s shorts down, and he kicked them into the corner of the room. His boxers would follow shortly, but you wanted to take your time for the moment and give Joe time to adjust. You put your hands on Anthony’s hips, shuffling your bodies so that Joe could still get a good view of everything that was happening, but you could also look back at him. Your hand found the bulge in the briefs in front of you, palming over him. Your mouth kissed up his thighs and over the cock that was straining against the cotton. His hand came up to wind through your hair to take control of your movements.

“You like that, huh? Teasing?” He breathed out, pressing your face into him. The mixture of hot skin and musky scent of him made your head dizzy. He never pushed too far, never called you names, but knew exactly how much turned you on. You moaned against him, the vibration traveling through the fabric. “That’s enough now.”

You didn’t need any more incentive, peeling away the fabric so that you could free him and give him exactly what he wanted. Anthony was a big man and that translated to many places. His hands were large, his digits always filling you to the brim when he fingered you. The same went for the thick cock that stood in front of you, leaking pre-cum from the tip. When you first started dating, it was intimidating to say the least. He always made sure to prepare you adequately and the stretch was incredible.

Instead of looking up at him as you began to run your tongue over his hot skin, you looked past him to Joe. Your eyes didn’t leave his as you moved the muscle over his tip. You pulled back for a moment to spit into your palm before taking him further back past your lips. You hand fisted around the part of him that you couldn’t fit. You could gag over him and still not be able to take him all the way in. The obscene wet sucking sound filled the room accompanied by Anthony’s small hums as you worked over him. Blowjobs were nice, but he cared more about seeing you below him, happily working on him like you couldn’t get enough. It was one of your favorite parts of foreplay and often meant you got rewarded.

A soft moan broke your eye contact and you looked again past your husband to see Joe sitting back in the chair, palming himself over his pants and looking at you with eyes half-lidded. It spurred you on to work harder on the man in front of you. You wanted Joe to gain the confidence and ask for what he wanted, so you decided to show him exactly what he was missing. You pushed yourself to take as much of Anthony in as you could, your tongue working against the underside of him and hollowing your cheeks. He knew exactly what you were doing, shaking his head and laughing quietly. A particular twist of your hand made him hiss out and bite his lip, his hand tightening in your hair.

“I-” a voice broke you from your concentration. You stilled on Anthony, your mouth still enveloped around him and suckling lightly. He loved resting in your mouth - it turned him on to have complete control over you. You breathed carefully through your nose to not trigger your gag reflex as Joe spoke up from behind the both of you.

“Can you- will you,” he struggled to find the right words. “I want your mouth on me,” his eyes flickered to Anthony as if he was asking for too much. The man only chuckled, tapping you to release him and he brushed your hair out of your face. He laid back on the bed to watch you pleasure the other man. You crawled over to Joe and ran your hands up his muscular thighs. Your hands drifted upwards and tugged at the hem of his t-shirt to signal that you wanted it off. He obliged eagerly, throwing it somewhere else in the room.

Joseph was tall and slim - nowhere near as large as Anthony, but still beautiful. He was toned and his abs flexed as he sat back again. His chest was smooth and hairless, only a hint of hair on his stomach leading to the hem of his bottoms. He lifted his hips off the chair so you could drag down the fabric and dispose of it. You licked a stripe up his thigh and appreciated him fully naked on the chair. His arousal stood tall and achingly red against his stomach.

He wasn’t as big as Anthony, though not many were. It made your job easier and you couldn’t wait to make him come undone beneath you. You took him in your hand, fisting him slowly and watching the velvety skin stretch and retract as your hand moved up and down. His reaction was exactly what you’d hoped for. He groaned deeply, his head falling back and his eyes fluttering shut at the contact. Since his size was more manageable, you got to do something that you weren’t able to do often. You worked quickly on him, moving to take his pulsing cock into your mouth. Wasting no time, you bobbed up and down on him before sinking as far as you could, your nose hitting the skin of his pelvis and his pubic hair tickling you.

“Fuck!” his hands flew to your hair before he could stop himself, entwining in the locks lightly. He didn’t hold you there but the shock of you taking him in caused him to tense and cry out. You swallowed around his length, gagging on him and pulling back to continue your movements. He didn’t seem the type to swear often, so you took it as a sign that you were doing something right.

Your cheeks hollowed as you sucked him, not wasting a second. You wanted to bring him to the edge and watch him squirm. From the way his mouth hung open and his abs flexed, you could tell he was barreling straight towards it. Your hands fondled his balls, rolling them in your fingers and squeezing lightly. It was then that you pulled off of him with a satisfying pop, giving him a few more lazy strokes before letting go. His chest heaved as he breathed deeply, looking down at you on your knees with wonder and disappointment that you stopped.

“The night is young. Plenty left to still explore, Joey,” you pressed one last kiss to his thigh before standing up.

At this point, you were the only one still fully clothed. Both men were completely stripped, so you took the initiative to start pulling off pieces of your clothing, making a show of wiggling your ass at your husband as you pulled the leggings down slowly. He got up from the bed to assist you, running his hands over your bare skin every chance he got. Your shirt came over your head and was added to the growing pile of clothes.

“You wanna help, hot stuff?” You held your hand out to Joe, knowing that all that was left was your matching bra and underwear, carefully chosen for this night. You wanted him to be the one to do it. He was still hesitant and almost scared to touch you, and you wanted that to change. Behind you, lips pressed into your skin once again and you could feel the hot arousal of Anthony’s cock against your lower back, contrasting the cool metal of his wedding band as his hands explored your body.

Joe took your hand, pulling himself from the chair and standing in front of you. You still had to look up at him and he looked at you so softly it made your heart melt. He didn’t know how to handle you, so his default was to treat you like porcelain even if you’d taken much more before.

You knew by now you had already soaked your panties through. Thick arousal was pooling between your thighs and you ached for someone to touch you. It was all becoming too much, the room hot with your combined sweat.

Joe took the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down your legs and following them so he was the one kneeling now. You felt like a queen the way he looked up at you with intense admiration. It was his turn to place a soft kiss right above your knee once you stepped free of the fabric. The clasp of your bra came undone with the nimble hands of the man standing behind you.

“I want to eat you out,” Joe blurted like he wasn’t sure exactly how to broach the topic. “I want to taste you,” he was slowly gaining confidence, learning to use his words and express his needs. You hand found his chin, pulling him up from the ground. Your bodies pressed together, your front against his as your lips met again, this time with less reserve. You were sandwiched between them, your brain buzzing with the stimulus of their hands and lips all over you. Strong arms wrapped around your waist, breaking you away from Joe as you were thrown over a shoulder. Laughter escaped you as Anthony carried you to the bed and Joe watched with a smile on his face. It felt nice to lighten things up now and then and not get too caught up in the intensity of the situation. You were here to make each other feel good. A smack to your ass made you yelp and you returned the favor on Anthony as you had a great view. The next moment you were thrown onto the plush mattress of your king sized bed.

“Think you can make her come with just your mouth?” Anthony smirked after he pulled away. You looked between the men standing over you - one confident and the other looking like a deer in headlights.

“Oh my god, you’ve never gone down on a girl before, have you?” You propped yourself up on your elbows. Deep red spread across his cheeks as he looked around at anything but you. You felt bad for embarrassing him, but there was only one way for him to learn. You crawled forward pulling Joe to the bed and holding his face in your so he couldn’t shy away. “Anthony can help you,” you rubbed your hands up and down his toned biceps and leaned in to whisper in his ear, your lips brushing his skin. “I want your mouth on me, Joey,” you nipped at his ear lobe before pulling away. “I’ll tell you what feels good.”

“Okay,” he nodded, mesmerized by you. You laid back on the bed and let Anthony take control once again. He looped his arms around your thighs and dragged you to the edge. He was over the foreplay and dove right in. You could tell he was beginning to lose his patience and you knew you were in for it. There was probably very little teaching about to happen.

He licked a stripe up your soaking folds, moaning into you like a man starved. His ability to pinpoint every part of you that set your skin on fire would never get old. He alternated between fucking his tongue into you and licking at your sopping cunt. His arms held you down when your hips bucked upwards to follow the stimulus. The air was filled with your moans and gasps when he focused on your clit, his lips wrapping around it and sucking. He didn’t mess around, and your hands held onto his hair like it was a lifeline keeping you grounded.

You managed to open your eyes to see Joseph watching intently, no doubt taking mental notes about what to do when it was his turn. His hand wrapped around his angry cock, giving it half-hearted pumps and squeezes.

“So fucking good,” Anthony nearly growled into you. The warmth was growing and tightening in your lower abdomen. If he didn’t stop soon, you would be sent hurling over the edge.

You tapped Anthony’s shoulder desperately. One of his favorite things was eating you out, but you still wanted Joe to have a chance. He groaned like he didn’t want to stop, but relented and pulled off. He didn’t need you to pull him up your body - it was muscle memory this time. He hovered over you, engulfing you lips with his as you tasted yourself on him. His beard was soaked with your slick and it wet your chin.

Anthony moved behind you, effortlessly moving you so that you were laying between his legs, your back to his chest. Joseph kneeled at the edge of the bed, finally getting a good view of you. From this position, Anthony could hold you down and also coach the other man through it. You knew you weren’t going to last long and the thought of them both eating you out was enough to have your mind whirling.

“Start slow. Flatten your tongue and lick her from bottom to top,” Anthony began. You arched into his fingers as they ran over your bare breasts. He squeezed the mounds and pinched at your nipples. When you squirmed in his grasp, he placed one large palm on your stomach, pushing you back down onto him. You watched as the man between your legs worked through his fears. Whether or not he knew how hot it was, his eyes held yours as he put his mouth on you.

His tongue was hot and wet against you, his spit mixing with the arousal that was coating your inner thighs now. With the build up from the man before him, you knew you weren’t going to last long. You were worried how many orgasms Anthony had planned for you, but knew you would end the night feeling like jelly.

“Fuck your tongue into her once she’s warmed up. And alternate between sucking and flicking your tongue on her clit. Try some things, but also watch to see what makes her react. That’s the biggest thing,” Anthony continued playing with your chest, now placing kisses wherever he could reach. Joe listened eagerly and did exactly what he was told. When he focused his tongue over your most sensitive spot your body jerked to try and chase the sensation. You weren’t holding back anymore, the pleas and moans spilling from your mouth almost non-stop.

“You can spit on her. She loves that,” Anthony encouraged. He held you firm as you were beginning to feel the pleasure and promise of release build. Seeing Joe go from scared to a man possessed was doing more than he knew. He pulled back, his chin glistening in the dim room and looked you in the eyes as he gathered spit in his mouth and let it drip from his mouth over you. He licked back up you to collect the saliva and continued his attack, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking hard.

“Fuck, please,” you moaned, your eyes squeezing shut.

“That feel good, baby?” Anthony murmured into your ear.

“Yes, please don’t stop, Joey. I’m so fucking close,” you whined. Your husband’s grip lightened so you could grind your hips down onto Joe’s mouth.

“Open your eyes, sweetheart. He wants to see your face when you come,” his hands traveled lightly over your skin and the extra stimulation drove you crazy. When you pried your eyes open, you saw the intense blue of his eyes, unwavering on yours.

Your first orgasm hit you in low waves. A single swear word flew from your lips as your hips stuttered against his mouth. Your moans were high pitched and breathless as the warmth and pleasure filled your limbs. Your hands held a bruising grip on your huaband’s forearms.

“Work her through it. Don’t stop until she’s twitching,” Anthony encouraged. Joe was a good student. He didn’t stop until you were gasping and trying to pull your hips away from him. It was too good; it felt like electricity moved through your body. He finally relented, removing himself from you, but there was a shine in his eyes that said something had moved within him.

The room fell into silence as they allowed you to recover. Your body felt numb as the aftershocks coursed through you. Sweat covered your brow and you melted into the body holding you. A soft kiss to your temple brought you back yourself and you let out a soft sigh.

“You did so good, baby,” more kisses followed. “But I’m not done with you yet,” his voice fell lower. “There’s a lot for us to show Woller, no?” His lips traveled down and kissed along your neck.

“That was probably the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” Joe spoke up, which earned a weak laugh from you. He still kneeled on the floor and you ran your fingers through his soft hair.

“You did a great job, Joey. You’re a fast learner,” You sat up with support from the man behind you and felt your blood pressure equalize.

“I have an idea,” the voice from behind you said. That was always a dangerous set of words coming from Anthony. It meant you were barely going to make it through the night. Of course, you could always tap out or use your safe word, but the arousal that had been temporarily satiated now began to grow again. “Lay back on the bed, baby,” Anthony helped you move from him to lay back against the pillows rested against the headboard.

“You gotta warm her up before you fuck her, Joe. Use your fingers,” Just like he became a mentor on ice, he was now helping his teammate in a different way. His words were commanding and it sparked something within you. Joe was so eager to please and listened, that the idea of tying him up and having your way with him flashed through your mind. Maybe you could do this again sometime and see if it was something he would like.

For now you came back to the present moment, watching the two men stand at the edge of the bed. Joe stepped forward, stroking your thighs and ghosting around the area you wanted him to touch this most.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked.

“Please,” you sighed, opening your legs for him and inviting him in. He climbed on the bed to hover over you and kissed you deeply. You moaned into his mouth when his fingers swept through your cunt, collecting the juices on his fingers before sliding a finger inside of you. His touch was unsure, like he didn’t know how to move his fingers, so he settled for pumping them in and out of you slowly. He added a second finger that slid in easily with how wet you were.

It wasn’t bad, just nothing special. It was clear he was working on auto-pilot and wasn’t paying much attention to what worked for you because he didn’t know. He needed a little extra help.

“Anthony,” you beckoned your husband over to give him some guidance. You could tell Joe what to do, but you wanted the other man’s hands on you and it was sexy when he took control. He joined you both on the bed and watched as Joe worked over you.

“Can I help you, Joe?” he asked, this time softer. He didn’t want the other man to feel inadequate, but wanted rather to guide him.

“Am I doing something wrong?” He looked between the both of you. You didn’t want his confidence to waver.

“Just need some tips,” Anthony mussed Joe’s hair and it was a moment of sweet vulnerability between the men that reminded you that they were close friends. Anthony turned his attention to you, taking his two forefingers and dipping them into your mouth to wet them. You felt Joe’s fingers still inside of you as he watched the erotic scene unfolding. You suckled on the digits, weaving your tongue between them and staring up at your lover. He removed his fingers from your mouth, a string of spit connecting the two of you for a moment before it split.

His fingers caressed underneath Joe’s before slowly pushing in alongside them. The stretch was almost too much and your hands found Anthony’s forearm, holding him still as you adjusted. The sight of both of them hovering over you, filling you to the brim, was pornographic. Instead of having to take turns, they now worked together on you. You nodded at them to begin moving as your walls stretched to accommodate them together.

“You don’t just want to move in and out. Curl your fingers. Like this,” You felt Anthony’s larger digits guide Joe’s. With each thrust of their fingers, they curled together to brush the soft spot inside of your eyebrows furrowed, your mouth dropping open in ecstasy.

“Fuck that’s it, baby,” Joe breathed out. The instant change left him aching to replace his fingers with his cock. It was becoming painful and he hoped you’d let him bury his length inside you before the night ended. The pet name didn’t bother Anthony - it happened in emotional times like this, and he knew how much pet names worked for you.

Your hips began to move in tandem with them, angling yourself whenever their fingers curled to match the rhythm and grind down on them. This was a completely new experience and your second orgasm was creeping closer.

“You can do this, too, but it might be too much right now. She’s all filled up,” Anthony’s fingers scissored inside of you and you cried out at the stretch as Joe followed suit.

“Shit, shit, shit. Sooooo good,” Your eyes nearly rolled into the back of your head. You whined as one set of fingers left your cunt, leaving you feeling emptier than you would have liked. A low buzz caught your attention, and you opened your eyes to see Anthony pulling one of your favorite vibrators from the bedside table.

“Don’t want to leave any part of you neglected,” Anthony climbed back onto the bed and kissed you deeply before pulling back. His fingers joined Joe’s once again, followed by the deep vibration pressed directly to your clit. The moan that ripped from your mouth filled the room.

The men resumed their movement, their fingers hitting the spot deep inside of you combined with the vibration of the toy pressed directly to your bundle of nerves. Your vision went white as your second orgasm hit like a truck. You left your body as the pleasure consumed every part of you, much stronger than the first. Only once you were whimpering and weakly batting at the arm that held the vibrator against you did they pull away.

Your chest heaved as you laid boneless on the bed, waiting to return to yourself. Anthony laid next to you and pressed soft kisses along your face. You pawed at Joe’s hand, weakly trying to pull him to you as well. He obliged eagerly, his arms resting over your waist.

“You got one more in you, baby?” Your husband murmured into your ear.

As tired as you felt, you knew that you were the only one that came so far, and the want to satisfy them outweighed the heaviness settling into your bones.

You nodded into the warmth of your husband’s chest, placing weak kisses there.

“Good girl. Bend over the bed. Joe can lay here and watch before it’s his turn,” he gave you one last kiss before getting up. You scooted to place your feet on the carpeted floor and bent over the duvet, resting yourself there so you could watch as Joe once again took himself in his hands and twisted his hands around his cock.

Anthony settled behind you, a singular smack echoing around the room followed by his hand smoothing over the stinging skin. His strong hand held onto your hips as he guided his length through your folds, collecting the excessive wetness there before slowly pushing into you.

He always filled you so perfectly, stretching you so that you molded around him. A deep groan fell from him as he finally seated himself fully within you. There was nothing better than sinking into your heat and feeling you tight around him.

“So fucking good. So tight around me. This pussy was made for me, huh?” He punctuated each sentence with a long thrust, pulling himself out and then slamming back into you. His hips hit your ass with each move, pushing you further onto the bed. Even if you brought other people in often, it was clear who you belonged to at the end of the day.

“Fuck, just for you,” your hands fisted into the sheets as he set a brutal pace. He pulled you back onto him every time his hips moved forward and the sound of slapping skin filled the room. Even after both of them fingering you and stretching you out, he was always almost too big for you. It turned you on that he had to work you open and split you with his length. You would never grow tired of the feeling of him pounding into you.

“You gonna let Joey fuck you after this?”

“Please,” you gasped as he angled his hips and abused the soft spot within you. He could tell he was hitting all the right spots and slowed his thrusts to drag against your walls. He knew if you came again, it would be your last and he wanted Joe to have his turn. With much reluctance, he pulled away from you, leaving you cold and empty.

“Go on then, sweetheart. He’s waiting,” he smoothed his hand over the handprint on your ass once more before pulling away completely. You scrambled to climb on the bed and fill yourself again, missing the feeling of being filled. You muscles ached and you knew you’d be sore in the morning, but it was all worth it.

You climbed on top of Joe, grinding yourself down on him and sliding his dick through your pussy. He was already moaning, and you knew after all this waiting that he was not going to last. You took him in your hand, swiping once more through your heat before sinking down on him.

He wasn’t as long or thick as Anthony, but he still filled you nicely, hitting different spots than the other man. You bottomed out on him, quickly moving to grinding down on him. The sounds spilling from his lips were beautiful as he watched where your bodies connected, pulling himself out of you before you sunk back down.

His hands dug into your hips and you wondered if bruises would bloom there in the morning.

“Touch her, Joe,” Anthony prompted. He fisted himself watching the love of his life get off on his teammate. Joe’s hand dropped to your clit, rubbing quick circles around the puffy, swollen skin.

“Oh, shit. Don’t stop,” you moaned. You wanted to give it right back to him. “Fuck, that pussy feel good, J? You’ve been so good. You deserve this, don’t you, baby?”

His thrusts were growing faster and sloppier, and it was a race to see who would come first. His mouth hung open as he concentrated on chasing his high and making sure you followed after.

“You wanna fill me up?” You said putting the last bit of your energy into meeting each of his thrusts and bearing down on him. His head fell back to the pillows as he whimpered.

“Please let me come in you,” his teeth were grit as he tried to hold on long enough for you to give him the go ahead, but he was quickly unraveling.

“I want you to, Joey. Wanna come with you and have you fill me. Please,” you squeezed down on him as he swiped his thumb over your clit. His head was cloudy and he didn’t know how much longer he could last. Your hips stuttered as your last orgasm of the night washed over you, your walls spasming around him and pushing him over the edge. His hips hit once, twice more before he buried himself in your and filled you with his hot come. Your moans chorused with one another as you let the pure pleasure consume you.

There was only one person left in the room who hadn’t come yet, and you knew exactly what he wanted. Removing yourself softly from Joe and feeling the mixture of your releases drip down your legs, you climbed off the bed to kneel once more in front of your husband. The hand around his length quickened as you waited, your mouth open and tongue sticking out to catch his come. His blue eyes held yours as he pumped himself, his hand twisting and squeezing. Seeing you so ready and willing below him burned in his lower stomach and his face scrunched as he felt the release building.

He came with a deep groan, your own hand reaching to cover his and milk his cock, feeling the warm semen hit your cheeks and tasting the bitter substance on your tongue. You leaned forward to take him in your mouth gently, cleaning off the rest of the white liquid that dripped from him.

He left you for only a moment, returning with a warm, wet washcloth to wipe down your face. You smiled up at him as he took care of you. The heavy atmosphere has dissipated and his soft, warm self had returned. He scooped you up easily from the floor and transferred you back to the plush bed, making sure to wipe gently between your legs to clean you off.

You laid between the two men - the room quiet and smelling of sex. You were all tired and satiated. You could talk about the details later, discuss feelings and whether or not something like this would happen again. For now, you were content with laying between them, their body heat radiating and keeping you warm. Anthony’s arm wrapped around your waist to hold you close as you drew shapes absentmindedly into Joe’s bicep.

“Feel free to stay the night, Joe,” you murmured as the exhaustion finally hit you and you began to drift off. “I make a mean pot of coffee…”

#joseph woll smut #joseph woll imagine #joseph woll x reader #joseph woll #joe woll #toronto maple leafs #nhl x reader #nhl smut #nhl imagine #anthony stolarz smut #anthony stolarz

309 notes · View notes

schemmentigfs · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! can we get a mel x reader fic where the reader makes mel jealous but instead of getting the reaction she wants (extremely hot sex) she actually makes melissa cry (and then soft smut at the end 😔) mel receiving ofc 🧎🏽‍♀️

Breaking Point.

Summary: One trivia night at Ruby’s with the gang sets the stage for your plan to stir Melissa Schemmenti’s jealousy. However, instead of the anticipated reaction, her insecurities surface. Feeling humiliated, she breaks down in tears and you realize that you fucked up.

WC: 5k.

tags: @lifeismomentsyoucannotunderstand @lisaannwaltersbra @italianaidiota @kukikatt @dopenightmaretyphoon @schmentisgf @pitstopsapphic @jeridandridge @aliensuperst4rr (@writerspirit) thanks for helping me out with this one. 💛

Warnings: Jealousy, Violence, Apologize Sex, a small reference to Mommy Kink, and a single slap.

Melissa Ann Catarina Schemmenti had always been a woman of fierce temperament, her spirit sharp as the cut of her heels against South Philly pavement, her loyalty as unwavering as the stoop she was raised on. Passion ran through her like good espresso: dark, strong, impossible to ignore. And her jealousy, her jealousy was no quiet, passing shadow.

It’s a know fact that jealousy could manifest in completely different ways in other people, depending on their personality, their history, and even how they handle their emotions. While in her, jealousy was like a sharp blade, discreet and dangerous, in others it could reveal itself in very distinct forms: Some people dealt with it in a more explosive way. The type of jealousy that came loaded with sharp words, said in the heat of the moment, often followed by regretful apologies once the dust settled. It was the jealousy of those who couldn’t contain the storm inside of them, who let it spill over in public arguments, bursts of possessiveness, and thoughtless accusations.

Others, however, were masters in the art of silence. This type of jealousy manifested itself in looks full of resentment, in short and cold responses, in a sudden absence that punished without the need for words. It was a jealousy that wove itself into the routine, creating an almost imperceptible but suffocating distance, leaving the other person wondering where exactly they had gone wrong.

There were also those who turned jealousy into self-punishment. Instead of confronting, they turned inward, questioning their own worth, diminishing themselves in comparison to others. This type of jealousy didn’t translate into anger but into insecurity, into silent doubts, into looks that were diverted and smiles that wilted when noticing their loved one’s attention turned elsewhere.

And, of course, there were those who, even feeling jealous, wore it like a mask of indifference. They smiled, made jokes, pretended not to care – but their eyes said otherwise. A slight tremor at the corner of the mouth, a somewhat forced laugh, a quick subject change to hide the flicker of discomfort.

But when it came to the mean redhead with a bangin’ body, it was different. Her jealousy didn’t explode nor hide. It existed in every detail, subtle and precise, a constant reminder that, in her world, you were something precious. Something worth protecting. Something that, if anyone dared to touch, would find, even unknowingly, the silent beast behind the smile.

You realized this early on in your relationship, now eight years strong, and if you were truly honest with yourself, you’d have to admit: you loved her anyway. It wasn’t childish jealousy, the kind that overflows with insecurity or neediness. No. Hers was something more refined, sharp like the edge of a razor blade, burning beneath the surface like a lit cigarette in the fingers of someone who had tried to quit the habit but still relished the scent of the smoke. It was a fire that sparked in the most mundane moments – a dense shadow in her green eyes when a stranger leaned in too close to talk to you at the bar, an almost imperceptible tightening of muscles when the supermarket cashier called you “sweetie” with a smile that lingered a second too long, a dangerous stillness when Ava Coleman blinked exaggeratedly at you in the Abbott Elementary hallways, calling you “boo” just to watch your girlfriend boil over.

And you remembered that day perfectly.

Monday mornings were already hellish enough. The fluorescent lights in the hallways buzzed faintly overhead, blending with the usual start of the week chaos—teachers swapping exhausted stories about their weekends, students shouting and running like they had never learned what walking was, lockers slamming shut with enough force to shake the walls. You were still nursing your rapidly cooling coffee, trying to shake off the sluggishness of the morning, when it happened.

So fast, your brain lagged behind, struggling to process.

One moment, Ms. Schemmenti was standing next to you, her usual morning scowl in place, one hand lazily wrapped around her untouched coffee. Ava was in front of you, chatting—no, flirting—because that was just the irresponsible principal’s favorite way to start the week.

“You’re looking particularly fine today,” she had mused, dragging out the words like she was testing them. Then, glancing at your girlfriend with a devilish smirk, she added. “If you ever need a break from Vito Corleone over here, you know where to find me, babyboo.”

Big mistake.

The second grade teacher’s coffee hit the floor with a wet splat. And then, before anyone could react, she lunged. Like, fully launched herself at her own boss. It was almost cartoonish how fast it happened. One second, Melissa was beside you. The next, she had both arms locked around Ava’s neck, her entire body weight slamming into the taller woman like some kind of feral redheaded linebacker.

The sassy principal screamed. “Hell no! Schemmenti, what the heck?!”

“Say it. Say it again if you want me to break your neck!”

The entire crew froze almost immediately. Janine let out a horrified gasp. Gregory’s eyebrows nearly hit his hairline. Jacob turned a shade of white you weren’t sure was healthy. Mr. Johnson, completely unbothered, took a slow sip of his coffee. Barb, standing just a few feet away, had barely turned the corner when her hand flew to her chest. “Sweet Baby Jesus and the grown-up too!”

Meanwhile, Ava flailed like a cartoon character, grabbing desperately at Melissa’s firm wrists. “ARE YOU ACTUALLY TRYING TO STRANGLE ME?” she screeched.

The redheaded woman’s face was flushed with rage, her green eyes dark with murderous intent. She tightened her grip slightly, voice coming out low and deadly. “Call her ‘boo’ again, Coleman. I dare you.”

You should step in. You should do something. But for a solid five seconds, all you could do was stare feeling a mix of shock, panic, and, God help you, just a tiny bit of admiration.

“FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, SOMEBODY GET THIS DEMON OFF ME!” Ava howled, kicking her tall legs in a completely ineffective attempt to break free.

Jacob finally snapped out of his horror-stricken daze, stumbling forward and grabbing his mother figure around the waist. “You can’t just STRANGLE the principal of the school! She’s our boss!” he wheezed, struggling to pull her back.

Melissa resisted for a moment, like she was genuinely considering finishing the job. But then, with a deep exhale, she let go. Ava stumbled backward, coughing violently, hands flying to her throat as she stared at her coworker like she had just been attacked by a rabid raccoon.

“You need THERAPY, bitch!” the tall woman gasped.

Your girlfriend rolled her shoulders back, straightening her jacket as she took a slow, steady breath. Then, in a voice dangerously calm, she tilted her head and said:

“No. But you will if you keep looking at my girl like that.”

Silence.

The only sound was the distant buzzing of the lights and the faint creak of a classroom door opening somewhere down the hall.

Barbara, still clutching her chest, exhaled heavily. “Lord…”

You, finally remembering how to breathe, swallowed hard and glanced at Jacob, who looked seconds away from a full-body shutdown.

“Oh my God…” you muttered, still half-convinced you had hallucinated the whole thing.

Ava held up her hands in surrender. “I will NEVER call her ‘boo’ again. I swear.”

Melissa, now composed, smirked. “Good.” With that, she grabbed your hand and walked off like absolutely nothing had happened.

And you? You savored every moment. It was a silent game between the two of you, a dance choreographed by the veiled possessiveness that the green-eyed woman refused to verbalize, but that burned in the way her fingers marked your hip, in the way her Philadelphian accent grew rougher when someone got too close.

She would never admit it, never. After all, Melissa Schemmenti was a woman made of steel and concrete, forged in a traditional Catholic Italian family where weakness wasn’t allowed. But you knew that when it came to you, that steel would burn. It would turn into something fierce, something wild. It was a beast protecting its territory from a predator, growling softly, ready for a fight.

It was visible in the stiffening of her shoulders, in the way her pupils dilated, in the way her fingers wrapped around your waist with a possessive strength, pulling you close, as if saying without words: my woman. And when her full lips brushed your ear, her voice low and warm like aged whiskey, she murmured, loaded with a delicious threat.

“You’re trying to make me lose my mind, babydoll? You know what happens when you disrespect Mommy.”

And later, that same night, your girlfriend would kiss you with an uncontrollable hunger, her hands holding your face, her body pressed against yours until there was no space left between you except for your labored breaths and the muffled sound of your sighs and moans. Until your legs gave out. Until you begged for mercy.

So when the karaoke night along with the Q&A arrived at Ruby’s and the group was already drunk enough to dance without caring about the rhythm, you decided to have a little fun.

It wasn’t like Melissa wasn’t already completely focused on you. She always was. Even there, in the bar immersed in amber lights, saturated with the smell of alcohol and grease, she stayed glued to you— her arm resting lazily on your back, her fingers tracing slow, hypnotic circles on your shoulder. But you wanted more. Something hotter. Something rougher.

So, you leaned in, your lips brushing the soft skin of her earlobe. “You better not let us lose, Schemmenti. I want to go home with a winner.”

Your girlfriend smiled, that confident smile that always made your stomach flip.

“Oh, please, babe. I have a lifetime of useless facts up here,” she tapped her temple and winked at you. “We’re going to win.”

The night went on with jokes, teases, and generous sips of drinks. The questions ranged from absurdly difficult topics to answers so easy that Jacob nearly had a nervous breakdown trying to explain how people got them wrong. Ava, surprisingly, was excellent at the game and carried the team round after round, delivering insults with the precision of a surgeon. O’shon was impressed by his girlfriend’s performance but kept shy. Sea Barbara was having the time of her life while Janine and Gregory desperately chased her though the whole bar.

In the third round, Melissa was at the bar with Jacob, both engaged in a heated discussion about Roman emperors. Her former roommate insisted that Nero was the worst, but the second-grade teacher, with her passionate tone and expressive hands, delivered a fiery monologue about how Caligula was, without a doubt, the worst creature to ever walk the Earth.

“Nero was the worst, hands down,” the social studies teacher argued, his hands flailing for emphasis. “He burned down Rome, Mel! He literally played the lyre while watching the city go up in flames.”

Your girlfriend scoffed, leaning forward, her eyes ablaze with passion. “Oh, come on, dude! Nero was bad, but Caligula? That man was an unhinged lunatic. He made his horse a senator.”

Jacob raised an eyebrow. “Okay, but—”

“Don’t interrupt me! I’m just getting started,” she warned, pointing a finger at him. “This man executed people on a whim. Held orgies so disturbing that even the Romans thought it was too much. And let’s not forget the time he declared war on the damn ocean.”

Her work son blinked. “War on the ocean?”

“Yes! The man ordered his soldiers to attack the sea and then collect seashells as spoils of war!” She threw her hands up in exasperation. “What kind of lunatic does that?”

Jacob snorted, shaking his head. “I still think Nero was worse.”

Melissa huffed, grabbed a peanut from the bowl on the table, and chucked it at him. “You’re an idiot, Hill.”

“You’re just stubborn.”

Narrowing her olive eyes, the redhead lifted her hand and flipped him off. “Fuck you.”

He gasped in mock offense before bursting into laughter. Without warning, the older woman grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him into a tight, crushing hug.

“Love you, even though you are a fuckin’ dumbass,” she muttered against his shoulder.

Jacob chuckled, hugging her back. “Love you too, ‘Elissa. But Nero was still worse.”

Melissa pulled back just enough to glare at him before smacking the back of his head after hearing the nickname.

“OUCH! What was that for? I feel like a teenager who was grounded by his mother.”

“You’re lucky I’m drunk, or this argument would last until tomorrow.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of the room, Mr. Johnson, with his relaxed posture and sly smile, was trying to bribe the host.

“Listen here, kid. If I give you twenty, do you think you can bump up our score?” he gestured to his team.

The poor college student, clearly tired of the night, rolled his eyes. “Sir, this is trivia, not blackjack. Please respect the rules.”

After the final trivia question, Jacob was practically glowing, his enthusiasm spilling over like a tipped glass, nearly knocking over his drink every time he got an answer right. Beside him, Gregory and Janine were lost in their usual slow-burn headass dynamic, whispering heatedly, orbiting each other like stars destined to collide.

The last round ended, and music poured through the speakers—loud, rhythmic, impossible to ignore. Ava clapped her hands with a flourish, tugging her smiling boyfriend by the jacket. “Alright, losers, time to shake ass.”

Your girlfriend let out a snort full of irony. “Oh, no. Not happening. I won’t dance tonight, A.”

Barbara raised an amused brow, her smile full of quiet mischief. She wasn’t surprised with her best friend’s familiar stubbornness. “Come on, girlfriend, don’t be a party popper. Even Gregory's going.”

The first grade teacher, already halfway to the dance floor thanks to Janine’s persistent tugging, spun around like a man trying to escape fate. “I never said I was going.” But his girlfriend pulled him in anyway, laughing as he stumbled after her.

Jacob squealed with glee, singing out loud.“You say you wanna win it. I wanna see you sweat, put your whole kitty in it.”

And suddenly, the table was empty. Just you and Melissa remained, you turned to her, lips pouted in exaggerated pleading.“C’mon, baby. Dance with me.”

She shook her head slowly, firmly. “You know I don’t do that.”

“Fine,” you sighed. Then, with a sly smile curling at the corners of your mouth. “I’ll just find someone else to dance with.”

Her redbrow lifted, sharp as a challenge. “Yeah?”

That’s how you ended up leaning on the bar, body tilted with practiced ease, casting flirtatious glances at the very attractive bartender. She looked about your age, maybe younger. Short hair, styled with flair, and one arm inked from shoulder to wrist in a tapestry of tattoos.

You twirled a strand of hair around your finger and gave her a knowing smile.

“So, what’s your best drink?”

The bartender smiled back, slowly looking you up and down. “For you? Something really sweet, I think.”

You laughed—really laughed—and rested your hand on the bar, giving her a wink.

But something changed. The air thickened, charged with tension. You felt her before you saw her. That presence. Familiar. Possessive. Magnetic.

Melissa Schemmenti’s hand landed on your hip, firm, warm, grounding.

“We’re leaving,” her tone was low, a growl made of gravel and storm. “Screw this stupid night.”

Your stomach flipped in anticipation. Yes. That was the reaction you’d wanted. She would get pissed off and fuck you later. You turned, fully expecting the heat in her green eyes—the fire that told you you’d pay for this later.

But what you saw wasn’t fire. It was ruin.

Melissa looked shattered. You didn’t get the words out. She yanked you away from the bar, out into the night, where cold air bit at your skin.

And then, she erupted.

“What the fuck was that?!” your girlfriend shouted under the weight of emotion. Her face flushed, streaked with silent tears.

“Baby, I just...”

Smack. The slap was light. Reflexive. Born of frustration more than anger. But your eyes widened anyway.

Melissa never hit you. Not even during sex.

She recoiled immediately, hand flying to her mouth, as if to muffle the sound that still echoed between you. “I’m not some fuckin’ animal for you to play with.”

“Lis?”

She looked away, trembling.

“You don’t want me anymore, do you?"

And then you understood. She wasn’t angry. She was scared. You reached for the older woman, but she pulled back like your touch would shatter her.

“Jesus… I’m fifty. What am I even doing with you? I should’ve known… I should’ve known.”

Your eyes stung with unshed tears.

“Mel, what are you talking about?”

She swallowed hard, a sob catching in her throat.“Joe used to do that to me, you know?”

You gulped.

Melissa never talked about her ex-husband.

“He’d flirt with other women right in front of me. Just to remind me he could. And when I got upset, he’d make me feel crazy. Like I was pathetic for thinking I could ever keep him.”

Nausea rose in your throat, bitter and sharp.

Her lips trembled with memories too heavy to hold. “I thought you loved me.”

Those words broke you. “I do. I love you so much.”

She didn’t answer back, instead she closed her eyes and asked. “Can we just go home?”

The ride home was silent. Melissa sat curled against the door, her arms wrapped tightly around herself, staring out the window like she wanted to be anywhere but here. By the time you pulled into the driveway and killed the engine, she was already out of the car, heading straight inside without a word.

You followed, feeling your stomach twist as you stepped into the house.

She was in the kitchen, standing by the counter, her back to you. Her arms were still wrapped around herself, fingers gripping at her sleeves, like she was trying to hold herself together.

You took a slow, cautious step forward and sighed heavily. “Honey.”

Your girlfriend didn’t look at you. Just let out a shaky breath. “I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Do what?”

Finally, she turned, and the look on her face shattered you. “This. Us.”

A sharp, horrible fear lodged in your throat.

“Lissa, please.”

“I love you.” The words were rushed, raw. “I love you so much it scares the shit outta me. And I—” She swallowed hard. “I can’t go through that bullshit again. I won’t.”

The second grade teacher was trembling now, holding herself so tightly it looked like she might break apart.

And you couldn’t let her think like this—not for another second.

You surged forward, wrapping your arms around her, pressing her tight against your chest. She resisted for half a second before melting into you, her whole body sagging.

“You won’t,” you whispered into her hair. “I swear to god, you won’t.”

Melissa let out a ragged breath, her arms still locked around herself even as she pressed her face against your shoulder.

“I was stupid,” you murmured, stroking her back, voice thick with guilt. “I thought I was just messing around, but I hurt you, and I hate myself for it.” You cupped the back of her head, tilting her face up just enough to meet her eyes. “You’re my everything, Mel. No one else. Just you.”

Her plump lips trembled.

“I love you,” you sobbed. “I love you so much.”

Something in her cracked then, her breath shuddering as she let go of herself and finally grabbed onto you.

And then she was kissing you.

Desperate, messy, all shaky hands and tear-stained cheeks. She kissed you like she needed proof that you were still here, that you weren’t going anywhere. You kissed her back just as fiercely, one hand on her cheek, the other gripping her waist, holding her like she was the most precious thing in the world—because Melissa Schemmenti was.

The redhead let out a shaky tiny noise against your lips, and you pulled back just enough to whisper, “Let me make it up to you.”

She swallowed, her forehead resting against yours, her breath still uneven. “H-How?”

You ran your hands slowly down her sides, soft and reverent, looking her straight in the eyes. “By showing you exactly how much I want you.”

A flicker of something passed through her eyes—uncertainty, vulnerability—but then her grip on your shirt tightened, and she nodded.

“Okay.”

And you kissed her again, slow and deep, determined to make her feel everything she had doubted tonight.

After a few more promises and kisses, Melissa led you upstairs, her grip on your hand tight, like she was afraid you’d disappear if she let go.

As you guided her toward your shared bedroom, your fingers tracing gentle patterns on her milky skin. Every step she took was hesitant, but you could see the hunger and need flickering behind her green eyes, along with the insecurity she’d shown you earlier.

When you reached the bed, your girlfriend hesitated, her fingers twitching at the hem of her shirt. Her cheeks were already flushed, a obvious combination of arousal and nervousness. You knew this side of her. The part that fought against vulnerability, the part that still struggled to believe she could be adored so thoroughly after decades of being humiliated by her ex-husband.

“C’mere,” you coaxed.

She breathed through her nose, then finally pulled the fabric over her head, dropping it to the floor as she laid down on the bed. Your breath caught as you took her in—her full, round breasts rising and falling with every uneven breath, her pink nipples already hardened in anticipation. She was beautiful. She was yours

But as soon as the cool air hit her hourglass figure, her arms reflexively crossed over her chest, shielding herself. “Y-you don’t have to do this,” she stuttered.

You stepped closer, gently brushing her arms aside. “None of that. Let me love you,” you reply, meeting her eyes, making sure she saw nothing but adoration in your gaze. You started slow, pressing kisses to her shoulders, trailing down the slope of her collarbone. The tension in her muscles eased little by little as you continued, your lips moving lower until they reached the soft swell of her breast.

Melissa let out a shaky breath, her fingers gripping the white sheets behind her.

The moment your mouth closed around one of her sensitive nipples, she gasped, her back arching instinctively. You sucked lightly at first, teasing, circling your tongue around the stiff peak. The way her breath hitched sent a rush of heat through you, and you did it again, this time flicking your tongue against the sensitive bud before wrapping your lips around it completely.

“Jesus H. Christ,” she groaned. Her fingers found their way into your hair, tangling there as if grounding herself.

You hummed against her skin, feeling the way she shivered in response. Your other hand moved to her neglected breast, cupping its warmth, your thumb brushing over her nipple in slow, deliberate strokes. Melissa’s hips shifted restlessly, and you could feel the heat radiating from her, the growing need that she was barely keeping at bay.

Her swollen lip was caught between her teeth as she tried to suppress the noises spilling from her throat, but it was useless. When you sucked harder, she let out a choked moan, her grip on you tightening.

“Fuck,” the older woman whispered, the curse slipping from her lips like a prayer. “Just like that…”

“Yeah? Does my pretty girl like this?” you asked before switching to her other breast, making sure to give it the same attention, sucking and licking until your girlfriend was writhing beneath you. She cursed again, raspier now, more desperate.

“God, honey,” Melissa groaned, her green eyes fluttering open just enough to look at you. The sight of you—your mouth on her, your hands worshiping every inch of her—made her chest rise and fall even quicker. “You are so good.”

She placed her hand over yours where it cupped her breast, silently urging you to squeeze harder, to give her more. You obeyed, kneading the soft flesh in your palm, rolling her nipple between your fingers while your tongue worked the other. Melissa threw her head back, her breath catching in her throat as pleasure coursed through her.

“Shit,” she panted, her thighs clenching together. “You’re gonna—” her words broke off into another moan as you sucked particularly hard.

You could feel her body trembling, could hear the way her voice wavered between curses and needy gasps. She was unraveling under you, and you weren’t about to stop now.

As you continued, your free hand trailed down her stomach, inching closer to where you knew she needed you most. Melissa’s breath hitched again, her entire body tensing in anticipation. She was already wet—you could tell just by the way she squirmed, by the way her hips kept shifting toward you.

You released her nipple with a soft, teasing kiss, then glanced up at her, meeting her darkened gaze. Her lips were swollen from how hard she’d been biting them, her pupils blown wide with desire.

“You’re so beautiful,” you murmured, your fingers slipping lower.

The green eyed woman shuddered at your words, her hands gripping your shoulders now. “You’re fuckin’ unreal,” she breathed, as your mouth traveled lower, brushing over her soft belly. “I need you.”

You didn’t make her wait.

Melissa reclines further on a now rumpled white duvet, her skin aglow under the gentle caress of a bedside lamp. Her gaze meet yours as if silently inviting you to explore every inch of her. Though her sultry allure is undeniable, there’s an obvious shyness in the way she quivers, a subtle reminder that beneath the polished exterior, she is as human and tender as anyone could be.

You step forward, drawn inexorably to her magnetic presence. As you kneel between her spread legs, you become acutely aware of every detail—the way her heart flutters in the quiet moments before passion takes over, the delicate rise and fall of her chest, the soft hum of her breath that mingles with the ambient sound of a distant rain. It is in this space, at the precipice between fantasy and reality, that you begin to trace your own exploration of her body.

Your eyes travel slowly over her form, and you can’t help but admire the intricate interplay of contrasts. Her red pubic hair, neatly trimmed and soft to the touch, frames her most intimate parts with an unexpected elegance. With a sense of reverence and delight, you gently guide your nose along the tender patch, inhaling the uniquely intoxicating scent of her skin mixed with the subtle hints of shampoo and the lingering aroma of passion. The sensation is both curious and deeply erotic, a melding of senses that intensifies your connection.

Melissa moans, a tentative sound that gradually builds into a crescendo of pleasure. Though her voice trembles with shyness, every note carries a resonance of desire, hinting at an inner fire that is waiting to be fully ignited. Encouraged by her reaction, you lean in further, your warm breath mingling with her soft, arched exhale. Your hand caresses her thigh, slowly working its way upward, tracing patterns along her smooth meat flesh as if mapping out a treasure. The contact sends ripples of delight through her.

“That’s it, baby,” she pants. “Give it to me. Just fucking eat me out.”

Obeying, you lower your head, your tongue seeking out the very heart of her pussy. The moment your tongue makes contact, the bedroom seems to fill with the heady scent of her arousal. You begin with gentle flicks, tasting her essence, savoring the salt and the sweet tang that is uniquely hers.

Melissa parts her lips. “Yes… yes, please.”

As you work, your nose remains in contact with that enticing patch of trimmed red hair—a tactile reminder of the natural beauty that frames her most intimate self. The juxtaposition of the soft fuzz against your skin, the lingering warmth of your breath on her flesh, creates a symphony of sensations that both of you share. Her hands grip the sheets in silent encouragement, her body arching ever so slightly as if to offer you more, to signal that she is ready to surrender to this shared passion.

Your girlfriend’s whimpering grows louder, a combination of pleasure and the bittersweet vulnerability of someone who has long guarded her deepest desires. In the gentle rhythm of your attentions, you hear the subtle cadence of her voice, a melody that rises and falls with every wave of sensation. Even in her shyness, there is an undeniable strength; every gasp and every sigh is a testament to the courage it takes to expose oneself so completely.

You notice how her eyes close tighter, her lashes brushing her flushed cheeks as if trying to capture every sensation. The contrast between her shyness and the bold passion of her moans creates an alluring paradox, one that only deepens your resolve to explore every hidden corner of her.

The warmth of your body pressed against hers, the intertwining of your breaths, all contribute to a growing intimacy that transcends the physical act. It’s as if every touch, every caress, is a silent conversation—a dialogue that speaks of trust, longing, and the exquisite pleasure of being seen and understood in your most vulnerable state. And in that quiet exchange, you find a beauty that is both raw and transformative.

Your flat tongue dances along her contours, tight walls, varying its pace and pressure in an attempt to coax every moan and every shudder from her. The taste of her juice is intoxicating—a heady blend that speaks of secrets, dreams, and the deeply personal nature of desire. Every now and then, you pause, allowing the anticipation to build, savoring the silence that hangs heavy with unspoken apologies. In those pauses, you can almost hear the language of her hourglass shape, the subtle signals that tell you exactly how far to push, where to slow down, and when to simply be.

Her moans soon evolve into words, breathless confessions of pleasure that escape her mouth between shudders.

“Oh…” she gasps, a single syllable laden with meaning, a delicate sound that sends fresh waves of warmth surging through you. It is in these moment that you realize the power of your actions—not just in the physical pleasure you are bestowing, but in the way you are helping her to embrace every facet of her own self.

As the older woman gets closer and closer, you become increasingly attuned to the subtle shifts in her rhythm. Her breathing deepens, her body trembles with each passing second, and you know that the boundary between anticipation and fulfillment is drawing ever closer.

“Mmm,” you groan. “My good girl tastes so sweet.”

Her breath stutters, heat blooming low in her stomach all over again.

The feeling is that you are both artists and muses, engaged in a performance that is as much about emotion as it is about physical sensation. The interplay of your hands, your tongues, and your hearts creates a tableau of raw, unfiltered desire—one that is both fleeting and timeless.

Minutes stretch into what feels like an eternity of ecstasy. Melissa’s whines become a constant, a beautiful chorus that underscores the symphony unfolding between you. The sound of her raspy breathing, sometimes tentative, sometimes urgent, is a living reminder of the beauty found in vulnerability—a vulnerability that, in this sacred space, has been met with nothing but tenderness and reverence.

Your own senses are alight with the acting of giving, each detail etched into your memory. The texture of her beneath you, the taste of her mingling with the aroma of her natural essence, and the sound of her enjoying everything form a tapestry of sensations that you will carry with you long after the night has ended.

She cums with a final, shuddering gasp, a sweet symphony of release that echoes softly through the neighborhood. In that exquisite instant, the tension that had been building for so long gives way to a profound sense of relief and connection. It is as if every whispered sigh and every gentle moan had been leading to this singular, transcendent moment.

Her fingers, still trembling from the aftershocks, reach for you with a tenderness that makes your breath catch. The redheaded pulls you up gently, guiding you until you’re resting against her, your bare and clothed chests warm beneath the quiet hush of the bedroom. Her orbs meet yours—stormy green softened with something that looks like awe, or maybe love—and then her lips are on yours.

It isn’t hurried. It isn’t wild. It’s a kiss full of gratitude, affection, apology. Her thumb brushes your cheek as she pulls back just enough to whisper. “I’m sorry, baby. For reacting like that.”

You can only nod, your heart too full for words. Whatever had weighed on you both before this—whatever doubts or distance—feels far away now, melted in the heat of her touch and the certainty in her voice.

She smiles then, that rare, open smile that makes her look years younger, freer. And before you can even respond, her arms wrap around you, pulling you close until you're buried in her embrace, safe and steady. The kind of hug that says home.

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti x y/n #lisa ann walter #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #melissa schemmenti #anon sorry for taking so long to post this 🥺#but i hope you like it #💛#wlw

220 notes · View notes

sarahmackattack · 10 months ago

Text

SQUIDTEMBER 2024 STARTS NOW!

It's finally #Squidtember!! We have so much coming your way this month.

Together with OceanX & ALCES, we've created a whole MONTH of squid education programming.

We're hosting a competition for the best 🦑!

We'll have art prompts and weekly quizzes on OceanX's social media!

The Squid Zine is OUT!

Squid biologists from the USA to Spain to New Zealand will be hyping squid all month. It's going to be great. Can't wait to celebrate with all of you.

Follow along with all of the content with this delightful calendar, featuring illustrations by Meg Mindlin!

And of COURSE we have squid merch that supports our program, designed by Philly designer Corey Danks. Thank you for helping us decide which design to use!!

Corey designed shirts highlighting the dangers of deep sea mining, and a very weird very delightful bumper sticker highlighting one of my all-time favorite squid, Magnapinna!

Get 'em both here!

As always, shirts and bumper stickers support science education nonprofit Skype a Scientist! Host of the squid facts hotline, and many many other free programs for science education!

#Squidtember #Squid #Squid Facts

511 notes · View notes

alypink · 6 months ago

Text

🌲❄️Holidays❄️🌲

Hi hi hi!

I’ve had a couple of busy days with holidays, work and family that I didn’t have the time like last year to make a full rendered drawing, but I made these sketches since I received an ask on how Aleks and Adler would spend holidays, so here ya go.

They’d probably just relax somewhere cozy and take time for themselves, even if it’s just for a while, a warm cup of coffee and just enjoying each other company.

For sure Adler would watch the all week NFL games and would drag Woods with him. Adler roots for the Chargers and Woods for the Eagles (assuming this since those teams are from Philly and San Diego).

While Aleks would also enjoy some time with friends she met along the way. Here’s a cute sketch of Aleks, Abby ( @revnah1406 ) and Mila ( @efingart ) but will also share it with the rest of her friends (I’ll draw later all my moots and friends OCs hehehe). But I got this idea from a pic Rev sent me and E about Aleks and Mila giving that sweater to Abby 😂.

Anyways, hope you had a very nice holidays and I wish you all the best. Thank you for you all being so kind and the best, makes me want to create more content and I hope I see more from you.

Love you all 💕❄️

218 notes · View notes

httpknjoon · 5 months ago

Text

The Late, Late Show Take-Over | myg

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

plot | that time in december where popstar!yn takes over the late, late show along with her band to celebrate her ep's release. (alternative plot: that time yn interviewed her bassist, yoongi live)

w.c | 5.2K

pairing | bass guitarist!yoongi x popstar!reader, a little harry styles x popstar!reader there hehe

genre | fluff, enemies to lovers, popstar x bassist

note | set in december, so a lot of holiday references there. also, think of the show as a mix of every American talk show haha i'll be mixing up segments.

main masterlist | series masterlist | want to request?

@.harryspotted: harry is seen by some fans in a cafe in nyc

@.harryfan1: i think the rumors are true! harry might be guesting on the late late show tonight

@.harryfan2: omg new ynharry content after nine years????

@.ynthepopicon: @.YNOfficial please confirm don’t give us false hopes queen

YN cannot help but smile at the posts she reads on Twitter as she runs on the treadmill for a quick morning workout before her busy day. After two weeks of working on it, today is the day she will be releasing her anticipated holiday EP. And along with that, YN will be taking over The Late Late Show to create more buzz.

So after her last show in Philly, she went straight to her ride to New York and immediately sent into a quick one-hour meeting with the producers and writers of the show. It was hectic. YN admittedly didn't remember anything after that meeting and was just glad to be back on a bed in her hotel room at 1:00 AM.

Then she got up at six for her morning routine, which included this little workout.

"Thought Harry is still in LA at this time?" you turned to Cal, who was running next to you.

"I thought so too. I guess he's excited to see you again." she teased while heaving.

You chuckled, shaking your head. It was never confirmed if you and Harry Styles ever had a romantic relationship. But back in your younger years, you two were often photographed together at various events and places. He was still in a boyband at that time while you were just a starting artist. The photographs and clips lasted for only a few months and were never brought publicly by you or Harry. Some fans think that maybe you two really had a thing, but a few believe it's probably just something PR for your then-small career.

You were enjoying the tweets of anticipation for your show tonight when a few tweets made you stop scrolling. Turning to Cal once again, you tapped her arm and made her read the tweets.

@.ynfan123: i think we should petition for a yoongi interview tonight. even a very short one

@.ynfan456: we need to hear his voice atp

@.ynfan789: he's the only one in the band who wont get into ig live

@.ynisontour: WE!!! NEED!!! YOONGI!!! TO!!! SAY!!! SOMETHING!!!

“So have yourself a merry little Christmas now…”

Singing the last line of the song she will be performing later, YN finds herself laying her back down on the stage of The Late Late Show studio. It’s only nine in the morning and she is already thinking of her hotel bed and comfy weighted blanket wrapped around her. She has been rehearsing for her hosting stint for tonight for almost two hours now, wanting to make sure everything will be perfect later.

You were so ready to give up on the heaviness of your eyelids when you felt Cal’s shadow hovering over you. You squint your eyes.

“Is a break possible?” the tired singer asked.

Your assistant and also manager offered her hand, helping you get up, “Of course. But you need to get back in an hour for a meeting with Paul to finalize your wardrobe."

"Okay, thank you. I need to get coffee or maybe just take some air outside." you sighed.

Luckily, one of the band members heard you. Noah joined your and Cal's conversation.

"We're getting coffee too. Fred's taking us to his favorite cafe here, you should join!" He grinned.

You smiled and turned to Cal as if she were your mother and you were asking for permission. Normally, just to be careful, she will come with you or make you have your own bodyguard, especially since you're currently in the Big Apple. But knowing that you have the band around you, Cal nodded her head. You smiled even wider as Noah pulled you along with him after you got your small bag.

“I swear, you’ll thank me the moment you get a sip of their latte.”

Fred was in the middle of telling Akio something when you and Noah joined them, waiting for an elevator. Yoongi was quiet next to them, in his usual blank expression. He didn’t even say anything when you stood next to him, never a small talker. Crossing your arms over your chest, you pursed your lips, contemplating if you should greet him or something. Because it felt like there was this big ice in this a foot of distance between you and Yoongi. It’s weird as if you haven’t slept on his bed nights ago or stayed up all night making music together.

“Oops, I’m sorry.”

The silence was broken down when Noah cleared his throat and accidentally hit your sides with his hips, making you lose balance and fall into your bassist who was quick to catch you. Instinctively, his hands were on your waist while you turned your head to him with wide eyes from surprise at Noah’s action. You looked up at Yoongi, not realizing how close his face was to yours. For a moment, Fred and Akio’s chatter faded into an inaudible muffle and everything in the background was blurry and his face was the only thing that was sharp in your sight. Your breath hitched, there was something in your throat when your eyes met. Yours was still surprised while he was calm. Everything felt like a slo-mo.

“You okay?”

And Yoongi was the first to talk. You wished you were as relaxed as him in everything. The moment you realized you were staring, you immediately got back to your feet and removed his hands from your waist, which made Yoongi raise his brow and step back.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, no. It’s fine.” You cut him off, still panicking with that quick but also slow feeling you felt. What the fuck is that? “I-I think I’m just having a long morning.”

You’re stuttering and you don’t like it. As you question yourself internally, all Yoongi can see is you looking away with a confused look on your face. Your eyebrows are scrunched together while chewing on your lower lip, it’s turning white. He looked away, smiling at something else.

Suddenly, there is a high-pitched ‘ding’ when the elevator finally arrives empty. You don’t know what the fuck happened because you ended up behind Fred, Akio, and Noah while Yoongi stood next to you. They seemed like walls, hiding you and your bassist, as they chatted about something. You gulped, feeling obligated now to break the silence between you and Yoongi.

“So… is this your first late-night show gig?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Nope.” he replied, popping that ‘p’ with his answer. “You?”

“Oh, uhm… Not my first time, I guest on them every time I’m promoting something. But this is my first time hosting.” you replied with a tight smile at the end.

He hummed, nodding. He seemed uninterested, you thought. So you just hummed too, looking away. The elevator stopped and the doors slid open. It’s still not your floor, but another smaller group gets in, making your human walls make more space for the others while you step closer to Yoongi. Was it too close? Because his crisp, earthy fragrance smells so good and you wanted to ask what perfume is it, but it will just probably feed his ego. You hate it– not the scent. But the way you’ve been feeling right now. You’re probably just tired. You nodded at that. Yeah, that’s probably the only right answer to why are you feeling this weird around him.

“I think there are paparazzi outside,” Akio said, looking back to you, when you finally got out of the elevator and were about to walk out the building.

You sighed, “Of course, there are. It’s fine. How about you guys? You’re okay with being papped?”

There’s a collective ‘it’s fine’ and ‘I don’t care’ from the band, making you smile. Without talking about it, Akio and Noah stood on each of your sides. While Yoongi and Fred talked in front of you. This way, your band acted like a great wall around you. Yes, the paparazzi still caught you in your matching large sweatshirt and pants. But they only got small glimpses of you having conversations with your friends. You waved at some fans outside the building, waiting for their tickets for tonight’s show. But didn’t stop for any photo.

“Oh my god! Is it true? Harry’s guesting?” a fan asked and squealed when you simply winked at her direction.

As you and your group walked away, Noah asked, “Were you and Harry really a thing?”

You chuckled, “Maybe you’ll know later.”

“Oh my god, I cannot believe I’ll see him up close later. I used to be like the biggest Directioner in my whole class in eighth grade.” Akio fangirled.

“Yoongi used to work with him! Aren’t you?” Fred brought up, nudging him.

“Yep, for his first two albums,” he replied casually.

“Wasn’t there a rumor that few of his songs in his first album were about YN?!” Akio giggled. “Is that true?”

Oh, you know about those rumors and you definitely heard the songs, even those from their band’s last album. You don’t know if Yoongi worked on them too. But the moment you two locked eyes for a few seconds after Akio asked that, you figured maybe he does know something about that, even though he’s a little hard to read.

But he simply shrugged, “I don’t know.”

“Didn’t know you were seeing my mate, Yoongi, like that.”

After rehearsing and meetings, you still found time to catch up with an old friend. You sat across him in one of the coziest and lowkey restaurants in the city. You two were already past the greetings and had been enjoying your lunch for almost twenty minutes when he brought that up.

Your head tilted slightly, “I honestly don’t know what you’re talking about, H.”

Harry chuckled, a dimple appearing on his cheek, before showing you a screenshot of an article on his phone, “It’s all over the internet. A friend sent me this earlier because they know I worked with Yoongi and I’m in New York for your show.”

The article was just a malicious rumor based on the paparazzi photos taken earlier today when you were getting coffee with the band.

“’M just messin’ with you, angel. I think I’m usually the first one to know if something’s just a rumor.” Harry laughed.

With how many relationships he had, real and fake, you know Harry would be the first one to recognize a rumor. He basically grew up in the industry and even though you two broke up years ago, Harry is usually the first one to contact you every time he sees crazy, untrue news about you just to tease you about it.

“But you do seem a bit flustered being linked with him,” he whispered before sipping his red wine.

“What?! No, I’m not– We actually hate each other.” you exhaled. Your voice unconsciously got higher when you said that.

He still has the stupid smirk on his face when he puts down his glass, “Easy there, angel. No need to get all fiery. Your nose is doing that little flare thing again.”

You paused as your hands held your nose as if it would do anything, “What?”

“I’ve mentioned before, haven’t I? When you’re fibbing, your cute nose gives you away,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone like everyone knows that. “Quit with the pout, angel. You’re far too cute to pull that off.”

He winked with a cheeky grin, making you roll your eyes. You two were always flirty with each other just for funsies, so you don’t really mind his little nickname for you that started when you two were dating or even the little teasings. Just like now, when he reached out just to pinch your nose softly.

“I’m just worried about being linked to him, H. I don’t want any more drama in my life.” you shared.

“What are you worried about, angel? I know Yoongi, he’s a good guy. Unlike that idiot you dated for–”

“Not that! I’m not saying I am interested in dating him. I’m just worried about being linked to him because– Isn’t he dating anyone?” you asked him as Yoongi mentioned his fiancee a couple of times ago.

“I don’t know.” his voice trailed off as he thinks. “But I was really keen to have him on my last tour, but his fiancee was not a fan of a long-distance thing.”

“See?! That’s why I hate being linked to him like that. Don’t want to be labeled as a homewrecker like that.”

This time, you took a subtle jab at him before sipping in your glass just to hide the small smile. You see him squint his eyes at you, picking up that small reference you made with one of his recent relationships.

“Alright, angel. No need to air out my dirty laundry… Moving on!”

The rest of your day got more hectic. More rehearsals, more meetings, and you even filmed more promotional materials for social media alone and with your guests: two for Harry and a few with the band. There was an online poll posted online for whom band member your audience wants you to interview and of course, your co-producer of your recent EP. The other band members were relieved to hear that as they were really rooting for Yoongi to be the one to take it for the team.

“Go on. You are the spokesperson of the band.” Akio encouraged him as they stayed in their dressing room.

“Since when?” Yoongi asked, and the rest of the band laughed. “I am the quietest one here. It will make more sense if Noah shows up.”

“No, you are the fan favorite, so you need to show up!” Noah laughed, enjoying the moment.

Fred joins in, “Plus you are a producer in her EP. So it will make more sense if you talk tonight.”

Yoongi knew they were right, so he begrudgingly said yes when the producers asked him for his appearance tonight as your second guest. They told him that it would only be a ten-minute interview, making Yoongi wonder what you two could talk about since you two were pretty awkward earlier while waiting for the elevator. It’s ironic to have him on a talk show when he does not really talk much. He doesn’t think he is as interesting as your other guest.

At exactly 11:30 PM, the show began. A pre-recorded skit earlier was shown on television screens as your cold open. You were seen hailing a famous New York yellow cab, in your off-shoulder, fur-hemmed, velvet, red mini dress with matching long gloves. Bringing out your compact mirror, you swiped your red lipstick over your lips. The cab driver’s eyes were shot looking at you through the rearview mirror and then to the road. Back and forth.

You looked back at him, “Eyes on the road, please! Got a schedule to catch on here, sir.”

Flustered, the cab driver, an actor, nodded. Then suddenly, the cab unexpectedly stopped because of the long, noisy traffic ahead of you. You looked at the camera and rolled your eyes.

“Of course, it’s my [redacted] worst enemy. [redacted] traffic,” you spoke. The curse words were redacted hilariously, making your audience laugh. You poked your head outside the open car window, “Can we go one, please?! I have a show to host tonight!”

The next scene is you running into the building. A guard stops you for an ID, but you don’t get one.

“I’m taking over Max River’s show tonight! I’m YN.”

The guard was unbothered. In his deep voice, he says, “Yeah, sure, and I’m Marcello Hernandez. Whatever. Please leave the building if you cannot bring out any identification card, ma’am.”

You bit your lower lip as you felt helpless and hurried, looking around. That’s when someone showed up to distract the guard. Your studio audience screamed when they recognized who it was.

“Oh, hey, Johnny!” Harry greeted the guard, pulling him in for a bro hug.

You took the opportunity and ran away. The elevator dinged and you immediately speed-walk in the long carpeted hallway of the floor. Various crew members greet you, fist-bumping you, and instructing you until you stand in front of the high curtains.

A familiar crew of the show handed you your microphone, “Good luck, YN.”

The live studio audience applauds as the curtain slowly opens, showing you in the same red dress. The band began playing the instrumentals for one of your new songs. You sang A Nonsense Christmas with your dancers in the background. After that, your audience cheered as you moved to the short monologue.

“Good evening, everyone! Welcome to the Late, Late Show– Or dare I say, Welcome to the Late, Late Holiday Show with yours truly.” you smiled as your fans clapped. "Also, The Roots are on their holiday break. So, please welcome my amazing band! Akio on keyboards! Noah on guitar! Fred on drums! And of course, Yoongi on bass guitar!" The audience cheered on every member you introduced and of course, someone got a noticeable, louder cheers. “How are we feeling tonight?”

“So… Max Rivers really thought it was a festive idea to make me his holiday episode’s host. He probably hasn’t seen my shows recently.”

The audience laughed, knowing that you were talking about the negative reviews you’ve been getting from conservatives who saw some short clips from your show. Some people just won’t stop complaining about how your concert shows are not “family-friendly” and “too sexual”, as if you promoted it that way. You didn’t. You were literally wearing an almost-lingerie in your photoshoot for the tour as part of the concept you were aiming for.

“Anyway, my holiday EP, Midnight Mistletoe, was just released last night.” you grinned at the positive response. “And let’s be honest, I am here to plug it and make sure you all will hear about it all night.” They laughed. You turned to the other camera. “Midnight Mistletoe, out now. Available in whatever your streaming app is.” You winked as they laughed harder.

“Christmas is in a few days and all I can feel is everyone’s holiday joy. And this season is all about giving, isn’t it?” your audience agreed. “So lemme give the internet a lot to talk about tonight.”

Smirking, you continued, “Yes, it’s true. I am single.” your fans cheered. “Critics and some of my fans say it’s the best holiday miracle they’ve seen these last few years.” the audience laughed, letting everyone know that you are aware of your fans’ negative feelings about your ex back then you were still dating him on and off.

“Speaking of miracles, it’s a miracle that I’m still here, considering the amount of accidents I had in my tour these last few months.” On cue, the screens show a quick compilation of your mini slips and falls during your shows. “Looking like a little reindeer on ice over there.” The audience laughed.

“But hey, if I can survive a breakup, go on tour, and release a holiday EP, maybe I can be a great host for you guys tonight. Am I right?” everyone cheered. “So, buckle up! Grab your eggnog, and let’s make this night something festive to remember!”

After a five-minute commercial, the show is back and you are now sitting at the iconic late-night show desk, ready to introduce your first guest, “So our first guest for tonight is a three-time Grammy Award winner and a member of one of the most successful bands in the world. He is no stranger to generating headlines and making everyone’s hearts race with his voice and looks. He’s one of my best friends in the world, the one and only, Harry Styles!”

The fans’ reactions were loud, eating up the jazzy instrumental of ‘As It Was’ your band was playing. You stood up to greet your friend, who‘s wearing a green Gucci suit, as he walked out the curtains, running straight to your open arms. Unexpectedly, he picked you up and spun you around. You laughed, holding down the back of your dress’s skirt.

“Hello, everyone.” he waved at the audience, whose response was roaring in the studio. He sat on the sofa while you sat back on your chair. “Hi, YN.”

“Hello, Harry. Welcome to the show!” you smiled even though tonight’s conversation felt a little less casual with how you two don’t address each other with your nicknames. “It’s so nice to finally see you again after our break up ten years ago.”

Caught off guard, he choked, then laughed along with the audience at your sarcastic statement, “I know, it’s been so long. It was so hard to look you in the eye again after our long and tumultuous one-month affair.”

He was quick to join you in your sarcasm. In public, they only knew about you and Harry going out for a month. But only a few people around you know that the public caught up late and you went out for almost a year after a paparazzi caught you two leaving the hotel his band was staying at during their show in LA years ago.

“Glad you moved on from me, bud.” you patted his shoulders and he nodded, chuckling.

The audience laughed, loving the chemistry between you and Harry. The conversation went on as you asked him about his plans and preparations for the holidays. He talked about going back home to celebrate with his mother and you shared a memory you have with his mom, subtly letting people know that you met his family before. You asked him about his next album, which he coyly dodged since he still hasn’t shared anything about it. You called him on that, making him laugh.

After the interview segment and another commercial break, you and Harry sat across each other with a round table in between. Five couples of shot glasses on it, each filled with identical liquids, but definitely have a different taste.

“So this game is basically, a person will pick two identical-looking drinks here and choose what to give the other. Then, we will pick a card that would have a question that we need to answer. If the other person refuses to answer, they would have to take a shot or sip of their drink. For example, this one might be a shot of vodka or vinegar.” you pointed out to some glasses. Your audience reacted enthusiastically.

You turned to Harry, “Are you ready?”

He rubbed his hands together, “I sure am.”

“Okay, let’s start.”

You picked out the creamy white liquids you had your eyes on, putting one of the shot glasses in front of him. The band plays some thrilling music before you read the question, laughing.

“Each of the members of your group, One Direction, has released their solo music. Rank each album from–”

You didn’t even have to finish the question as Harry immediately reached for the shot glass and took a shot from it. He grimaced after putting it down, “Bloody hell! What is that?”

“The producers are saying that it’s tartar sauce.” you laughed while your audience shared their disgusted reaction. “The other one is a milkshake.”

Harry wiped his tongue and reached for the glass of water before picking your drinks. He picked the clear liquids, which you hope to be just tequila rather than vinegar.

“Okay, I like this question.” he chuckled as he read the cards. “Almost every show of your tour, you invite one of your band members on stage for a quick cameo on one of your performances. Who is your least favorite among them?”

You looked back at your band like you were really thinking about the answer. The band playfully waved at you except Yoongi who just gave you a single nod. He knew that he was probably the answer, but he didn’t really care. But you surprised him when you turned around to Harry and took a shot of what ended up to be– Thankfully, tequila. Based on your reaction, Harry immediately handed you a plate of sliced lime to mellow out the burn in your throat.

“Thank you,” you replied, making the audience laugh at your hoarse voice. After drinking some water, you spoke again, “Whoo! That was good.”

During the commercial break, Yoongi was asked to go backstage to prepare for his appearance. His more subtle and all-black outfit was changed into a more formal light brown suit from Valentino that Paul pulled for him. He was instructed on how the segment would go, but it all sounded mixed up to him with how hectic everything was. How do you even do this?

A staff member assisted him behind the curtains, “Five, four, three, two, one. Okay. Good luck, come out the curtains!”

Yoongi followed, immediately feeling the spotlight on him. His eyebrows shoot up with the unexpected reaction he got from the audience, he cannot even hear what song the band is playing. He almost froze on the spot until you showed up, smiling before pulling in for a simple cheek-to-cheek, strangely relaxing at the familiar scent of your perfume. He felt like walking on clouds as he made his way to the sofa.

“Hello, Yoongi. Glad to have you here on the show.” you began and that was the nicest thing you ever said to him, he thinks.

“Thank you, so excited to be here,” he said, trying to match the energy.

“That’s nice. So, it’s been a wild year for you, isn’t it? You mentioned before that it’s your first time going on tour. How is the experience now that you are part of the live band?”

“Uhm, it’s been pretty great. I like going around places and Fred, who’s right there, really knows a lot of places to eat to. So I’m glad I joined in.” he replied.

Without any thinking, you let your mouth speak, “And what it’s like working with me?”

The audience laughed, thinking that you were just in character as a proud boss, but you were really curious and didn’t think about it. As soon as you realized that, you played it off, saying, “You know, working with one of the greatest popstars like me?”

He smirked, “It’s actually great too, except when you’re feeling moody. But we make a great team, I guess.”

There’s a small banter forming and the audience laughs it off, enjoying what’s happening.

“A great team that we managed to work together for this EP alone! I really thought we would strangle each other at some point in making these songs.” you sarcastically said, making everyone laugh even Yoongi. “Moving on… Was it true that you gained almost a million followers after joining the tour?"

"Yep." Yoongi nodded. “In my first show, I got almost a hundred thousand new followers and I panicked seeing it.”

"I can imagine. I, too, will be scared if I see my notifications like that. Social media is scary.” you chuckled. “And what did your girlfriend say about it? I mean, it must have been crazy to think your partner suddenly became famous like that."

Yoongi stopped like he was trying to process your question. He thought you knew. But knowing this is national television, he has to clear up that fact for the sake of himself and his ex who is now pregnant and getting married to someone else.

"Actually, I am single, YN," he admitted, lips forming into a tight smile.

Oh. Did they break up? You wondered as you felt yourself sinking to your seat while blood came rushing to your cheeks. Okay, this is awkward. You looked at the camera, too embarrassed to look at your bass guitarist.

"Okay, you heard that, people. My bass guitarist is currently on the market!" You played it off successfully. Your audience cheered. "His personal phone number is currently posted on your screens so you can call him with your thirstiest thoughts."

You were satisfied to see a hint of panic on his usual blank face, continuing, "No, of course, I'm kidding! Just send him a text, he hates calls. Classic introvert, am I right?"

The audience and even the band laughed and you mentally pat yourself on the back for saving what could have been an awkward scenario. You went on asking him about his involvement with your EP and brought up his past collaboration with your first guest. For the first time ever, you heard him speak about his past works, mentioning how creative and kind Harry is. Then, there was a very short game.

“Okay, this is the box of questions.” you tapped your nails rhythmically to the metallic blue box you got under the table. “Our studio audience wrote out some questions for me and you.”

“Will there be punishments?” Yoongi asked.

You grinned, “No, but I can ask the producers to bring back the drinks we had earlier.”

The audience laughed. Yoongi shook his head, and you giggled, “Don’t worry, we will pick out just three easy ones.”

You were the first one to read, “Okay, for the band, what is your favorite song to perform on the tour with YN.”

The rest of the band members are in their spots with their own microphones. Noah replied with Juno, even teasing a pose, which made the audience cheer. Akio answered Bed Chem and Fred chose Greedy. Yoongi replied with Juno too.

“I think we know why,” you winked, teasing him.

Yoongi looked away and drew out a question. He smirked when he read it, “YN, who’s your favorite band member and why is it Yoongi?”

The audience screamed in delight as your eyes widened, “Does it say that? I don’t have favorites!”

Yoongi laughs as he shows you the paper, proving that he is not lying. You turned to the band, “I don’t play favorites, right? I’ve been very fair.”

Seeing your flustered reaction, the band enjoyed it and replied almost in unison that the audience laughed. “You do!”

The show ended with another performance from a song that is in Midnight Mistletoe. Harry Styles showed up once again in the end, standing next to you. The band also stood on the other side, with Yoongi being nearest to you. You began your closing remarks,

“Thank you so much to Max Rivers, the crew, and the staff of The Late, Late Show for letting me host tonight! Thank you to my special guest, Harry Styles…” you turned to him and he squeezed you in for a side hug. “And my lovely bassist, Yoongi!” he smiled. “And to my wonderful band, Akio, Fred, and Noah. Also, to my dancers. Thank you so, so much.”

“And to you guys, for watching the show, thank you so much.” you were so happy and grateful, you felt like crying. “The holidays are always about love, joy, and laughter. I hope I delivered that tonight. Happy holidays! Good night!”

Fake snow falls from above as you waved goodbye. While the credits rolled in, you were seen hugging Harry once again before moving to Yoongi, who hugged you back. It was quick but fans still managed to notice it. You moved to the band members while Yoongi and Harry were seen shaking hands and chatting before the screen dimmed down.

note | was crying because i accidentally deleted half of this drabble and can't recover it. but thankfully, still had the energy to rewrite it. thank you so much to those who sent in their questions, sorry I didn't get to put them all :(( thank u so much for reading! hope you loved it as much as I did. there will be an after-party btw ;)

kindly check out my taglist rules on my pinned post :)

SERIES TAGLIST (OPEN)

@busanbby-jjk @jimingirl95 @treacherqus @jajabro @marnz1990 @ktownshizzle @notarshia @m00njinnie @thelilbutifulthings @tarahardcore @livisdoingfine @jungshaking @eridanus-lynx @enthralled-bandit

PERMANENT TAGLIST (CLOSED)

@dunixxd @cixrosie @jksjx @embrace-themagic @buttvi @starbtslove @missseoulite @vanntaesworld @kenqki @imajinthis @stopeatread @seolaquotes @greyrain23 @chimchimmarie @petalsofink @jayhope88 @moonchild1 @laylasbunbunny @nikkiordonez12 @misshale21 @marblemoonstones

#bass guitarist! yoongi #yoongi fluff #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi au #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x you #bts drabble #bts aus #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x you #bts x y/n #yoongi fanfic #bts suga #httpknjoon #love is... on tour myg

347 notes · View notes